Gabriel gestured with both hands as if painting the scene in the air. "We know she stole your research, and we know what she put you through. That girl got on all of our nerves… even our girlfriends couldn't stand her."
A small smile appeared at the corner of Kayden's lips. "Honestly… I don't feel anything anymore. I'm a different person now… a better one. You could even say an upgraded version. That month… was actually very good for me."
Willy raised an eyebrow ever so slightly, a faint smile forming on his face.
"That's not the only thing that's changed."
His voice was calm, yet his words carried a meaning that reached far beyond the surface.
Something about Willy suddenly felt different to Kayden.
He stared at him for a few seconds, as though the man before him had somehow become… something greater.
' Does he represent purity?… He looks almost angelic.'
Kayden remained silent.
Willy continued, almost as though he'd read his thoughts. "To be honest… I don't like pretending."
He met Kayden's eyes. "Kayden… congratulations on your evolution."
Then, without another word, he rose to his feet, stepped forward, and bowed to Kayden with unusual discipline.
Kayden blinked in surprise, but instinctively returned the bow with the same solemn respect.
They remained that way in silence for a brief moment.
Seeing the atmosphere, Gabriel and Jay exchanged glances before awkwardly following suit.
Jay leaned toward Kayden and whispered,
"So… when are we supposed to sit down?"
Still bent forward, Kayden whispered back, "I have no idea… Do you think Willy fell asleep standing up?"
Gabriel stifled a laugh before finally giving up and sitting first. "Hasn't it been long enough already?"
Only then did Willy sit down. He calmly folded his hands together, as though preparing to discuss something serious.
"I know all of this… thanks to Henry."
A faint smile crossed his face.
"He never told me directly, of course. But it wasn't hard to figure out. We all come from families of Executors, and we all possess a Spiritual Essence… though not everyone knows how or why."
Kayden remained silent for a moment before slowly interlacing his fingers. "Actually… it was pure coincidence. I was… completely ignorant."
Gabriel chuckled. "Of course you were. You never asked questions… or even noticed when something strange was happening."
Jay nodded, as though recalling his own experience. "That makes sense… I didn't know anything either. Then I got caught up in a few incidents, and from there… everything changed."
Willy smiled softly and looked up at Kayden before speaking in a quiet voice, as though he were confessing something personal. "Actually… you've met my brother before."
Kayden's brows lifted in surprise. His mind immediately searched through old memories, trying to recall a face or encounter that could be connected to Willy's brother. But Willy didn't give him much time to think.
"He'll be here today… he may have already arrived."
Only a few moments passed before Willy's brother appeared.
The instant Kayden saw him, his eyes snapped toward the newcomer before quickly drifting away, as if refusing to give him the chance to read his expression.
The stranger was none other than Billy.
Billy offered a brief greeting and sat down without smiling. Then he turned toward Kayden. "So… you're Kayden Bryce? George's younger brother."
"That's right," Kayden replied lightly, as though the fact carried no particular significance.
"What are you doing here?" Billy asked, tilting his head slightly as if trying to see through him. "Have you graduated?"
Kayden smiled calmly. "I graduated a long time ago… but I came with someone else."
Kayden spoke quietly, clearly unwilling to invite further questions.
Yet that answer only deepened Billy's curiosity. He continued staring at him for several more seconds, as though trying to pull the real answer straight from his eyes.
He failed. 'George's brother… Then he's definitely strong. But… why can't I sense his spiritual essence? Is he hiding it on purpose? He can't possibly be weak… the Bryce family only produces exceptional warriors.'
Meanwhile, Kayden ignored Billy's gaze with complete indifference, as though being analyzed meant nothing to him.
Gabriel broke the silence with a sarcastic remark. "You reek of alcohol. Are you an alcoholic?"
Billy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, while Gabriel pushed his chair farther back as though the extra distance might save him from the smell.
Willy quietly did the same. "Brother… are you still keeping an eye on those people?" Willy asked, raising an eyebrow.
Billy shook his head carelessly. "I work at a tavern."
Jay looked at him curiously. "But… you're rich, aren't you? Do you have some strange hobby? Or do you just… enjoy watching women?"
Kayden muttered, "He has his own secret hobbies."
Billy remained silent for a moment before raising a hand in explanation. "I'm only disguised as a bartender… so I can report the current situation to someone else."
"So you're gathering information," Kayden observed, tilting his head slightly as he pieced things together.
Billy gave a sideways smile. "Exactly. And it pays far better than you'd imagine."
From that moment onward, Billy barely stopped talking.
Stories and amusing incidents poured out of him without pause, as though the tavern where he worked were a stage upon which endless dramas unfolded.
In a quiet corner of the university campus, Henry sat on a wooden bench before a long table that separated him from four professors.
Their expressions were stern.
Their eyes examined him as though analyzing every breath he took. His thesis rested neatly before them, every page carefully arranged.
After enduring the barrage of questions directed at him, he slowly extended his hand and passed the thesis to one of them, almost as though he were handing over a piece of his own soul for judgment.
The dean entered with confident strides.
He picked up several pages, flipped through them thoughtfully, then spoke in a measured voice. "It's… good."
Henry lifted his head for a brief moment.
But before a smile could form, the dean continued, "As you know… our standards for graduation theses are extremely strict. This is the second time you've come here and sat before us."
Henry felt as though the chair beneath him had suddenly become colder and heavier.
He simply gave a faint nod.
One of the professors studied him carefully before asking, "Does anyone in your family know… that you were required to rewrite your thesis?"
Henry lowered his gaze to the floor. "No… I didn't tell them. It's my failure, so I shouldn't drag anyone else into it."
