Chương 98: An Administrative Standoff Under the Capital's Night Sky

The sitting room of the Ancient Language Club villa at nine in the evening sat under a strangely suffocating tension. At the round ebony table in the middle of the room, Lucian sat curled up in an armchair, both hands clamped around a porcelain plate of three slices of cold cuts and a garlic-butter roll, his dark eyes scanning the room in a state of heightened alert. Four incompatible agendas surrounded the table.

To his left, Princess Eleanor, wrapped in a white lace shawl, arms crossed, blue eyes narrowed in calculation. To his right, Sylvia, in her dark blue silk dress, holding her leather notebook and Vance Commerce's legal seal. Across from him, Astra, in her floral apron, silver spoon poised over a bowl of strawberry ice cream. And at the last corner of the table, Evelyn sat with her legs crossed, one hand holding a cup of black coffee, the other balancing an arcane wrench across her lap.

Eleanor set her teacup down on its saucer with a sharp clink, looking straight at Lucian.

"I'm here tonight to continue discussing this afternoon's personal-guarantee agreement. The court may someday need a formal understanding about a future partnership, when we are older." Astra, mid-bite on her ice cream, paused and looked up.

"If the dinner budget includes a lifetime strawberry-ice-cream clause, please copy that into my employment contract." Sylvia immediately pulled out her quill, flipping to page twelve of her notebook, her voice even.

"My apologies, Princess. Per Article 4 of the Employment Contract, I have no authority over Lucian's private choices. I am here only to flag legal and image-licensing implications for any future public agreement." Evelyn took a sip of coffee, pushed her silver glasses up her nose, and smirked at Lucian.

"Hey, finance guy, if any future royal partnership gets my steam-engine production line on Floor 1 a permanent research-tax exemption, put the clause in writing." Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. BOOM! Lucian slammed his garlic-butter roll down onto the plate, clutching his head with both hands, shouting in absolute despair.

"CAN A GUY EAT DINNER AROUND HERE OR NOT?!" He panted, looking at the four faces staring back at him. A chill ran down his spine. Lucian suddenly realized this scene — four colleagues bringing four incompatible agendas to one dinner table — resembled chapter sixty of a cheap manuscript he had written as a child to grind his Old Elvish vocabulary quota. Back then, he had written it purely to hit his word count, cramming in a dozen ridiculous argument scenes. Lucian lightly slapped his own cheek, muttering in dread.

"Karma... this is karma for writing garbage fiction..." Ting! Ting! A dim black Unified System v2. 0 notification burst into view before him. [SYSTEM WARNING: CATASTROPHE-LEVEL EMOTIONAL CHAOS DETECTED!] Host survival probability if this conversation continues: 0. 000001%! Optimal survival solution proposed by the System: PRETEND TO FAINT, IMMEDIATELY! Lucian didn't hesitate for even a tenth of a second. Thud.

His eyes slammed shut, his whole body going limp, collapsing backward onto the velvet sofa, letting out a slow, steady breathing pattern, exactly like someone who'd just passed out from complete exhaustion after a grueling day of labor. The sitting room fell instantly silent. Astra hurriedly set down her ice cream spoon and rushed over, gently shaking his shoulder.

"Lucian? Are you asleep?" Sylvia quickly raised a finger to her lips.

"Quiet. He's been commanding a field campaign, rescuing thirty students, dealing with the Inquisitorial Court, and the Summit... he's completely exhausted." Eleanor looked at Lucian's small, motionless face on the sofa, his dark eyes shut, visibly worn out. She let out a soft sigh, stood up, and draped a soft wool blanket over him, carefully tucking the edge up to his chin. Evelyn set her coffee cup down, pulled her chair closer to the other three, and lowered her voice.

"Alright, let the capitalist sleep. Let's keep discussing the division of the Floor 1 production line." The four girls sat around the tea table, sipping quietly, murmuring through logistics plans, iron-ore materials, and security network arrangements in perfect harmony. Beneath the warm wool blanket, Lucian let out a long, silent sigh of relief. Playing dead... truly the greatest survival skill in the history of mankind.

Evelyn reached into her coat pocket and pulled out the black titanium-alloy key, setting it on the table. A strip of arcane microcircuitry along the key's shaft suddenly flashed a green glow, blinking at an emergency-alert frequency.

"Hey... a signal from Floor 2 of the World Tower just automatically unlocked." WHOOP... WHOOP... WHOOP! The next morning. The magical alarm system at Solaris Academy suddenly blared out an ear-splitting series of sirens, shaking the entire capital. The Head Supervisor's voice echoed through every dormitory.

"EMERGENCY WARNING! Anomalous spatial fluctuation detected in the Forbidden Forest! The World Tower has just flashed a national-level intrusion alert!"