How Could the Villainous Young Master Be a Saintess?

“Huh?”

Vinny was startled. He had been ridiculously unlucky these past two days; he’d finally managed to crawl out of the mud, just recovered from his serious “illness” and come out for a walk to relax—how was he still running into someone he knew??

Besides, inside Carillian Academy, he didn’t seem to have that many acquaintances to begin with, right? Who would be coming to him at a time like this??

Vinny turned around, and his expression instantly turned strange.

Behind him, the one who had patted his shoulder was a man with no particular distinguishing features, the type with a completely average face. But he’d gone all-in on his styling: his bangs were done up in a very cutting-edge way, and it even looked like he’d applied a bit of subtle foundation on his face. His not-very-handsome looks had been raised a good few notches.

He was wearing the Carillian Academy boys’ uniform, and he was just a tiny bit taller than Vinny.

Mm, just going by the styling, Vinny could pretty much guess what kind of guy he was.

What kind of reason does someone have for pouring this much effort into making himself look good—especially when that someone is a guy? Think it through just a little and you know.

Huh. Unfamiliar face. I’ve literally never seen him before.

The moment he saw the guy, that faint sense of weirdness in Vinny’s heart rose up.

As a rule, strangers who came looking for him out of nowhere were rarely here with good intentions.

“This friend, I don’t think you and I know each other, and we haven’t met before today.” Vinny’s expression was full of distance, and his tone had no warmth in it.

Maybe it was that his recent experiences had taught him that nothing good came of situations like this. Or maybe his personality had already undergone some subtle changes compared to before—he did not like having his shoulder touched by someone he didn’t know, any kind of physical contact and the like.

“Haha, that’s true enough. But I do know you, Vinny, and I’d very much like to get to know you.”

The boy in front of him laughed brightly and made a very chummy move—going to sling his arm around Vinny’s shoulders.

However, before he could complete the whole series of actions, Vinny’s hand flicked his arm away.

“This friend, talking is fine—could you not use your hands? I don’t think we’re familiar enough for that level of contact.” Vinny frowned.

“Ah, of course, of course. I’m terribly sorry.” The boy’s movements froze for a second, but he quickly recovered, still wearing that hearty smile.

“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Luther Siris, eldest son of the Siris family and, as you can see, also a student of Carillian Academy.”

He gave an elegant noble’s bow.

How to put it... it looked like he understood etiquette, but Vinny just felt something was off.

Maybe it was that after spending so much time with true high-born ladies—Isatia, Aesphyra, Mirexia—who were noble in the real, bone-deep sense and genuine royal ladies in name and fact, the kind of etiquette that wasn’t cultivated from the inside, that hadn’t grasped the essence and seemed more like something forced for the sake of some goal, just felt jarringly fake.

It was the feeling of someone who had only learned the posture and surface, without truly understanding anything inside.

From that alone, you could tell the other party was no great noble. He might not even count as a small noble.

Vinny certainly didn’t look down on commoner students. It was just that this person’s clothes and styling, along with the posture he was putting on—inclusive of the way he’d introduced himself with his family name—made it very obvious he saw himself as a noble.

But how to say this? He honestly would have been better off not learning any of that. Just acknowledge your own status. Some things, if you force yourself to learn them and still never learn them properly, and an insider can see at a glance how much of it is just an act, it becomes downright ridiculous.

The most embarrassing thing isn’t having weak “goods.” It’s having weak goods and still pretending they’re top-tier, only to be exposed by an expert. That’s what’s truly mortifying.

Still, Siris?

Vinny couldn’t shake the feeling that this family name rang a bell, but the impression was faint. He couldn’t remember where he’d heard it.

“Oh. Hello. So, what did you come to me for?” Vinny asked with his hands in his pockets. “I’m guessing you didn’t come here purely to make friends.”

“How do you know I didn’t?” Luther chuckled. “This isn’t really the place to talk, Young Master Vinny. What do you say?”

As he spoke, Siris pointed toward a café a short distance away.

Vinny frowned. He really didn’t want to go drink coffee with a total stranger he wasn’t familiar with at all.

“Of course, Vinny. Since I’m the one actively asking to make friends with you, this meal’s on me, naturally.” Luther smiled.

“Fine.” Vinny didn’t refuse. If someone was inviting him to eat while he was walking down the street, why would he refuse?

Not that Vinny actually believed he had enough charm to make some stranger randomly treat him to a meal.

