Chapter 93: A Glimpse of Hell

Stats Acquired:

Strength +1394

Agility +1384

Speed +1304

Wisdom +1354

Intelligence +1394

Drainage — Level 5

Flight — Level 5

Carnage — Level 5

Rest — Level 5

Swimming — Level 4

Aura — Level 5

Fear — Level 5

BlackHeart — Level 5

Poison — Level 4

Lies — Level 2

Nightingale — Level 1

Blanche smiled faintly as she lowered her gaze to her notebook.

She was in math class, officially busy following an endless proof written across the board. Officially only. In reality, her attention drifted between the equations, her classmates' conversations, and the translucent interface of her skills, which she had been discreetly reviewing for several minutes now.

The list was starting to become seriously long.

Almost alarming, even.

Some skills still felt logical to her: Flight, Drainage, Rest... Others, however, gave the impression that her brain had begun cataloguing every questionable aspect of her personality into a deeply mocking cosmic RPG.

And honestly...

The fact that Roberto's endless nonsense had been enough to level up her "Lies" skill to level two...

She briefly glanced toward the back of the classroom, where the culprit himself was speaking with theatrical seriousness entirely scandalous for someone capable of lying so naturally.

Roberto possessed that rare talent: saying absolute nonsense with such confidence that people almost wanted to believe him just to see how far he would go.

Apparently, her brain had taken notes.

Blanche suppressed a smile before returning to her skill screen.

The worst part was that she genuinely liked that ability.

Blanche really liked that one.

Every time someone lied to her, she received a notification, just like when she gained a skill.

At first, it had almost made her jump.

Then she had started having fun with it.

Because it was honestly fascinating to discover just how constantly humans lied for utterly ridiculous reasons.

"I studied."

Notification.

"I'll be there in five minutes."

Notification.

"Of course I'm fine."

Double implied emotional notification.

Her brain had basically become a slightly sarcastic walking lie detector.

And the funniest part was probably how she kept discovering truths without even trying. Notifications sometimes popped up in the middle of completely mundane conversations with almost aggressive efficiency.

She had notably learned that one teacher claimed to be grading papers while secretly watching a show on his phone.

And that Argy lied very badly whenever he tried to look innocent.

Which happened often.

But the most interesting part remained the second skill she had chosen.

And to complete the whole thing, she had picked "Nightingale," an ability that allowed her to lie for a short period of time without anyone detecting it.

Once again, the name felt deeply ironic.

As though the system had looked at her current life and calmly concluded: "Yes. You're clearly going to need professionally certified lies."

And honestly?

The system probably wasn't wrong.

Between the Otherworld, skills, quests, drakions, demons, and the fact that she now spent her nights surviving in a frozen dimension before returning to attend math classes, her entire existence already rested on a mountain of secrets.

Something told her she would definitely need it.

Especially with Derek watching her like a military instructor already suspecting fraud in her file.

Or Kiyan, who seemed to notice far too many things.

Or Eva, whose best-friend instincts were beginning to border dangerously on paranormal abilities.

Blanche sighed inwardly.

Then finally looked up at the board at the exact moment the teacher wrote a particularly horrific equation.

Honestly.

Fighting giant monsters in another world sometimes felt easier than surviving a normal morning of classes.

"Miss platinum blonde? She still hasn't understood she has no chance? The day my father becomes interested in a woman again, it'll snow in hell, " Eva declared.

Blanche hadn't been following the conversation, but the moment Kiyan was mentioned, her internal radar activated automatically.

It was involuntary. Pathetic, even.

She could be buried in an equation, a skill, an existential crisis, or a desperate attempt to stay awake in class... and her brain would still somehow instantly catch Kiyan's name through the surrounding noise.

Like an extremely poorly calibrated survival instinct.

Phénix purred on her lap.

The demon looked far too satisfied with the situation.

Curled against her, the small black form calmly enjoyed the warmth of her legs with the outrageous confidence of a being utterly convinced that all laws of the universe were optional for him.

Nobody had noticed the familiar sneaking into the classroom.

Which remained profoundly absurd.

Even in his reduced form, Phénix was still an exceptionally beautiful black cat with far-too-intelligent silver eyes and a dramatic tendency to stretch at exactly the wrong moments.

And yet...

Not the teacher.

Not the students.

Not even Eva, sitting right beside her.

Absolutely nobody seemed to notice the enormous supernatural problem currently purring on her lap.

Nor the little ball of fur whose color blended perfectly with the skirt she was wearing that day.

Phénix had chosen his camouflage with remarkable opportunism.

His black fur nearly vanished completely against the dark fabric of her skirt, sometimes revealing only the tip of an ear or the brief gleam of his eyes whenever he lifted his head.

Blanche discreetly lowered a hand to stroke his back.

The demon immediately let out a louder purr, perfectly indecent inside a silent classroom.

She tensed.

Nobody reacted.

Incredible.

Either the familiar was unconsciously using some form of magical concealment, or humans collectively possessed far less observational skill than she had assumed.

Probably both.

Oh, but it does snow in hell. More ash than snowflakes, admittedly... but it definitely snows.

She had been invited to lunch at noon with Sean and his best friend, and she had made a genuine effort with her outfit.

Which, coming from her, practically qualified as a cosmic event.

Blanche had hesitated in front of her wardrobe for a long time before choosing something simple... but elegant enough not to look as though she had dressed in the dark under medical supervision.

A soft-toned striped sweater hugged her silhouette with understated winter elegance very fitting for Epsilon, while a long flowing black skirt fell to her boots, swaying lightly with each step.

The whole outfit gave her an appearance that was both discreet and refined, perfectly suited to the biting cold of the season.