Haruto's mind was reeling, his thoughts a chaotic mess of alarm and confusion. She hacked my voice pack? She has the same connection as Sirehtea? Is she working with her, or is she the one controlling the system maintenance?
Elara suddenly laughed, the crimson glow in her eye fading back into a deep, natural brown as if nothing had happened. She waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, relax, Haruto. I'm just joking. I was only messing with your head—testing your reaction to see if you'd figure it out. Honestly, you're so tense! Since you're locked in silence now, just go take a break. Think about my offer to join your team as a strategist. I have more experience than anyone you've met so far."
She leaned in, her voice dropping to a serious, warning tone. "And don't worry about the memory wipe you performed during the Wizard Quest. I managed to avoid the reset; I saw your entire transformation sequence. So, be very careful."
Haruto stared at her, his jaw still tight, unable to protest.
"Oh, and one more thing," Elara added, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "Do you remember the punishment you gave Kalen after you beat him in that quest? Forcing him to dress in girls' clothing? The poor guy was so humiliated and filled with shame that he actually fled the village entirely. But he's not the type to just disappear. He's obsessive—he's definitely going to come back to track you down for revenge. Stay alert, and for heaven's sake, don't kill him when he returns. He's far more valuable to me alive than dead. You and I have a lot of potential profit to make together."
With a final, knowing smirk, she turned back to her desk and gestured toward the door. Haruto stood up, his heart hammering against his ribs. He felt like he had just walked out of a predator's den, leaving behind a woman who knew far too much about his past, his system, and his future.
He stepped out of the office and into the hallway. Emilie was standing exactly where he had left her, waiting with patient, loyal eyes. Haruto took a shaky breath, his silence protocol still in full effect.
Elara knows everything, Haruto thought, his analytical mind struggling to stabilize. She knows about the Wizard Quest, the memory wipe, the silence glitch, and even Kalen's grudge. If she's really a reincarnation, then this entire deal isn't a profit—it's a trap.
Haruto walked into the classroom, his footsteps echoing in the silence he was forced to maintain. He took his seat, his mind momentarily flicking to the mention of Kalen.
Kalen... He shook his head dismissively. If he's stupid enough to come back after that humiliation, he's just an XP farm I've already harvested. Dealing with him is a waste of processing power. I'm moving on to bigger variables.
He looked toward the front of the room, his eyes scanning the lecture hall, but his focus was entirely internal. His analytical mind was now fully locked on the biggest variable introduced today: Professor Elara.
Why would she actually want to join my team? he wondered, his thoughts racing as he organized the data.
He started a mental simulation, breaking down her motives:
Hypothesis 1: The Strategic Parasite. She's a high-level admin-type user. Maybe she's bored, or her own "quest line" has hit a dead end. Joining my team gives her a front-row seat to my Creator powers and Nothingness metrics, allowing her to siphon data or manipulate my growth from the inside.Hypothesis 2: The Security Audit. Maybe she's not a player at all. Maybe she's a system-enforced moderator disguised as a professor, tasked with keeping my "Nothingness" power from breaking the game balance. Getting close to me is just a way to keep tabs on a dangerous glitch.Hypothesis 3: The True Admin. If she really saw the memory wipe during the Wizard Quest, she's seen the raw code of my transformation. She knows my potential. Maybe she isn't trying to stop me; maybe she's trying to recruit me because she knows a "System Reset" or a catastrophic patch is coming, and she needs a powerhouse like me to survive it.
If I bring her in, I gain a high-tier strategist who can handle the politics and the background maneuvers while I focus on leveling, Haruto mused, narrowing his eyes. But the risk is absolute. If she's a traitor, she doesn't just kill my character—she deletes my entire foundation.
He looked down at his desk, his fingers tapping a rhythmic pattern on the wood. He needed to know if she was an asset or a terminal-level threat.
I need more data on her "Red Eye" state, he decided. If I can trigger her to show her hand again without being under her voice-lock, I can force a system-wide scan of her profile. But how do I bait an admin?
He leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. He had to be careful. The academy was no longer a place of learning; it was a high-stakes board game, and Elara had just moved her Queen into his territory. He needed to make his next move count.
Haruto glanced at Emilie, who was standing quietly by his desk, looking like a silent, loyal shadow. He looked around the room—it was mostly empty. He had arrived way too early for class.
Too many people, he thought, feeling a sudden weight in his chest. Emilie, the Queens, the team, now Elara... my life is getting crowded with people I can't fully control.
