Timmy Roy slumped in his chair.
At this moment, his mind could no longer generate any more thoughts.
The verbal attacks against him continued to unfold, but Timmy Roy had already given up resistance.
It didn't matter anymore.
Everything was over.
From today onwards, he would never be able to hold his head up at Imperial College.
Or rather, that is assuming he would even have the opportunity to continue studying at Imperial College after all this was exposed.
[Timmy Roy feels despair regarding the future, Malice Points +200]
Russell quietly listened to the System prompt sounding in his mind, the corners of his mouth rising slightly.
This was just the appetizer.
The main course was yet to come.
Russell ignored Timmy, who had essentially turned into a dead dog, and walked straight to the side, standing next to Mary and Charlotte.
"A reporter named Clark Kent, that really is a lame enough excuse," Charlotte said indifferently, while Mary looked at Russell with equal curiosity.
"Where exactly did you get those letters?"
"What I said is true," Russell said with a serious face. "I really didn't lie to anyone; I really met him on the tram."
Hearing this, Charlotte and Mary frowned simultaneously, looking at Russell.
"Are you sure?" Charlotte asked.
"There are only two possibilities now," Russell said calmly, showing no sign of a guilty conscience. "Either what I said is true, or I am Phantom Thief Moriarty. You pick one."
"If you put it that way, then I am more willing to believe in the existence of this person, Clark Kent," Charlotte said.
"Me too." Mary nodded, expressing her agreement.
The skills didn't match.
Mary had taken in the entire fight just now. Although Russell didn't strike back, judging from his dodging posture, he had obviously practiced somewhat.
As for that Phantom Thief, he was completely a layman.
Based on this point, the young girl could almost rule out the possibility that the two were the same person.
"So, on your way here, you met the Phantom Thief who had just finished burgling the Roy Estate, and you chatted with him for a bit.
"He learned that you were a student at Imperial College, so he incidentally shoved the love letters he stole from Timmy Roy into your hands."
Charlotte looked at Russell. "Is that it?"
"Pretty much." Russell shrugged.
"Leaving aside how low the probability of such a thing is, you didn't realize at the time that he was Phantom Thief Moriarty?"
"Should I have realized it...?" Russell paused. "Even if I did realize it, do you think anyone would believe me if I pointed at a reporter who looked honest and simple on a tram and said he was Moriarty? Besides, he even showed me a business card."
"What business card?" Charlotte pressed.
"His professional business card. It said he works at a newspaper office called the 'Daily Chronicle'."
"Are you sure London actually has this newspaper office?" Charlotte asked.
"How should I know? Are newspaper offices in London some kind of rare enterprise?" Russell asked in return. "I only know The Guardian and The Times. Besides, aren't you uninterested in that Phantom Thief?"
"Sorry, my mistake. I shouldn't have held excessive expectations for your breadth of knowledge." Charlotte pinched the bridge of her nose.
Mary watched the two bickering with great interest. After they both quieted down, she finally found a chance to interject: "So... do you still remember what that Phantom Thief, I mean Clark Kent, looked like?"
"White shirt, black-rimmed glasses, a tie that was washed slightly white. Anyway, he didn't look like any sort of elite," Russell said.
"Could you be more precise?" Mary continued. "For example, facial features or the like?"
"This..." Russell frowned, revealing an expression of trying hard to recall. After a good while, he said, "He... didn't have any features."
"Didn't have any features?" Mary knitted her brows.
"This means either that guy looks very mediocre, which is why he has to use a flashy mask for every operation.
"Or it means Russell Watson is actually face-blind. Perhaps everyone looks like they have no... features in his eyes."
Charlotte shrugged.
"I am not face-blind, thank you." Russell rolled his eyes at Charlotte. "If that guy really had something memorable about him, I would definitely remember it. But the fact is—he just didn't have any features.
"The only thing about his entire person that I could remember was that pair of glasses. Apart from that, if you threw him onto the street, I don't think more than five people would be able to recognize him."
Hearing this, Charlotte and Mary fell into silence by coincidence.
The two exchanged a look, a look that contained information only geniuses could read.
—Do you think he is lying?
—To be honest, it doesn't really look like it... but it is a bit suspicious.
In the end, Mary could only note down this information, preparing to verify it personally when the time came.
As for now...
Mary's gaze moved past Russell's shoulder, looking toward Timmy Roy, who was still slumped in the chair as if he had lost his soul.
"What should we do next?"
"What else can we do?" Russell shrugged. "Of course, we celebrate the complete success of the party."
As he spoke, he looked around the surroundings.
The originally lively grand hall had now become deserted.
Most of the students who had come to attend the Icebreaker Party had tacitly chosen to leave early.
After all, no one wanted to get involved in this farce of the wealthy families.
The few who remained were gathering in corners in groups of two or three, whispering with a mentality of purely watching the drama.
The band had already stopped playing. Those few so-called friends of Timmy Roy, after some hesitation, finally braced themselves and, under the gaze of others, hoisted him up from the chair, preparing to leave this place of trouble.
"Russell Watson..."
Timmy Roy, who was being held up, stared dead at Russell as he passed by him.
"This is all your fault..."
"You're welcome." Russell calmly raised his wine glass toward him, as if seeing off an old friend. "Be careful on the road, don't fall."
[Timmy Roy's humiliation and resentment have reached their peak, Malice Points +130]
Watching Timmy Roy's wretched figure disappear at the entrance, Russell finally withdrew his gaze with satisfaction.
The current Malice Points balance was 900.
Truly a night of harvest.
Filled with the joy of a bumper crop.
"Let's go too," he said to the two beside him. "There's no point in staying here any longer."
Charlotte nodded noncommittally, and Mary also agreed with a smile.
And so, under the gaze of the few remaining guests, the three walked side by side out of the auditorium's main doors.
The night breeze was slightly cool, blowing away the turbid air inside the auditorium that was mixed with perfume and alcohol.
The three walked on the empty cobblestone path of the campus, the moonlight stretching their shadows very long.
It wasn't until they walked out of the school gates that Mary's gaze fell upon a black carriage by the street.
That carriage seemed to have been parked there for some time. Upon seeing her come out of the school gate, the coachman nodded to her.
Thus, the smile on the young girl's face gradually faded.
It was like a beautiful dream had finally reached the time to wake up.
She took a deep breath, then forced herself to smile again.
"My family's coachman has come to pick me up." Mary pointed to the carriage. "I'll be going first then. See you the day after tomorrow, Russell, and Charlotte—I can call you that, right?"
"Suit yourself, but I don't think you'll see me the day after tomorrow." Charlotte shrugged.
"It doesn't matter." Mary smiled, then turned her head to look at Russell.
"See you the day after tomorrow, Mary," Russell said.
Mary waved to the two of them. Her moon-white skirt hem swayed gently in the night breeze, like a lily about to fade into the night color.
She turned around, walking with elegant steps toward the carriage that was entirely pitch-black and emblazoned with the Morstan family crest.
"Miss..."
"Let's go," Mary said indifferently.
"Time to go back."
Celebrating the promotion, there will be another update at 8 PM.
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