The Cannon Fodder Who Fell in Love at Art School - Chapter 1

The midsummer sun scorched the campus of WK University.

Fang Chen darted through the heat in an oversized white T-shirt with “Super Pizza” printed across the front. It was the shop’s promotional uniform so ugly that everyone refused to wear it. In the end, Fang Chen just took them all.

One for when it’s hot.
Two-layered when it’s cold.

Building 5, Room 301.

He lowered his head, scanning through a long list of delivery orders, before leaning into the doorway and calling out, “Mike! Mike Ken!”

“What are you yelling for? Looking for me?”

A rough, husky voice came from right above him.

Startled, Fang Chen jerked his head up to see a burly man with a buzz cut standing in front of him, arms crossed and brows furrowed as he stared him down.

Fang Chen silently measured the man’s arm, which was probably as thick as his thigh.

He took two careful steps back, raised the pizza boxes in his hands, and said stiffly.

 “Delivery.”

There were three boxes stacked high Mike Ken’s order so high that they completely hid the boy behind them. Only his slim fingers could be seen pressing against the sides of the packages.

Mike Ken reached out and effortlessly took them all with one hand. “Got it, thanks.”

“W-wait a second!” Fang Chen stammered. Standing in front of such an imposing figure made his palms sweat. 

“Please give us a”.

The more anxious he got, the less his brain worked. Before he could recall it, a deep voice sounded from inside the room calm, low, and slightly cold.

“Mike Ken, what’s taking you so long?”

The owner of the voice was even taller than the burly man. As he approached the door, his shadow loomed darkly over the floor. Fang Chen’s heart jumped; he snapped his mouth shut, clutched the remaining boxes, and bolted.

Sith stepped out of the room, his tone impatient.  You’re half an hour late. Everyone’s waiting, and you’re out here chatting?

As he spoke, he lifted his eyes slightly. From the stairwell corner, he caught a fleeting glimpse of a white oversized shirt billowing in the wind. The sunlight flashed against the fabric, briefly outlining a slim figure beneath it.

His expression grew colder.

Mike Ken was infamous for being a flirt dating seven or eight different partners in a week was nothing new for him.

“If you’re in such a hurry to get laid, you can skip today’s meeting.”

“I swear I wasn’t.” Mike Ken protested, raising the boxes. “I was just picking up the food!”

Sith gave him a chilling look before turning back inside.

Mike Ken hurried after him, trying to lighten the mood. “But seriously, you should’ve come out earlier the delivery guy was actually a really cute boy. You might’ve even.”

He stopped mid-sentence as Sith’s dark gaze turned on him.

He’d said that on purpose. A while back, Sith had grown so tired of endless love letters and random confessions that he’d announced bluntly he liked men.

Sith’s tone was icy and deliberate. “Do you want to leave this project right now?”

Mike Ken instantly pasted on a smile. “My bad, Sith. I’ll shut up.”

He wouldn’t dare offend Sith otherwise, he’d probably be expelled from WK by tomorrow.

Quickly changing the subject, he pushed open the classroom door with forced cheer. “Hey guys! I got pizza from that super popular place let’s eat before we work on the group report!”

By the time Fang Chen finished all his deliveries, he’d practically run half the campus. He stumbled back into the pizza shop and collapsed into a chair, panting like the store’s little white dog.

“Fang Chen! You delivered the order to Building 5 just now, right?!”

Jamin, a coworker, ran over, grabbed Fang Chen’s hand, and shook it excitedly.

“Did you see Sith? I heard he’s been having a lot of group meetings in that building lately!”

Fang Chen blinked and yanked his hand back. “I only know ‘Fascist,’ but I doubt he’d order pizza.

“Oh my god, you seriously don’t know Sith? Sith Bolton! Are you even a student here at WK?”

At that last sentence, Fang Chen froze for half a second. Worried the guy might notice something was off, he quickly straightened up and coughed lightly.  I’m a freshman, okay?

