I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Chapter 828: Disastrous

Northern settled at his table, carefully unpacking both food trays.

Yet, no matter how much he tried to ignore them, the stares remained—dagger-sharp, unwavering.

The weight of those gazes pressed against him, suffocating.

It was as if the ground beneath his feet had pulled away, leaving him suspended in the air—exposed. Even the floor itself felt like it was watching him.

And then, before he could fully grasp the situation, students in black uniforms began surrounding him.

One after another, they took seats at his table, murmuring in hushed voices, strange lights flickering in their eyes.

Northern sighed and dipped his head slightly.

’What the hell is going on?!’

’Is this some twisted consequence of my damn performance?’

A strong urge to sink into the ground shot through him. Maybe he should just use Shadow Step and vanish—retreat to the comfort of his room where he could eat in peace.

But... would that just make things worse?

’Should I just do it?’

The idea was tempting. He really wanted to do it.

But at the same time...

He couldn’t keep running away forever, could he?

If he wanted to grow—if he had to grow—then he needed to learn how to hold a normal conversation without either making it awkward or immediately wanting to escape.

Maybe... this was a necessary step.

Swallowing hard, Northern forced himself to focus on the meal before him.

With slow, deliberate movements, he unwrapped the gleaming silver utensils and took the spoon into his hand.

He scooped up a spoonful of rice, dipped it into the soup sauce, and brought it to his mouth—his hand trembling slightly.

Only now did he realize just how much he despised attention.

He had never received this much of it before. The reverence, the admiration, the silent expectation gleaming in their eyes—it all felt wrong.

Like it wasn’t meant for him.

Like he was sitting in someone else’s seat.

’Imposter syndrome?’

’Is that what this is called?’

’Or was it... something else? Fraudulent perception? Delusions of grandeur? Wait—no, that’s the opposite—what the hell was it again?!’

His thoughts spiraled, unraveling into a chaotic mess, his mind threatening to split under the pressure of too many people watching him.

He was thinking too much. Doing too much.

’Damn it, just focus on the food before you start thinking the food is staring at you too.’

Finally managing to push past the oppressive storm of thoughts crashing through his mind, Northern found a sliver of peace.

Still, a question lingered at the back of his mind.

’Where is that chatterbox and his Starchaser friends?’

He assumed their presence wouldn’t change much, but even a subtle distraction would have helped.

Then again, it almost felt like they were intentionally absent, as if they had predicted this exact situation. After all, they spent more time among the students than his clone did.

His clone hardly interacted. It mostly just stayed indoors.

Northern exhaled sharply and continued eating.

But his moment of peace was painfully short-lived.

A familiar figure approached, moving through the dining hall with a deliberate stride.

Dark skin, violet eyes, an undeniable air of confidence.

Northern frowned.

’What is he doing here?’

Kaelan reached the table, his gaze flicking to the non-combative student beside Northern, the light in his eyes kind yet unsettlingly sharp.

”Please, can you make way for me? I’d like to talk to my friend here.”

Kaelan was wearing a standard white tracksuit with black straps—recognized immediately as a training kit from the combative school. But he didn’t need the outfit to be recognized.

His presence alone was enough.

His unique skin tone, his family’s unwavering prestige, the mystical allure that clung to him like a second skin—it all demanded respect.

The student gulped, his eyes widening in silent reverence, his expression practically screaming: ”He spoke to me!!”

Kaelan smiled.

”So, what do you say?”

The student nodded frantically, fumbling to gather his food before clumsily vacating the seat.

Kaelan took the spot with casual ease, leaning one elbow on the table, resting his cheek against his hand.

And then he stared.

Northern tried to ignore it, focused on his meal. But soon, he felt like he wasn’t eating the food anymore—like the food was eating him.

He gritted his teeth, dropped the spoon, grabbed a bottle of water, and drank until it was half-empty. Then, with deliberate patience, he turned to face Kaelan and asked evenly:

”How can I help you?”

Kaelan’s smile widened, becoming almost pleasant.

”I like you.”

Northern blinked. Then he leaned back slightly, frowning.

”...Hmm. I see.”

He placed his hands on the table and sighed.

”I’ve been told on several occasions how handsome I am, so I suppose it makes sense that you’d mistake me for that kind of person. Actually, I haven’t really come out of the closet yet, but I can assure you—” he exhaled dramatically, ”—I don’t like you. And I never will.

”In fact, if we’re being pragmatic, I think I’d have a higher tendency to like your sister rather than you. But then again, she’s quite... lacking in some important areas.”

Silence.

Northern immediately froze.

’Shit.’

’I knew it! I shouldn’t have opened my mouth!’

It was as if the sheer weight of his previous overthinking had compressed into this very moment, squeezing words out of his mouth with zero time for him to process them.

There had to be a term for this. A condition.

Some kind of medical phenomenon? Mental?

’The Chaos Flames guards my mind, I can’t be mentally assaulted!’

So then what the hell is this?

Meanwhile, Kaelan was staring at him.

His eyes were wide.

His small, amused smile had frozen.

A moment later, a pearl of laughter burst from Kaelan’s mouth—light, amused, genuinely entertained.

He leaned back so suddenly that he nearly toppled from his seat, his body shaking from the force of his laughter.

Northern, however, was not finding any of this amusing.

His expression remained flat—his mind, chaotic.

Not only had he said way too much, but that last statement...

What the hell was that about?

And—wait—why the hell had he lied about people calling him handsome?!

No one had ever said that!

Not once!

’What exactly is wrong with me this morning?!’

Frustration bubbled under his skin, and a singular, unfiltered thought rang through his mind:

’People. People. I really hate people. They mess me the hell up.’