Reborn with my killer's looks-Chapter 36: Maybe, maybe not

The morning news anchor’s voice echoed through the Veltman estate dining room.

"breaking news from last night’s incident at the Azzuri mansion. Two unidentified assailants, believed to be members of the seventh seal sect engaged in what witnesses describe as a destructive confrontation before fleeing the scene. Multiple casualties were reported, including....."

The screen shifted to show the mansion’s exterior, police tape cordoning off the area.

"Robert Azzuri, CEO of Azzuri Innovations, was found dead among his security personnel. This comes amid growing controversy surrounding the company’s alleged involvement in illegal substance distribution following the warehouse raid in Sector 7 three weeks ago."

Mira Veltman sat alone at the long table, her purple-gray braids falling over her shoulder as she stabbed at her breakfast without eating.

The news anchor continued. "In a press conference held early this morning, Robert Azzuri’s son and heir, Quantico Azzuri, addressed the media."

The footage cut to a young man in an immaculate purple suit standing before a wall of microphones. His white hair perfectly slickded back, and his blue eyes bright with what could be mistaken for sincerity.

Q’s had a smooth sound to his voice. "I want to extend my deepest condolences to the families affected by my father’s actions. Had I known the extent of his involvement in these illegal operations, I would have exposed him myself."

Cameras flashed and reporters shouted questions.

Q raised a hand, and the room quieted.

"Effective immediately, I will be taking over as CEO of Azzuri Innovations. My first priority is to repair the damage my father has done to our company’s reputation and to the trust of the people." His confident smile never wavered. "I promise you all. A new age for Azzuri Innovations begins today."

Mira’s fork clattered against her plate.

She pushed away from the table, the chair she had been sitting on scraping loudly against the floor.

"Liar," she muttered, grabbing her bag.

The television continued playing to an empty room as she left for Virelia.

Huey Cross stood in his dorm room, adjusting his red cassock in the mirror.

The room felt different without Calvin’s presence.

His roommate’s bed was perfectly made, untouched from the night before.

"He didn’t come back," Huey said quietly.

"Correct, sir," Jazz replied in his head.

"Calvin Esposito spent the night at the St. Helena church."

"Can’t blame him." Huey grabbed an apple from the small fridge. "Finding out your roommate is a cold blooded killer isn’t exactly easy to process."

"He will adjust."

"Maybe." Huey took a bite of the apple. "Or maybe he’ll rat me out and I’ll spend the rest of my life in an Arcanum holding cell."

"You don’t believe that."

"No," Huey admitted. "But it’s still possibility."

He handled his bag and headed for the door.

The hallway was quiet, most students were already at morning mass.

Huey descended the stairs, the sound of his loafers against the floor echoed in the stairwell.

He pushed open the main entrance door and stopped to find.....

Posters.

Dozens of them, plastered across the colonnade walls, lamp post and even the statue of Saints in the courtyard.

Each one bore the same message in bold red letters:

"THE CURSE OF HOUSE CROSS: A MENACE TO VIRELIA"

Below the text was a photo of Huey, clearly taken without his knowledge alongside a list of accusations:

- Connected to illegal substance distribution

- Displays insider knowledge of criminal operations

- Radical Achusoi activist with violent tendencies

- Poses threat to Toppler students

Huey walked up to the nearest poster and ripped it down.

The paper crinkled in his hands as he read the details.

Some of it was true but twisted to make him seem like the villain.

He had defended Achusoi students during MMM and that was tagged as him being an activist who’d result to harassment with tendency for violence.

But the rest...

"Only the person who actually di it would know these details," he muttered.

"Yo, Huey!"

Willy jogged up, Wheeler perched on his shoulder looking unusually subdued.

His expression didn’t carry signs good news with it.

"You’ve seen them?"

"Hard to miss." Huey crumpled the poster in his fist. "They’re everywhere."

"Not just the posters." Willy pulled out his phone, scrolling quickly. "There’s a whole campaign online. Videos, posts and anonymous accounts all targeting you."

He held up the screen.

