Miss Wang Weina, even your cousin won't do!

"Classmates, does anyone know Bruce?"

The students who were asked looked at each other and shook their heads, making Kench even more puzzled.

If nobody knows Bruce, then who exactly is Bruce?

Should we ask the team leader?

The thought had barely crossed Kench's mind when he shook his head, shaking it off the next second, banishing the dangerous idea.

"Don't joke around," Kench thought with trepidation. "The leader of this team is none other than that great man! The leader of the Victorian General Staff, the patriarch of the Norfolk family, and a true Victorian noble with real power—Ernest Norfolk!"

Kench's birth was anything but ordinary. On the contrary, he was born into a marquess family in Wessex. Although not the eldest son, he was the most favored by his father, the Marquess of Wessex. Because he didn't want to be involved in the fratricidal struggle for family succession with his older brother, he chose to enroll in the Royal Military Academy, embarking on a new life in the military. While this background might not be the highest in the Royal Military Academy, it certainly allowed him to enter the top circles and possess his own followers, faction, and level of influence.

Even so, he had only seen the Duke a handful of times in his life. The only time he had ever caught a glimpse of the "well-connected Duke of Normandy" was when he was young, attending a banquet on the Thames outside Londinium with his father. And among dukes, there were ranks; compared to the Duke of Norfolk, the head of the three great dukes of the empire, the Duke of Normandy was at best a large camel, incomparable.

To have Kench go to Ernest to ask for directions before even starting his graduation exams because he doesn't recognize anyone on the list, thus leaving him with the impression of incompetence? Impossible, absolutely impossible.

With a long sigh, he could only weave through the line, trying to find the unfamiliar face.

But before he could even take a step, he caught an unbelievable glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye.

Just then, Ernest's heavily armed car, parked not far from the academy's main gate and guarded by heavily armed soldiers, suddenly opened its door. A blond boy who looked about the same age as Kench, or even a little younger, poked his head out, looked around, and after confirming that no one was around, calmly got out of the car.

Bandits?

Kench subconsciously entertained this thought, but immediately dismissed it. If there really were a master thief so audacious as to climb into the Marshal's vehicle right under the noses of the General Staff's guards and steal from him, then Victoria might not be far from its demise!

But who is he? So young, yet he got out of that car?

A guess flashed through Kench's mind—could it be a relative of the marshal, or an illegitimate child?

No, no, no, that's impossible. The Marshal is a Vayvan, but that boy clearly doesn't have any Vayvan features; he looks more like Felin, or...

Kench's pupils dilated suddenly, his mouth opened wide, and his chin almost dragged on the ground. He saw something even more unbelievable!

After the blond boy got out of the car, the person who stepped out of the driver's seat was none other than Marshal Ernest himself!

Marshal Ernest personally drove the boy here!

A flash of inspiration struck Kench, and he threw all the foolish speculations in his mind to the back of his mind. He carefully looked at the handsome, sunny face and distinctive fluffy blond hair of the boy not far away, and superimposed him on the figure in the central illustration of the lesson "Victorian Modern History - The Wars of the Roses" in his textbook.

"Athrun!"

........

Wayne waved his hand, refusing Ernest's offer to help him out of the car. He wasn't some old man who was hundreds of years old; why would he need someone to help him get out of the car?

After glancing around and confirming that no one was around, Wayne waved his hand, signaling Ernest that he could leave.

Ernest bowed respectfully, straightened up, and asked hesitantly:

"Are you sure you don't need me to personally escort you to Toronto?"

"I'm going to take an exam, not to patrol and inspect. If you personally take me there, do you think this assessment will still be meaningful?"

Wayne clicked his tongue.

"What I want to see is the excellent character and outstanding abilities of the students at the Royal Military Academy. The most important thing is authenticity. I don't want to reveal my identity because I don't want to see them put on a show in front of me and then slack off when I'm not around."

"No, the assessment is still very strict..."

Before Ernest could finish speaking, Wayne chuckled and asked:

"So now I demand that you give me a perfect score, do you agree or not?"

Ernest's face turned pale. He opened his mouth, hesitated for a long time, and finally replied, "...It's hard to disagree."

"That's right. Even you know that as long as you please me you can get a high score, who would be willing to risk their lives to eradicate infected creatures in actual combat? They'd all just revolve around me, wouldn't that solve the problem?"

Ernest lowered his head and apologized, "You are right."

Wayne nodded, waved his hand, and urged again, "Let's go, get on with your business."

Having said that, he turned and walked back to the ranks. Behind him, Ernest hesitated for a moment, then called his adjutant and gave him instructions:

"Dispatch two more...no, three more guards for His Highness, at the highest alert level, to ensure His Highness's safety."

........

Bypassing the neatly arranged student lines, Wayne glanced around and quickly spotted Kench standing in the crowd, his back to him, holding a list. A kind smile spread across Wayne's face as he jogged over, introducing himself and apologizing:

"Hello, classmate, this is Bruce, Bruce Wayne. Sorry, I ran into a friend on the way and was a little delayed. Are you alright?"

