Sure enough, every member of the heroine’s clique was not to be underestimated!

They all looked honest and simple—but their minds were more cunning than a maze.

Amelia was still the best!

Yifia fumed inwardly. She resolved to keep her distance from Eileen and the others once back. If only dorm swaps were allowed—she’d never share a room with the female lead.

Though love-struck Fina was borrowing money and George dragging others down, the fact that heroine Eileen kept such company proved she wasn’t some naive, pure-hearted angel.

Back when Yifia was a pampered rich girl—wealthy but not sharp—she’d been duped repeatedly as a child… Once, nearly kidnapped.

But after enough scams, she wised up.

If she couldn’t tell good from bad? Treat everyone as a stranger.

Invited out? Bring a bodyguard. Carry her own food and drinks. Refuse anything offered. Never stay overnight. See trouble? Call police first. Zero risk.

Yet Yifia had one fatal flaw.

Wary of strangers, yes—but once she accepted someone as a friend? Total trust.

Simple reason: they were *her* friends.

That’s why she’d grown careless with Amelia, never imagining betrayal.

Back home, her family vetted every acquaintance thoroughly. Problem? Vanish. Safe? Continue friendship. Private detectives monitored constantly for “betrayal.”

But this world offered no safety net.

“Yifia plans to join the Art Club. She should still be outside,” George said.

At Yifia’s name, Fina’s eyes lit up—and Ronnie perked up too. But as Eileen explained, Fina’s brow furrowed. “Yifia… joining the Art Club?” she gasped, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Mm. I warned her, but she wants to try,” Eileen said with a helpless shrug—dropping a bombshell.

*Boom!*

“Oh my god! That pretty new Class One girl? She’s aiming for the Art Club?”

“Maybe she doesn’t know the requirements!”

“Eileen warned her—she *knows*! Still applying?”

“Even nobles fail. A commoner like Yifia? Dream on.”

Like poking a hornet’s nest. The crowd abandoned the old drama, swarming the new topic.

Yifia stood silently amid the mockery. *Laughable.* How could they be so sure she’d fail?

And Eileen’s mouth—a leaky sieve! Spilling everything just to drag her into drama.

[System, what’s the heroine’s canon personality? In old novels, heroines were pure angels upholding justice even when misunderstood. Why’s mine different?]

[Host, how long since you read a novel? Tastes changed. Refined self-interest sells now.]

Fine.

So Eileen wasn’t kind. Yifia would watch her closely.

“Ronnie, wait! I’ll find Yifia and get the money! Stop chasing Britney—she’s just toying with you. *I* love you!” Fina declared.

Though the crowd shifted focus, Fina’s scene continued. Her tearful confession moved only herself; Ronnie’s face tightened with impatience. He raked a hand through his hair, forcing a smile. “Fina… can you lend me money *now*? I’m desperate. Without it, I…”

“Of course! My friends are wealthy.” No hesitation this time—Fina spun toward Eileen and George. Her cheeks flushed with joy as she beamed: “Friends, I *really* need this. I’ll repay you! Please?”

Reluctant but pressured, they handed over coins. When they moved too slow, Fina “helped” herself—sweeping every last silver coin from their pockets before hurrying to Ronnie. “Don’t worry! Yifia’s generous. She’ll give you the money tonight!”

Yifia blinked. *Since when am I “generous”?* But seeing Eileen and George’s gloomy faces—duped by love-addled Fina—she felt wickedly refreshed.

*Trying to drag me down?*

*Serves you right!*

*Hah! Deserved!*

Ronnie pocketed the coins with a grunt, told Fina to wait tonight, and left—after watching her fawn over him like the devoted lapdog she was.

As the crowd dispersed, Yifia covered her face and slipped away.

Couldn’t return to the dorm.

Where to sleep?

She sighed. Asking the system was pointless—it’d just say “figure it out.”

She had barely any coins left, yet they’d never believe she was broke. *Annoying!*

Sleep outside? No way.

Might as well confront them: *Stop eyeing my money. No cash—take my life!*

Dejected, she traced circles in the grass… then froze.

*Wait.*

Amelia had a private villa *inside* Pris Academy—the very spot for today’s tea. She could crash there! Maybe even a pajama party!

Remembering her powerful ally, Yifia’s spirits soared.

No time to waste. She hurried toward Amelia’s villa, ready to deliver a “surprise.”

But before she could knock, the door swung open.

Two burly men dragged out a bloodied, battered figure. Yifia squinted—*the butler* who’d reported to her earlier.

Another man followed in matching butler attire. Fear flickered in his stern eyes, but he forced calmness:

“Clean it thoroughly. Don’t anger Lady Barron again.”