CHAPTER 44: DISCIPLE CULTIVATION SYSTEM CH44 JEALOUSY PT1.

"Val... Val, check this out."

The cheerful shouting of a hazy figure gathered her attention.

"What is that?" she couldn’t help but ask, her mind filled with curiosity as she watched the transparent energy engulf the hazy figure.

"It’s aura."The figure jumped in joy, his aura flickering on and off like the bulb of a faulty street lamp.

"Aura?" She blinked.

Was that truly aura?

She was confused. Her mother also used aura, but hers was gold, while her father’s was red. Yet her friend’s was completely colorless. It looked incomplete, as if it was lacking something.

"I’m not kidding, Val. It’s aura." Her friend tried to convince her.

"But why is it colorless?" she inquired, her thumb on her chin.

"...Well, it lacks intent."

Her friend sighed, responding a bit disappointed by her mild reaction.

"So Mama and Papa have intent?"

"Yep. And pretty strong ones at that."

"Really? Does that mean you’re weak?"

"I mean, I’m ten, just learned aura—scratch that, I’m weak. But don’t be fooled; I’m a prodigy in the making."

"Does that mean I’m also a prodigy?"

Lifting a palm also covered in aura, she smiled.

"Of course you are."

Her friend, clearly dejected, hung his shoulders low, his confidence completely shattered. But his lips soon parted into a smile.

"You know what, Val... You’re not just a prodigy. You’re a star... the protagonist. So—"

---

An intense taste of nostalgia squeezed her heart as she opened her eyes and found herself staring at the broad back of Art.

"You’re a rather scandalous teacher."

She was currently being carried on his back, but she made no attempt to get off. She was too mentally exhausted for that anyway.

"And you’re one persistent child."

She couldn’t see his expression, but she had a vague feeling he was smiling.

"What if the assassin returns?"

Leaning forward and stabilizing her hands wrapped around his neck, she remarked.

"I don’t need to confront them—just find a way to escape with you."

His words didn’t come out as she expected. Before, he had acted self-sacrificing, but now he was considering an alternative, even if it seemed impossible. His answer filled her with relief.

"Did you know I was an ace runner back in high school?"

"No."

"Well, I was." He proudly announced. "I was always first in track and field. Pretty impressive, right?"

"I guess so."

Placing her chin on his shoulder, she observed the streets, attracting the attention of a few curious onlookers.

"They probably think we’re a couple," she muttered.

"Well, they’re wrong. You’re too young for my liking."

"And you’re too old for mine."

Both disgusted by the scenarios playing in their heads, they voiced their complaints.

"What do you mean, old? I’m barely twenty-one!"

"And I’m eighteen. Case in point: you’re older than me, so you’re an old man."

"You must be joking, right? It’s just a two-year difference."

"No, I’m not, old man." She teased, poking his cheek and leaving Art irritated.

"Well, I don’t care either way. My taste in women is the mature kind."

"So that’s why you stick around Miss Grim so much. Interesting... very interesting."

"Don’t—not why."

Flustered, Art quickly shut her off.

"You know what? How about we stop talking about our romantic preferences and get you home?"

"Really now? Is Mister Casanova shy now?"

"I’m not shy... Hey, and I’m not a playboy."

"You sure look like one."

"And you look like a depressed brat."

"But I am depressed."

Clearly enjoying teasing him, she leaned even closer.

"You sure don’t talk like one," Art said.

"Well, I do a really good job at hiding it—just like you do a hot job pretending to be a teacher."

"Birds of a feather, eh?"

"Don’t rope me in with you," she snapped. "The mere thought of having something in common with you gives me chills."

"Am I really that bad?"

"A lot. As a matter of fact, the class girls consider you an enemy of women with that devilish look of yours."

"Thanks for the compliment, but I prefer to be friends with women."

"Well, Trish definitely doesn’t want friendship."

"Come on, Val. You’ve interacted with that child for almost two weeks. You know she’s a bit... how do I put it?"

"Crazy."

"Yes." Art nodded.

Trish, in the game’s storyline, would be considered the second protagonist and main love interest for Valerie. While she did have villainous traits, she was relatively a good person... most of the time, at least—so long as her main target of attraction didn’t do something too eccentric, like he was doing now.

No matter how Art saw it, giving Val a piggyback ride would get him in trouble—because the two were literally roommates. But yeah, this was planned. A few years of his lifespan might be shaved off, but eh—it would ignite jealousy within Trish.

Reaching the student dorm—an arrangement of multiple flats—he approached the one Val stayed in, which he knew from playing the game.

"You can drop me off here." Valerie, suddenly growing tense, requested.

Her unfocused eyes darted around the entrance, probably searching for any trace of Trish.

"Nope. I’ll get you to the receptionist hall, then you get off." Art, somewhat enjoying her panic—especially after she called him old—denied her request and began ascending the stairs leading inside the building.

"Teacher... please." She pled, her fingers gripping his neck and pinching it.

Art registered the pain, but he didn’t let her go. Soon, he approached the glass automatic door.

It parted for him to enter, which he did with Val on his back.

A few passing students threw them curious glances, while the receptionist knitted her brows.

"I’m her teacher, and she got injured."

Narrating a half-truth, he pointed at the bandages, causing her to nod in understanding as she gestured for them to proceed.

Art, nodding in satisfaction, was just about to do so when—

"Master." A familiar voice reached him.

"Right on time."

Licking his lips—to Valerie’s dismay—he smirked evilly and turned to meet the voice.