Chapter 69: About breast augmentation

Lyra nodded, though she didn’t quite understand.

She lay back down on her floor mat, clutching the *Monster Bestiary* to her chest as she watched Freya’s back.

That silhouette was like a mountain.

Quiet, steady, and immovable.

Suddenly, Lyra didn’t feel so worried anymore.

She closed her eyes, the corners of her mouth curling up slightly.

If the Boss said to wait, then she would wait.

Regardless, she would always be here.

—

Late at night.

Freya was still sitting at her desk.

Her pen had stopped moving. In front of her, the paper was filled with neat rows of handwriting.

However, her gaze was fixed on the night sky outside the window.

The clouds were thick tonight, hiding the stars.

She recalled what Horn had said today.

“Your control is good. A pity, though—it’s still a bit off.”

Was that sentence truly an evaluation of her performance?

Or was it—

Some kind of probe?

She closed her eyes.

Everything today felt like a meticulously arranged opening act.

Horn’s appearance, that Phantom Test, and his final words.

And then there was the way he looked at her.

She had seen that look in her previous life.

On Irina’s face.

On Ross’s face.

On the faces of all those who eventually stood against her.

Freya opened her eyes.

The corners of her lips turned up slightly in a faint arc, but the smile was as cold as ice on a winter night.

‘Come on,’ she said silently. ‘Let me see how you want to play this time.’

—

In the distance, the Mutual Aid Society’s activity room was brightly lit.

Irina sat at the head of a long table with a list spread out before her.

The list was packed with names, all of whom had joined the Mutual Aid Society over the past few days.

Standing behind her was a girl wearing a light pink society armband.

“President—” the girl said softly. “Word came from Professor Horn. Today’s probe went smoothly. Freya’s reaction was exactly as he expected.”

Irina nodded. “Excellent.”

She picked up a quill and circled several names on the list.

Those were the commoner students who held the strongest resentment toward the students of noble birth.

She looked at those names, the smile on her lips slowly deepening.

“Have them come see me tomorrow.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

The girl withdrew.

Irina was left alone in the activity room.

She stood up, walked to the window, and pushed it open.

The night wind blew in, carrying the chill of late autumn.

She stared at a distant window where a light was still burning—Freya’s dormitory.

She watched it for a long time.

Then, she whispered a single sentence.

Her voice was so soft it was scattered by the night wind.

But it was the same thing she had said to Freya as she lay dying in a pool of blood in her previous life.

“This time, I will not lose.”

The window slowly groaned shut under her hand.

The night grew deeper.

—

The campus had indeed felt off for the past few days.

As Freya walked toward her classroom, this feeling grew even stronger.

It was as if something invisible and heavy was hanging in the air, like a sweltering afternoon before a thunderstorm, making people inexplicably irritable.

Students gathered in groups of two or three. When they saw her, their gazes would linger for a brief moment before quickly shifting away.

There was no malice or hostility in those looks.

There was only a subtle sense of—

Alienation.

As if she were someone who should not be approached.

The number of students wearing light pink armbands was increasing, spreading through every corner of the campus like silent white flowers.

They huddled together and spoke in hushed tones. Occasional bursts of laughter would always come to an abrupt halt whenever she passed by.

Lyra noticed it too.

She walked by Freya’s side, her red eyes scanning the surroundings warily like a small beast ready to bare its fangs at any moment.

“Boss—” she lowered her voice. “The way these people are looking at you today is even weirder.”

“Mhm.”

“Should we do something?”

“No need.”

Lyra frowned and was about to say something else when her train of thought was interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps.

“Freya!”

A tall girl ran over, panting. She was from the neighboring class; Freya remembered her name, but they hadn’t had much interaction.

The girl stopped and handed over a letter.

“Instructor Kanaya asked me to give this to you. She said Senior Sophie left it for you before she departed.”

Freya took the letter.

Having completed her task, the girl hurried away.

Lyra leaned in, staring curiously at the envelope.

Several words were written on it: *To my dear little Freya.*

The handwriting was rounded and cute, accompanied by a small, crooked heart.

Freya opened the letter.

Inside was a folded piece of paper. Once unfolded, Sophie’s characteristic, enthusiastic handwriting practically jumped off the page.

*Be careful with everything, and wait for me to come back!*

*P.S. That Mutual Aid Society group sent someone to find me a few days ago. They wanted me to join. Hmph, they clearly don’t know whose person I, Sophie, am! I rejected them on the spot! That pink-haired woman even came to persuade me personally, saying something about how “we’re all commoners and should help each other.” I told her straight up that my “mutual aid” is only for people who are worth it. As for her—she isn’t worth it.*

*The look on her face back then, hahahaha! I could laugh about it for a whole year!*

*Little Freya, wait for me to come back! I’ll bring you whatever you want to eat! I heard a new dessert shop opened on East Street, and their honey cake is amazing. We’ll go together when I’m back!*

*Love, Senior Sophie.*

At the bottom, there was a large hand-drawn heart and a kissing emoji. The emoji was drawn with great care, featuring puckered lips, eyes curved into two crescents, and several tiny hearts floating around it.

