By the time I left the bar the moon was hanging in the center of the starry sky, casting its blue glow over the jungle-like scenery of the school campus. The rustling leaves and bushes, accompanied by gentle gusts of wind, created an eerie atmosphere. It was a truly beautiful night.
I stood in front of a similar building—the Cultivation School. Normally no one should be here except for some guards, so when they saw me approaching the school on my lonesome, they straightened their relaxed posture.
The female guard, giving me an icy stare, demanded, "Identify yourself and state your reason for coming here at this hour."
Scratching my head and offering an awkward smile, I replied, "I apologize for arriving at such an unusual time. I'm one of the new students, Quis Quiliae, and I came to visit the library."
The female guard exchanged a glance with her male counterpart. He nodded, and she relinquished her stern demeanor, gesturing for me to enter. "Try to come during regular hours next time. Late-night visits do not leave a positive impression."
I said my apologies to the female guard and entered the building. It wasn't hard to reach the library by myself as there were labeled signs placed periodically throughout the interior of the school. Thanks to that, I soon found myself in front of the library doors without much effort on my part. I didn't hesitate as I opened the double doors leading to the library.
After opening the doors, the unmistakable scent of ink on paper overwhelmed my nose. I could see moonlight seeping through a window, casting the only source of light in the room. The vast space was filled with book-filled shelves and scattered books, indicating a lack of proper maintenance.
I made my way through the mess of a library while searching for a certain book. After searching for a while with nothing to show for it, I ended up stumbling upon a service desk nestled within the maze of bookshelves. Behind the counter, a familiar face was sound asleep, her head resting on the desk and drool escaping her mouth. With her untidy, voluminous black hair, she appeared just as I remembered—the Fruit Hall clerk
I mindlessly stared at her. I became entranced by the fact that a woman was sleeping in front of me... defenseless... I quickly shook the intrusive thought out of my head. Just how far had these reckless emotions infiltrated my head?
Even so... I couldn't help but see the potential for her to be quite beautiful if she put in a little effort. But, after thinking about our previous exchanges... even with my body which was at the age where almost any girl could be romanticized... even though I hadn't had enough interactions with this person to reasonably decide this... I couldn't help but feel a twist of disgust towards her.
Swiftly pushing aside these baseless, disrespectful thoughts, I tried to wake her up gently. "Excuse me, miss. Please wake up," I whispered, not wanting to startle her. But there was no response. Trying again, this time with a louder voice, I exclaimed, "Miss, please wake up! I have a question for you. Wake up!" My tone grew increasingly forceful, yet still, she remained unresponsive.
"Fine then, don't blame me for being more assertive," I said, approaching her and shaking her shoulders vigorously. Urgently, I repeated, "Wake up! Wake up!" This time, she jolted awake, her eyes wide open.
"Huh! Are they here?! Uh-oh. Don't tell me... has Dartus discovered that I stole the cupcakes he planned to give his daughter? Or perhaps Hasrem found out I wore her freshly cleaned clothes, got them dirty, and didn't clean them? Or maybe, oh no, that would be the worst—"
"Please stop! I don't want to hear any more from you!" I interjected, my voice filled with dismay as I looked at the degenerate woman before me. As I said this, she snapped out of her half-asleep state.
Casting a glance at herself and then at me, she abruptly covered her body with her arms, as if trying to hide her body from me.
"What have you done to me!? I see now. In the throes of your hormonal teenage years, you couldn't resist the temptation of my body and violated me in my sleep!" She rubbed her body while saying this and gazed accusatorily yet strangely expectant at me.
This really ticked me off. I wasn't just going to let her walk all over me though, oh no, I'll give this woman a dose of reality, and it'll coincide with my fake personality as well. I would deal a blow that would make any woman depressed in such a situation!
"You value yourself too highly," I calmly responded with a blank expression. It had an immediate impact. Her previous attitude dissipated, replaced by a sense of dejection.
I attempted to change the melancholic atmosphere, "But let's forget about that. I need your assistance in locating a book. I assume you have records of Inadere Luanis, right? I need to examine them," It didn't seem to work.
With her head still down, she replied in a despondent tone, "A-all records of allies can be found i-in that section... o-over there," she pointed to a cluster of bookshelves.
Expressing my gratitude, I left for the indicated section. As I walked away, I noticed her sitting down and muttering to herself with a crestfallen expression. It seemed best to keep my distance from her from now on. She was an eccentric individual, difficult to control, and not someone I desired to be around.
After the brief interruption, I skimmed through the labels of books and scrolls haphazardly placed on the shelves until I found what I sought. It was a record of Inadere Luanis, the one who had bestowed the Firearm inheritance upon this sect—the original possessor of the Crossbow Bolt Fruit that now resided with me.
Taking a seat, I began reading the book. As time passed, a small smirk crept onto my face, 'My instincts were correct; this man's story is riddled with inconsistencies.'
His motives and actions didn't align. It could only mean one thing—he had ulterior motives for imparting his inheritance to the sect. I even suspected that he didn't align with the Righteous ideology.
"Based on what I see, he must have left something more than just the Crossbow Bolt Fruit. But I couldn't find any further information in this record. Perhaps he left the rest of his inheritance somewhere else. But why?"
Page after page, I frantically searched for any clue that could shed light on the mystery. My mind raced as I sought answers, and finally, I found it. The text mentioned how his life had been saved by the sect when they discovered him covered in wounds. Yet, as a Gold Class Fruit Master, no ordinary worldly force could have inflicted such severe injuries. Not to mention, his explanation for this fell short.
'What if he faked his near-death experience to gain a relationship with the sect? The only reason he would do that is if... he wanted to hide his inheritance within the sect's grounds!' My thoughts reverberated loudly, connecting the dots in my mind. 'There must be more to it... but this hypothesis aligns when reading the record with that perspective.'
Energized by my discoveries, I leaped out of my seat. 'If he specifically requested the Crossbow Bolt Fruit to be an option for students, then he must have concealed his inheritance somewhere on the campus, awaiting a fortunate student to discover it throughout their academic year. Undoubtedly, he had other, potentially unsavory, motives, but I couldn't care less. This was an opportunity for me to compensate for my mediocre Talent—a chance I had to seize, regardless of the consequences.'
The decision was made. I would search for the inheritance as soon as possible. However, there was still a problem. It would raise suspicion if an outsider who had suddenly appeared just before the Duranian Awakening Ceremony began sneaking around at night. I needed a valid excuse.
After bidding farewell to the still-dejected librarian/clerk, I exited the library, and soon the school while contemplating various solutions to my predicament. Lost in my intense brainstorming, I was interrupted by a voice calling out to me, "Hey Quis! I finally found you! Did you think that I would let you off just because Pulchra asked me to? If you did... then you've got another thing coming!"
It was Spiravit and two of his closest goons. They both had Talents in the B grade and Spiravit, the ring leader, had an A+ tier Talent; it was quite the menacing trio. I could guess why they would seek me out at a time like this.
"Yeah, you're both an outsider and a low Talent loser! We're going to make sure you understand your place. And don't even think about tattling. Nothing would happen to us. What kind of sect would chase away B and A tier Talents for a C- nobody? You'll just have to deal with it," one of Spiravit's "friends" sneered, uttering these clique words. Externally, I displayed a slight expression of fear before it transformed into resolute determination. Clenching my fist, I challenged, "Come at me then!"
Of course, my inner thoughts differed. Who would have thought that an excuse to search for the inheritance would present itself on a silver platter?