CHAPTER 1460: STRANGE BEHAVIOR

Lydia’s heart thumped like a war drum as she stepped out of the alley. Passing a fruit truck, her gaze flicked inside. Immediately, she saw Owen lean lazily on the window frame, Dany beside him, and both gave her a quick glance when they saw her.

A faint breath of relief escaped her chest. A little farther on, she caught sight of Lloyd, disguised as a middle-aged man with a thick beard and glasses, quietly sipping coffee while pretending to read a newspaper. When their eyes met, he gave her the quickest of glances before returning to his paper, as if nothing were amiss.

Her heartbeat began to steady. She wasn’t alone, Owen, Dany, Lloyd, Garrof, Jay, and no doubt other Noxcra agents were scattered in the crowd, watching her, keeping her safe. Soon after, the tension in her chest began to subside.

Ahead stretched a long queue of people, leading to a large white tent. Men and women in crisp white uniforms stood inside. Meanwhile, a group of men wearing white military garb, unmistakably the Paladins guarding the long lines.

The sight of their spotless uniforms made bile rise in Lydia’s throat. The display was so carefully crafted, so pious, so sanctimonious, as if they were divine emissaries of justice.

After knowing what she knows, Lydia felt nothing but intense disgust that simmered beneath her skin, but she forced herself to smother it, curving her lips into a polite smile as she approached.

"Where were you?" a sharp voice snapped. The head of the healers stood before her, eyes cold and unyielding.

Lydia lowered her gaze and answered in a meek, nervous tone. "Forgive me, Lady Hartley. All the nearby bathrooms were full, and it took longer than expected."

The woman, called Lady Hartley, is a middle-aged woman in her forties, with a stern face that can make any naughty kid cry in fright. Her eyes flicked toward the endless line of waiting citizens. The excuse was believable, yet her expression did not soften.

She scanned Lydia’s face for a second before she ordered her curtly, "Back to your post. Many have been waiting,"

"Yes, Lady Hartley." Lydia bowed deeply before hurrying into an empty booth.

Lady Hartley watches Lydia back with an unreadable expression, then she turns around and continues with her duty.

Not long after, at Lydia Booth, an old man shuffled in, gaunt and sickly. Lydia forced a warm smile, gesturing for him to sit. "Please, have a seat," she said gently, preparing to treat him.

At the same time, somewhere else, Jay leaned against his desk, eyes fixed on a wall of flat screens. His subordinates’ hands moved briskly upon the keyboard, while the other was busy sorting documents and answering phones, only Jay focused on the live feeds.

"Who is the woman speaking to Lydia?" Jay asked, eyes never leaving the monitors.

One of his agents tapped rapidly, pulling up a file. "Dominique Hartley. Age forty-five. Born in Wellington, Dolza," she recited. After a short pause, she added, "She’s the new principal of the White Rose School and also works as a supervisor for the organization."

"How about family?" Jay pressed.

The agent typed a moment longer, then shook her head. "No family."

Jay gave a brief nod. "Okay." He folded his arms across his chest and kept his gaze on the screen.

Watching Lydia move with such ease among the healers, he felt a flicker of satisfaction. She blended so well, her gestures and tone seamless. These people had lived and worked alongside one another for years; therefore, it wouldn’t be easy to fool them.

Not even Lory, with all her skill, could have carried off this kind of infiltration. But Lydia... she was proving to be the right choice.

For Lydia herself, everything around her felt like déjà vu; it felt familiar and foreign at the same time. She remembered her days as a student at the White Rose School: how thrilled she’d been to join in social work, convinced she was fulfilling some noble purpose.

Now, after uncovering the truth, those memories cut like a cruel slap. All that time wasted in a corrupt, deceitful organization. At least now she had the chance to make things right. Maddeline must have felt the same as her, that was why the two of them had bonded so quickly, as they both lost an important person because of the organization, and they were also hunting down like an animals.

An hour later, the queue finally emptied. The healers were herded onto a minibus bound for the White Rose building, told they would rest there. Once inside, a senior healer passed out small potion vials.

"Drink up, everyone. You must take care of your health," the woman said brightly, her smile wide.

The others drank without hesitation, but Lydia froze. The liquid was wrong. The vial contained a deep red potion, nothing like the bright green or golden hues she remembered from ordinary mana restoratives.

Suddenly, she got goosebumps, her every instinct screamed not to touch it. But if she refused, suspicion would immediately fall on her. Her pulse quickened. Think, Lydia. Think!

Then suddenly flashed in her thought, she remembered Owen once teach her a simple trick if she ever force to drinking something she didn’t like. Her expression become calmed, she pull the lid off, then raised it to her lips as though she was drinking, and with a subtle flick of her wrist, poured the contents into her sleeve. The cloth soaked it up, hidden from view.

When the senior healer came around collecting empties, Lydia handed hers back with a polite smile. The woman’s expression softened in satisfaction, certain that Lydia had complied.

