A hundred miles of sprinting in a single night, coupled with the massive spiritual drain of the Eternal Sleep Moon and the extra energy channeled to help Barbara wake up, had left Eros utterly spent—both physically and mentally.

  He didn't even want to think about attending classes. To him, the Academy was just a front to maintain his public identity. Most of what they taught, his family had already drilled into him years ago.

  In his view, the Church founded these academies to train "grassroots" talent—or more accurately, cannon fodder. Naturally, they wouldn't teach anything truly profound. To access high-level secrets, one had to join the Church, work for them, and accumulate enough "contribution points" to pay for "further studies" in their internal sanctums.

  In Eros’s past-life terms: the current Academy was primary school. If you wanted to go to middle school, high school, or university, you had to slave away for the Church until you earned your tuition.

  Of course, there were exceptions for those with "extraordinary talent." As for what defined such talent? There was no set metric. Perhaps if you were aesthetically pleasing enough and caught the eye of a high-ranking Church official who wanted a "protégé," you’d find yourself on the fast track.

  While "extraordinary recruitment" was a pipe dream for most, for Eros, it was a guaranteed pass. Ever since his "Saint" status was confirmed and relayed to the upper echelons of the Church, his path was essentially a VIP escort—provided his identity held up.

  Because of this, the Deans were remarkably courteous toward him. Dean Como of the Cycle Church was especially affectionate. It made sense—the Noth family fell under the jurisdiction of the Cycle Church, making Eros one of their own "rising stars." Building a good relationship now was just smart networking. Thus, they turned a blind eye to his unexcused absence.

  Undine, however, was consumed by curiosity about where her brother had disappeared to last night. Recalling his exhausted, "hollowed-out" appearance this morning, her mind wandered into dangerous territory. A pink flush crept onto her pale cheeks as she muttered, "That dog... he couldn't have gone to..."

  Suddenly, a slender white hand waved in front of her face. Joanie leaned in, her eyes narrow with suspicion. "What are you thinking about so intensely?"

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  "Ah? Nothing! Don't talk nonsense!" Undine waved her hands frantically, her eyes darting toward Joanie. He doesn't know many girls here... could it be Joanie? But she looks perfectly normal today... or does she?

  Seeing Undine’s shifty glances, Joanie felt baffled. "Why do you keep looking at me like that? Your eyes are so weird today."

  Undine let out a forced, hollow laugh. She could hardly say she suspected Eros of fooling around with another woman—and that she suspected the woman was Joanie. She played it off with a stammer: "I... I just thought your complexion looked exceptionally good today, so I took a few extra looks."

  Joanie didn't suspect a thing. She beamed, radiant with joy. "You noticed? I did a full 'maintenance' session last night! I thought the results weren't that obvious yet!"

  The smile on Undine’s face froze into a grotesque mask.

  Joanie, oblivious to the shift, launched into an enthusiastic description of how refreshing her morning was, how energetic she felt, and how "supple" her skin had become.

  Undine gritted her teeth in silence. It really was you, you little minx! She let out an internal huff, but curiosity soon overwhelmed her jealousy. With bright red cheeks, she whispered, "So... how did it feel? What was it like?"

  Joanie, assuming she was asking about the skin treatment, thought for a moment. "I don't know how to describe it. It was just... very comfortable. Very relaxing." She paused, then gave Undine a mischievous wink. "Want to do it together tonight?"

  At those final words, Undine’s face turned a violent shade of crimson. Steam practically rose from her head. She waved her hands in a panic, her voice stumbling: "T-t-this... we can't! That’s impossible! We shouldn't!"

  She turned and fled the scene. Joanie stood there, blinking in confusion. What’s her problem? She had a faint, nagging feeling that she and Undine were talking about two completely different things.

  That night, Eros noticed that Undine was acting bizarrely. She avoided his gaze and flinched whenever they accidentally touched. Confused, he sat down beside her and grabbed her arm just as she tried to shuffle away.

  "What is wrong with you today? You're being so weird!"

  Undine’s face was beet-red as she stammered, "Y-you can't! Just go find Joanie! I won't stop you anymore!"

  The question marks above Eros’s head multiplied. "Why would I find Joanie?"

  "To do what you two did last night..." Undine couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence. She just kept chanting: "I'm not going! Don't drag me into it!"

  "Me and Joanie? I wasn't even with her last night!"

  Eros began to piece it together. This brat thinks I was with Joanie? And because I came back looking like a zombie, she thinks we spent the night doing... that?

  It was a tempting thought, sure, but this was pure slander. Part-annoyed and part-amused, Eros reached into his pocket and pulled out the necklace, dangling it before Undine.

  "Look at this. Tell me what you see!"