After his lecture, Vanitas immediately headed for the Headmaster's office.
He was led inside, where Headmaster Elsa gestured for him to sit.
A cup of steaming coffee was placed before him, but Vanitas barely glanced at it.
"That was an interesting proposal, Professor," Elsa began
"I thought it'd be necessary."
To Vanitas, reputation was everything.
He knew all too well what had happened to the original Vanitas in the game.
A tarnished reputation.
A downfall sealed, despite all arguments defending his work.
Having lived through something similar in his previous life, he understood the stakes better than anyone.
Reputation was everything.
Now, he had to rebuild Vanitas's questionable reputation before it worsened.
Not just for survival.
But to secure respect.
Piece by piece, he was determined to earn the respect of his peers and secure his place as a revered professional.
All of it served his agenda.
To push the Named Characters and uncover the game's true ending.
To secure the assets and credibility necessary to conduct his research and locate the Archives of Haven.
And above all, to save himself from the cancer, which he was barely managing with artifacts and the power of his stigmata.
"You've certainly stirred things up with this initiative. The professors were skeptical at first, you know?"
"Is that so?"
Elsa nodded. "Yes, distributing this exercise to the entire first-year magic department is quite ambitious, after all."
"Well, it's precisely because it's ambitious that it will work," Vanitas said. "If the students can handle this, they'll excel in their exams."
Elsa folded her hands on the desk. "Some professors tried deciphering it themselves. I, myself included."
"...And?"
Her lips curved into a faint smile. "Not sure about them, but I've managed to solve it."
"Oh?"
"Though," Elsa continued, "your little masterpiece has stirred quite the commotion."
"How so?"
Elsa sighed. "The complexity of the circuit has led some professors to question its legitimacy."
"Legitimacy?"
As expected. He had anticipated this reaction.
"They're skeptical," Elsa said. "Some are asking whether you truly designed it yourself."
"They would. It's easier to doubt than to rise to the challenge."
He had seen this play out before. In another life, in another time.
The accusations, the whispers, the condescending smiles.
But this time, he was ready.
Elsa chuckled softly. "You're not exactly known for humility, Vanitas. You've already established yourself as…. unconventional. This just adds fuel to the fire."
He crossed his arms, leaning slightly against the desk.
"Let them talk. It won't change the outcome."
"Still, you know how the academic world works. Perception is everything. The last thing you need is a bunch of professors undermining you."
"Undermine me all they want. It won't make them any smarter."
Elsa sighed, shaking her head. "You've got the talent, but you really don't make it easy for yourself, do you?"
"Easy doesn't get results."
"And their doubts?"
"Are irrelevant," he said. "What matters is whether the students learn. If the professors can't keep up, that's on them."
"You're playing a dangerous game, Vanitas."
"I've always been playing one," he said. "The rules don't change just because the pieces do."
She leaned back in her chair and smiled faintly. "Well, I suppose it's what makes you…. you."
"That aside, is the agreement still valid?"
"Of course."
The arrangement was simple.
When Vanitas proposed the exercise, he struck a deal with Elsa.
The terms were clear.
If the first-year students' grades improved by at least 2% overall…
And if Charlotte's grades improved by 5% specifically…
Elsa would allow Charlotte—and any friends she chose—to transfer into his class.
"Okay."
As he turned to leave, Elsa called out to him. "Vanitas."
He stopped but didn't look back.
"For what it's worth," she said, "I think your circuit is exceptional. And, if nothing else, it's shaken them up. In a good way."
The concern in her tone was evident.
Despite the opposition Vanitas Astrea faced, Headmaster Elsa always seemed to believe in him until the end.
Vanitas might as well have imagined the hurt she must have felt in the game's original storyline.
When Vanitas was exiled.
When the allegations piled up, and he was unable to refute them.
Her faith, her trust, had been betrayed then.
Not this time.
"Don't worry," Vanitas said. "I have it all figured out."
Elsa's eyes narrowed slightly. "Figured out?"
"This is just the tip of the iceberg, Headmaster Elsa," Vanitas continued. "They don't know what I have in store for the examinations."
"Wha—"
Before Elsa could question, Vanitas had already left her office.
"Gosh. That kid," Elsa sighed.
To her, Vanitas had always been just another student during her time as a Professor at the academy.
Nothing particularly remarkable.
At least, that's what she believed—until the day she stumbled upon him training in secret.