Freya looked at the letter, the corners of her lips turning up in an extremely faint arc.

Sophie was still the same Sophie.

Passionate as fire and scatterbrained, yet she always looked out for those around her in her own way.

She folded the letter and put it in her pocket.

Lyra had been staring at the letter, and then at the lingering, ghost-like smile on Freya’s face. It felt like a kitten was scratching at her heart.

‘What was written there? Why did the Boss smile? What did that heart and kiss mean?’

She leaned in a bit closer, wanting to sneak a peek, but unfortunately, Freya had already tucked it away.

She could only see a slight outline through the back of the paper—the heart shape was faintly visible.

A heart.

A kiss.

Lyra’s brow furrowed.

She thought of that woman named Sophie, remembered her overly enthusiastic smile the first time they met, how she had opened her arms to hug Freya, and remembered her… her “surging waves.”

Lyra couldn’t help but shudder.

Then, she looked down at herself.

Flat.

Like a vast plain.

She reached out and touched her own chest.

Hard.

Nothing but bone.

She felt again.

Still hard.

She looked up at Freya piteously.

Those red eyes were currently filled with an indescribable emotion—confusion, dissatisfaction, and a little bit of… grievance?

Freya had just finished stowing the letter when she turned around and met that gaze.

Those eyes were watery, like a puppy soaked in the rain, staring at her expectantly as if she had done something terribly wrong.

Freya was taken aback. “What’s wrong?”

Lyra opened her mouth, then hesitated.

She looked down at her chest again.

She looked back up at Freya.

Down again.

Then back up.

Freya’s brow furrowed slightly. “Lyra?”

Lyra finally spoke.

Her voice was muffled, carrying a sense of deadly seriousness.

“Boss, what do I need to do for breast enhancement?”

Freya’s movements froze.

“I feel like my current level of development—” Lyra continued, her tone full of genuine sorrow. “It’s too poor.”

She paused, then added, “It’s nothing compared to that Sophie. It’s so bad that I… I feel like a man.”

Freya stood frozen in place.

Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, casting mottled shadows over them.

Students walked past, talking in low voices.

But Freya couldn’t hear anything else.

She could only hear Lyra’s words echoing in her mind.

‘What do I need to do for breast enhancement…’

Enhancement.

Breast enhancement?

The corner of Freya’s mouth twitched slightly.

She looked at Lyra’s serious face. Those red eyes were filled with sincere confusion and a plea for help, as if the problem she faced right now was the greatest struggle of her life.

More threatening than the Mutual Aid Society.

More terrifying than the Queen’s conspiracies.

More sleep-depriving than Irina’s schemes.

—Breast enhancement.

Freya fell silent.

She remained silent for a long time.

So long that Lyra began to grow uneasy.

“Boss?” she asked cautiously. “Do you… do you know? If you don’t, forget it. I was just asking…”

Freya took a deep breath.

Then, she reached out and pressed her hand onto the top of Lyra’s head.

“You don’t need it.”

Lyra blinked. “Don’t need what?”

“You don’t need… that.”

Lyra was stunned. “But that Sophie—”

“She is her. You are you.”

Lyra still didn’t quite understand, but as she looked into Freya’s eyes, she saw something in those pale purple depths that she couldn’t quite decipher.

It wasn’t disgust.

It wasn’t a brush-off.

It was a serious, almost solemn affirmation.

“You are perfectly fine just as you are.”

Having said her piece, Freya withdrew her hand and turned to continue walking.

Her pace was just a tiny bit faster than usual.

Lyra stood there, dazed, for two seconds.

Then, she hurried to catch up, following right at Freya’s heels.

“Boss!”

“Mhm.”

“Do you really think I’m fine the way I am?”

“…Mhm.”

“Better than that Sophie?”

Freya’s footsteps faltered.

She didn’t look back.

But Lyra noticed that the tips of her ears had turned red again.

Lyra grinned, her small wolf fang gleaming in the sunlight.

She took a few quick steps, grabbed Freya’s arm, and rubbed against it.

“Then I won’t do any enhancement!”

Freya didn’t say anything.

But Lyra felt that the arm she was holding didn’t pull away.

—

In the distance, within the shadows of the school building, someone looked away.

Irina stood behind a pillar, her pink eyes as deep and dark as a pool of water.

She had seen the scene just now—the white-haired girl clutching Freya’s arm, and Freya not pushing her away, even slightly tilting her head to say something.

The image was an eyesore.

Her fingers tightened, nails digging into her palms.

“President?”

A timid voice came from behind her.

Irina turned around, her face already restored to its usual gentle smile.

“What is it?”

“About that… regarding Senior Sophie, we went to persuade her again. She still refuses to join.”