Arsene stood beside Professor Juaking. Since he had eaten shortly before, he didn't have much of an appetite—unlike some others who were devouring everything in sight. Strangely enough, Faradice was among them.
Arsene had approached Juaking to speak with him due to something the professor had said earlier. Arsene felt that Juaking's tone had held a trace of hostility, as if he were subtly trying to diminish him.
But in truth, Juaking had apologized for that. Arsene wasn't sure if the apology was genuine or not—naturally, he wasn't foolish enough to use his singularity on a professor and lecturer.
However, Juaking's reasoning came from his own experience as a teacher. If Arsene were to receive too much attention and his level elevated excessively, it might cause other first-year students to view him as an insurmountable wall. That, in turn, could lead them to abandon their path as Singulars and pursue something more stable—like the magic promotion route.
Thus, Juaking wanted to ensure they realized that Arsene wasn't some unreachable ideal, even with a Grade 0 singularity.
Juaking made several points during their conversation, most of which concerned the first-year students. He emphasized Arsene's responsibility toward the new Information-type Singulars—guiding them to discover the best ways of thinking and using their singularities, helping them unlock their full power and potential.
Was that a duty Arsene had to fulfill, or merely a matter of personal choice? Arsene wasn't certain—especially since singularity was innate. A person was the embodiment of their singularity, meaning they understood it better than any outsider ever could.
As Juaking walked over to the elderly Mac Lenny to give Arsene a chance to meet others, Clem approached him with three rather eccentric-looking individuals.
Arsene had heard something about this before, somewhere in the academy's halls, though it was common knowledge.
Most Information-type Singulars have some kind of mutation—that's what makes them eccentric. They're often autistic, have genetic anomalies that hinder their development, or suffer from brain irregularities.
Some harbor strange ideologies or thought patterns.
This often reflects in their outward appearance—inconsistent clothing, lack of personal hygiene, or limited ability to communicate with others.
Sometimes, even their physical features appear odd.
Among the trio with Clem was a chubby guy with eyeliner on his lashes and dark circles under his eyes—not from sleep deprivation, though.
The other two looked like beggars. Their clothes were unconventional and tattered, seemingly ripped on purpose.
Arsene greeted them politely. Clem did most of the talking, probably because the others lacked the courage or communication skills to speak to Arsene after everything that had happened.
Or maybe they were just shy, embarrassed, or unsure of themselves.
They weren't particularly striking, especially since they didn't express themselves. Arsene was the type who preferred to let others speak at length so he could assess them through their choice of words, speech patterns, body language, and gestures.
From that, he could tell whether someone was anxious, impatient, or arrogant.
Anyone who judged people the way Arsene did might assume he was indifferent.
And in many ways, he was.
Clem's facial expressions betrayed a certain impatience—likely because he felt stuck with the trio and couldn't shake them off.
He probably wanted to get rid of them or pawn them off on Arsene, but they followed him wherever he went. He couldn't tell them outright without hurting their feelings.
Especially since Singulars of this type were often very sensitive—most of them, anyway.
Arsene watched Clem dragging the three of them behind him.
That's when he felt a tug at the hem of his pants.
It was Faradice—the prodigy of the Franschyz Empire.
Arsene knew he had caught this boy's attention. The way Faradice had defended him in front of Juaking proved that. Fortunately, the interest seemed positive, not hostile.
Still, why was someone from the Franschyz Empire even here?
Wasn't the One Throne Alliance and the Empire at odds?
Was this some attempt at strengthening ties?
Wasn't it risky to let a potential enemy see your secrets and the key individuals you were nurturing?
It seemed like the One Throne Alliance was baring itself before the Empire—especially considering the Empire's infamous cunning and strategic planning across all domains. That was precisely what the Alliance lacked.
But Arsene knew it was all just a cover—meant to conceal other agendas, especially within the academy.
Faradice stared at Arsene intently. He seemed to have several questions and was preparing to approach and start a conversation, carefully choosing his words.
