Johan was sitting in the old oak tree, perched on a high branch where the leaves provided perfect camouflage. The rough bark was warm beneath him, and the afternoon breeze rustled through the canopy. It was a hiding place he had perfected over years of avoiding responsibility.
"Johan, where are you? Your patients will arrive any minute!" Jennifer's voice echoed through the garden below, sharp with irritation.
She was holding a spatula in one hand—not as a cooking utensil, but as a weapon of sisterly retribution.
"Eee!" Johan trembled in fear, knowing full well what would happen if Jennifer caught him.
Then, from below, a different voice called up: "Johan? Are you up there?"
Johan looked down. Standing beneath the tree was Emma, one of his patients and also his lover. But she was not alone. Beside her stood another woman—tall, elegant, with an air of authority that suggested she was someone important.
"Why are you on the tree? Is everything fine?" Emma asked him with genuine care, her expression filled with concern.
Johan's heart sank. This was not a good moment to be discovered playing in trees.
He carefully climbed down the branches, dropping the last few feet to land beside Emma. He straightened his jacket and tried to regain his composure, as if it were completely normal to be hiding in trees during patient appointment hours.
"Good morning," Johan greeted them both, attempting to sound professional.
"Johan, I—" Emma began, but Johan's mind immediately jumped to the worst possible conclusion. His hand shot up defensively.
"No! I don't want to marry you," Johan blurted out, the words tumbling out before Emma could even finish her sentence. "Even if you come with your family, or your friends, or your entire neighbourhood—no means no."
The woman beside Emma started laughing—a warm, genuine laugh that echoed through the garden.
Emma's face turned a deep shade of red. She hid her face in her hands, absolutely mortified by Johan's premature rejection.
"Doctor, don't worry. I'm not here for that," the woman said, her amusement clear in her voice. "I am Olivia Vasiliev, the founder of Verity World NGO. I'm here on business, not romance."
Johan felt embarrassed. "Oh—ah, I'm so sorry for misunderstanding. That was incredibly rude of me."
Olivia's smile didn't fade. "Don't worry at all. I know very well how much you are loved by others. Emma here has talked about you quite a bit—saying you're handsome and all sorts of other flattering things."
Johan turned to look at Emma with an unenthusiastic expression, his eyebrow raised in clear scepticism.
"Madame, please stop," Emma said, her voice muffled and absolutely mortified.
"Let's talk inside," Johan said quickly, eager to escape the embarrassing conversation. "We can discuss whatever business you came for in a more appropriate setting."
He opened the gate, and they entered the mansion together.
After seeing the guests enter, Jennifer stepped out from where she had been watching. She quickly hid the spatula behind her back, trying to look innocent and professional.
"Emma, how are you?" Jennifer greeted her warmly, as if she hadn't just been on a mission to strike her brother with cooking utensils.
Emma glanced at Jennifer's hidden hand. "Fine, but what are you hiding?"
Johan, watching the exchange, peeked at Jennifer's concealed hand. The moment he caught sight of the spatula, he took several steps backwards, his earlier fear returning in full force.
Jennifer suppressed a smile at his reaction.
"Madame, let me introduce you properly," Emma said, stepping into the role of diplomat. "This is Jennifer, the twin sister of Johan."
"I would have understood that perfectly without the introduction," Olivia said with an amused smile, studying the obvious family resemblance. "The similarities are unmistakable."
"Jennifer, this is Olivia Vasiliev," Johan introduced, still eyeing his sister's hidden spatula with wariness.
"Olivia Vasiliev?" Jennifer's expression shifted to recognition. "I believe I know of you. Aren't you the founder of Verity World?"
"Yes, exactly," Olivia confirmed, moving to sit in one of the comfortable chairs in the reception area. "I founded Verity World as an NGO dedicated to women's justice and child safety improvement in this society."
She pulled a newspaper from her bag and showed them an article. It was the same article about Anni's incident—the attempted suicide, the hospital rescue, the arrest of Mayor Jones.
"I assume you've heard about Anni's case? The stepdaughter of the former mayor?" Olivia asked.
Johan and Jennifer exchanged a quick glance, their expressions shifting to something more serious.
"Yes, we've heard the news," Jennifer said carefully, her protective instincts activating immediately.
"Our NGO is currently helping Anni recover," Olivia explained, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "She's physically recovering well, thankfully, but mentally she's quite broken. Her mother finally decided to seek professional help—specifically therapy to address the trauma she's experienced. However, we've encountered a significant problem."
She paused, letting the weight of the situation settle.
"Most therapists have refused to take her case. Some cite the trauma involved, others the complicated legal aspects of the ongoing trial. And for those who would help, their fees are far beyond what Anni's mother can afford now. She's already lost income because of the scandal and the legal proceedings."
Johan took the newspaper and read through the article carefully, absorbing the details. He could see the pain between the lines—the girl who had nearly died, the mother who had been too afraid to protect her, the system that had failed them both.
When he finished reading, he looked up at Olivia with absolute conviction.
"From me, the therapy sessions are free for her," Johan said firmly. "If any further treatment is needed—medication, additional consultations, anything at all—I will pay for it myself. No child should suffer in silence because of financial hardship."
Olivia's eyes widened with genuine gratitude. "Oh, Doctor, thank you for your kindness and compassion. This will help her so much."
"You don't need to worry about her care anymore," Johan said with quiet determination. "She will receive the best treatment I can provide. That is my promise."