Once they got to the café, Vinny ordered a few dishes and drinks he liked, then handed the menu across to Luther at the opposite seat.

“Vinny, that’s not much. How about we order a bit more?”

As he spoke, Luther stood up, walked around to Vinny’s side, and bent down toward him.

“No need. It’s not easy for the farmers to grow grain. If we order too much and waste it, that’d be bad.” Vinny instinctively leaned back into the sofa. He did not want Luther making physical contact with him.

He just felt this man in front of him was extremely greasy, whether it was his clothes and styling or the way he talked—and Vinny did not like people like that.

“Luther, just order from over there and sit in your seat. I can see what you’re pointing at.” Vinny said.

“Vinny, don’t you feel like it’s a bit too far between us if we sit across from each other like this?” Luther said with an easy grin.

“Not at all. I think people need a bit of distance when they interact. Distance is what creates beauty, no?” Vinny refused outright.

At this point, he was honestly starting to feel a little sick.

What did two grown men need to be squeezed together for??

Especially when he wasn’t even familiar with the guy.

This was just way too presumptuous.

“All right then, if that’s how you feel.” Luther sat back down in his own seat.

Vinny glanced around at where they were sitting. It was quite far inside, the kind of spot where anyone walking in the corridor would have no way to clearly see what was happening in the booth.

“I heard Vinny has already stepped into the Magus realm—third one in the first-years to do it. That’s really impressive. Right now the whole academy is talking about you. When I was in my first year, I was only at low-tier Sorcerer-class. I couldn’t compare to you at all.”

“Actually, forget my first year—even now, I still can’t compare to you.”

“So you’re a senior?” Vinny said. “You flatter me. My Spirit Soul is low quality, only one-star. Being able to advance to the Magus realm was pure luck—the difficulty is low, it’s mostly just luck.”

He directly repeated the things he’d overheard people saying about him on the street.

Anyway, that was probably exactly what the rumors said, right?

The reason he said it, though, wasn’t because he wanted to hide his strength. He just purely didn’t want to keep talking about this topic.

He was only here to eat. If he weren’t being treated by someone else, he wouldn’t even have come. He really didn’t have any desire to keep chatting with the other guy.

After that, Luther started chatting about everything under the sun with Vinny. Vinny could tell the other guy was very talkative, a master at picking up on a conversation—the kind of person who never let a topic fall flat.

Vinny was only giving him half-hearted replies now and then, but Luther still managed to keep the conversation going with full enthusiasm, and even made it quite entertaining. Vinny was honestly shocked—how could someone be this good at picking up and extending a conversation??

You had to admit: among all the trades under the sun, every trade has its top masters. Being able to talk was a kind of art too.

It was just that, even if talking was an art, if the listener didn’t like hearing it, it was pointless.

No real reason beyond the pure fact that he just didn’t like people who were this greasy. So no matter how wonderful Luther’s chatter was, no matter how skillfully he picked up the conversation, all he got from Vinny were a few [N O V E L I G H T] “mm”s and “yeah”s.

Soon, the dishes arrived.

Vinny ate as he continued his desultory conversation with Luther.

“Luther, if you’ve got something to say, just say it.”

As he ate, Vinny picked up a napkin and wiped the corner of his mouth. “You don’t have much time left. If you still don’t get to the main point, I’m going to be done eating.”

“Hahaha, Vinny, the main point is what I’ve been talking about all along. What I want is for us to be friends.” Luther was still all smiles.

“Friends? So why does it have to be me?” Vinny asked, curious.

“Listen to you. Right now you’re the hottest name in Carillian Academy. One more friend, one more path to walk—and you, especially, have limitless prospects,” Luther said with a laugh.

“But I already said I got where I am purely by luck. I’m sure that’s what everyone else is saying too.”

Vinny cut off the conversational opening before Luther could even pick it up, killing the line of talk as hard as he could. However hard he could kill it, that was how hard he killed it. He wasn’t good at talking to begin with, so this level of performance was entirely normal for him.

“Vinny, you’re being way too modest. These days it’s obvious to anyone with eyes that you’re someone special. A golden-scaled carp was never meant to stay in a shallow pond; you’re bound to soar high in the future.”

