I'm a proper student; I only take nine kinds of potions every day.

After testing the copper-forming ability, there were no further developments.

He went to a restaurant and had a lavish dinner that cost at least fifty cents.

Two large portions of grilled steak with mashed potatoes, three pounds of freshly baked whole wheat bread, and a cup of warm cream soup.

After eating, he slept soundly until midnight.

Then came the night shift, so boring that he almost wanted to go to the corridor to count the brick seams, and he endured it all until seven in the morning.

After his shift ended, he returned to his room, ate another hearty breakfast, and took another nap.

Ivan's powerful mind and body allowed him to recover several times faster than the average person.

By 11 a.m., he had fully recovered and got out of bed to wash and change his clothes.

As arranged by Karp, he went downstairs at 11:30 sharp and followed the convoy to the Aletheia University stadium.

This was the first time he had used a high-end luxury item of the time: a custom-made Ford car for his bodyguards.

Evan's honest assessment was that it was far inferior to his own secondhand Wuling Hongguang (during his entrepreneurial days).

The seats are made of hard leather with no cushioning whatsoever.

Every time the wheels rolled over the seams in the cobblestone road, the entire vehicle would vibrate violently, starting from the chassis.

The engine roared so loudly that people in the front and back seats had to raise their voices to have a normal conversation.

"How is it?"

Jack, the blond bodyguard sitting next to him, crossed his legs and spoke with a boastful tone.

"It's much more comfortable than a horse-drawn carriage, isn't it?"

Ivan nodded with a smile.

Then he immediately turned his face to the window, pretending to be curious as if he was seeing this view for the first time.

He was afraid that if he said another word to Jack, he would uncontrollably break into a grin.

I only had my brake pads removed, so I don't care about all the formalities.

But that doesn't mean your emotional intelligence is zero.

The book is titled "Emotional Intelligence," "Position," and "Prestige."

He does know a little bit about it.

……

The rest of the trip was boring and uneventful.

Evan doesn't understand rugby.

For several hours throughout the match, he was completely oblivious to what was happening on the field.

All he knew was that the game ended in a 0-0 draw.

Fans from both sides erupted in applause and cheers.

The players walked around the field hand in hand.

Neither side won.

That means both sides won.

Win-win.

His process of protecting Erdin was completely devoid of the thrilling intrigue and provocations depicted in the novel.

Miss Erdin and her entourage used the VIP entrance from the very beginning.

Private viewing boxes. Private tea break area. Private lounge.

Ivan was still only responsible for guarding the door.

Throughout the several hours of the match, he only caught a glimpse of Erdin twice during the two box-room seating changes.

They didn't exchange a single word.

The game ended at 4 PM.

After the event, he followed the convoy back to the hotel.

Yes, that's how the life of the school beauty's personal bodyguard came to an end.

Miss Erting only spent ten minutes touching up her makeup before quickly changing into another dress and rushing to the afternoon tea party at the Aletheia University Alumni Club.

The whole day went by.

Don't bring up the smugness of the underdog overthrowing the superior.

The busy aristocratic students didn't even have the time to glance at Ivan.

"Why."

Ivan stood in front of the large window at the end of the fifth-floor corridor, facing the central green space, and sighed.

"Why isn't anyone causing trouble?"

"If someone causes trouble, I can get Kapudo to give me some more money."

Yesterday, I beat up a group of guys who tried to break into Hearst's carriage on the train, turning my daily wage of three dollars into four dollars.

Nothing has happened so far today.

I can only receive a fixed salary of three dollars now.

With a moment to himself, Evan took out his pocket watch from his suit's inner pocket and glanced at the time.

4:40.

He had nearly three hours of free time before he was due to return for his night shift at 7:30.

After thinking about it, he decided to go to the Armitage Museum to continue to seek out the old doctor to supplement his basic knowledge of occultism.

Wearing a felt hat that covered his hair, he walked through the lobby toward the revolving door when he suddenly caught sight of a familiar figure out of the corner of his eye.

The person was sitting on a deep red velvet bench in the corner of the lobby.

Head down. Shoulders slumped. He slumped against the chair back as if his spine had been removed.

Ivan stopped in his tracks.

Albert Truss.

The older brother who used to run around Guding Street with Evan when he was a child.

But Albert, sitting on the bench now, is a completely different person from the young man who carried a banner and jogged alongside Dennis at Bolton South Station yesterday.

His face was pale, his eyes were unfocused, and his breathing was weak.

