Bémore had been certain that her reunion with Samimi would be like two powder kegs colliding!
They’d throw tantrums, accuse each other, escalate into physical brawls, maybe even jump straight to staff-to-butt combat with no words exchanged.
She already had her L-shaped black wooden staff clutched tightly in her hand, ready to fight at a moment’s notice.
But she never expected Samimi to greet her so… cordially.
Back in the Hero’s Party, Samimi never bothered saying hello to anyone—aloof and dismissive like a total diva.
Worse, she’d always sneak behind Bémore and grab her butt with ghost claws or flip her skirt with iron fingers. An absolute menace.
Now she was hesitating to touch her?
She was considering someone else’s feelings?
Fake. So fake. You fraud, Samimi.
“Long time no see,” Bémore finally said, forcing a strained smile onto her face, trying her best to appear friendly.
She had no choice—she was here undercover, after all. She couldn’t just start throwing punches immediately. What kind of spy blows their cover on Day One?
Actually, this submissive attitude from Samimi worked in Bémore’s favor. It would make infiltration easier.
“Samimi, although we’ve had some… minor disputes in the past, let time wash it all away. Even if we’re no longer teammates, we can at least be classmates.”
Suppressing her revulsion, Bémore even reached out to shake hands—pretending to be gracious and mature.
“Of course we can! Let’s drink this juice and call it even. We’ll be companions and close as sisters!”
Samimi grabbed Bémore’s hand with a smile. Just like that, they “reconciled.”
…Wait, what kind of fantasy world person even says stuff like “let bygones be bygones”? That sounded so weird, Samimi almost broke character to comment on it.
Clap clap clap~!
The girls of Darkmoon Dormitory were genuinely touched by the sight and burst into applause for their budding sisterhood.
Only Rebecca the priestess narrowed her eyes, staring coldly at Bémore. Her face clearly spelled “I don’t trust you.”
“Miss Rebecca…”
Bémore felt baffled under that gaze and tried to keep her smile on.
Had she ever actually done anything to betray the priestess?
Why was Rebecca staring at her like she was the one who’d ruined everything? Even more resentful than Samimi?
Sure, Bémore had once recruited Rebecca into the Fire School, but if she chose the wrong team afterward, that wasn’t Bémore’s fault.
But Bémore didn’t really take Rebecca seriously anyway—just a flip-flopping priestess always clinging to whoever had the upper hand.
“I’m watching you. Don’t think I don’t know what the Fire School is like. You people love to torch everything,” Rebecca growled.
“You’re being overly dramatic. Even the Fire School doesn’t go that far. Besides, I’m no longer part of them. I got kicked out. That’s why I ended up here,” Bémore replied coldly.
“Hmph.”
Rebecca clearly didn’t buy it but had no solid proof either.
“Let’s not ruin the mood. This is Bémore-senpai’s welcome party. Let’s enjoy ourselves.”
Samimi gave her brightest smile.
Bémore-senpai!?
Did those words just come out of Samimi’s mouth??
Bémore’s scalp tingled. She almost wanted to punch her right there.
But they had just “reconciled,” and whoever threw the first punch lost—that would mean falling into her trap!
Wait a minute—was this all just a calculated act by Samimi to disgust her? Nothing else could explain this revolting friendliness.
Last time on the plains, she’d literally thrown rocks at her hat! Absolutely shameless.
There’s a scheme. There’s definitely a scheme!
Hmph. Don’t think the White-Haired Witch is easy to fool!
Bémore sat down stiffly, maintaining her guard while nibbling on snacks with the others.
“Eat more, Bémore-senpai.”
Samimi kept placing food on her plate.
“Enough, really.”
Bémore wasn’t a talkative person. Most of the time, she just quietly listened while eating. Before long, she was so full her stomach hurt.
“……”
Rebecca sat on the side, visibly sulking and pouting.
She was clearly jealous—seeing Samimi treat Bémore so kindly made her feel sour.
But Rebecca was the kind of person who wore her heart on her sleeve. Everyone could tell she was jealous. Samimi would probably soothe her later.
The truly dangerous types were the ones who bottled up jealousy and resentment, putting pressure on themselves until they exploded and dragged everyone into a dramatic meltdown.
Bémore… was exactly that kind of person.
That’s why she was a socially anxious girl in the first place.
And Samimi knew this type very well.
Even if she’d transmigrated and become this twisted, chaotic, hedonistic monster, her past self had also been kind of socially anxious.
Why do people become socially anxious?
Because they think too much—constantly viewing themselves through the imagined eyes of others.
“If I say this, will I offend someone?”
“Am I being awkward?”
“Was that too familiar?”
“Am I being too distant?”
And by the time you finish mentally analyzing it all, the moment to speak has long passed.
Your brain blocks your throat. That’s why socially anxious people appear silent.
“The Fire School is awful. Even turning on their own people… I feel bad for you.”
Samimi sat beside Bémore with a graceful posture and just the right amount of distance. She looked the part of the perfect best friend.
She’s still putting on an act! Still sipping that tea! The kind of “tea” that makes your hair stand on end!
“?”
Rebecca stared, dumbfounded.
Was this really the Samimi she knew?
The “atonement nun” was supposed to be gentle but firm—warm but commanding. Why was she suddenly sounding so soft and sweet around the White-Haired Witch?
One thing was clear now: Samimi was absolutely faking it.
But why? What was she up to?
“Mm.”
Bémore replied with a voice as tiny as a mosquito’s, clearly not interested in engaging.
“Meeting here must be fate. Why not join the Healing School? Let’s study together!”
Samimi beamed.
“Oh.”
Bémore’s cold, indifferent reply barely qualified as acknowledgment.
But deep inside—she finally understood why Samimi was acting so nice.
She wanted to rope her into the Healing School!
Of course. OF COURSE.
She almost believed Samimi had turned over a new leaf.
Now it all made sense. Samimi was just trying to recruit her.
Heh… I knew you hadn’t changed. Kicked out of the team, kicked out of your family—just like a parasitic worm trying to latch onto a new host.
…Truly a long-winded inner monologue.
Classic overthinking from a socially anxious girl.
And the funniest part?
This time… she was actually right.
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