Chapter 157: First Meeting of the ill-fated Club.

With the summer break officially kicking off, I spent my first few days holed up in the reinforced basement of the new Ashborne mansion. I was collaborating with Merle to manufacture elemental Magic Bullets and refine my newly acquired [Sixth Sense]. When I wasn’t doing that, I was helping Lily and Irina manage the newly relocated and heavily upgraded

Kitchen 21

.

The break was a great opportunity to move freely outside the Academy, gather resources, and prepare for the mid-game disasters.

But on the fifth day, reality caught up with me. I had to attend the very first meeting of the ill-fated Gourmet Exploration Club.

The magical communication slate in my pocket had been buzzing non-stop since the night before.

[Prof. Amy]: Hey everyone! Let’s meet up for our first official club activity! Is tomorrow at 11 AM okay for everyone? (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

[Bordon]: Oh! Sounds great! Where’s the meat?!

[Kael]: Yes, I am available. I look forward to our cooperative mission, President Lucien.

[Elisha]: 11 AM is fine. Don’t be late, Ashborne. I’m not waiting in the sun for you.

[Clara]: Yay! See you then! I found a café that serves triple-layered chocolate cake! Let’s go there, Lucien!

[Ariana]: I have already arranged a private carriage for Lucien and myself. The rest of you can walk.

[Princess Celestia]: My, my. How territorial. I shall bring a Royal Escort just in case we encounter any of Cadet Lucien’s ’unforeseen’ incidents.

[Mariella]: Yes! I’m good! I’ll pack antidotes, bandages, and burn salves just in case!

[Prof. Amy]: Lucien, you’re good too, right?

I stared at the glowing text on the slate.

I wished this day would never come.

"Hah..."

In the end, I couldn’t even bring myself to reply to Amy’s message. I just left the entire VIP list of the Empire on ’read’. But time marched on mercilessly, bringing me to today.

*****

[The Capital - Central Plaza Park]

Assistant Professor Amy was already at the meeting spot in the park.

Sitting on a wrought-iron bench under the shade of a massive oak tree, she waved enthusiastically the moment she saw me approaching, her hands high above her head. She was wearing a light, floral summer dress instead of her usual faculty robes, making her look more like a senior student than a professor.

"Hello, Cadet Lucien!"

"Hello, Professor Amy."

"I’m a student teacher!" she corrected with a bright smile, adjusting her round glasses.

Assistant Professor Amy. Looking at her—someone who seemed as delicate as a baby chick—it was hard to believe she was the faculty advisor for a club containing two Ducal Heirs, a Marquis’s daughter, the continent’s future greatest Alchemist, the future Sword Saint, and an Imperial Princess.

Yet, ironically, she was the most ’teacher-like’ person I had met at this corrupt Academy.

As I sat down on the bench a bit of a distance away, Amy immediately scooted closer and playfully poked my side.

"Heh... surprising, Cadet Lucien."

"What do you mean?"

"I thought you might not show up. Or that you might vault over the park gates and run away."

"Ah..."

I felt a sharp twinge of guilt for not replying to the group chat. That hadn’t been my intention; I was just genuinely dreading the headache this group was going to cause me.

"It’s fine!" Amy beamed, sensing my hesitation. "You’re here, and that’s what matters! A President has to lead his club, after all."

"Well... thank you."

I was grateful she didn’t press for a reason or scold me for ignoring her messages.

A comfortable silence followed, filled only by the chirping of cicadas and the rustling of the oak leaves above us.

Feeling her gaze, I turned to look at Teacher Amy. She was staring at me. Her pink eyes held a warm, gentle glow—cozy like a spring breeze. There was none of the oppressive, judging heat of the summer sunlight in her gaze.

"...Cadet Lucien," she started softly. "You don’t like Kael’s group very much, do you?"

Thanks to her measured pause, I wasn’t startled. It felt like the inevitable question had finally arrived. I figured a true, empathetic educator like Amy would have seen through my polite facade long ago.

"It doesn’t seem like Kael’s group dislikes you that much, though," she added, tilting her head. "In fact, they seem quite determined to be around you."

"Am I the bad guy for wanting to avoid them?" I asked, looking out at the fountain in the center of the plaza.

"No." Amy shook her head firmly. "It’s okay to dislike someone. You don’t have to force yourself to be friends with everyone just because they are talented or famous."

