Scheming

Victoria and Collins were walking on the way back to the girls’ dormitory.

Collins had originally planned to take Victoria for a stroll around the campus, but unfortunately, by the time they finished eating, it was already quite late, so the campus tour had to be postponed for now.

Halfway through their walk, Collins suddenly asked Victoria:

“What kind of person do you think Senior Sphinx is?”

Victoria stopped in her tracks.

“He’s… a very interesting person.”

Collins nodded, then said:

“Someone once told me that Senior Sphinx is a manipulative schemer, a jerk who plays with people’s feelings. I didn’t believe it at first, but after talking to him more just now, I realized that person was right.”

Victoria looked at Collins in surprise. Collins had a smile on his face.

“I once asked my father what kind of person could be considered scheming.”

“My father told me that scheming people generally fall into three categories. The first type is the lowest level—the kind who harm others to benefit themselves. These people are simply villains; every relationship to them is a tool for betrayal. Being around them gives you nothing but disgust and resentment. It’s never surprising when such people experience betrayal themselves.”

“The second type… is like Senior Sphinx. Even if you were sold out by him, you would still like him.”

Victoria didn’t understand what Collins meant.

‘The friendship of a gentleman is as plain as water, while that of a petty man is as sweet as wine. Do you understand? This kind of person is very good at managing relationships. Even if he is scheming against you, being with him still feels pleasant. In ancient times, kings always had two kinds of people by their side: the favored minister and the capable minister. Everyone knew that the favored minister was inferior to the capable one, yet the favored still stood alongside the capable. This required not just flattery, but far more—scheming.

Just like Senior Sphinx—he is using us to earn his credits. But just now, didn’t you feel that helping him earn a few credits wasn’t really unpleasant at all?”

Victoria didn’t speak. She had known Sphinx for a long time, but hearing Collins’ words now filled her with a strange discomfort.

Collins’ breathing grew heavier, and an odd smile appeared on his face.

“Do you think I am criticizing Senior Sphinx?”

“Well, I’ve known Sphinx for a long time, actually…”

Collins shook his head.

“I’m not criticizing him at all. In fact, when it comes to making friends, the friendship of a gentleman is rather uncomfortable. Most people prefer the petty man’s friendship—and I’m no exception. If I had to share the credit for my research with someone else, rather than with strangers, I’d much rather share it with Senior Sphinx.”

“Then you…”

“I’m just complaining a little. I’m not good at socializing, and I don’t really understand the calculations between people. It’s kind of funny, actually—before returning to school, I was tricked by my little sister once. That time left me in a very miserable state. I swore I would make her feel the pain I suffered.”

“But… how will you make her suffer?”

Collins closed his eyes. In his mind appeared the image of Moyue—the little girl who had schemed against him—now wearing her student uniform, tightly bound with ropes, her mouth stuffed so she couldn’t speak a word.

Collins stood to the side, holding a slender whip in his hand.

That was his initial fantasy. He thought that punishing his disobedient sister with physical pain would be a great way to teach her a lesson. Physical pain, though short and intense, was the simplest form of revenge for someone as shallow as Collins.

But just now, seeing Sphinx’s graceful maneuvers, he suddenly realized that perhaps there was a better way to deal with his foolish sister.

Causing pain doesn’t always require physical punishment.

“Hey, Senior?”

“Huh?”

Victoria met Collins’ gaze.

“Just now, I talked with Senior for a long time, so I didn’t have a chance to say some things. Now that it’s just the two of us, I won’t hide anything. If I say anything impolite, please forgive me.”

“Alright, go ahead.”

Collins took a deep breath.

“For our experiment, I have only one request—I hope you won’t interfere with me, and I won’t interfere with you.”

“Huh? Don’t interfere with you?”

“Yes. I’ll do everything you ask me to do, but since our departments are different and our specialties don’t match, I’ll only do what you specifically tell me to do. Everything else—I don’t want to get involved in.”

Collins smiled. It wasn’t a pleasant smile, but a cold, distant one that kept people a thousand miles away.

That kind of solitude gave Victoria an unspeakable sense of pain.

In Collins, she saw a loneliness deeper than what she had ever experienced.

But unlike her, Collins seemed to enjoy it. He didn’t mind his solitude at all—in fact, he savored it.

“I don’t know if Senior Sphinx told you, but the reason I agreed to help you isn’t out of kindness. I just don’t want to get involved in another power struggle at this school. To me, you’re just an excuse to avoid that. So don’t read too much into it. I really hate when people disturb my life.”

“Well… I…”

Collins placed a finger on his lips, and Victoria fell silent. Collins chuckled softly.

“Hey, Senior, we’re just passing travelers in each other’s lives. Let’s not think too much about each other. When this experiment ends, let’s part on good terms, alright?”

Victoria didn’t respond, so Collins took it as agreement. He turned around and walked decisively into the darkness.

His mage’s robe blended seamlessly with the shadows, and his silhouette in the dark seemed perfectly natural—like he had always belonged there, and would eventually disappear there as well.