 But… wait, I think I remember him. He’s the one with the really good body, right?

In a university like WK, anyone well-known was either drop-dead handsome or had an impressive physique.

Good body? That’s an understatement!” Jamin’s eyes sparkled. 

Sith Bolton’s been the intercollegiate boxing champion three years in a row! He’s got the best shot at the ICK Gold Belt! Oh, and he’s from the Bolton family! The most powerful noble family in the entire northwest!

He rattled on like a machine gun. Fang Chen, whose English was already shaky, only caught a few key words.

Boxing. Noble.

Like a fill-in-the-blank exam.

“Oh,” Fang Chen said vaguely.

A boxer, then.

He recalled the muscular guy from earlier, the one built like a wall. His head ached just thinking about it.

That counts as a good body?

“I didn’t see him,” he said casually.

Jamin’s enthusiasm deflated for two seconds, but then he bounced right back, clenching his fists.  Next month’s intercollegiate boxing match, I have to go! I’m gonna buy more chips right now.

“…What does buying chips have to do with that?”

Come on, the tickets are going for three thousand dollars each! I couldn’t afford one even if I sold myself! But PLL Chips is sponsoring the match, they’re running a promo this month. Some of their new chip packs have prize cards inside. The grand prize is a ticket.

Fang Chen looked speechless. 

“Hey, a man’s gotta dream!”

Fang Chen waved him off and got up again. After resting for a bit, he picked up the next delivery order.

His pay was per delivery. If he wanted to survive next month, he couldn’t afford to slack off.

He was seriously out of luck.

Yes. Fang Chen had transmigrated into a novel.

Before this, he’d just been an ordinary college student. One night, while gaming, he spilled water on a frayed power cord and got electrocuted. The next second, he found himself here, quite literally shocked into another world.

When he woke up, he was on a plane, and a flood of unfamiliar memories hit him all at once.

He had become the namesake cannon-fodder character from a novel he once read.

Fang Chen took it well. His parents were long gone anyway, so he had no attachments. If he was going to transmigrate, so be it might as well experience another life.

According to the story, his character was a fake rich young master constantly stirring up trouble and courting death.

No problem, Fang Chen had thought. Let’s see if I can change my fate this time!

He’d planned to figure out where in the plot he’d landed, maybe before the real young master’s reveal, or during some dramatic turning point.

Then he looked around.

He was on a plane.
Holding an empty bottle of sleeping pills.

Seriously? He’d landed straight in the epilogue.

The cannon fodder had already been exiled abroad and apparently, he’d decided to off himself mid-flight.

Realizing this, Fang Chen nearly blacked out again.

He wanted to dig up another bottle of pills and finish what the original had started.

Help.

He hadn’t even passed his English proficiency test yet.

A tragic start, indeed.

And the worst part?

Because of the original Fang Chen’s behavior, the Fang family had cut him off completely, tuition paid in one lump sum, then all contact was blocked.

Staring at the string of red exclamation marks on his phone, Fang Chen nearly lost it.

Excuse me. What am I supposed to do now?!

Can’t they just give me another chance?

He really had changed this time!

But ranting did nothing Fang Chen still had to work.

Once he’d settled down, he started job-hunting, phone in one hand, dictionary in the other, using a translation app while memorizing words on the go.

If he’d studied with this much determination before, he would’ve passed not just Level Six, but Level Sixty.

Still, environment shapes people.

At least now, he could manage a basic conversation without panicking.

For the moment, though, delivery work was all he could do.

By the time he dropped off his last order that night, he was starving and dizzy. On his way back to the dorm, he gave in and bought some snacks from a vending machine. He couldn’t make it back before eating something.

He had meant to buy the cheapest pack of crackers, but his finger hesitated. And instead pressed the button for a bag of PLL Chips.

He swore it wasn’t because of the lottery promo it was purely because he suddenly wanted to eat chips!

As he walked, he tore open the bag.