He stood up, needing some space to think, and walked out of the classroom. He wandered through the hallways until he stepped outside into the fresh air. He checked his pocket watch—still 30 minutes until the lesson started. He considered heading back to find a quiet corner to nap, but the sight of the academy's lush garden caught his eye.
A nap can wait, he decided. The garden is peaceful, and it's better than sitting in that stuffy classroom over-analyzing Elara's motives.
He figured he might as well enjoy the scenery while he still had some quiet time to himself. He left the professor and her complex games behind, opting for a bit of solitude among the trees.
Haruto turned around and saw Emilie standing a few paces behind him, as steady and persistent as a shadow. He sighed inwardly, feeling a pang of frustration. I finally managed to carve out a few minutes of solitude, and she's still right there. Someone, please, give me a break from the surveillance.
Emilie tilted her head, her expression softening into concern. "Are you looking at me because I've done something wrong, Haruto?"
Haruto couldn't speak, but he remembered the boundaries he had set earlier. He didn't react with annoyance; instead, he simply gave her a calm, acknowledging nod. Emilie, displaying the intuition of a veteran palace maid, immediately understood the silence.
"If my presence is bothering you," she said gently, "I will go wait for you at the classroom."
Haruto nodded again, relieved, and watched as she retreated. Once she was out of sight, he exhaled, finally finding a moment of genuine peace as he wandered deeper into the academy garden. The quiet helped him think.
Okay, let's look at the Elara again. Would adding her to the team actually be a net gain?
He started weighing the pros and cons. Ivory was a Goddess of Intelligence, but her knowledge was ancient, academic, and rigid. Elara, on the other hand, possessed a terrifying level of modern-world critical thinking and adaptability. Her ability to read people and spot subtle system manipulations was leagues ahead of almost anyone else he'd encountered.
If she's an asset, she's a gold mine. If she's a trap, she's a landmine.
He realized he couldn't make this call alone. He was the head of the team, but right now, his team was fragmented—scattered across different sectors and recovering from the fallout of their own trials. He needed to pull them back together.
I need a solid five or six days of absolute focus, Haruto thought. I have to wait for the others to return, get everyone on the same page, and then put Elara to the test.
Then, his mind circled back to her parting words: 'I am also a reincarnator.'
The weight of that statement hit him harder than the threats. If she was a reincarnator, she wasn't just a local genius or a systemic anomaly—she was someone like him. Someone who knew the "rules" of the original world he came from. He had to figure out if she was a player who had arrived in this world the same way he did, or if she was something much, much older.
If she's a reincarnator, Haruto mused, looking up at the academy canopy, then she knows exactly how much I'm hiding. And that makes her either the perfect partner... or the final boss
Haruto paced the garden path, his boots crunching softly on the gravel. He kept coming back to the same realization: Elara was dangerous, not just because of her rank or her strange "red-eye" glitch, but because of her efficiency.
Think about it, Haruto mused, his internal monologue ticking off the data points. She hasn't even had to flex her true power yet. She hasn't drawn a weapon, hasn't cast a high-tier spell, and hasn't shown me her official stats. Yet, she managed to deduce my identity, my background, and my secret status—all while I was trying to keep my profile low.
He stopped by a fountain, staring at his reflection in the water. She wants in on the team. On the surface, that looks like a classic 'keep your enemies closer' trap. But what if she's the missing piece of the puzzle? I'm overflowing with power—Creator stats, Nothingness metrics—but I'm a mess when it comes to long-term stability and political maneuvering. I'm just a guy who knows how to break things. She's someone who knows how to build.
He sighed, the frustration of his silence protocol stinging him. I'm forced to wait for the others to return, and honestly, the silence is giving me too much time to overthink. If I had Sirehtea here right now, I could just ping her for a diagnostic scan. She'd be able to tell me in a millisecond if Elara is a legitimate admin-level reincarnator or just a high-level system illusion.
He looked up at the sky, his eyes narrowing. Sirehtea is deep in the system, patching my tracks. I'm on my own for now.
He started formulating a plan. I won't accept Elara yet. I'll keep her dangling. I need to see if she's willing to share her 'experience' without getting full access to my core code. I'll treat her as a consultant—a dangerous, untrustworthy consultant. If she really is a reincarnator, she'll be smart enough to know I'm testing her. And if she's really just trying to secure her own power, she'll play along until she thinks she has me cornered.
Either way, he thought, turning back toward the academy building, she's going to be a headache. But maybe, just maybe, she's the headache I actually need to keep this 'game' from crashing.
He checked the time. Class was about to start. Time to face the professor again—this time, with his guard held higher than ever before.