Clara was still a little stunned.
The contrast before her eyes was simply too great. Just moments ago, these people had spoken with arrogance and indifference. Now, every smile they wore looked carefully practiced, every word cautious to the point of stiffness.
Rick, on the other hand, appeared far calmer.
Having lived long enough and seen enough of the world, he wasn't surprised by such a reversal. In his heart, he silently confirmed one thing—approaching this dinner had been the right choice.
He clearly wasn't an ordinary person.
But Rick didn't act like someone borrowing another man's authority. Instead, he stepped slightly to the side and said politely,"Please, go ahead."
"No, no, no, you first."
The other professors and executives all forced smiles that barely reached their eyes. Their expressions were strained, as if their facial muscles were rebelling against them.
After several rounds of back-and-forth, Rick finally couldn't refuse any longer.
Rick, Clara, and Lily walked ahead.
The professors and company executives followed quietly behind them, their previous confidence nowhere to be seen.
When the three entered the private dining room, they immediately noticed someone already seated inside.
Jason.
He sat there casually, leaning back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, his expression relaxed—as though he were merely waiting for friends to arrive, not a group of people whose futures he could decide with a single sentence.
Rick, Clara, and Lily all subconsciously slowed their steps.
Seeing this, Jason smiled faintly and spoke first."No need to be so stiff. Sit."
Only then did Rick gently pull Clara to the seat beside him.
Lily sat on the outer side, though her attention never left Jason. She pretended to be calm, but her eyes kept drifting toward him, trying to read something—anything—from his expression.
Miller, Jack, and the rest of the group entered one after another, deliberately choosing seats farther away, leaving a clear, invisible boundary around Jason.
After everyone sat down, the atmosphere grew even heavier.
One by one, they raised their glasses toward Jason, offering toasts filled with flattering words and carefully chosen compliments. Yet when they saw Clara seated so close to him, the unease in their hearts only deepened.
They couldn't tell how close Clara and Jason truly were.
Classmates? Friends? Something more?
But even the word classmate felt dangerous now.
The fact that Jason hadn't mentioned earlier events didn't mean they didn't exist.
On the contrary—it felt more like a silent grace period.
If Jason chose to bring it up himself… none of them doubted the outcome.
Finally, Miller was the first to stand.
He said, forcing enthusiasm into his voice, "you toasted me earlier, but I didn't get the chance to return it. Let me make up for that now."
He picked up a small glass of whiskey.
Then a second.
Then a third.
Miller's tolerance was clearly average at best. By the time the third glass went down, his face had turned red, and his stomach churned violently. Still, he forced a smile, afraid to show even the slightest weakness.
Rick instinctively reached for his own glass.
a immediately waved his hand."No, no—drink as you like, Mr. Rick. As you like."
Throughout the entire exchange, Jack and the other executives kept sneaking glances at Jason.
Jason remained silent.
He didn't lift his glass.
He didn't speak.
He simply sat there, calm and composed, his presence alone pressing down on the room like an invisible weight.
And that silence was far more terrifying than any threat.
By now, no one at the table doubted it anymore.
Jason was backing Clara.
That realization hit harder than any slap.
Miller reacted instantly. Almost too fast.
He stood up abruptly, nearly knocking his chair over, grabbed a glass of liquor, and forced a smile that looked more like a grimace.
"Mr. Rick," he said quickly, "what happened earlier—we went too far with those jokes. I sincerely apologize. Please don't take it to heart."
Before Rick could even respond, Miller poured himself a full glass.
Then another.
Then a third.
He drank them down in one breath after another.
By the time the third glass was empty, his face had turned crimson, sweat forming at his temples, but he still bowed slightly, his posture low.
A slightly overweight executive followed immediately after.
He didn't dare hesitate.
He poured himself a glass of strong liquor and drank it down.
Then another.
Halfway through the second glass, his face twisted, and he suddenly rushed to the corner of the private room.
The sound of violent retching echoed through the air.
A few people looked away in discomfort.
After vomiting, the man wiped his mouth with a napkin, straightened his wrinkled suit, and staggered back as if nothing had happened.
"I—I'm fine," he said hoarsely, already pouring himself another drink.
At this point, dignity no longer mattered.
Survival did.
Then, the most humiliating scene unfolded.
The executive who had earlier tossed peanuts at Rick—ordering him to catch them with his mouth like a trained animal—stood up trembling.
"Mr. Rick," he said carefully, swallowing hard, "why don't… why don't you throw some peanuts at me instead?"
The room went dead silent.
Rick frowned.
"There's no need," he said calmly. "Let's forget about it."
But the man shook his head desperately.
"No—no, I insist."
He bent slightly, lowered his posture, and even tilted his head back, waiting.
Rick hesitated for a moment.
Then, for Clara's sake, he picked up a few peanuts and lightly tossed them.
The first missed.
The second missed.
The third—barely—was caught.
Only then did the man finally relax, as if he'd just been granted a pardon.
Clara watched everything quietly.
And suddenly, her vision blurred.
Her eyes filled with tears.
But this time, it wasn't grievance.
It was relief.
It was joy.
For the first time in a long, long while, her father had regained his dignity—openly, undeniably, in front of everyone.
She turned her head slowly and looked at Jason.
Her gaze was softer than it had ever been before.
She knew.
Today—
He protected her father's dignity.
She had still been naïve.
She hadn't truly understood what that protection meant.
Now, she saw it clearly.
In this society, the ability to protect dreams—and dignity—was priceless.
Clara: Favorability +30
Her voice was barely louder than a whisper.
Hoarse from crying earlier.
Soft, fragile—but filled with sincerity.
"Thank you… Jason."
He didn't respond immediately.
But the faint smile at the corner of his lips said everything.
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