What she witnessed changed her perception entirely.
"....The ability to cast spells without chanting."
***
Vanitas sighed, leaning behind the door.
Truth be told, he barely had a grasp on his own creation.
It was only thanks to the spectacles' guidance that he had managed to design it at all.
Without their precise directions, such complexity would have been impossible.
Nevertheless, conducting the exercise was necessary.
It was the first step in establishing himself as a figure who could not be easily questioned.
A foundation for the reputation he needed.
In the future, when his research grew more complex and groundbreaking, the doubts would fade.
Of course, they would still ask questions.
But by then, he could spit out jargons told by the spectacles, maybe even song lyrics from his past life and no one would dare question him.
Then, there was Charlotte, his supposed little sister.
"...."
A faint smile tugged at his lips as his thoughts wandered to Charlotte.
"Heh."
The entire proposal had been a gamble.
With the 2% additive, the stakes were high.
If the students failed to solve the exercise, their grades wouldn't improve—they'd drop by 2% instead.
And for Charlotte, it would drop by 5%.
But Vanitas knew risks were necessary.
A gamble like this was a calculated step to further his objectives.
He believed in her.
Vanitas straightened, smoothing the cuffs of his blazer as he stepped toward the hallway.
Tak. Tak—!
***
For the next two days, the first years were abuzz with activity.
What was meant to be a pair exercise had turned into larger group collaborations as the first–year students gathered to dissect the circuit.
Even in Charlotte's class, the same energy filled the room.
But the same couldn't be said for Charlotte.
She couldn't understand why.
In this context, they should have approached her, knowing the exercise was designed by her brother.
Instead, she was left alone with her partner, who suffered the same isolation by association.
Elysia, a noble girl from the Brunhilde Viscount Household, leaned closer.
"What do you think, Charlotte?"
Their progress wasn't bad.
They had managed to decipher the outer and inner layers.
Only the core remained.
It was a part no one had solved yet.
Charlotte glanced at the clock.
Sixteen hours left.
Her grip on the fountain pen tightened.
"We're missing something," she said, narrowing her eyes at the spellformula.
Elysia nodded, studying the core diagram. "It's the coefficients. They don't align with the outer parameters."
Charlotte furrowed her brow. "But the coefficients are derived from the mana density equation. If they're misaligned, then—"
"Then we've been interpreting the mana amplification incorrectly. Look here." Elysia interjected.
Charlotte followed her gaze.
Her eyes narrowed as she examined Elysia's summation formula.
"Wait." Charlotte grabbed her notebook. "If the coefficients are tied to the mana density equation, then the base value for this cluster should be..."
She scribbled rapidly.
Then, leaning back, she tapped her pen against the notebook.
"The coefficients are completely off. Look, if the outer layer stabilizes at 120 units per second, then the core shouldn't exceed 140."
Elysia frowned. "But the resonance factor in the inner layer multiplies by 1.2. That pushes the core to at least 168."
"Wait. What if we adjust the decay rate at the second layer?"
Elysia tilted her head. "You mean dropping it from 0.8 to 0.7?"
"Yes," Charlotte said. "That'll reduce the amplification output by 15 percent."
They continued scribbling furiously, tossing complex numbers and terms back and forth.
In the end, they ended up with more questions.
"It doesn't make sense," Elysia said. "We've accounted for everything. The mana density, feedback decay, amplification, even the node reinforcement."
Charlotte's fingers drummed on the table, frowning.
It wasn't just difficult. It was impossible.
Vanitas had designed this to push them beyond the collegiate level.
She wasn't sure how the impostor even managed to create something so complex.
"Hello."
A sudden voice interrupted her thoughts.
She and Elysia turned around to see a group of nobles standing there.
"Have you two solved it yet?" one of them asked.
"Ah, no. We're still—" Charlotte began, only to be cut off.
One of the nobles leaned closer, scanning their scattered notes and diagrams.
"But it looks like you've cracked the inner and outer layers," the noble boy said.
Another noble stated bluntly. "Can we copy it?"
Charlotte stiffened. "There's no point if you can't understand it."
The words weren't meant as an insult. She was just stating a fact.
But the nobles' expressions darkened immediately.
"What's that supposed to mean?" one of them snapped.
Elysia, sitting beside Charlotte, explained, "She's just stating the truth. Without understanding the layers, copying them is useless. It won't help you solve the core."
But they weren't listening.
