[How about injecting your Magic Power into me? Or me staining your core with mine? We’re testing if it kills or not. I’ll let you know if it works.]

[We should mix our Magic Powers and become each other. Could I get pink eyes? If we had each other inside, we’d be better mages.]

“……”

Sunday.

Ulrike looked at Lucas, concerned.

Lucas, face dark, read a note, tossed it on the table, and retched in the bathroom.

Returning to the team’s table, he sat, grim-faced.

Everyone watched him carefully.

All weekend, his notes were like this.

“…Lucas looks thinner.”

“Can’t lose more weight here.”

Elias’s light jab at Ulrike’s worry made Lucas glance at him, incredulous.

He forced a polite smile, then stared blankly at the table, rubbing his face.

“Leonard.”

“What.”

“Ask headquarters to get me another uniform.”

Ulrike’s eyes widened.

All weekend, Lucas faced endless thefts. A shapeshifter posing as a servant? No matter how tight security was, they kept stealing.

Now they’d stolen clothes issued in the Emperor’s name.

Leo’s face hardened, brow furrowing.

I expected a “Why me?” but he didn’t react further.

Lucas, taking the silence as agreement, stood shakily, looking fed up, without a word or glance.

Narce, who’d cast space magic to isolate the school, followed Lucas.

In the frozen atmosphere, Ulrike spoke quietly. “…Guys… is this an act…?”

“The stolen clothes are real,” Leo replied flatly.

So, except for the theft, that attitude’s an act.

Yulia clapped, laughing. “Wow~ Lucas’s acting is top-notch. He’s gotta be pissed, but he wasn’t *this* bad before. Didn’t know he could play it this sour.”

Ulrike nodded.

Elias said Lucas felt the time was right.

‘To make the stalker drop their guard, I gotta act hit hard. Whatever I do, it’s not my real feelings, so don’t take it too seriously. I know it’s uncomfortable, but bear with me for the weekend.’

He told Elias, and it spread to the team.

When Narce re-cast space magic to block the stalker, Lucas chatted normally, smiling like nothing was wrong, so everyone knew it was strategy.

‘The bright side’s the real him.’

Ulrike swallowed, recalling his scarily real act.

No clue how he plans to shake the stalker, but…

‘Gotta plan something fun soon to lift his spirits.’

Ulrike steeled herself with her usual resolve.

* * *

‘Success.’

Back at the estate, I suppressed a smug smile, furrowing my brow.

‘What was my mistake? What else would’ve made the culprit too impatient to stay hidden?’

A thought from a now-erased timeline.

It didn’t take long to conclude.

‘I didn’t show I liked Yulia.’

That was my conclusion then.

No matter how much Yulia leaned in, if I didn’t reciprocate, to the stalker, it’s annoying but no big deal.

But if I acted like I had special feelings for her too?

That changes everything.

They’d think their chance was gone.

Problem is, do I have to do this with my teammates again? This time, acting fully?

The Grand Hotel stunt and Yulia’s act already spiked their guard. Repeating the same won’t draw them out.

So, I’ll find a way they can’t resist showing up…

‘While looking like I’m not out to attack.’

I need to seem like I’m losing.

If I look beaten, they won’t suspect a trap.

Fatigue, resignation, lethargy from stalking—showing I’m affected is a good example.

Honestly, reporting and staying stone-faced wasn’t fun for them. Bullies want reactions, so I just had to act upset like anyone else.

It went as expected.

The more I reacted, the more they taunted.

So what? They taunt more, I act angrier.

‘A scam cycle.’

Of course, I’m the only one scamming. They’re not getting me.

I stood slowly, eyeing a box big enough for three thick books, filled with pink notes.

My gaze shifted to a notebook. The list of items stolen this weekend already spilled past a page.

‘Hmm.’

Going smoothly.

They’re wary but likely think they’ve got the upper hand. Human subconscious works that way, sadly.

I felt my default expression tense, rubbing my chin.

‘Time to end this.’

