“I… didn’t.”
It took a moment for Selene to process my answer.
Her smirk was wiped off from her face, and for a brief second, she looked genuinely taken aback, as if she was expecting entirely different words to come out of my mouth.
Her expression darkened, morphing into a deep scowl. “…What?”
“I said I didn’t,” I repeated, more firmly this time. “I did not kill the High Priest.”
You see, there were two types of Inquisitors.
The first type could peer into your mind and sift through your memories. These were rare individuals, and the ones who could properly control such abilities were even rarer.
After all, delving into someone’s memories wasn’t just difficult — it was dangerous. If you dove in too deep, you could lose yourself in the process.
I knew that better than most. Just look at how much I had changed after remembering my past life.
Now imagine someone who had to do that hundreds of times over, diving into countless minds and experiencing so many different lives.
Without immense mental fortitude, they’d likely go insane. And honestly, that was exactly how most Inquisitors ended up in mental asylums.
Too many times, they’d see something they shouldn’t. Other times, they’d gradually lose a part of themselves until nothing of their original personality was left.
But their powers were still terrifyingly effective. Just one glance from them could uncover every secret you’d ever hidden.
However, countering their powers wasn’t impossible, though it did require some effort.
In the game, Vince Cleverly had managed to do it.
To defeat a villain who could read minds and memories, Vince made a contract with himself to forget everything except how to fight and who to kill.
That way, he kept his mind blank and outsmarted the villain. It wasn’t easy, but he succeeded.
So basically, all you had to do was distort your memories, and you’d be fine. If you could alter them, even slightly, it would throw off the Inquisitor.
Of course, higher-ranked Inquisitors might notice gaps or distortions in your memories, but there were ways to work around that, too.
For example, you could plant fake memories. Again, it was too much work, but if done right, it could save you.
As for the Inquisitors who could compel the truth out of you, they were easier to deal with.
Truth is subjective, after all. These Inquisitors didn’t rely on seeing memories — they manipulated you mentally. So the trick here was to convince yourself that what you were saying was the truth.
It was similar to trying to lie on a lie detector test.
Was it nearly impossible? Yes.
But was it completely impossible? No.
Juliana had done it once in the game.
She was imprisoned, tortured, and starved for days, but during that time, she trained her mind and rewrote her perception.
She convinced herself, without a shadow of a doubt, that whatever she was saying was the truth. She forced herself to trust her own words.
She rewrote her emotional response, not the lie itself.
It didn’t matter what had really happened. What mattered was what she believed had happened.
That was how she managed to fool a High Inquisitor.
It wasn’t just about control. It was about conviction.
And Juliana had enough conviction to burn the world down and swear it was cold.
In comparison, what I did wasn’t as dramatic. I didn’t wipe my memories or plant false ones.
I simply conditioned my mind, like Juliana had.
Of course, I wasn’t being tortured or starved for days like she had been.
No, I was in a very comfortable position.
I had Ivan smuggle me a few vials of mid-grade truth serum. I drank one vial every night over the past few days, practicing lying in front of a mirror while under the serum’s influence.
Unfortunately, one of the effects of overdosing on truth serum was chronic mental fatigue. Not the kind that sleep could fix, either.
It was the kind of fatigue that wrapped itself around your mind like a wet towel — dampening thoughts, slowing reactions, and making every second feel like trudging through thick mud.
No matter how much I slept, I always woke up feeling drained. And the more truth serum I drank, the worse it got.
That’s why, despite doing nothing but lazing around these past few days, I still felt like a walking corpse.
But it worked.
Each night, I stood before the mirror, locked eyes with my reflection, and lied.
Again and again.
Until the truth and the lie blurred together in my mind. Until my heartbeat no longer spiked when I lied. Until even I wasn’t sure anymore.
Until I could say the words “I didn’t kill the High Priest” — and truly mean it.
So when Selene used her Debuff Card on me, its power crawled under my skin, searching for the truth beneath my words… but all it found was conviction.
Calm. Cold. Controlled.
Because in that moment, I truly believed what I was saying.
Of course, Selene still couldn’t accept it.
She glanced up at the Acquire Card hovering above her head, as if checking if it was still working. Then she looked back at me, incredulous.
“So you’re saying you have no idea how the High Priest died?” she asked again, her voice remarkably calm.
I nodded without hesitation. “Yes, that is exactly what I’m saying. I don’t know how he died or who killed him, if not the Overlord.”
Selene narrowed her eyes, her face caught between suspicion and calculation.
She didn’t speak but stared at me as if I were a puzzle she couldn’t quite solve.
Her Card pulsed faintly above her, shimmering brightly in the air before dimming. She dismissed it with a flick of her fingers and rubbed her temple with her other hand.
She looked like she was connecting invisible dots in her mind. Or trying to, at least.
But I decided I had already entertained her enough.
