Villain : Nonchalant Greedy-Chapter 13: Vivantis

"What is that supposed to mean?"

That was Arsene's question. His shirt buttons were all in place, and there was nothing on his lips.

But what surprised him even more was Viviana herself.

"That fast? You really are—"

Arsene cut her off,

"What do you mean? Was that a hallucination? Was it the drug from earlier?"

Her confusion quickly turned into a smile.

"A bit of that, yes. But not entirely. You were under an illusion."

"When did you trap me in an illusion? I didn't sense any mana from you. You didn't cast a spell—?" Arsene asked while inspecting his drink again.

Viviana smiled as if trying to tease him.

"Why does it have to be magic?"

Arsene briefly considered the possibility of it being a Singular trait. But when? It couldn't have been while she was playing with his hair or touching his face—Viviana wouldn't have made it that obvious.

So he dismissed the magic theory entirely, his thoughts racing toward other explanations.

Viviana gently ran her thumb across his lips.

"Can't you guess when exactly it happened?"

She blinked sweetly at him. And that's when it hit Arsene—her eyes.

She could use her Singular ability through her eyes. But illusions were physical constructs—how could her eyes alone cast such a thing?

If that was the case, did that mean she was a Singular on the Path of Information?

Arsene was caught in a web of confusion, trying to find the right answer. But the real question lingering in his mind was: When?

When did Viviana trap him in the illusion? Could it have been during the lecture, when she wouldn't stop staring at him?

Was he under her illusion since then?

If so, everything that happened afterward... was it all fake?

That opened another possibility: Was he still in the classroom right now? Was all of this just a crafted illusion?

He dismissed that idea. Everything felt too real.

Wait...

Arsene ran his hands over her face. Viviana didn't resist. Her full lips, the small nose, golden hair—until he reached her eyes.

Thick black lashes gave her eyes their beauty.

But that's when Arsene realized something—this wasn't Viviana.

Her eyes were sky blue, not the amber shade he'd seen earlier.

And then he heard a soft voice next to his ear:

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"Booo!"

He turned to see another Viviana. No—someone exactly like her. Same body, same posture, same everything. But there was a subtle difference, something he couldn't quite put into words.

For a second, he thought it might be a mimic like Sarle's clone. But the eye color gave it away—this one had amber eyes.

The real Viviana was smiling at him.

He turned back to the one he had his hands on, still gently holding her face as if she wanted to feel the warmth of his palms.

She smiled.

"Nice to meet you! I'm Morta, Viviana's sister."

Arsene let out a quiet sigh. Viviana explained everything afterward—Morta was a Singular specializing in illusions.

Her gesture toward her eyes had nothing to do with using magic through them—it was a clue for him to tell them apart.

Arsene found himself seated between this fiery twin duo. Both sisters apologized—though they were clearly amused by the situation.

They both praised him for being the first to break Morta's illusion so quickly.

Even some professors took hours.

Arsene wondered silently: Do they pull this same trick on everyone?

If so, then all those questions Viviana asked earlier—were they just part of the game?

But the emotional intensity didn't seem fake. It came from a place too real to be just acting.

He still didn't know exactly how long he had been under the illusion.

So Morta answered for him,

"Right after Viviana threw you onto the couch—she placed you under it. But I didn't expect you to break it that fast!"

Arsene didn't expect Viviana would go that far. She had licked his lips—and half his face. That was... extremely bold.

"But for a fresh student to shatter my illusion that easily?" Morta added with a grin.

"You really are worthy of that Grade 0 reputation."

"What reputation are you talking about?" Arsene asked, puzzled.

"Among students? Not much. But in the upper echelons of the Academy?"

She leaned in.

"You're well-known. Not just you—every Singular from Grade 0 is."

That alone gave Arsene dozens of implications to consider.

"You smell nice," Viviana said suddenly.

"Seriously?" he blinked.

"Yes. Out of everyone I've met, your scent is unique. It carries something natural... and something more."

Arsene didn't know what kind of situation he was caught in between these two twins.

After a while of small talk and far too many bold, personal questions, he felt drained.

Eventually, it was time to leave, and he politely excused himself.

"He would be the perfect target to break, wouldn't he?"

These were Morta's thoughts, and she voiced them to Viviana.

"No! He's not pretending, there's something else about him. That aura of indifference he gives off isn't something you can fake, especially not someone like him, with no real training yet."

"So, breaking him wouldn't feel right, but he would make the perfect target for other things," Viviana smiled, licking her lips.

"As lively as ever," Morta remarked about Viviana's words, "But... you're right. There's something else about him."

Viviana spoke again, "I heard from Damfris that his family identity is unknown. A person without support. He seems like he'll struggle a bit, not against them, but against us."

With an indifferent expression, Morta asked, "Has Shamrock finished sketching it yet?"

"Be patient! You have all the time in the world, Morta," Viviana smiled at her face, just as Arsene disappeared from their sight between the corridors.

"What's that on your face, Morta?" Viviana asked.

Morta, surprised, replied, "What's wrong?"

Viviana approached Morta as if she noticed something that Morta hadn't seen. It was a small hair near her eyelashes. Viviana gently removed it.

"Just a strand of hair, probably from earlier!" Viviana explained.

"Ah, it belongs to him. He was holding my face back then, touching my eyes," Morta said.

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Arsene was in a state of euphoria, for two reasons, actually. Fortunately, they had talked a lot before he moved away further, as if they knew he wouldn't be listening to them.

Of course, as long as there was something connecting him to a goal, he could always use his individuality against them—the ground they stood on, the card they were both holding at the same time.

Arsene wiped his thumb over his lips; there was still a hint of transparent lipstick on them. The first link.

Of course, there's something like a strand of hair you throw at your opponent.

But how could you use your individuality on a seasoned teacher who was also an individual? Of course, this is when they're in a state of complete forgetfulness, a state where they don't expect you to do anything.

A state where they're belittling and undermining your abilities.

That was the moment Arsene had been waiting for to use his individuality. Fortunately, they had talked a lot before moving away from him.

Arsene was currently happy for one reason: first, that his family was unknown. Second, that his hypothesis had been fulfilled.