The video showed Huey holding a vial of red serum. The caption read: "Achusoi student caught with dangerous experimental drug. How did he get it?"

"That’s out of context," Huey said immediately. "I was investigating"

"I know that. You know that." Willy swiped to another video. "But they don’t."

This one was from MMM. Huey standing up to Professor Thadeus, and defending the other Achusoi students.

The caption: "Radical activist willing to do ANYTHING to protect his beliefs. Even harass topplers."

Comments flooded the screen:

"Always knew he was sketchy"

"Achusoi shouldn’t even be allowed at Virelia"

"My cousin got addicted to that purple stuff because of people like him"

Huey’s jaw tightened.

"All the accounts are anonymous," Willy continued. "But the info is too specific. Whoever’s doing this has access to campus surveillance or was physically present at these events."

"Milo."

"That’s what I’m thinking too." Willy pocketed his phone. "She’s been spreading rumors since the field assessment. Now she’s gone to far."

"She wants me expelled. Or worse."

"Yeah, well, it might work." Willy’s expression darkened. "What you did during the assessment ; I meanfiguring out Riva’s betrayal and identifying the trap. People are calling it ’insider knowledge’ now instead of deduction. Arcanum’s probably gonna question you." 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

Huey forced himself to relax. Tension wouldn’t help.

"She knows this doesn’t actually prove anything," he said. "She’s just trying to make me panic so I’d do something stupid."

"And?"

"I’m not going to give her the satisfaction."

Willy grinned slightly. "That’s the spirit. Just... be careful, yeah? Public opinion’s a powerful weapon."

"I know."

The bell for morning mass rang across campus.

"Come on," Willy said. "We’re already late."

They walked together toward the central dome, Wheeler chittering softly.

Mandatory Morning Meditation was exactly as tedious as always.

Huey sat cross-legged at the back with the other Achusoi students, going through the motions of breathing exercises while his mind worked through the problem.

Milo was smart.

She wasn’t attacking him directly; she was poisoning public perception, and turning the student body against him so that when Arcanum came asking questions, they’d already believe he was guilty.

It was psychological warfare,

and it was working.

He noticed Suzie Zhao sitting several rows ahead, her posture as perfect as always.

But she kept glancing toward the front of the hall.

Toward Mira Veltman, which made Huey frown.

Mira sat alone, her usual spot beside other Presbyter-ranked students conspicuously empty. Her silver-ringed eyes were focused on nothing.

Something was off.

Professor Thadeus droned on about pneuma flow and spiritual discipline, but Huey tuned him out.

When the session finally ended, students began filing out.

Suzie stood immediately and walked directly toward Mira.

He seriously considered following them.

"Cross."

Professor Thadeus’s voice cut through the crowd, and Huey turned to meet his gaze.

"Vice Dean Martinez requires your presence in his office. Immediately."

The professor’s tone suggested this wasn’t a request.

Several students nearby stopped to stare.

Huey kept his expression neutral. "Understood."

He walked past Thadeus without another word, ignoring the whispers that followed.

Willy caught up with him in the hallway.

"What’s going on?"

"Vice Dean’s office." Huey adjusted his cross necklace. "Probably about the rumors."

"It was just a hunch I had, but to think they’d actually interrogate you?"

"They’ll question me, find nothing, and let me go." Huey’s voice was calm.

"You sure about that?"

"Not in the least bit. But panicking won’t help."

Willy’s expression softened. "Want me to come with you?"

"I’ll be fine." Huey managed a small smile. "Go to class. I’ll catch up later."

"Alright. But if you’re not back by lunch, I’m staging a rescue mission."

"I’m sure Wheeler would love that."

They parted ways at the next intersection.

Huey walked alone through the corridors,

The Vice Dean’s office was in the administrative building, a separate structure connected to the main campus by a covered walkway.

Huey was halfway there when he heard Footsteps behind him, Multiple sets.

He didn’t see the need to turn around or speed and instead kept on walking.

"Hey!"

A hand grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around.

Five students. All wearing masks, crude things made from cloth and tape, hiding their identities.

The one in front was stocky, and built like a boxer. His voice was muffled behind the mask.

"You’re Huey Cross."

"That’s what it says on my student ID."

"Don’t get smart with us, Achusoi." The stocky one stepped closer. "My best friend is suffering because of you, his addicted to that purple shit and can’t even function without it anymore."

Another masked student spoke up, his voice shaking with anger. "My sister too. She’s in the hospital because of what you did."

Huey knew it’d be pointless trying to speak since into these angry students but he opted to try anyway."I didn’t—"

"Shut up!" The stocky one shoved Huey backward. "We know you’ve been spreading that poison around campus, hurting people"

"You’ve got the wrong person."

"Do we?" A third student eyes glowed, showing he had activated his crest and was ready for a fight. "Funny how all this started right around the time you got here."

"Look," Huey said carefully. "I understand you’re angry. Your friends and family are hurting, but attacking me won’t fix that."

"Maybe not." The stocky one cracked his knuckles. "But it’ll make us feel damn better."

They moved all at once, and Huey braced himself—

A hand caught the stocky student’s wrist mid-swing.

"That’s enough."

Dante stood there, his copper-red hair slicked back neatly, and no brass knuckles on his hands. He looked... different. Cleaner and More put-together.

"This doesn’t concern you," the stocky student growled.

"I’m making it my concern." Dante’s grip tightened. "Walk away. Now."

"Who the hell do you think you—"

Dante’s eyes glowed faint gold. He didn’t need to much more since that alone was indication of his bloodine.

A reminder of what he could do if he wanted to.

The masked students hesitated.

Then, one by one, they backed off.

"This isn’t over," the stocky one muttered before they retreated down the hallway.

Dante released a breath, turning to Huey. "You alright?"

"Yeah. Thanks." Huey straightened his cassock. "You didn’t have to do that."

"Maybe not." Dante offered a slight smile. "But I happened to be passing by and couldn’t just stand and watch, yet you strike me as someone who could’ve handled it yourself if Crests hadn’t gotten involved."

"Probably."

They walked together in silence for a moment.

"I get it, you know," Dante said quietly. "Why they’re angry and looking for someone to blame."

Huey glanced at him. "Speaking from experience?"

"Yeah." Dante rubbed the back of his neck. "I just got out of rehab last week. Those purple pills... they messed me up bad and took a lot out of me."

"I’m sorry."

"Don’t be. It was my poor choices that got me there in the first place." He paused. "My girlfriend’s still in there. She’s scared to leave because she thinks she’ll relapse the second she has freedom again."

Huey’s chest tightened.

"I promise I’ll find whoever’s actually distributing this stuff," he said. "And I’ll stop them."

Dante looked at him for a long moment.

Then nodded. "I believe you."

They reached the administrative building entrance.

"This your stop?" Dante asked.

"Yeah. Vice Dean’s office."

"Good luck." Dante extended his hand.

Huey shook it. "Thanks again."

"Anytime."

Dante walked away, hands in his pockets, looking like someone who was genuinely trying to be better.

Huey watched him go, then pushed open the heavy oak door.

The administrative building’s interior was all polished marble and religious iconography.

Byzantine mosaics lined the walls, depicting the Prime Twelve in various acts of heroism.

Huey climbed the stairs to the second floor.

Vice Dean Martinez’s office was at the end of the hall, the door slightly ajar.

Huey knocked.

"Enter."

He pushed the door open and stopped,

cause vice Dean Martinez wasn’t there.

Instead, a man sat in the leather chair behind the desk, his posture relaxed despite the formal setting.

Two Lionheart operatives stood flanking the door, their hands resting on their weapons.

Reece Oxford, the Magister of Lionheart smiled.

"Mr. Cross. Please, have a seat."

Huey’s heart rate spiked.

One of the operatives pulled out a chair.

Huey sat slowly, keeping his hands visible.

Reece leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk.

Despite being blind, he seemed to look directly at Huey.

"I’ve been very interested in meeting you," Reece said.

The door clicked shut behind him.