Upon hearing Wayne's voice, Kench trembled.

You ran into a friend on the street? My goodness, which friend are you talking about? Is it Ernest Norfolk?

Is that marshal really your friend? I doubt it. I think he's more like your driver, a member of the Aslan royal family.

Kench turned around, his stomach churning, and managed a forced smile, nodding as he said:

"No...no...I wasn't late."

Wayne frowned.

What's going on? Do I look scary?

Wayne thought he was quite handsome. Could it be that students at the Royal Military Academy didn't like talking to outsiders?

That won't do, that's a bad habit, it needs to be changed!

Wayne reached out his hand to Kench:

"That's good. I'm so sorry I'm late. Thank you for your help."

Kench looked at Wayne's outstretched left hand, seemingly wanting to shake his, and his mind went blank for a moment.

He subtly twitched his ears. In that instant, thanks to his heightened focus and the exceptional hearing of the Felin race, he heard the sound of crossbows being cocked coming from four directions. The target was clear: him.

Does this mean I'm not allowed to hold it?

Kench cautiously took a step back, but then heard the sound of more crossbow bolts being nocked.

Why are you still glancing at me? I didn't mean anything by it. Or is this a sign that you want me to hold your hand?

He reached out his hand, and then tentatively reached out towards Wayne's hand.

However, the next second, with a click, accompanied by a sound that made his hair stand on end, he heard the sound of a gun being chambered.

Kench's outstretched hand froze in mid-air, his smile strained beyond belief. He could only look at Wayne with pleading eyes, as if to say:

Your Majesty, although I don't know what your plans are, please don't do this, please don't do this.

I'm quite scared.

Chapter Twenty-Four: Now that things have come to this, it's absolutely impossible to say it.

"Bruce...Bruce...Bruce, your carriage is in this one."

Kench, suppressing his nervousness and panic, led Wayne to the front of the convoy and pointed to the heavily armed camouflage personnel carriers in front of them, saying,

"Your...your...seat...is the first one on the left."

Wayne frowned in confusion.

He initially thought that the students of the Royal Military Academy were shy and that's why they spoke with that accent, but along the way, countless people greeted him and Kench, and none of them looked like Kench.

In other words, the class monitor in front of us probably really is a stutterer.

A hint of admiration appeared in Wayne's eyes. He was a talented person to be able to overcome his stuttering weakness and become the class monitor of the graduating class of the Royal Military Academy.

This is worth keeping a close eye on.

Thinking it over, he nodded, thanked them, and got into the driveway.

"Thank you for your help, Kench."

"No, no, no, it's no trouble at all."

Kench wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, his ears twitching slightly. Only after confirming that there were no terrifying sounds of guns being cocked or chilling reflections from scopes nearby did he finally breathe a sigh of relief, bow to Wayne, and turn and run away into the distance without looking back.

Wayne tilted his head in confusion, thinking to himself, "Why does this class monitor look so afraid of me? Do I look that scary?"

However, before he could figure it out, a familiar voice came from behind him.

"Bruce? What are you doing here?"

hiss--

Its distinctive, resonant tone, as if always brimming with inexhaustible vitality, seems to infuse one with spiritual strength simply by listening to it.

She possesses a specialized ability called "scolding," which, despite being an insult, is actually a dragon's roar—a skill similar to that of the Moon Dragon Girl from the other world. Without a doubt, even if someone is standing with their back to her, or even through a wall, Wayne can recognize whose voice it is.

"List!"

Wayne turned around somewhat awkwardly, looked at Chen, who couldn't help but stand up from his seat and walk towards him, and raised his hand to greet him.

"What a coincidence! It's been a long time."

"Bruce, what are you doing here?"

Chen's eyes gleamed brightly as he pressed down on Wayne's shoulder, looking him over carefully, as if examining a treasure collector. Only after confirming that Wayne had no external wounds did he breathe a sigh of relief and ask:

Are you here to take the assessment too?

Before Wayne could answer, Chen smiled with relief, pulled Wayne into a tight embrace, and said with emotion:

"So you've actually read the materials and class notes I sent you."

Wayne's lips twitched, unsure what to do with his hands, so he cautiously patted Chen on the back and nodded.

"I've seen them all."

He wasn't lying; he had indeed reviewed the notes and study materials. Chen's handwriting, like her personality, was both delicate and strong. The notes she sent were clearly meticulously organized; not only was the handwriting neat, but all the key points were also clearly presented, with Chen's own annotations alongside. Most importantly...

"The cartoon characters are so cute. I never expected Chen to have this kind of talent."

Chen's body stiffened slightly, seemingly surprised that Wayne would suddenly bring this up. Startled, he blushed and pushed Wayne away, hurriedly explaining:

"Because I've recently been reading a few martial arts comics, so..."

Her voice faltered, then she took two deep breaths, suppressing the shyness in her heart, and said:

"Because you never replied to me, I was very worried about you, but now I can confirm that you did look at the notes and were studying diligently!"

She looked at Wayne with admiration: