"Mm—haaa… all rested!"
Lucian bounced out of bed, refreshed and energized. Another great day.
He grabbed his phone, exiting the pink-colored app he'd been looking at last night before falling asleep. The time read exactly 6 a.m.
After talking with Angelina, he hadn't gotten back to his room until after two. So he'd slept less than four hours.
But he didn't feel tired at all—wide awake, clear-headed.
Must've been one of the quirks of his race.
He'd discovered as a kid that whenever he focused his attention on the Halo above his head, his thoughts would instantly sharpen, clearer than any meditation technique.
At first, he thought all Sankta could do that.
But after asking Exusiai, he learned that most Sankta couldn't. For them, the Halo was just a glowing accessory they couldn't get rid of.
Meanwhile, Lucian could make his Halo vanish at will, use it like a support system to stay alert… so many exceptions that it was no wonder other Sankta treated him like the Holy Son.
Still, Lucian insisted on thinking materialistically. There had to be a logical explanation for his abilities.
He refused to believe in some God with a cuckold kink who stole a poor man's wife and produced him as a child.
But he also didn't want to end up locked in a lab as a test subject. The Sankta who worshipped him were all dangerously fanatical—he didn't want to crush their hopes either. It was a mess.
"Could Originium Arts explain it…? Probably not."
He chuckled.
Then he shoved all those thoughts aside. He had a store to open. He had soy milk to sell.
And he wanted Angelina to help out.
Whether she chose to stay in Lungmen long-term could wait. First, he needed to show her around the city.
Thinking about all that, Lucian walked toward the bathroom—
"Ah…"
Croissant, already inside, turned her head toward the opening door.
Lucian froze, stared expressionlessly at her back.
Then he immediately backed out, shut the door, smooth and decisive.
But the bread girl called after him. "Ah—wait! I need to talk to you!"
She grabbed the door, stopping him from closing it.
In this battle for dignity (mostly his), Croissant insisted:
"Lucian, Lucian—do you really want Angelina to stay here forever?"
"…You have to talk about this here?"
Lucian's frown could've squeezed water out of his forehead.
Croissant grit her teeth, pulling on the door. "You think I want to? Angelina's awake already. If we go outside she'll hear us… I'm shy too, okay? As long as you promise not to peek, I'll let you face the other way!"
"You're the one who better not flash anything at me. Why do I have to stand here listening to you—"
Before he could finish, Croissant grabbed a tissue and smacked it straight into the back of his head, cutting off his blunt complaint.
And just like that, the bizarre situation became reality.
Shifting around restlessly, she kept talking. "I heard her last night… she said her parents are still in Siracusa. She's not like us—she has a family waiting for her. Shouldn't we help her go home? Wouldn't that be better for her?"
"…Oripathy can't be cured. Unless that's resolved, she can't go back."
Good thing Lucian's back was turned—he didn't have to hide his guilty face.
Texas aside, the last thing he wanted was for Croissant to know his secret.
Not because he feared she'd spread it—he was more worried that if she learned he could achieve Complete Recovery from Oripathy, she might happily infect herself just to try it out. She absolutely would.
And of course he'd already thought about what she brought up.
Lucian could cure Oripathy completely. He'd tested it.
But the treatment took time, and required… activities far more intense than eating sugary snacks daily. It was the only way to push Originium concentration in the blood back to normal.
It wasn't that he didn't want to treat Angelina. He just had too much to consider.
Even if Angelina recovered, even if she could return to Siracusa and live normally… what about the people around her? How would they react? How would her parents react when someone who was once Infected suddenly became healthy?
He could trust Angelina. But he wasn't naïve enough to trust everyone around her.
If anyone connected the dots, they'd trace everything back to him. And his peaceful life would be over.
So he planned to take things slow. At the very least, he wanted to spend more time with Angelina. If she truly wanted treatment and desperately needed it, then he'd decide.
Croissant, unaware of any of this, muttered anxiously, "Yeah… Siracusa does discriminate against the Infected… Ah! Then how about we bring her parents here? Move 'em to Lungmen so they can live together!"
Lucian let out a long sigh. "Your brain is full of soy milk. Her parents have a good life there—they've lived in Siracusa peacefully their entire lives. And you want to drag them to the Slums in Lungmen to hide? Why do you think Angelina ran away from home alone in the first place? Learn a little from her—she's gentle for a reason."
"…I'm sorry, okay? I'm not gentle at all. Hmph!"
Croissant actually pouted—rare for her. And somehow Lucian found it a bit cute… maybe one-thousandth as cute as Angelina.
He knew she was concerned about Angelina, but these were decisions only Angelina herself could make. Talking about it was pointless.
So Lucian ignored the fact that Croissant still had more to say, opened the door, and stepped out.
"Ah—!"
And immediately he heard the startled yelp of a certain eavesdropping little fox.
Angelina, still pressed against the door, lifted her head awkwardly and gave a flustered smile.
"L-Lucian, s-sorry for interrupting… I really didn't hear anything, promise! Please keep talking, I won't bother you! I'll go now!"
Angelina… are you the door guardian now?
Lucian watched the bashful high school girl scurry back to her room. Behind him, Croissant started yelling again.
…What a chaotic way to start the day.