Aunt Castina looked at Helena, her smile gentle.
She was like a silver knife just placed in a furnace, its exterior scalding, its blade sharp.
The slender girl standing by the wall said nothing.
She simply reached out and gently pushed the round-rimmed glasses on her nose.
The weary Miss Helena felt a wave of powerlessness.
She had known since she was very young that to achieve a “loving relationship” with the Hermann family, she had to abide by certain rules.
No talking back;
No drawing attention;
No mentioning “arcane arts” or “Pioneers”;
No asking questions;
Behave normally;
And absolutely do not take advantage of her cousin, Franka.
Once violated, the consequences were simple and direct—
Locked in the storage room for reflection, or, a day without food.
But even so, the stubborn Helena had never completely given up her small… self-respect.
She couldn’t give up!
Once she gave up, she would have nothing!
“Railway Vocational College…” she began, her tone flat, “It certainly sounds very suitable for me.”
Aunt Castina’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.
She had thought this little girl would try to anger her again, but she didn’t expect her to be so sensible today. It seemed her long-term “education” had been very effective.
However, before the plump woman could rejoice for long, Helena’s next sentence completely flustered her.
“That kind of life, repeating operations day after day, not requiring thought—you must be very familiar with it.”
The atmosphere instantly froze.
Aunt Castina’s smile remained on her face, but the flesh at the corner of her eye twitched slightly, as if someone had pricked her with a needle.
This brat is crazy!!!
“It seems your mouth is very stubborn today,” Aunt Castina’s voice was chilly, “Then you won’t eat.”
She said this very naturally, as if announcing a little less salt for dinner tonight.
Her cousin, Franka, let out a “chuckle” from the side, with a hint of amusement, as if watching a play.
In a corner of the sofa, Rudolf was still flipping through a newspaper, showing no reaction, pretending he wasn't there as usual.
Helena stood there, her expression not showing much emotion.
She didn't need to show emotion.
She had known the outcome would be this way long ago.
She had wanted to resist.
And she did resist.
But she still couldn’t change anything.
Railway Vocational College?
For her, it was tantamount to a life sentence for her destiny.
Her dream was to enter the Saint Matthias Pioneer Academy in Munich and become a true Pioneer, just like her parents.
But now, her dream was like a wet old paper, thrown into a furnace.
But she didn’t cry, nor did she plead.
The haggard Miss Helena merely lowered her head, then silently told herself in her heart:
“This is good too, leave this home early; become independent early, start my own life early.”
However, Miss Helena, making the best of a bad situation—
Would have to go to bed hungry tonight.
If Aunt Castina said she couldn't eat, she truly wouldn't let her have anything.
Kreuzberg District · Eatery back alley.
Heat and aroma billowed from the street, and in this small alley surrounded by cooking fumes, charcoal fire, and steam, lay Bella Berlin’s most down-to-earth delicacies.
Grilled sausages sizzled on a hot iron plate, and a specially blended curry tomato sauce, mixed with perfectly cut curry powder, was drizzled over thick-cut sausages, their edges browned, the meat juices bursting between the teeth.
French fries steamed, and freshly baked bread lay beside them, crispy on the outside and soft on the inside, full of the aroma of home cooking.
Zieg, who had gotten off the train, leaned against an old brick wall, his violin case casually placed beside him.
He held a wrapped Winged Cat in his arms, and slowly savored a curry sausage with a paper fork.
His heterochromatic eyes gleamed slightly in the steam, and his lips curled, as if what he was eating wasn't cheap street food, but a limited menu from a noble chef.
Zieg enjoyed good food.
Heidewig was nestled in the cloth, his face filled with indignation at his duties being delayed.
“I say, you—you’re already in Bella Berlin, and the letter hasn’t been delivered yet, and you actually have time to eat here!?”
He tapped Zieg’s elbow with his tail, his eyes full of accusation.
“This is disrespect for the mission!”
The mailman Zieg bit off a piece of sausage, chewing it slowly, not even lifting his eyelids.
He casually pulled out a rough paper napkin, wiped the sauce from the corner of his mouth, his voice muffled but lazy:
“Don’t worry, it will be delivered.”
He paused, then added in a remarkably natural tone:
“However, this thirty-copper-shield meal has already been charged to your official expenses under your name. Remember to settle it later.”
After speaking, he also maliciously—reached out and stroked Heidewig’s head.
His practiced movements and malicious behavior made it seem as if he wasn't comforting a cat, but stamping and sealing an account.
When Heidewig heard this, his pupils immediately dilated as if an earthquake had struck, and his tail puffed out with a snap:
“What did you say?!”
Zieg slowly forked the sausage back onto the plate, his tone becoming even calmer:
“This is because you don’t understand the specific agreement. This isn’t an ordinary application channel.
This is my special service, which includes full-process quality service of ‘instant delivery + letter transfer + security protection + on-site handover’.”
“Moreover, I haven’t even charged you for the medicine and bandaging the wound before.”
He tilted his head and glanced at the tightly wrapped bandage.
“I’ve waived the fees for all those services, so, collecting an additional handling fee now—
“Is reasonable.”
“Is legal.”
“Is justifiable.”
He spoke word by word, fully displaying the black-hearted mailman’s face of extortion.
Heidewig’s entire cat face froze, his golden amber eyes wide.
As a cat, he had actually encountered a legal bandit under the guise of official convenience.
If this kid didn’t become a civil servant in the Shinra Empire’s Ministry of Finance, it would be a terrible waste of talent.
Zieg, immersed in the fun of teasing the cat, didn’t forget to add in a low voice:
“Don’t worry, once the letter is delivered, I’ll even give you a receipt.”
“All items listed, all annotations complete, stamped and signed—guaranteed to satisfy you.”
But as soon as he finished speaking, he slowly raised his eyes, a hint of coldness quietly flashing in his heterochromatic pupils.
“But before delivering the letter—”
He put down his fork and slowly stood up.
“It seems we still have some… additional trouble to deal with.”
Just a few minutes ago.
Zieg had already noticed.
Those ill-timed figures—they were the same group of people he had observed out of the corner of his eye when he was approaching Helena’s Aunt’s house.
Their steps were disorderly, yet they weren’t drunk.
Their gazes drifted, but they always scanned the surrounding possible entrances and exits.
They were not lost travelers, nor were they respectable neighbors.
They were tracking someone, or perhaps… waiting for someone.
This was also the reason Zieg had not directly delivered the letter earlier.
He sat here, eating was just a cover; observing the situation and waiting for the right moment was the real purpose.
And now, he had waited for it.
The moment he stood up.
The blue curtain of the “akashic records” quietly unfolded in the deepest part of his retina.
—Karma has already resonated.