“Someone with your kind of prospects—forget inside the academy, I’m sure there’s already a whole crowd of people outside lining up to curry favor with you.” Luther smiled. “I’m just one more ordinary person in that crowd. To be honest, my talent isn’t very strong. Getting into Carillian Academy already took a lot of luck. My talent’s ceiling is basically fixed, so of course I want to make more friends here.”

“That’s one of the reasons I came to this academy in the first place. After all, whoever manages to graduate from here—who among them isn’t a dragon or phoenix among people?”

If this were the old Vinny, he might have believed it. But the Vinny of today...

“Oh. Well, since that’s the case, Luther, your goal’s achieved. I’m full, so I’ll be going.”

As he spoke, Vinny stood up, intending to leave.

“Vinny, I still have a slice of cake here that I haven’t touched yet. Do you want it?” Luther suddenly said.

“Cake? No need. Too greasy. I probably couldn’t finish it. You eat it yourself.” Vinny waved a hand.

“Hey, hey, Vinny, don’t go, don’t go. I really do have a favor I want to ask you.” Luther finally got to the point.

At that, Vinny only hooked the corner of his mouth and sat back down, calmly looking at Luther.

For some reason, seeing this, Luther suddenly felt like whatever he was about to say probably wasn’t going to work out.

Hadn’t the boss said before he came that Vinny was just some punk with nothing to him, a brat who’d gotten where he was purely on luck??

Why did his whole vibe feel completely different from the description??

As a bona fide social butterfly, Luther had dealt with quite a few third- and fourth-year seniors. On them, there was this steadiness and calm that came from fighting their way through blood and fire, like nothing could shake their composure.

Right now, Vinny was giving Luther a similar feeling to those upper-year seniors who’d been through countless battlefields and trials—the kind of steady air that came from endless real combat.

To the point that, once Vinny let his presence spread, Luther felt like he couldn’t get any words out.

As a seasoned social veteran, Luther’s talent in magic was extremely limited, and he had no real force or family he could rely on. For someone with his level of magical talent to make it into Carillian Academy at all, aside from his magic, he’d put all the remaining “talent points” he had into reading people.

He could already vaguely sense that Vinny was absolutely not the way the rumors described him—not someone who’d advanced to the Magus realm purely on luck with a low-quality Spirit Soul.

This Vinny might really be something else in the future.

Of course, students at Carillian Academy were extraordinary to begin with. When he said “something else,” he meant compared to the other students of Carillian Academy.

Honestly, if it weren’t absolutely necessary, he really wouldn’t want to provoke someone like this.

But he had no choice.

“So, here’s the thing, Vinny. I mentioned my surname was Siris earlier, right?” Luther said with a placating smile.

“Mm. I remember.”

“Then, Vinny... do you happen to remember someone named Wood Siris?”

“Wood Siris.”

Vinny’s brows knit, and he fell abruptly silent.

Then, under Luther’s extremely nervous gaze, Vinny tilted his head after a long moment of pondering and suddenly said, “And who is Wood Siris supposed to be?”

“Ahem. He’s my younger brother. Sigh, sigh, I have to admit our family discipline hasn’t been strict enough. Some time ago, that brat must have had a screw loose—he secretly swapped your token and got caught by you, then you hauled him off to the Student Council.”

Seeing that Vinny didn’t even remember who Wood was, Luther was a bit speechless and could only explain.

As he explained, he carefully watched the changes in Vinny’s expression.

“Oh, I remember now. Him, huh. You’re his brother?” Vinny tilted his head.

“Yes, that’s right. He’s my foolish little brother.”

Luther watched Vinny’s reaction and noticed that after hearing about his relationship with Wood, Vinny’s expression hadn’t darkened at all. It was exactly the same as before.

That surprised Luther. After all, however you put it, Wood had deliberately tried to take his life. Hearing that Luther was Wood’s blood brother, how could Vinny’s expression not change at all?

“Vinny, don’t get the wrong idea. I had no idea what my brother was doing back then—”

“I know. You don’t have to explain.” Vinny didn’t particularly care.

“Then... Vinny, you don’t mind this?” Luther was very surprised.

“Me? Why would I mind?” Vinny chuckled. “You are you. He is him. Aren’t you?”

Luther didn’t answer. He could tell that line from Vinny was just polite small talk.

From Vinny’s eyes, he understood what Vinny really meant at this moment.

It was a kind of leisure, a kind of ease.

Whether it was him or his brother Wood, Vinny simply did not care.

Vinny did not consider either of them capable of posing any threat to him.