The professors exchanged brief glances before one of them answered in a neutral, yet sympathetic tone. "I understand."
Henry continued staring at the floor, absentmindedly fidgeting with his fingers beneath the table.
The crushing weight of failure pressed against his chest until he genuinely began believing he would fail again.
He only looked up after noticing a small movement before him.
His thesis had already been stamped with the university's seal of approval.
His heart, however, was still trapped in the anxiety of the previous moment.
At first, Henry couldn't believe what he'd heard.
He stared at one of the professors with wide eyes, almost afraid it was some cruel joke.
The professor finally smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "Henry… you can relax now. There's no need to be so tense."
A broad smile spread across Henry's face far larger than his features seemed capable of holding.
Warmth rushed through his body, as though all the blood in him had surged toward his head. "Congratulations. Your graduation thesis has been accepted," Dean Stone announced, his voice carrying both professionalism and unmistakable pride.
Then he added with a faint smile, "Falling behind your class wasn't the real problem. Very few students passed this year. Only three theses were accepted before yours you were the fourth. So you have plenty of time to celebrate with your friends… but don't overdo it. No loud parties… and especially stay away from alcohol."
One of the supervisors chuckled. "Sir, they're young. Celebrating is part of being young."
Henry's reaction surprised everyone.
He sprang to his feet as though the burden of the past several months had finally vanished from his shoulders.
He began speaking freely with his professors, no longer weighed down by the nervousness that had tied his tongue for so long.
"Don't get too carried away, Henry… and remember, we'll always be here waiting for you," one of them said softly, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia.
Henry nodded with a smile. "I won't do anything stupid."
The dean, maintaining his usual composure, spoke quietly. "Sit down, Henry."
Henry obediently returned to his seat.
A cup of black coffee was placed before him, its bitter aroma reminding him of countless sleepless nights spent studying.
The dean looked at him and asked,
"How is your brother? He graduated before you. Both of you are remarkably gifted… but he disappeared so suddenly. Exactly when did Kayden Bryce graduate?"
Henry exchanged glances with one of the professors before the professor answered first.
"He completed his thesis at the end—no, the beginning—of December. He finished his examinations and defended his research unusually early. He was ahead of everyone by an alarming margin. People even said the faculty approved his research because it was exceptionally outstanding… though some of it could bring disaster. Henry understands what I mean."
But Dean Stone wanted the date, not the description.
An image surfaced in Henry's mind.
After graduating, his brother had spent a few carefree days before shutting himself away inside his room, isolating himself like a prisoner who had built his own cell.
Henry answered precisely. "December 8th… Year 819."
The dean smiled. "That's right… and you, Henry, graduated on April 11th, Year 820." Then he murmured, almost to himself, "We truly have some remarkable people here."
Henry's eyes suddenly gleamed with curiosity.
He leaned forward slightly. "Professors… do you know what mental rot is?"
Silence settled over the room.
The professors exchanged uncertain looks some curious, others cautious.
One of them raised an eyebrow. "Henry… have you already started writing your next research paper?"
Henry looked slightly flustered.
Before he could answer, however, the professors had already begun discussing the question among themselves, trying to decipher what lay behind it.
"I've never heard of it," one professor said seriously. "Is it some newly discovered illness? Something that spreads slowly?"
Another adjusted his glasses.
"I read extensively myself… and I've never encountered the term."
Every eye in the room turned toward Henry.
Dean Stone studied him carefully before asking with equal parts curiosity and scrutiny,
"How would you define mental rot? Since none of us are familiar with it… is this the subject of your new research?"
Henry felt as though the question had struck him squarely in the chest.
His expression stiffened.
His throat suddenly felt dry, to the point where he almost forgot how to speak.
'This is insane! How the hell is this happening?' The thought echoed endlessly in his mind. He tried recalling what Kayden had once said about "mental contamination," but his brother's explanation had been overly philosophical. It would never satisfy an academic committee. 'I need a clearer comparison.'
Henry slowly exhaled, regained his composure, then lifted his head with a smile that blended diplomacy and confidence.
"Mental rot… is a metaphorical description of the gradual decline in cognitive function caused by prolonged lack of intellectual stimulation. Anatomically speaking, it's comparable to muscle atrophy caused by disuse. When neurons are deprived of continuous mental challenges and new experiences, they gradually lose efficiency, and the synaptic connections between them begin to weaken."
He paused, allowing the explanation to settle into their minds before continuing calmly.
"Over time, the brain becomes less responsive to external stimuli, and its ability to process information and generate original ideas steadily declines. Psychologically, the condition is often accompanied by reduced motivation, emotional numbness, and slower mental responses. While the 'rot' isn't literal biological decay… its functional effects closely resemble a slow process of deterioration except that it occurs within the mind rather than the body."
Silence lingered for several seconds.
Then smiles spread across the professors' faces, as though they had stumbled upon a small treasure hidden within the monotony of their day.
One of them even began applauding, followed by the others.
"You're remarkable!" one professor exclaimed enthusiastically.
"You should publish this research," Dean Stone added openly, his admiration unmistakable. "It's incredibly fascinating."
Yet beneath all the praise, Henry felt as though his head were boiling from within.
His heartbeat quickened.
Something deep inside him was screaming at him to run.
The moment Henry received his graduation certificate, he found himself staring at it again and again, as though his eyes refused to leave the words printed across its surface.
His fingertips brushed lightly over the paper, almost afraid it would disappear if he held it too tightly.
The dean calmly reached over and took it back.
"You'll receive your diploma during the graduation ceremony," he said with a faint smile. "No need to rush… unless you aren't planning to attend?"
Henry answered with dry sarcasm. "I might be dead in a little while… none of us knows the future. Can I have it now?"