"So you're calling us stupid, huh?" another noble said, stepping closer.
Charlotte blinked. "That's not—"
"You're only far ahead because of your brother," another interrupted. "He must've just handed you the answers."
Charlotte froze.
Nepotism.
The accusation pierced through her heart as if it could shatter it into pieces.
"I—" she stammered, but they weren't done.
"Don't even deny it," one of them sneered. "Do you expect us to believe you figured this out on your own? Please."
Elysia stood abruptly. Her chair scraped against the floor.
"Enough!" she snapped. "You don't know how hard Charlo—"
The nobles scoffed, interrupting her.
"Sure, keep telling yourselves that," one of them muttered. "Everyone knows Charlotte Astrea is 'that' Professor's little sister. It doesn't take a genius to piece it together."
Charlotte flinched at the words.
That Professor.
The way they said it was filled with disdain, as if her entire identity was reduced to her association with Vanitas.
"It must be nice," another noble added. "Having a family connection to get ahead."
"...."
They continued their harassment, but Charlotte couldn't hear anything anymore.
The words had already sunk in.
Charlotte stared blankly at the equations on her notebook.
All the effort.
The hours of work.
The sleepless nights.
All of it felt diminished in the span of a few sentences.
"Haaa…. stupid nobles picking on smart nobles. Why don't all aristocrats just die?"
The mocking tone cut through the tension from somewhere.
Charlotte blinked, snapping out of her daze, and turned toward the source.
Ezra Kaelus.
He stood there casually, his hands in his pockets.
The nobles froze.
"What's wrong?" Ezra asked, tilting his head. "Don't like someone standing up to you?"
"....Ezra Kaelus," one of them hissed. "This doesn't concern you."
"Oh, it does." Ezra pointed at a corner. "See that spot over there? I was sleeping until you woke me up."
"It's not even that close—"
"Doesn't matter." Ezra's smirk widened. "You've got so much to say, don't you? Don't let me stop you. Go on."
One of the nobles stepped forward.
"Do you think this concerns you? Just because you're good with numbers doesn't mean you're—"
Ezra raised a hand lazily, cutting him off mid-sentence.
"Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all before. Boring."
His eyes flicked to Charlotte.
"What about you, Charlie?" he said. "Got something to say to them? Or are you just going to sit there and take it?"
"...."
Charlotte froze, her expression twisting as the name hit her.
Charlie?
What the hell?
"...."
Her lips parted as if to respond, but no words came out.
The nobles exchanged glances, sensing the attention their argument had drawn.
With one last scoff, they turned and walked away.
Their muttered insults faded into the background.
The tension eased, but the silence between Charlotte, Ezra, and Elysia lingered.
Ezra broke it first.
"See? Problem solved."
"Don't call me Charlie."
"Huh? Wasn't that your name?"
"It's Charlotte!"
"Oh. Got it."
Ezra turned away.
But before leaving, he tossed a few words over his shoulder.
"I don't even know what their argument was about. But don't let them talk down to you like that, Charlene."
"...."
Charlotte stiffened at the nickname again, but she didn't respond.
"Later."
With that, Ezra walked off, his figure disappearing to who knows where.
"...."
Then, a faint smile crept onto her lips.
The heavy thoughts that had plagued her began to dissipate, just a little.
"....!"
As Charlotte sat there, her pen idly tapping against her notebook, something clicked as she noticed the structure of a certain formula.
Her eyes widened, and her breath hitched.
This exercise….
It wasn't meant to be solved in the first place. At least, not conventionally.
Her hands trembled slightly as she sifted through her notes again, piecing everything together.
It was a message.
Her heart raced, and her lips parted in disbelief.
"Why…?" she whispered.
No one else seemed to notice it.
Elysia, seated beside her, was still busy analyzing a section of the circuit, completely unaware of Charlotte's revelation.
To everyone else, it was just an impossibly hard exercise.
But to Charlotte, it was more.
Vanitas didn't design this exercise just for the first–years.
He designed it especially for her.
Her hands clenched into fists as a whirlwind of emotions coursed through her.
Was this his way of telling her something? Was it guidance? A warning?
Her mind spun with possibilities.
'Seriously, how will I beat the nepotism allegations if you spoon feed me like this….?'
She couldn't help but smile, a warm feeling rising in her chest.
It was frustrating.
It was infuriating.
But at the same time, the very idea that someone was looking out for her in their own way felt new.