A scratch card fell out.

He fished out his key and scraped the surface casually then froze.

The streetlight stretched his shadow long across the pavement as he crouched down, his fingers trembling with excitement.

Come on… come on, hurry up and check it…

Grand Prize.

He blinked, then again just to be sure.

GRAND PRIZE!!!

Fang Chen almost jumped three feet in the air. Clutching the card tightly, his heart thudded wildly in his chest. He knew it he was a transmigrator! How could he not have a bit of protagonist luck?

See? His golden finger had finally arrived!

The next day, during a lull at the pizza shop, Fang Chen quietly pulled Jamin aside.

Hey, I’ve got a… luxury watch. Do you know any safe places to resell it online?

Since the ticket was so hot, he decided not to tell anyone directly better to stay low-key for now.

Hmm… eBay or Mercari would work,” Jamin mumbled, still bleary-eyed from partying all night. He yawned. “But I’d suggest selling it face-to-face to some rich kid. You’ll get a better price.

Thanks, I’ll treat you to a beef burger at lunch. 

Fang Chen patted his shoulder, muttering under his breath, “I’ll just list it online. I don’t exactly know any rich people.”

“You could go to tonight’s party!” Jamin suddenly said, eyes lighting up. “It’s the biggest campus event of the year. Almost all the grad students are rich second-gens. You’ll definitely find someone willing to pay a good price for that watch!”

Fang Chen had heard about the Back to School Party before it was an annual WK tradition. But back then, he’d been too busy earning money to care about such things.

He hesitated.

Jamin, on the other hand, was already buzzing with excitement. “Yes! You have to come with me! You’re so cute let me dress you up!”

From the first day they met, Jamin had called him “cute boy” nonstop until Fang Chen finally snapped and made him shut up.

Hearing it again, Fang Chen grew uneasy.  Maybe not. I think I’ll just sell it online. 

No, no, no!  Jamin clutched his hand dramatically.  You must come. I swear I’ll introduce you to a few rich guys. You’ll get at least two hundred bucks more than online, guaranteed.

It was an animal-themed costume party, and Jamin was already imagining possibilities.

A fluffy little bunny?
Or maybe a soft, docile lamb?

Boring party.

Sith lounged lazily on a sofa, one leg crossed over the other, his leather boots propped casually on the coffee table.

Come on, Great Sith Bolton, Joey said with a pained look.  Do me a favor, please. My cousin’s the one organizing this party she made me swear I’d bring you.

It’s your last year of grad school, Joey continued pleadingly. “Don’t you want one last memorable night?

Sith’s tone was cool and detached.  I don’t waste time on meaningless gatherings.

Joey rubbed his hands helplessly. He could tell Sith’s patience was wearing thin.

Then, as if remembering something, he slapped his thigh.

 Wait, Sith! Did you hear about those fake tickets for your upcoming match?

That got a reaction. Sith finally lifted his gaze, dark eyes narrowing. 

“What?”

Joey, who worked in logistics and always had insider info, leaned closer.

 “Yeah. A dozen people have already been scammed out of large amounts, too. I’ve seen the fakes; they look really convincing.”

Sith’s face turned icy.  No one reported. Of course they did,  Joey said quickly. The culprit’s a known con artist they call him ‘Greasy Rat.’ The police are on it, but he’s hard to catch. Word is, he might show up at tonight’s party to sell more fake tickets.

Joey added deliberately,  Someone’s making money off your tournament, Sith. You’re not gonna do something about it?

Sith let out a low, amused snort.

He rose slowly to his feet, straightening his sleeves with deliberate calm.  Nice try, Joey. That was a pretty clumsy attempt at goading me.

Ignoring Joey’s relieved grin, Sith grabbed his jacket and strode toward the door only to pause midway.

Then, with a cold half-smile, he said,  Still, I’ll go. If that rat really shows up tonight.

“I’d quite like to see what it looks like when I crush him under my boot.