"Wait—was that Trish talking to Valaria?"

In the instance, Art had walked past the duo. He couldn't help but furrow his brow, having noticed two familiar silhouettes from the corner of his eye. He glance back, the two figure he had observed having long left the hallway and entered one of the classes.

"No, that can't be..."

Laughing at himself for such an impossible thought, he sighed, choosing to focus his attention on Grim. She had been silent for most of their walk, offering only little chatter as if racing through her mind, searching for what to say. While Art was already aware of her inability to properly interact with others, he still found it uncomfortable strolling without much conversation.

For a smooth journey in the academy—and for future storylines—he had to form relationships with the characters, be they main or side characters. Unlike in a game, where the world's script was already set, reality as he now experienced it wasn't so rigid. His actions had consequences. For all he knew, something he'd done during his transmigration could influence the world and alter its path into uncharted territory. People he considered allies—or even "good" in the game—could have their lives twisted and become dangerous foes simply because he hadn't interacted with them as intended.

He was just as clueless about the game's plot here, but he knew he had to set things in motion to grow stronger. Once he did, he'd invest all his worth into the main characters.

Taking note of all the characters that would be introduced in the first arc, Art was sure no harm would befall the main characters yet. So, using this downtime, he planned to cultivate his own strength and officially take on the role of mentor when the time came. To do that, he needed to contract more students.

The thing about his ability was its sheer versatility. It considered anyone willing to learn from him a student. Take, for example, a teacher lacking proper communication skills—if he played his cards right, he could lure Grim into becoming his student. And if this went according to plan, once he raised her emotional meter to "trust," he'd gain a skill ticket.

"I'm boring, aren't I?"

Too uncomfortable to bear the silence any longer, Professor Grim spoke up, her voice laced with dejection. Her shoulders slumped in accordance with her expression. They'd been walking for a good while now, and until this moment, she hadn't uttered a word. It wasn't just a matter of communication—more so, she didn't know what to say.

Unlike teaching, where she simply relayed her experiences to students, casual chatter was much harder for her. What to say? How to phrase it without being too ambiguous? So many questions. She wasn't an introvert, nor was she particularly shy—just someone who found it difficult to speak casually about herself or anything else.

"Boring...?"

Acting shocked to keep her from feeling bad, Art furrowed his brow.

"...How are you boring?"

"I'm not as sarcastic as Villeir, as passionate as Levi, or as charming as Cerci."

With her shoulders still slumped, she blankly responded.

"But you're an assassin with almost a hundred percent kill streak."

"..."

"If you find yourself lacking in conversation, just brag about that."

"Nobody is interested in that!" she retorted, remembering the traumatized faces of her first students. Back then, she was fresh off the job of killing, and one poor student had asked about her past. She didn't have much to say—her childhood had always revolved around killing—so she just spoke about her various missions, sparing no detail.

By the time she finished her gruesome lecture, the class was a mess. Many had rushed out to empty their stomachs.

"Well, until you're able to speak more about yourself... why not enlighten me about your assassin days?"

"Really?" Her pupils dilated slightly.

"Yeah, I mean, aren't assassins kind of cool?"

"Huh?"

Maybe the current generation of youths thought differently, but during her years as an assassin, nobody had ever called her cool—just frightening. In her days of disguise within various mercenary guilds, whenever her name was uttered and her tales narrated, the audience would grow pale. Yet here was a young man—almost half her age—telling her, one of the world's most dangerous assassins, that she was cool.

It was strange, but she didn't take it as disrespect. If anything, it was endearing. It meant that somewhere out there, beyond the scope of her usual encounters, there were others who might think like Art. The thought allowed her to unwind slightly, a faint smile forming on her lips.

"Are you certain you want to hear about my hunts?"

"Gladly. I'll even do you the favor of telling you the secret to excelling in casual chatter."

"Fine!"

Finding his offer too good to pass up, she nodded, reaching into her long overcoat and retrieving a small black notebook.

"Do you have any preferences? Something you're particularly interested in?"

"Like what?"

"Be it gruesome, painless, torture..."

"Exciting!" He grinned.

Taking his words to heart, she flipped open the notebook, displaying her rough handwriting. Then, licking her thumb for moisture, she effortlessly flipped through the pages.

Art sighed, unable to keep up with the speed at which she scanned the pages. Grim's pupils darted back and forth like scanners, tracking the text with inhuman processing capabilities. Her body was so far removed from human norms that even without aura, her brain capacity rivaled a supercomputer from Earth.

"It should be here."

Abruptly stopping on a particular page, she smirked and thrust the book toward him, her fingers scrambling to point at the entry.

[Sun Bringer]

[In my time of writing, I should already be ten years into this job. And for the first time since my run-in with the Twin Swords, I met another challenge: Sun Bringer, a Scion of the Blazer noble vampire family.]

"I was early twenties back then."

Releasing the book into Art's hands, she spoke, her mind racing back to that particular day.

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