Only when she turned away did Lydia allow herself a quiet sigh of relief.

But a question gnawed at her: What was in that potion? She had never once encountered it during her time at the White Rose. Back then, no one ever gave them anything after doing charity work. Is this a new thing?

Unease clouded Lydia’s face. She turned slightly toward the girl sitting beside her—a face she recognized from her old class.

"Hey, Amy," Lydia said softly, forcing casualness into her tone. "That potion’s amazing, isn’t it?"

Amy’s eyes lit up as she turned, smiling with excitement. "It is, isn’t it! Everything made by us is the best. Not only does it recover mana faster than a normal potion, it lifts my mood, too. And the taste—it’s so much better!"

Lydia curved her lips into a faint smile, but inside, her heart jolted. Made by the organization itself... That could never be good. A chilling thought struck her: What if they had laced it with something from that creature, Zalchana?

No. She couldn’t drink it. Not ever.

"Y—Yeah. Tasty," Lydia replied, her voice tight as she faked a smile.

Disgust churned in Lydia’s stomach, the potion’s residue clinging unpleasantly to her sleeve. She kept whispering to herself like a mantra: It’s fine—it’s fine. I’ll scrub it off the moment we’re back in the dorms.

"Hey, aren’t you excited?" Amy suddenly clasped her hands, her voice bubbling with joy.

"Eh? What?" Lydia blinked at her blankly.

Amy pouted in mock disappointment. "Did you forget? In two days, we’ll be prepared to receive the blessing! How great is that?!" she squealed, practically bouncing in her seat.

"O...oh yeahhh, of course. It’s... awesome." Lydia forced the last word out, each syllable heavier than lead.

Thankfully, Amy didn’t notice her strain, too wrapped up in her own delight. "It is! Can you imagine? After this, our powers will grow stronger, and we’ll be sent out into the world to perform our deeds. We might even serve the organization’s Inner Circle! Some say we could be chosen to work for the Constelation members themselves. Ohhh, I hope I get to be Mr. Salvo De Rova’s assistant—or maybe Mr. Ellias Khan’s. Honestly, I don’t care which, as long as I get close to them. That would be the dream of my life!"

Amy giggled, lost in her fantasies, while Lydia broke into a cold sweat. Those names sent a shiver down her spine. Most healers might be clueless about the organization’s crimes, but the Constellations members, no, they were different.

They worked directly with Alexander Behrenn himself. They knew everything. In fact, they were most likely the very ones who had given the order to carry out all these evil plans. Clenching her hands in her lap, Lydia feigned excitement, forcing her lips into a smile she didn’t feel.

Fortunately, the bus finally arrived. The healers filed out, stepping through the steel gates of the White Rose compound. The building rose before them like a miniature palace, all curving arches and gleaming white pillars. Lydia’s breath caught. She remembered the time she had desperately tried to escape from this place, clawing for freedom.

And now—here she was again, walking back into its jaws.

Lydia inhaled deeply, but this time it wasn’t fear that filled her, but a resolution. She reminded herself of the important mission she carried on. Yes, she was no longer the naïve, gullible student who once bowed her head to whatever the organization lied.

No. She was the loyal subject of the Lucient family, and she was entrusted with an important mission by Princess Lorient herself, and she will not disappoint her. NO WAY!

One way or another, she would save her fellow healers, then she would tear away the lies of this wretched place, and she would uncover Zalchana’s lair location. She will end this nightmare!

The moment Lydia arrived at her room, she rushed straight into the bathroom. For a second, she froze, staring at the reflection in the mirror. Even knowing it was only temporary, the sight of a stranger’s face on her unsettled her. She patted her cheeks, testing the unfamiliar skin, and a small, humorless smile tugged at her lips.

"Hello Jasmine," she blew her cheeks.

Shaking off the thought, she undressed quickly. From her bra, she pulled the small stack of Versipell potions, wrapping them carefully in her dirty clothes before stepping into the shower. She scrubbed herself clean, paying extra attention to the sleeve where the red potion had spilled, determined to erase any trace of it.

A sudden knock jolted her.

"Jasmine, how long are you going to be in there? I need to pee!" Amy’s voice rang from the other side; apparently, she was also Jasmine’s roommate, maybe that’s why they sit together on the bus.

"In a minute!" Lydia called back, trying to sound casual.

She slipped into a bathrobe, checked once more that the Versipell was hidden securely in her laundry, then opened the door with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I took too long."

"It’s fine. Now move, I’m desperate." Amy chuckled as she pushed past and hurried inside.

Soon, she heard a humming drift out from the bathroom. Lydia frowned. Since when is Amy this cheerful?

She wasn’t close with Amy, but she didn’t remember that Amy was this bubbly. If she wasn’t wrong, she once heard Amy whining after long hours of charity work, complaining about sore feet or fatigue with her friends. However, today, she never complains; in fact, no one is complaining at all.

They were all strangely... joyful. Too joyful.