But… was he already using his singularity on Arsene without him realizing it—especially since he was still holding onto his pants?
"I can't read you! Weird," Faradice suddenly declared, catching Arsene's attention.
'Was he using his singularity on me?' Arsene thought.
"Oh, so that's how I was able to read you!" Faradice said calmly. "Yes, I was using my singularity."
Arsene forced a fake smile. "And why would you do that?"
"I saw how deeply you were thinking and staring off. I figured you must've had something interesting on your mind. You see, for us Singulars—especially of our type—this is a common challenge."
"In what way exactly?" Arsene replied, playing along.
"Keeping our curiosity under control. We always feel the urge to know what's going on in people's minds—their thoughts, their ideas, their fantasies… their emotions," Faradice answered in a calm voice.
"And what makes you think emotions are a mental construct, rather than something of the soul or body?" Arsene asked.
"You've got a point," Faradice replied. "But emotions are always observed by the mind. You can't love someone without conditions and thought—not unless they've done something for you."
"It's always like that: 'I love this person'—but why? Because they helped me. Because they stood by me. Because they gave me their time and made sacrifices."
"Because they bought me a loaf of bread when I was hungry."
That was Faradice's answer.
"So if that's how it works, does that mean you can figure out what kind of person someone is?" Arsene asked him.
"It depends," Faradice said. "It all comes down to the person's mental state at the time, their surroundings, and the moment they're in."
"For example, you, Arsene… I'd say you're someone who's lonely."
"Oh, maybe you're right. I won't ask about the reasons that made you think I'm a lonely person,"
Arsene replied calmly.
"And you? How do you see me, Arsene?"
"Based on several previous pieces of information, all I can deduce about you is… that you're someone who seeks acceptance and attention!"
Faradice's eyes widened slightly, but he maintained his composure.
"I'm not like you. I enjoy satisfying my curiosity, so I will ask about the reasons that made you think I'm that way!"
Arsene replied, "Because you misread me earlier, I'll punish you by not telling you. After all, I'm an evil person…
Just kidding, just kidding," he smiled and laughed.
"Well, what made me say that was your behavior a moment ago. You're a guest here—maybe you had breakfast earlier with old Yugur and the others.
And of course, those who didn't touch anything on the table did so because they were already full.
But even then, you were devouring the food along with the others.
That made me wonder—were you doing that out of sympathy for those Uniques? So they wouldn't feel isolated and left out?
Or were you doing it just to make them feel like you were one of them, so they'd accept you and notice you, despite your identity?
Of course, there's a chance you were simply eating because you have some kind of growth mutation!
When you said I was lonely, you were waiting for a reaction from me! You wanted to know how I see you!
But you weren't expecting that answer. Your question wasn't out of simple curiosity.
You were waiting for me to say: 'You look lonely too.'
Were you abandoned when you were young, Faradice?
Did you not receive enough love in your childhood, Faradice?"
Arsene stopped speaking. During the entire conversation, Faradice's eyes were full of disbelief at this unexpected shift.
He was on the verge of breaking—completely.
Others noticed it. Old Yugur stepped forward immediately.
Arsene knelt down, as if trying to offer help to Faradice—but he was whispering to him:
"Is this what you came here for, Faradice? I told you—I'm an evil person."
That face… that expression… those eyes, which seemed to steal the light of life from within—
as if emptiness itself was trying to fill a void inside him.
Faradice felt a terrible pain in his head, but he didn't scream or groan.
He just stared at Arsene.
Juaking rushed over and carried Faradice in his arms, intending to take him to the infirmary for treatment—anything that could be done quickly before he collapsed completely.
He couldn't imagine the consequences if something happened to him.
Or… was it all just a protocol, an act, in front of Faradice himself?
Arsene called out,
"Faradice! You weren't using it, were you?"
Juaking was nearly out the door when Faradice clung to his shoulder and stared at Arsene—stunned and shocked.
"H-how?!"