“Well,” I said, rising to my feet, “if that’s all, I’ll be taking my leave. I have so many classes to skip and a sleep schedule to fix so I don’t look… terrible… the next time you see me.”
With that, I turned and headed for the door.
But just as I opened it and was about to step out, Selene suddenly called out to me in a tone that suggested she had remembered something. “Wait!”
I barely suppressed an urge to groan and turned back around. “Yes, Instructor?”
She met my gaze sharply, and for a brief moment, it felt like the shadows in the room deepened — as if all the light in the world had converged around her, leaving her in the spotlight.
When she spoke again, her voice carried a weight heavy enough to pin me in place, nearly suffocating me. “If I remember correctly, you were carrying a golden sword when you returned from Ishtara. Tell me — where exactly did you find that sword?”
I didn’t flinch.
I didn’t blink.
I just smiled, slow and deliberate and completely innocent.
“I got it from a dying old man. He passed it down to me,” I said. “Why? Don’t tell me you have a warrant to question me on that too.”
The air turned colder.
Her lips twitched into a faint curl, not quite a smile and not warm at all.
Though she didn’t show it on her face, I knew.
I knew she knew I was lying.
Selene obviously recognized that golden sword. She had to know it was Aurieth, and it was supposed to be in the High Priest’s possession.
But just as I had known she was lying earlier without evidence to prove it, she now found herself in the same situation.
She couldn’t call me out without revealing more than she wanted to.
We stared at each other in silence, like two predators locked in a cage too small for both.
“I see,” she said finally, sinking back into her couch as if this matter was starting to bore her. “You may leave.”
I didn’t give her a chance to change her mind and walked out, quietly shutting the door behind me.
With that, another matter was settled.
•••
The golden-haired boy walked out of the cabin.
Selene remained still.
Unmoving. Unblinking.
Then, after a long pause… she laughed.
She actually laughed.
A low, dry chuckle at first — like she was trying to remember what amusement felt like. Then her laugh deepened, warm and full, surprising even herself.
“…That brat,” she muttered with a sigh full of mirth, shaking her head. “Unbelievable.”
She brought her hand to her mouth, her thumb resting on her lower lip as she stared at the spot where he’d been standing. Her eyes narrowed slightly, deep in thought.
He lied.
He lied right to her face, even while under the influence of an active Debuff Card, and didn’t flinch once.
It wasn’t just the control he had over his emotions.
It was the sheer audacity.
She had encountered her fair share of criminals, schemers, manipulators, revolutionaries, fanatics, liars, and monsters wearing human skin. But it had been years since someone had truly shocked her.
Like really shocked her.
And somehow, it was him.
That irritating little high-noble scion.
The disgrace of the great Theosbane family — the infamous youngest son of Arthur Kaizer Theosbane, known only for his delinquent acts and being a shame to his house until very recently.
Selene stood up and walked to the small side table by her bookshelf, pouring herself a glass of black coffee gone cold.
She took a slow sip and stared out the window of her office at the training grounds below.
Her fingers tapped once against the windowsill.
The Syndicate would find out eventually. They always did. Their network of connections was too vast. Their sleeper cells were literally everywhere.
Even inside the Academy.
She would know. She was one of them.
Not a sleeper cell, of course. No, she was a high-ranking member.
A valuable pawn for the Nameless Lords.
And Samael had taken something they wanted. He had ruined something they had been planning for years.
There would be hell to pay.
And yet —
She didn’t reach for her phone.
Didn’t call it in. Didn’t even log the report.
She took another sip of her coffee, bitter and cold on her tongue, and sighed.
What was the point, anyway?
Telling the Syndicate wouldn’t earn her favor. It would only tie her into a mess she didn’t need.
The High Priest was already dead, after all. The Syndicate would know who the culprit was soon enough — sooner than expected, probably, since the Nine Nameless Lords themselves were personally involved in investigating the matter.
And besides…
She smiled again, but this time it was slow and crooked.
She hadn’t felt this intrigued in years.
Whatever that boy did, he hadn’t done it on a whim.
That much was clear.
Samael Kaizer Theosbane…
He had planned it.
He had calculated the risks. Or maybe just said, “fuck it,” and dived headfirst into chaos.
Either way, in order to claim the Divine Sword Aurieth, he must have killed High Priest Bowden.
And for that, Samael must have done a lot of planning.
So if it was all really a plan, if it was intentional, then he knew what he was getting himself into.
“Did he know about them, too…?” she murmured aloud, mostly to herself. Then she shook her head. “No. Surely not.”
…Right?
She stepped back toward her desk and leaned against it, arms crossed.
No one should know about the Syndicate. Not yet.
But Samael definitely knew something.
She just didn’t know how much.
Well.
She’d watch him a little longer.
After all, it wasn’t every day you stumbled across something worth your curiosity.
And if he turned out to be a threat to her plans?
She’d kill him.
Without hesitation.
But until then…
She was going to enjoy the show.