Simon shot a quick glance toward the door.

Confirming it was shut, he didn’t hesitate a second before pushing back Viana’s mischievous leg.

“Miss Viana, what exactly are you trying to do?”

His voice was firm—but a careful ear could catch a faint tremor beneath.

Viana stopped teasing him. Cupping her cheek with one hand, she murmured softly, “What’s wrong, Simon? Was it… uncomfortable just now?”

Simon’s face flushed. “Comf— No! It’s not about comfort!”

*Oops. Almost let the truth slip.*

“Hehe.”

Hearing exactly what she wanted, a delighted smile bloomed on Viana’s lips.

“No more teasing. Let’s enjoy lunch—it was prepared just for you.”

True to her word, Viana focused quietly on the meal afterward.

Her sudden seriousness, however, left Simon jumpy and on edge.

*She must have a hidden agenda!*

Not logic—just desperate hope.

Because if there *was* no agenda… she genuinely liked *him*.

And for Simon, that was far scarier than someone coveting his kidneys.

*Ah… right!*

*Is she unhappy with the profit split? Distracting me to renegotiate?*

Recalling Viana’s slightly annoyed expression during their toast, Simon felt even more certain.

Yet to his dismay—he was still defenseless.

Even though this was technically both their first solo date with the opposite sex, Simon was utterly outmatched.

Perhaps this was the tragedy of remaining inexperienced across two lifetimes.

Resistance hadn’t doubled—but critical hit damage sure had.

After hastily sampling every dish, Simon made a swift retreat… a *strategic withdrawal* back to his card shop, leaving behind Viana’s deeply meaningful smile.

…

While Viana hosted Simon, someone else watched from a mansion deep within the Royal Capital.

“Confirmed? Simon met Viana Rod?”

From the shadowy room, the man seated by the tea table spoke.

“My lord, we saw Simon Drait enter the Golden Orchid Harp—exclusively reserved today by House Rod.”

*Slam!*

A thick fist overturned the table.

“Is House Rod meddling too?”

The informant swallowed hard. “We didn’t hear details… only saw Simon covering his face repeatedly. Perhaps it wasn’t business…”

The man waved him off sharply. “Pretty boy or hard worker—fact is, Simon’s entangled with House Rod now.”

He rose, stepped to the corner, and slightly parted the curtain.

Sunlight flooded in, revealing the middle-aged man who’d once tried to expel Simon from The Academy.

Gazing toward the Rod estate, his fury cooled slightly.

Though Tidelys defeated Lei, he knew Simon was the true mastermind behind the underdog victory.

But with Liszt ahead and House Rod behind, Simon was untouchable. Time to redirect focus—to *her*.

He let the curtain fall, signaled a servant to light the lamps, then turned to the two hooded figures by the door.

Unlike before, their forms were clear—yet cloaked head to toe in black robes, radiating mystery.

“The Demonology Sect targeted that last-place student, didn’t you? Why no move?”

One figure wagged a finger. “No, no. We wanted the ugly duckling—not the swan she’s become.”

His smile matched the hooded stranger outside Simon’s shop days prior.

“Simply put: Tidelys holds no value for us now.”

The other figure stood arms crossed. Beneath the robes, a graceful curve revealed her gender.

Enwell Norflin pressed stubbornly, “Aren’t you worried this new Simon ruins your plans?”

The woman lifted her head, voice haughty. “Enwell Norflin—remember: we are partners, not superior and subordinate.”

“Do not treat us as pawns.”

Enwell’s face darkened. After a long pause, he snorted.

“I’d planned to propose restarting The Ruins exploration next month. Now this meddling brat appears.”

“One proposal per meeting. Fail to handle him, and I’ll waste mine on him again.”

Her tone turned icy. “Are you threatening us?”

“Or should I labor while you reap the rewards?!”

Tension snapped tight. She stepped forward—a suffocating pressure filled the room.

Enwell stumbled back, shock and anger flashing across his face.

*Shock*: this aura rivaled only the head of House Norflin. *Anger*: shamed again by a woman.

Glaring at her audacity, he froze—bat-like fangs now visible at the corners of her crimson lips.

*Vampire?!*

Thoughts raced, but pride forced him to hold his ground.

Just as the powder keg threatened to ignite, the smiling hooded man intervened.

“Now, now—Mr. Enwell has a point. Standing idle was our oversight.”

“We’ll handle the shopkeeper. You focus on advancing The Ruins proposal.”

“But one remark needs correcting.”

His smile vanished.

“Mr. Enwell… have you forgotten how *troublesome* the terms *you* proposed truly were?”

A reminder. A warning.

Enwell’s rage instantly deflated.

“…If you deal with the nuisance, I have no objections.”

Eyes closed, he ignored them completely, extending a slightly trembling hand for the servant to light his pipe.

The silence was dismissal. Without a word, the two hooded figures departed.

“What’s your real plan?” the woman asked as they walked.

The man shrugged. “Restarting The Ruins is priority. Play along with him for now.”

She said nothing—waiting.

She knew this human wouldn’t obey so meekly.

Sure enough, his next words revealed his malice.

“I believe our future colleague, Mr. Lei Norflin, would find this matter… quite interesting.”