After the special theology lecture for Theology Day concluded, the student crowd ebbed away like a receding tide.
But Hale found himself surrounded. Every young woman from the Seminary seemed eager to chat with him.
Hale was puzzled. By all accounts, his reputation was terrible—so what were these girls after?
They were among the hardest to win over in the entire university.
Dance Academy students might be swayed by wealth or status, but Seminary girls? They’d never throw themselves at anyone.
Barring a few natural eccentrics, their families all held notable standing in Saint Louis.
“No wonder you’re Chief Lorin’s elder brother—you’re just as exceptional. I heard she was personally and exceptionally promoted by a Cardinal Prelate. The Faxius bloodline truly is remarkable.”
“Master Hale, could you please pass my regards to Chief Lorin?”
He understood now. Their attention wasn’t about his performance—it was all because of Lorin.
Lorin also attended Sanctum University, though in the Seminary.
The Seminary was the university’s most unique college. Remarkably, there was no age limit for admission.
Aside from Theology Day, it had little interaction with other colleges. Its campus was the largest and even housed a dedicated chapel.
Its dean was a cardinal; the vice-dean, an archbishop.
Lorin’s storyline began three months before she’d leave the Seminary halfway through her studies to start her Church internship.
It was still early. He hadn’t seen Lorin yet.
Honestly, for the best. A hidden yandere little sister—adorable, well-mannered on the surface—was better avoided.
Constant episodes weren’t the scary part. It was not knowing when she’d flip.
Imagine: one day you’re happily eating hot pot and singing along, when your sister murmurs, *“Brother, I love you most… so why is there another woman by your side?”*—and stabs you.
How terrifying.
“Hale, you’re quite popular,” came Letitia’s faint, almost melancholic voice once the Seminary girls retreated, leaving mailbox addresses behind.
Since Letitia was shorter and kept her head bowed, he couldn’t quite read the rose-colored princess’s expression.
“My reputation’s nothing special. They’re here for my sister.”
“Mm. Lorin adores you.”
Her tone grew subtly layered.
He recalled Letitia might have liked him back then—but he’d been too busy controlling recoil, then Christine interrupted. He still hadn’t figured out why.
Being favored by this wealthy young lady was no less dangerous than Christine discovering his mana-replenishing ability.
“Back then… why did you agree to sit on my lap?”
“I li…”
Letitia wasn’t good at being straightforward. Confessing felt impossible.
“?”
Hale already suspected the reason, but clarity mattered. If her feelings dated back years…
“Do you have feelings for me?”
“?!”
Startled, the rose-colored maiden stepped back twice.
Blushing deeply, she whispered, “Mm.”
“But the me now isn’t the same as before.”
“That’s not true…”
Letitia hesitated first, then raised her voice.
The Hale who answered Christine’s question matched the one in her memories exactly.
“You’ve always been like this… always this brilliant. You could read the divine language back then.”
Now Hale was bewildered.
If he’d transmigrated, the original Hale—the game’s initial setup—was terrible at theology.
Lofu’s impression of him also clashed with the game. She’d said he was always *preparing* for something.
And he couldn’t recall ever meeting Letitia. Whether reincarnated or transmigrated…
He was missing crucial memories.
A bold thought struck him: *Had he already lived here as Hale for years?*
…
Letitia was escorted away by the same female knight from House Childe who’d appeared before.
She turned to Hale with solemn gravity.
“Master Hale, please keep your distance from our young lady. Intelligence marks you as a person of interest in Saint Louis.”
Without waiting for Letitia to speak, she led her away.
Moments earlier, the Curia had declared a full lockdown of District Six—where Sanctum University stood—over suspected Xia Kingdom spy activity.
House Childe obtained the intel indirectly, but Hale’s name appeared in the red-highlighted sections.
Coupled with the Inquisition Bureau’s recent visit, Moyel now doubted Hale was merely the rumored dissolute playboy.
Perhaps he was a Xia Kingdom spy hiding behind that guise.
Otherwise, why would their refined young lady attend Theology Day—a rare appearance—just for him?
Thankfully, Moyel didn’t know about the lap incident. Or she might have crippled his legs on the spot.
Either way, further contact had to stop.
Whether useless heir or foreign spy, Hale was no suitable son-in-law for House Childe.
After she left, Hale noticed Siman nearby, her expression conflicted.
He didn’t press her as she hesitated.
Just as he turned to leave, she called out:
“Wait, Hale.”
“What is it?”
“When translating Christine’s theological text… was it a guess?”
“A guess.”
“…”
Siman didn’t believe his swift reply. Given his pride, he’d never admit a lucky guess.
Yet he clearly understood theology—and refused to acknowledge it to her.
A bitter ache rose in her chest.
“One more question.”
“What?”
Staring at his calm face, she remembered childhood: how she’d act outrageously toward him, and he’d respond with quiet patience.
Without bias, he’d always seemed the “little adult” elders praised.
“Are you really leaving Saint Louis?”
Her voice was soft, deflated.
“Mm. But not yet. I must clear my name first.”
“You really didn’t… get involved with an Eastern woman?”
“No. I’ve said it many times.”
“Then… alright. My mistake…”
Just as Siman began to relax, hoping to mend things—
The emergency magical scroll in her pocket glowed.
A single-use item granted to White Knights agents, capable of urgent long-distance transmission.
She read it. Her brow furrowed.
She shouted at him, voice trembling with unreadable emotion:
“You’re still lying to me!”
She looked on the verge of collapse.