No dragging it out.

Preparations done, time to meet face-to-face.

Decided, I stared at the box, faking exhaustion, and wrote on a note.

[What do you want?]

They said they’d read replies anywhere. I tossed the note out the window and stepped away.

Shockingly, when I returned, a note was on my bed.

Lyrics from a folk song I’d heard, *That you are my dearest*.

Come to them, that’s all they want…

‘Show up, you bastard…’

Not even a real answer.

I wasn’t upset, feeling them play into my hands, but it was good fuel for fake rage.

I looked at the window.

I stopped bothering with curtains. They’d just lift them when I left and returned.

It advertises lethargy, so I left it—now they’re using it as a screen.

Staring at thousands of notes in the box, I sat on the bed.

I counted backward from 10 silently, buried my face in my hands, and exhaled deeply.

Haven’t done it big since coming here, but it worked fine.

‘…6, 5, 4…’

My nose stung.

When I finished, I wiped tears with my sleeve, stood, and angrily yanked the curtains.

Faking rage by smashing furniture—none of it mine—wasn’t ideal, so I just needed a tool to shock the watcher.

Moving to another room, I thought, ‘This makes me feel like the lunatic.’

But they’re watching from outside. Not in another building or street, but definitely there.

I opened a safe, pulling out the familiar rectangular box Leo left.

Not a great memory.

‘Didn’t think I’d touch this again.’

Opening the clasp, glass vials from stage 1 to 10 were neatly lined up.

What is it?

The drug I took in Gelda Asman.

I vividly recall swearing never to touch this shit again.

That resolve hasn’t changed.

If I had to face Gelda Asman again, I wouldn’t choose this. I don’t want to fake emotions to lower someone’s guard, especially another victim.

But this case is different.

My hand reached for the end of the box.

Grabbing a vial, I headed to the estate’s rooftop.

Whoosh—

The wind hit my ears as I opened the door.

Keeping my grim expression, I walked to the center, drank the drug.

Like before, the odorless liquid slid down my throat. The difference? This is stage 10.

Now, I’ll feel sudden affection for the first person I see.

Or maybe not—Elias’s machine noises weren’t for nothing.

But to others, it’ll look like I’m in love with the first person I see.

“Come out.”

I spoke loud enough to be heard.

No response. Had to raise my voice.

“You know what I drank. Come out!”

Silence.

Only the wind drilled into my eardrums.

‘…Fine.’

Knew it.

Even with a feast set, they’d suspect poison and not show.

They’ve got a brain, so obvious.

Having seen through their ambitious plan, they know they need a tighter setup to control me. Showing up now, biting my bait, would half-ruin their scheme.

That’s why I built an atmosphere where they think they’re winning.

‘So I can’t back off now.’

I closed my eyes, touching my ear’s artifact—Eszett’s private line.

I tapped it randomly.

No clue how many times, so no idea which of the six it’ll connect to.

Feels like Russian roulette. Whoever answers, I’d prefer someone with the antidote or who’s already provoked the stalker.

Clearing my mind, I brushed the artifact, pressing the activation button.

Beep—

Before the tone finished, someone answered.

[Lucas?]

‘Nice.’

The god of odds is on my side.

It’s someone who can bring the antidote, so no burden if I fail. Separately, the culprit can’t think that far.

I laughed, looking at the sky.

[Talk, Lucas.]

“……”

They can handle others showing interest like them?

Wonder how they’ll take the reverse.

Keep scheming, or act now?

“Come to the rooftop. Now.”

I spoke with force.

No need to yell into the artifact, but my real audience required it.

Boom—!

A fierce wind shook my robe and hair, making it hard to open my eyes.

An icy hand grabbed my cheek urgently. I heard panting, as if they’d rushed down.

I felt the space shift under their space magic.

Doesn’t matter.

What matters is, my target’s fully in my trap.

I grabbed the cold hand, casting a restraint spell with mine, and opened my eyes.

“We finally meet.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep