The council hall was bathed in its usual golden light, the air electric with tension. Alex sat comfortably on the throne of the second seat of the student council, his expression as calm and unyielding as ever. Beside him, Theron, Fenna, and Lilia occupied their respective seats, their postures reflecting both authority and disbelief.

However, their attention wasn’t on Alex.

Their gazes were locked on the treasurer’s seat, where Zyrrak Gildspire—or at least someone who looked exactly like him—now sat.

Gone was the gentle and careful demeanor they associated with Zyrrak. This figure radiated an unsettling calm and confidence. His golden eyes scanned the room, holding just the faintest glimmer of mischief.

“So… what do we call him now?” Fenna broke the silence, her voice tinged with disbelief as she looked at Alex.

“Gurrak Gildspire,” Alex replied smoothly, leaning back in his seat.

But before anyone could speak further, the one in question spoke up, his voice rich with an edge of humor and seriousness at the same time. “Though I’ve been told the real question isn’t who—but when.”

“When?” Fenna muttered, frowning in confusion.

Gurrak leaned forward, resting his elbows on the ornate table. “When you’ll decide to call me, of course.”

The room fell into stunned silence once more. Gurrak’s nonchalant response hung in the air, leaving everyone at a loss for words.

Everyone except Alex, of course.

His eyes flicked to the favorability meter floating above Gurrak’s head, a number glowing faintly: [81].

Alex smirked inwardly. The number had risen by six points since their last encounter. Clearly, Gurrak—or Zyrrak, depending on perspective—had already heard whispers about how Alex had defended him when he was being escorted out of the stadium by the academy patrol.

Zyrrak might not have been able to make out Alex’s intentions in doing that, but Gurrak, who could do so, was able to tell what Alex had done: he had made it so that Zyrrak would die not as a criminal or a monster who knows nothing other than lust but as an innocent student who was pulled into the politics of the academy.

That small act had tipped the scales, further solidifying the goblin’s loyalty.

‘He’s already at a level where he won’t betray me unless I do something as extreme as slaughtering his family in front of him,’ Alex mused, his smirk hidden behind a composed expression. ‘And that number is only going to rise.’

Thinking about the reason for the favorability meter being above Gurrak’s head, Alex’s thoughts drifted back to the events of a few days back, to the conversation that had set all this into motion—the conversation he had with ‘Zyrrak’ in his mansion’s garden.

……

The day of ‘Zyrrak’s’ death.

“Why would it?” Alex’s voice had been calm but firm. “You are still the Zyrrak I knew. You’ve simply improved—become more useful to me the way you are.”

For a long moment, Gurrak—no, Zyrrak for now—had simply stared at him, the tension between them almost tangible. Then, finally, he spoke, his tone steady but tinged with relief.

“That’s good to hear.”

This reaction hadn’t surprised Alex. Gurrak wouldn’t have appreciated some sentimental response about family or bonds. The old Zyrrak might have been overwhelmed by Alex’s acceptance, but this new version, hardened and pragmatic, found solace in purpose.

Alex’s understanding of this shift came from the mutterings James had transmitted to him after Zyrrak’s tormenting transformation—phrases like, “I won’t be useless anymore,” “I won’t live on anyone’s pity,” and “I’d rather be useful than a burden.”

From that, Alex could easily deduce what Zyrrak, right now, would want.

“What do you want me to do?” Zyrrak had asked after a long pause, his voice calm but resolute.

Alex had chuckled lightly. “Nothing much,” he replied with a sly smile. “You’ve been promoted—from a sheltered younger brother to a working one. Just keep doing what you were doing before.”

“But I’m supposed to be dead, right?” Zyrrak had questioned, his expression calm, though it was clear he trusted Alex had a plan.

Alex had leaned forward, his grin widening. “Oh, about that. You have a twin brother now.”

“Excuse me?” Gurrak’s confusion was evident.

“It’s nice to meet you, twin brother of Zyrrak Gildspire—Gurrak Gildspire,” Alex had said, clapping a hand on the goblin’s shoulder.

Alex’s mind then recalled his deal with the Golden Goblin Emperor as soon as the twin brother of Zyrrak was mentioned.

The Emperor’s voice had been laced with irritation during their conversation. “So, I have to create a new son, huh?”

“Yes,” Alex had replied without hesitation. “Make it look like you’ve always kept him hidden because of his… playboy-like tendencies. Unsuitable for an imperial, naturally. But now that Zyrrak has ‘died,’ you’re left with no choice but to send him—who had expressed his desire to attend the academy—to the academy.”

The Emperor had sighed deeply. “I don’t even know how many strange things you’re going to make me do…”

“Oh, all of this is for your son,” Alex had quipped, his tone light.

The Emperor had snorted. “I think it’s for your subordinate, not my son.”

Alex had been a bit surprised by that response, as he hadn’t expected that the goblin empire would be aware of his bigger plans, but since the guy didn’t seem to be against it, then his fortune instincts must be the ones telling him not to interfere, and Alex couldn’t help but grin as he realized that.

“Semantics,” Alex had said with a faint smirk. “The point is we both benefit from this arrangement.”

With the plan finalized, Alex had taken the next step: introducing Gurrak to the dream world.

He had given him the rank of slave just like the four beasts and James; he knew that Gurrak was trustworthy. But although he trusted Gurrak, he had still tested the goblin’s intentions within the dream space, where no lies could escape detection.

The results had been as Alex anticipated: Gurrak wasn’t pretending. His favorability had solidified at [75] the moment he was accepted into the system, leaving no room for doubt.

Just being above 60 would mean being loyal enough to a point where you won’t want to betray someone, and for those who have a romantic interest in you, it would mean that they have started loving you.

After that, Alex had explained everything else to Gurrak, from what he would be doing and how he would be doing along with what kind of personality he needed to have—something that took Gurrak some days to master, hence delaying his admission to the academy.

………

But just then, Theron’s voice, confused and wary, had broken Alex out of his musing.

“What exactly is going on with Gurrak’s behavior?” Theron asked, his brows furrowed in suspicion.

Alex responded smoothly, his tone tinged with amusement. “Ah, that. Gurrak, Zyrrak’s twin brother, is quite the playboy. Don’t take his antics seriously—it’s just an image I created for him.”

Theron’s frown deepened, but before he could question further, Lilia—the only one other than Alex who could understand the reason for that—interjected, her voice tinged with realization.

“So… this personality is to prevent what happened before, isn’t it?”

Alex nodded with a smile. “Exactly. With this new image, Gurrak won’t face the problems his brother did. He can use the ‘facilities’ a playboy might, without worrying about tarnishing his reputation.”

Alex then scanned the faces of the council members as he saw understanding dawn on their faces. They were initially shocked when Alex revealed that Zyrrak was still alive and how he had done everything.

They were a bit upset as well about Alex not telling them about his plans, but after he told them that it was needed in order to get their genuine emotions out during the events, although not completely satisfied, they still let the matter go.

Theron, however, was still troubled. His sharp mind had caught onto another issue—one that hadn’t been addressed yet.

If Gurrak were to take the treasurer’s seat while still being a first-year, then problems would arise. They could still make him the treasurer using their authority, but they wouldn’t be able to stop what would come. After all, unlike Zyrrak, who was a third-year student with a good image, Gurrak wasn’t.

The golden goblins were known for their lack of combat prowess. So, how could Gurrak, a first-year student, wield enough power to back his position?

But just as Theron was about to voice his thoughts, a firm knock echoed through the hall, and Alex’s lips curled into a knowing smile.

“Come in,” he commanded with a voice firm yet warm at the same time, making the doors creak open and all eyes turn toward the entrance.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep