Chapter 221: His Dirt
"Madha, it’s your turn," Vania said curtly, not even sparing him a glance.
Once Madha left, Gara leaned forward, suddenly remembering something he wanted to ask the academy’s first-year unofficial gossip master.
"Miki, come here. Sit down," Gara said with that charming smile of his.
The rat boy eagerly took Madha’s seat— not because he was mesmerized by Gara’s looks, but because he could sense round two of juicy gossip coming.
"You seem to know a lot about the powerful humans in the capital..."
Miki puffed up proudly. "Of course I do. I know all kinds of things."
"I know that. I trust your brilliance, Miki," Gara flattered smoothly. "So... you must know something about Professor Langga, right?"
"Professor Langga?" Miki didn’t even need to think, he immediately spilled every rumor he’d heard about the man.
But everything he said... was stuff Tristan had already told Gara before.
Gara frowned. "There’s really no dirt on him? Nothing at all?"
Miki shook his head firmly.
"Come on, there’s gotta be something! You saw how he handled Vania in strategy class, right? With that kind of attitude, you’re telling me he’s never gotten into trouble?"
Miki shot Gara a look that said, "Professor Langga defended you back then, and this is how you repay him? No sense of camaraderie at all."
But Gara wasn’t done digging. "What about his father’s identity as a devil? That could be true, right?"
He wasn’t ready to give up on finding some dirt on Langga. After all, one of his main reasons for coming here was to expose who he really was.
Miki crossed his arms. "Gara, I might’ve grown up among the ratfolk, but my mother’s human. I know for sure that rumor’s wrong."
Gara rolled his eyes. Know for sure, huh? His father’s absolutely a devil. That’s why Langga’s a half-devil... and why my kids carry devil blood too.
Of course, he couldn’t say that out loud.
His thoughts began to spiral, pulling him deep into his own mind. He was so focused he barely noticed Miki anymore, which made the rat boy look for another gossip buddy to pass the time with.
One by one, the Class S students finished their counseling sessions. Once again, Gara was the last to go in— but this time, he didn’t complain or wear that hostile expression he usually had.
He stepped into the small room beside the staircase, his face calmer than before.
Inside, Langga greeted him with a gentle smile.
Since the day he’d entered the academy, Gara had seen Langga smile countless times. He looked so different from the Langga he’d met back in Falopo Town a year ago.
He wasn’t sure which one was the real him.
"Gara, I owe you my thanks," Langga began.
Gara said nothing, just walked over and took a seat in front of his desk— a sign of progress, considering that during their last sessions, he’d refused to even sit.
"This past week, several instructors praised your skill and intelligence," Langga continued, sounding genuinely proud.
Gara blinked, caught off guard.
He cleared her throat. "Is that what this counseling is about? Listening to meaningless compliments?"
"Sorry," Langga chuckled softly. "I just get too excited having such a brilliant student."
"Stop apologizing like that!" Gara snapped, irritation flaring. Part of him felt his defenses slipping— but another part screamed that this was too fake.
"He’s like a stray dog," he muttered under her breath.
The moment he realized he’d said it aloud, his eyes darted up— only to meet Langga’s sorrowful gaze.
"What do you want from me?!" he blurted, his voice rising in panic. "What do you want me to do? I’ll do it."
Langga looked startled, his blue eyes gleaming with something unreadable.
"But—" Gara cut him off quickly. "I just want special training on my own schedule."
"That’s fine," Langga agreed easily, his tone brightening. "Tell me when you’re available."
"Only at night. Monday nights."
"No problem," he said warmly. "But first, I need to understand everything your water can do."
He slid a paper across the desk, a detailed questionnaire about his Talent.
Gara filled it out carefully, line by line. He wrote down nearly everything, except for the full truth about his healing ability. He only mentioned he could heal, without specifying how powerful it was.
Once done, he handed the paper back and stood. "I’ll be going."
"See you at our special training, then," Langga said, his voice following him as she left.
The door clicked shut behind him.
Langga’s friendly expression melted away.
A quiet, unreadable smile curved his lips.
"Finally," he whispered, "I get to be alone with you again, Gara."
...
Gara made the most out of his weekend. He spent quality time with the triplets, playing with them and laughing together.
And though he hadn’t exactly wanted to, he also joined a training session with Langga— surprisingly, it turned out to be more beneficial than he expected.
He thought Langga would try something suspicious, something he could use to expose the man’s true identity.
But Langga... did nothing of the sort. He genuinely trained him.
Which somehow made Gara even more uneasy.
"It still feels like something’s missing," Gara muttered.
"What’s missing, Gara?" Madha asked, stepping carefully so he wouldn’t crush the flowers along the path.
"My time with the triplets," Gara said smoothly, though it was an obvious lie. "I wish I could’ve played with them longer."
"Me too," Madha replied with a gentle smile. "They’re getting cuter and smarter every day. It makes you miss them the moment you leave."
Gara nodded absentmindedly. But the moment the triplets came to mind, so did their father— Langga.
He quickly shook his head, trying to erase the image and hoping Madha wouldn’t notice.
Not long after, they arrived at the back field where their Offense Class was being held.
"Better be prepared. The instructor might retaliate this time," Orman warned, glancing at the two of them.
"Relax," Madha said, unfazed as always.
Just like last week, the class focused on one-on-one duels.
Gara and his group planned to stay off to the side again— keep things quiet, stay out of the spotlight.
But before they could move, a sharp voice rang out across the field, like a witch casting a spell.
"Gara! Last week, everyone saw Madha’s duel— but you, who were supposed to assist him, only interfered with tricks and foul play! For that reason, I, Vania Shereen, challenge you to a duel!"
...