Chapter 295: Last Semester (2)
Parent observation classes have begun.
The training ground for the final exam rankings.
Tudor and Bianca, the cold-class students, and Grenouille and Sinclair, the hot-class students, compete against each other.
Other top-performing second-year and third-year students also take the stage.
The same goes for Dolores, the student council president and third-year senior.
The scene was being presented as an example to a crowd of parents.
Parents and children met inside the academy and exchanged greetings.
"My boy – I've missed you! Are you eating well?"
"Uh-huh. By the way, daughter, why aren't you joining the ranking battle over there?"
"What? Is that where they decide the head of the class? Aha, it's not a stage where normal kids stand."
"Next time, make sure you get to stand up there."
"It's a relief to know that my child is in a class with such brilliant kids."
"You should definitely surround yourself with friends like that, that's what we sent you to Colosseo Academy for."
As the parents react with encouragement, pressure, and praise, a new competition and socialization is created.
This is what parent-observation classes were designed to do in the first place.
Meanwhile. Tudor and Bianca, who are about to compete in the final exam, were exchanging nerves even before the match.
"I can't embarrass my father when he's watching, so I'm sorry, I'm going to have to step on you."
"My father's here too, so I can't let you off the hook today."
"You say that like you usually do, but your midterm grade was lower than mine."
"That's not true, I was above you."
"You were 6th, and I was 3rd?"
"Yeah, but that's before the performance evaluation, attitude points, and extracurricular points... I'm one point higher than you."
"Are you even taking all that into account? I don't care. Today, I will overturn all the little things."
"Turn over? You must have said turn over in the wrong way."
"What kind of person do you think you are, talking like a girl? You're so bad."
"What's a girl got to do with it? If you put it that way, why are you such a weakling?"
"I'm not weak, just wait until we start a match."
"You suck."
"You suck, too."
Tudor and Bianca continued to argue.
Meanwhile. There was an icy silence between Grenouille and Sinclair in the Hot Class.
It was Grenouille who broke the silence first.
"Hey, commoner. As of today, I, Grenouille, the newest member of the Aristocracy faction, will be taking over the leadership position."
"...."
"Not even the top of the class and the next student council president can go to a commoner!"
"...."
"No complaints, huh?"
Grenouille gripped the weight as hard as he could, secretly hoping Sinclair would respond.
But nothing came back.
"...It's also childish."
Sinclair muttered, looking off into the distance at the mountains with an unmoved expression.
Her usual innocent, sunny childlike demeanor was gone, replaced by the vibe of a much older sister.
Grenouille didn't know why Sinclair had changed so much overnight, but for some reason he felt his heart pounding.
Next. The professor's voice echoed through the audience.
[Attention mothers and fathers, the final round of grade-level exams is about to begin!]
The final event of the final exam was about to begin.
* * *
"...."
Quite a distance away from the training grounds where the final exam ranking game was being held.
A person stood on a wicker bench with an old well.
Dolores L Quovadis. A third-year student and student council president.
The final match of the final exam is decided to be hers.
Once the competition between a total of four first-year and second-year students in the Hot and Cold Class is completed, it will soon be Dolores' turn.
But right now, she has something else on her mind, something more important than her final exam.
It was the matches of the Hot class first years. Specifically, Sinclair.
'...What should I say to Sinclair?'
Sinclair, who advanced to the finals today, was told that no one would show up during parent attendance.
Dolores thought she would approach Sinclair after the game, when everyone's attention had faded, and try to talk to her.
'But how do I talk to her?'
After that day at the Bourgeois, Sinclair had avoided seeing Dolores.
She seemed to be warming up to everyone, but she was being unusually closed off to Dolores.
'... It's not surprising, after what happened to her.'
Dolores sighs, unsure of how to approach Sinclair.
"...!"
Her eyes went wide for a moment.
A familiar face passed in front of her.
A male student trudging towards a well in the distance. It was Vikir.