That answer was truly unexpected. To me, Amy was like a warm spring, embracing all creatures. I thought she would give me a lecture on teamwork and harmony.

"I don’t necessarily

hate

them," I sighed, leaning back against the bench. "But there’s a heavy burden that comes with being around them. I prefer to keep my distance."

"I understand that completely," Amy nodded sagely. "I don’t dislike her either, but there’s someone at the Academy who feels incredibly burdensome to me, too."

"Who?" I asked, genuinely curious. I couldn’t imagine anyone having beef with Amy.

"Instructor Samantha."

I blinked. I didn’t see that coming.

Amy puffed out her cheeks, looking remarkably like an angry chick.

"Ever since the incident in the Fern Kingdom and the slums, she keeps asking if I’m okay, if I have any psychological aftereffects, or if I need an escort! When I’m working in the staff room, she passes by and always says,

’That’s not how you file that, Amy,’

or

’Straighten your posture, Amy.’

"

She crossed her arms, her glasses slipping down slightly.

"Even becoming this club’s advisor! She saw the application you submitted and immediately said she’d write a glowing recommendation for me to take the position. She practically pushed me into it! I mean, I would’ve applied anyway since it’s your club and I want to help you, but still! She didn’t have to hijack my schedule!"

Somehow, I ended up sitting in a park, listening to a sweet assistant professor complain about her overbearing boss.

"Doesn’t Instructor Samantha make those kinds of suggestions to you, Cadet Lucien?" Amy asked, looking at me for validation. "Like telling you to take special classes after school, or criticizing your stance during practicals?"

"Well... she does constantly tell me my mana cultivation technique is ’unorthodox’ during evaluations," I admitted.

"Right?!" Amy threw her hands up. "Instructor Samantha is young, capable, and a legendary Platinum Knight, but she acts like such an overbearing drill sergeant!"

Here is the improvised Chapter, adapted to your novel’s tone, characters, and continuity.

"A drill sergeant?"

"Yes!" Amy threw her hands up in exasperation, her round glasses slipping down her nose. "She gives way too much unsolicited advice! Ugh, she’s not a bad person, and I know she means well! I’m grateful for her protection, but... ugh!"

Amy continued to vent with firm conviction, completely shattering my image of the perfect, poised Academy faculty. Listening to her complain so openly made the knot of anxiety in my chest loosen just a little bit.

Maybe this club wouldn’t be a complete disaster if Amy was the one steering the ship.

We fell into a comfortable, lighthearted conversation. Amy told me about the administrative nightmares of organizing club budgets, and I shared a few heavily censored anecdotes about my daily life. For a few minutes, I wasn’t crafting lies. We were just two exhausted people enjoying the shade.

Then, Amy tilted her head, her pink eyes studying my face.

"By the way, Cadet Lucien... why do you hate Kael and his friends anyway?"

I froze. The lighthearted atmosphere vanished in an instant.

Seeing my expression harden, Amy frantically waved her hands, her face flushing with panic.

"O-Oh! Never mind that! I shouldn’t pry into student affairs! I just asked casually, don’t give it any thought! Let’s talk about the cafe menu—"

"...The truth is," I interrupted softly, surprising both her and myself. "Kael’s group hasn’t done anything wrong."

Amy stopped waving her hands. She blinked, waiting patiently.

"I just... dislike them one-sidedly."

I looked down at my hands. Some people pathologically hate sharing their secrets. Misanthropes. Cynics who view the world darkly. I was absolutely one of those people. Even if someone listens kindly now, they might stab you in the back later.

Could this story become a weakness someday?

I always thought like that.

But sometimes, very rarely, you want to let go of the burdens you can barely carry with both hands and just lean on someone.

"You probably know, Assistant Professor, about the things I supposedly did early in the semester."

The bullying. The arrogance. The title of ’Trash’.

The wrongs the original Lucien committed... they weren’t my sins, but I wore his face, and I bore his karma.

"I admit the wrongs," I continued, my voice tight. "I deserved to be called Trash. But I think I’ve settled things to some extent. I paid my dues. Yet, even recently, Kael’s group offered a handshake. They want to get along. Five times now, I think."

How vile, Lucien. How despicable.

I mocked myself internally.

Hiding your ugliest truths—that you know the future, that they are the protagonists, that their very presence attracts death—while pretending to open up in earnest.