Mary's silver-white hair drifted in the sunlight, and with her graceful steps she disappeared into the shadowed corridor.
Russell watched her go, genuinely baffled.
Even setting aside the "being left out" issue, he wasn't particularly interested in the party itself.
This "icebreaker" wasn't like the university icebreakers from his previous life. It reeked of calculation.
That was the real reason he didn't want to attend.
He had no interest in playing at "warm campus family" at Imperial College.
Sure—showing up would probably net him a tidy sum of malice points.
But honestly, those points weren't mandatory. He had other ways to earn them without making himself nauseous.
In short, six words:
Possible, but unnecessary.
"Whatever. Not worth thinking about."
Russell shook his head, slid the book back onto the shelf, and left the library.
Better to think about the gentleman thief Moriarty's next target.
Repeat the old trick and hit the Morstan estate again?
Absolutely not. That woman was unnerving—and what if she was the kind of person who "awakens" after getting punched twice?
The same move never works a third time.
Then… Lestrade?
No. Let the man live. He looked busy enough lately.
So he'd have to find a new victim.
But who?
As Russell was thinking, a small group approached from the opposite direction.
"Please wait a moment, Mr. Watson."
A blond man at the front called out as Russell was about to pass them.
Russell slowed, turning toward him.
Who was this again?
And why did he smile like a man trying to sell fake insurance?
"Sorry," Russell said carefully. "Do I know you?"
The man's smile stiffened.
"You're joking, right?" The irritation slipped through. "We're in the same class."
"It's the second day of term," Russell replied evenly. "I don't believe I'm obligated to recognize every face in the room."
[Timmy Roy is offended by your words. Malice +10]
Timmy Roy?
Ah. The same one who'd "contributed" first yesterday.
"My name is Timmy Roy," Timmy inhaled slowly, forcing down his anger. "My father is a Cabinet Minister."
"And…?" Russell tilted his head.
If you'd said your father was a cabinet, I might've been impressed—wondering what kind of bloodline could compete with the Black Dragon.
But a Cabinet Minister?
Why are you posturing like you own the Empire?
Charlotte's brother practically was the government.
Timmy's mouth twitched.
He'd intended to scare Russell with the title, but the provincial idiot clearly didn't even understand what he'd just heard.
Seems I overestimated him, Timmy thought.
And why, exactly, was Miss Morstan spending time with this man?
[Timmy Roy looks down on you from the bottom of his heart. Malice +10]
"Hmph."
Timmy gave up on conversation and pulled out an exquisitely packaged invitation from his pocket.
"Take this," he said, tone returning to practiced propriety.
"This is…" Russell accepted it, inspecting the envelope.
"An invitation to the icebreaker party on Saturday night," Timmy explained—then kept going before Russell could respond.
"Don't misunderstand. It's not for you. I heard you're Miss Holmes's neighbor. I want you to deliver it to her."
He smiled faintly.
"After all, she's part of our class. I wouldn't want her to be left out."
Russell weighed the invitation in his hand, wearing the correct amount of puzzled politeness.
"Oh? But as I understand it, Miss Holmes isn't exactly interested in social gatherings."
"That's not the point."
Timmy's smile turned strained; he fought to maintain the façade of gentlemanly patience, while envy and contempt simmered behind his eyes.
"As a freshman at Imperial College, experiencing campus life is her obligation."
"And this party includes many promising young men and women from London's upper circles."
"Mr. Mycroft Holmes surely wouldn't want his sister to fall out of the social sphere."
"I see," Russell said, nodding as if convinced, and tucked the invitation away.
Seeing Russell cooperate, Timmy's smile became a touch more genuine.
"Then I'll leave it to you. I trust you'll be happy to assist with something so small."
"I'll do my best," Russell replied vaguely, then turned to leave.
Timmy called after him again.
"Mr. Watson."
His tone shifted—subtle, elevated, and unmistakably suggestive.
"The party isn't mandatory. If you're busy, we'll understand."
Translation:
Be smart. Find yourself "something to do." Don't come looking for trouble.
"Of course," Russell nodded, smiling as if he'd missed the implication entirely. "I'll pass that message along to Miss Holmes as well."
And with that, he walked away without looking back.
Timmy Roy stood where he was, watching Russell's retreating figure.
The polite smile finally collapsed, replaced by something darker.
"An ignorant little bumpkin."
[Timmy Roy is angered by your refusal to take the hint. Malice +10]
·
·
By afternoon, sunlight spilled through the windows onto the back row of the tiered lecture hall.
Russell sat near the rear door, yawning with boredom.
At that moment he would've killed for a phone and a round of Teamfight Tactics.
Unfortunately, no such luck.
As class time approached, the empty hall filled with students.
Most entered through the front.
But some came through the back—only to drift toward the front seats while conspicuously glancing at Russell.
As if their entire purpose was to look at him.
Their eyes were full of pity, sympathy… and a sharp edge of schadenfreude.
Like there was some secret everyone knew—except him.
Russell found it mildly disappointing.
If that kind of gaze generated malice points, he could retire immediately.
Just lie in a corner for life and let people gossip until old age.
A few students with a remaining shred of conscience tried to speak to him—but under the pressure of the room's collective attention, they retreated again.
Russell reached toward the rear door, about to close it—
When a slender figure appeared and blocked the entrance.
Sunlight framed her from behind, turning her long silver hair into a haloed outline.
Mary Morstan.
Arms full of books.
A smile so perfect it looked professionally manufactured.
"Mr. Watson," she said lightly, "are you planning to shut me out?"
-------
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