SS Awakening: My Monster Merging System!

Chapter 162: High Expectations

Jayden was silent for a long time, his hand never loosening its grip on the cup. The dark liquor inside swayed gently from the pressure of his knuckles but never spilled a single drop. The few people at the table all realized at that moment that what he was about to say might not be the usual sharp tongued cold remarks.

Zich had expected him to continue with the sarcasm. Helen had thought he was just going to push the atmosphere, which had barely eased, right back into stiffness. Even Mira had lifted her eyes from behind the rim of her cup, quietly watching this perpetually cold faced swordsman.

But when Jayden finally spoke, his first sentence made everyone at the table pause.

"My family will be watching this tournament."

It didn’t sound intense. In fact, it was quite plain, but everyone present understood that for Jayden, this wasn’t simply "my family will be watching" in the ordinary sense.

The Smith family would be watching.

The elders would be watching.

Those who expected him to prove his worth would be watching.

And those waiting to point out his mistakes would be watching too.

Starting from the second stage, the Chosen Tournament would be broadcast simultaneously to the real world and the observation areas of all races. That meant that sitting here, standing in the arena, Jayden no longer represented just himself. He represented the face of the younger generation of the Smith family and what many people expected someone from a distinguished house to look like.

Jayden lifted his head, shifting his gaze from the swaying liquor in his cup to Zich. His voice was still cold, but the coldness had faded slightly.

"So, until the tournament is over, I’ll set aside personal grudges and put winning first."

After saying that, as if he didn’t even like the way it sounded, his brow furrowed slightly, and he quickly added,

"Don’t get me wrong. That doesn’t mean I don’t hate you."

Zich looked back at him evenly.

"I didn’t get that impression."

Jayden’s face darkened.

Helen took a sip of her drink, as if hiding a smile that had nearly escaped, while Mira nodded very seriously, apparently thinking that laying out the terms so clearly was quite useful.

Jayden didn’t respond to them. But what truly made him fall silent wasn’t Zich’s infuriatingly calm reply. It was the words he himself had just spoken.

Was he really only willing to set aside his grudges because of his family and the tournament?

The moment this question surfaced in his mind, Jayden’s first instinct was to suppress it.

Of course it was.

Of course he hated Zich.

He hated the perpetually indifferent look in that white haired boy’s eyes. He hated his attitude of seeming to care about nothing. He hated how, despite having no family, no backing, no status, Zich always managed to steal everyone’s attention when he least deserved the spotlight.

What irritated him most was Helen’s attitude toward Zich.

From initial curiosity, to later trust, and now to an almost undisguised concern, Jayden saw it more clearly than anyone.

But if it were only that, perhaps it wouldn’t have driven him to this point of losing control.

What truly made him uncomfortable was that Zich actually had skill.

In the Golden Secret Realm, Zich had noticed too many problems that others had missed. In the Blackwater Swamp, Zich had taken a situation that was extremely unfavorable to him and forcibly twisted it into his own rhythm. Even in the chaotic free for all at the end of the elimination stage, Jayden had to admit that without Zich holding things together, humanity’s performance wouldn’t have been nearly as stable.

In a way, he even felt a trace of admiration for Zich.

The moment that thought surfaced, Jayden’s eyes went cold again.

He was a Smith. He couldn’t let himself be shaken by the son of a graveyard keeper. And he couldn’t continue to look like a joke being led around by his emotions in front of so many eyes.

So he pushed all those thoughts back down. When he spoke again, his tone had returned to its usual coldness.

"I won’t deliberately hold us back, and I won’t do anything in the tournament that harms humanity’s standing. But that doesn’t mean I trust you."

Zich picked up his cup and said, "As long as you don’t stab me in the back, don’t take my things, and don’t expect me to explain the stuff going on in my life, I’m generally easy to work with."

The table went quiet for a moment.

The atmosphere had eased slightly after that conversation. It wasn’t the kind of easing that suddenly made the four of them feel like friends, but at least they had moved from being on the verge of snapping at each other to barely tolerating sitting at the same table and eating.

Helen was visibly relieved. Mira still drank her dark colored beverage quietly. Zich focused more of his attention on the food on the table. Only Jayden sat there in silence, sneaking a look or two at Zich from time to time.

Just then, the noise at the entrance suddenly quieted. Curious, Zich followed the crowd’s gaze.

Four people walked in.

The one in front was a golden haired young man in a white gold coat. The fabric was clean, the cut neat, and his face carried a gentle smile. His pace was unhurried, and he made no effort to project any aura, yet the moment he appeared, the conversations of many candidates and information dealers nearby grew softer.

Behind him followed two girls and a boy.

They were equally neatly dressed, their movements unhurried, carrying the poise shaped by family training and etiquette. Compared to the candidates in the bar who had just gone through the first stage, exhausted, they looked too radiant and clean.

"Lucien Vilhart," someone murmured in shock. "The candidates from Fourth Shelter."

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