Her lips were pressed into a straight line, and she exuded a weariness and weakness that seemed to seep from her very bones.

It felt like after taking off nine times in one night, we ran another five kilometers.

Ivan narrowed his eyes and thought for a moment.

"It doesn't seem like a coincidence..."

Then he made a decision.

He knew that Albert was a fringe member of the Brotherhood of Phoenix.

The guy who was bossing Albert around at the station yesterday was the same Dennis who was later tricked by him on the train.

Whether Albert was sent to approach him or was truly at his breaking point, it doesn't matter.

This is a good opportunity.

Evan was fed up with the rhythm of "waiting for the opponent to make a move and then passively counterattacking".

He needs to take the initiative.

But I want to take the initiative.

He had to find a reasonable reason that wouldn't make him seem like he was "acting without cause."

When the county magistrate goes out of town to suppress bandits, he has to come up with a clever pretext.

Albert is that title.

If Albert is innocent, then he is Ivan's reason for causing trouble.

If Albert was sent as bait, then he is Ivan's reason to retaliate.

Just like today's ball game: a win-win situation.

This time, however, I won twice.

With this in mind, Evan turned around and walked toward the deep red velvet bench.

He stopped two steps away from Albert, giving him a relaxed smile.

"Albert".

He spoke in a lighthearted tone, as if he were meeting an old friend by chance.

"What's wrong with you?"

Albert numbly raised his cloudy eyes.

His gaze lingered on Ivan's face for a second.

The next moment, as if he had finally seen who the other person was, he suddenly jumped up from the bench.

He grabbed Evan's wrist, his fingertips trembling uncontrollably.

"Ludwig!"

Albert's voice trembled with a hint of near collapse.

"I can't take it anymore."

His eyes turned completely red in that instant.

"Those guys! They don't treat me like a human being at all."

"I was their dog for two years."

He squeezed out each word through gritted teeth.

"Two whole years!!!"

At that moment, his eyes held the anger, resentment, humiliation, and the repression of being mocked and enslaved that had been suppressed for two years...

They told everything.

Listening to Albert's intermittent sobs, Ivan sighed.

"Indeed. They've never treated us like human beings."

His tone was very even, as if he were simply agreeing with an old friend.

Albert sobbed a few times and took a deep breath.

"Could you walk with me for a bit?"

He raised his red and swollen eyes.

"For the sake of the times I stood up for you when we were kids."

Evan smiled brightly: "Of course, dear Albert."

Things are getting interesting.

The two walked side by side through the hotel's brass revolving door, and the moment they stepped out of the doorway, a night breeze carrying the smell of burning coal rushed towards them.

The streetlights on both sides of the street lit up one after another, casting a soft orange glow on the damp cobblestone pavement.

The two had no destination and wandered aimlessly along the street.

As Albert walked, he recounted his experiences over the past two years in fits and starts.

The cost of drinks for entertaining guests. The cost of clothing for various events. The gifts for tea parties every few days.

Every time I followed behind my older brother and was treated like a gofer, I felt a deep sense of loss.

Every time I wanted to say "I want to join too," I was met with a smile and a pat on the shoulder, which was incredibly embarrassing.

As Evan listened, he subtly lowered the brim of his felt hat.

He deliberately slowed down by half a step, following behind Albert, and quietly activated his Demon Hunter Vision.

Golden vertical pupils swept across Albert's entire body under the orange gaslight.

There was no extraordinary aura.

There was no pink mist on his body, nor any remote attachment from an apprentice-level cultivator.

Albert was not directly controlled by Alcott.

but.

Ivan's nostrils twitched slightly.

Albert has a rich scent.

It has more than just the smells commonly found in men, such as tobacco, sweat, and shoe polish.

Instead, it's a blend of several subtle, overlapping women's perfume scents.

Ivan calmly withdrew his demon-hunting vision and, like a snake, stuck out his tongue and licked the air.

The sense of taste, amplified by the negative effects of the Demon Hunter trait, immediately and precisely separated the few lingering scents in the air that had almost been blown away by the night breeze.

"At least three perfumes."

He counted silently in his mind.

"One is a sweet rose scent, another is dried lavender, and the third has jasmine notes."

"...Three women, and three rich girls."

Evan turned his head and glanced at Albert, who was walking beside him, his steps unsteady and his face as pale as if he had been drained of blood.

His mouth parted into a grin, revealing his gleaming white teeth.

"In ancient times, those who died for their cause received a 'farewell meal,' but you just finished a 'farewell gift'!"