Suddenly, Dolores remembered Sinclair's comment.
'By the way. Why don't we ask hyung-ah to join us?'
Dolores remembered the first time she'd created an Oracle Investment Fund to hunt Belial.
'... Is he interested in something like this?'
Dolores asked, and Sinclair replied with a bright smile.
'Vikir's pretty good at it too, he reads all the newspapers all the time, so he knows what's going on in society, and lately he's been really interested in economics, like trade with the natives in the west, and he's been going through all the old economic papers too, and he's really keen!'
'Hyung-ah often comes to the library, so I'll have to talk to him when I'm a librarian.'
'Oh, that's right~ Hyung, I don't know where you are wandering around like that these days. Piggy is in the same room, so do you know anything?'
At that time, Sinclair seemed to have quite the crush on Vikir.
If so, they must have been quite close.
Dolores jumped to her feet. She was going to ask to speak to Sinclair.
Just then.
A young child ran in front of Dolores.
Ebony hair, red eyes, white skin, and chubby cheeks. Cute like a doll.
It was only a brief glimpse, but the little girl, who was adorable from head to toe, was running toward Vikir in front of her.
Then she turned to Vikir and said something unbelievable.
"Daddy-!"
The words shocked Dolores.
He'd heard that the docile kitten was the first to climb the shack, but wasn't this one climbing too fast?
'Oh, no. Who the hell is her mother at that age?'
Dolores stops dead in her tracks.
...Tud, Patter-
Vikir grabbed the girl by his side and quickly began to run forward.
"Huh? Huh!"
Dolores hurriedly scrambled down the hill from the bench, but Vikir had already taken off down the path by the well in the distance.
* * *
Vikir headed toward the less traveled path.
Stopping beside an old well, Vikir set the girl down from his side.
"Pomerian, when did you get here, and who is your guardian?"
"Hehe- sneaking off with Big Samchun(uncle). He never lets me play."
At Pomerian's playful words, Vikir put his hand to his forehead.
The news that 'they' had traveled to the Imperial Capital for parental visits had come through Cindiwendy not long ago.
'Highbro, Midbro, and Lowbro seem to be doing a good job of dealing with them, so I guess I let my guard down.'
I'm sure there will be some chaos when they realize Pomeranian is gone.
I had to get her back on track before that happened.
Vikir grabbed Pomerian's hand.
"Come on, let's go. Your uncle will take you to the front."
"Ugh!"
Pomerian still stiffened at Vikir's words.
As they walked down the path below, holding hands, Vikir carefully asked about Pomerian's condition.
"How's the Wraith Tree doing these days?"
"It's growing well, but sometimes I have nightmares at night!"
"Nightmares? What kind of nightmares?"
"When I have nightmares, I keep seeing demonic things come out and bite me-"
Pomerian shuddered once.
Vikir nodded and patted Pomerian's head.
"The demons in your nightmares have nightmares, too."
"Who's in the demons' nightmares?"
" ... This uncle comes out."
In an eerie voice, Vikir pulls out the Beelzebub on his wrist and shows it to her, and Pomerian's eyes sparkle with yearning.
"Oh wow- Uncle Mercy."
"So you don't have to fear any demons or anything. You have this uncle."
So Pomerian can continue to grow her Wraith Tree without any pressure.
One day, it will add great power to the human alliance.
Just then.
Someone grabbed Vikir's collar as he was about to leave the well.
The moment when Vikir turned his head in surprise at the hand that approached him without any sign of affection.
"Ugh, I'm thirsty. Where's the well here, old man?"
An old woman appeared somewhat unexpectedly and was pulling the end of Vikir's coat collar.
Shabby white priest's robes, hunched waist, round face, glasses resting just barely on the bridge of her nose, eyes squinting as if in sorrow.
At first glance, she's just another old woman.
But when Vikir saw her face, he couldn't help but be surprised.
'This person...?'
Here was the biggest variable in the parent observation class.
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