Jennifer looked at her brother with pride, understanding completely why he had made such a commitment. This was who Johan was—someone who couldn't turn away from suffering, especially when it involved children.
"Thank you both," Olivia said, her voice filled with emotion. "Knowing that Anni will have proper support means everything. Let me give you our contact information. You can reach out to us anytime if you need additional resources or support."
As Olivia wrote down her contact details, Johan glanced at Emma, who was watching him with an expression full of something he couldn't quite name. Admiration, perhaps? Or something deeper?
But he pushed the thought aside. Right now, what mattered was that Anni would get help. That she would have someone in her corner, someone who believed her pain was worth treating, worth fighting for.
That was enough.
After some time, Olivia and Emma left the mansion and entered the waiting carriage. As the horses began to move, Olivia gazed out at the passing city streets, watching the afternoon light paint everything in shades of gold.
Suddenly, she turned to face Emma, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"If you ever want to get married, then choose only Johan," Olivia said matter-of-factly, as if she were dispensing profound wisdom.
"Madame, please, don't talk about that." Emma protested weakly, her face already flushing at the suggestion.
Olivia leaned forward slightly, her expression becoming more serious. "Just a piece of advice, dear. Few men are truly capable of my appreciation. I don't like men as a rule, but as I said, some are capable of extraordinary kindness and principle. Johan is one of those rare ones."
She locked eyes directly with Emma, and a subtle, almost evil smile played across her lips.
"If you can't secure him for yourself, I will marry him."
Emma's entire body went rigid. "No, no, no, no, no, no…"
She literally collapsed onto Olivia's lap, overwhelmed with emotion, tears streaming down her face at the thought of losing Johan.
Olivia burst into laughter, her entire frame shaking with genuine amusement. "Hahahah, I am just joking, dear. Relax."
But Emma remained in Olivia's lap, crying simultaneously, her feelings for Johan suddenly laid bare.
Meanwhile, in the school, Joseph sat at his desk during history class.
His history teacher stood at the front of the room, and he was... distinctive. He wore a long, floor-length open robe in deep cerulean blue. Intricate gold filigree embroidery adorned the hem and cuffs, resembling ancient magical runes or holy symbols from forgotten eras. The inner lining was a contrasting muted burgundy, giving the garment an unmistakable regal weight.
The man looked like a priest from the medieval era—or someone's very confused interpretation of one.
A classmate beside Joseph whispered in his ear. "I guess this man lost his mind."
Another student behind Joseph added, "Yeah, we all lost our minds when we learned that our government changed history. But this man actually teaches it."
Joseph said nothing. He simply listened—and internally noted—the false narratives being presented.
"Then our Knowledge Lord went to Ditona village," the teacher proclaimed dramatically. "Our Führer welcomed him and said that I would be your greatest companion."
Joseph's mind immediately caught the contradiction. The Führer was born in 1863, and the Lord died over 300 years ago. This is complete fiction.
The lies were so blatant that they were almost offensive.
Suddenly, a student—a clever-looking boy with sharp eyes—stood up abruptly. "Sir, our class time is over."
Everyone froze. There were clearly almost ten minutes remaining, but the teacher apparently believed him.
"Did you see it on the clock?" the teacher asked, peering suspiciously at the timepiece on the wall.
"No, sir. I'm reading it by the position of the sun," the student replied smoothly.
The teacher's expression shifted to approval. "Good. Excellent observation. Class, our lesson for today is complete. We will continue tomorrow. I hope the Lord praises you for growing your knowledge."
He swept out of the classroom with the same dramatic flourish he had brought to his false history lesson.
The class let out a collective sigh of relief.
But some students approached the clever student afterwards. "Hey Monet, why did you lie to him?"
Monet grinned. "Don't worry. He never believes in clocks. He thinks clocks are made by demons to distract people from reality. He would never accept the time from someone who uses a clock. Only natural observation has validity in his mind."
Joseph nodded to himself, understanding the logic. To save ourselves from a liar, we need to use lies. It's the language he understands.
During lunch break, Joseph went to the library seeking solitude and honest books—a stark contrast to the propaganda he had endured in class.
The library was nearly empty, just a few students scattered among the shelves. He found Theo standing in front of a tall bookcase, thoughtfully studying the spine of a leather-bound volume.
"What are you reading?" Joseph asked, approaching him.
"Just normal books," Theo replied with a small smile. "Actual history, actual facts. A welcome change from morning classes."
Joseph took a book from the same shelf and began reading, settling into a comfortable silence beside his friend. They stood together in quiet companionship, two souls seeking truth in a world built on lies.
Suddenly, the library door burst open.
A girl rushed into the room and immediately moved toward Joseph. She dropped to one knee in an exaggerated medieval gesture of submission and respect.
"My lord, I finally found you!"
Joseph and Theo froze in absolute shock. The handful of other students in the library whipped around, their eyes wide with disbelief at what they were witnessing.
Theo's eyes widened in recognition. "Miss Kaeli?"
It was Kaeli—but not the Kaeli they knew from the New World Order headquarters. She was dressed in the standard school uniform, her hair neatly arranged, looking for all the world like a normal student.
Except she was currently kneeling before Joseph in full public view, addressing him as "My Lord."
Joseph's face drained of colour. This was the one thing he had hoped to avoid—exposure. Discovery. The revelation of what he truly was.
And it had just happened in the middle of a public library, with at least five witnesses.