Four Split Personalities

Game Time AM08:03

Academy City, Central District, Danu Military Academy, Main Building, 6F, Classroom

"I’m sorry!"

Accompanied by a light exclamation, Theresa Tarosa, out of breath from a recent ’sprint,’ burst in, kneeling on the floor with a face full of ash, apologizing to the two people waiting inside the room: "Senior Foster, Senior Lian, I am late!"

The two exchanged a look of resignation, not commenting on Theresa’s entry like a flying pounce two seconds ago. After all, they had known each other for four years, so there was no need to make a big fuss over such a ’daily occurrence.’

"Only three minutes late. It’s no big deal."

Standing by the window, Lian stepped forward to help the young girl up, brushing the dust off her skirt while smiling and asking, "Did you see the Black Vatican Priest?"

Theresa shivered slightly but didn’t ask why Lian guessed her reason for being late. Thinking back, the reason for coming at this time was indeed unusual. Moreover, she changed her hairstyle to avoid being recognized by those ’acquaintances.’ It was nothing that needed guessing.

At least for the two familiar with the ins and outs of the matter inside the classroom, it was quite obvious.

"The quality of that bottle of Compound Water Agent is quite good. The effect lasts about eight hours, enough for you to use my identity to finish the top thirty-two to sixteen matches."

Unusually dressed in casual clothes, Foster Ward, sitting behind the podium, didn’t look at Theresa. As he casually flipped through the documents from the Law Enforcement Force, he calmly said, "As per our previous agreement, Theresa, I will arrange for you to be grouped with the Black Vatican Priest, and you must naturally lose to him in the competition. That’s my only request."

Theresa nodded nervously, loudly saying, "Okay, Senior!"

"You don’t need to control the process, worry about public opinion, or be concerned about troubling me. As long as your loss isn’t too abrupt, you can ignore all other details."

Foster stood up, placing the documents aside, and walked slowly to Theresa, smiling gently, "Of course, if you conclude during the competition that ’the Black Vatican Priest isn’t stronger than Foster,’ then I will allow you to win."

Theresa didn’t respond, simply shaking her head dismissively. This seemingly hurtful reaction didn’t disturb Foster since, for him, the so-called ’command skills’ had no importance besides a smooth graduation—they weren’t part of his life plan.

And that Black Vatican Priest, having gained recognition from both Ramollok and Theresa, being stronger than himself was perfectly normal.

"Before the potion’s effect fades, Lian will be by your side. Considering the time we usually spend together, this won’t draw attention. Well, that’s all for now."

After saying this, Foster turned to Lian with a slight nod, his expression somewhat serious, "Let’s get started."

"Hehe, there’s no need to be so serious."

Lian covered her mouth, chuckling lightly, then passed by Foster, entwining her arm with Theresa’s, smiling as she asked, "You’ve already taken the first sip, right?"

"Mm, mm, I took it after I woke up."

Theresa nodded adorably.

"Lian..."

Foster pushed up his glasses with mild exasperation, urging, "Hurry up, will you?"

Lian glanced at the somewhat anxious Foster, curiously asking, "Hurry up with what?"

"The hair."

Foster took a deep breath, frowning, "You need to use my hair as a medium, you know, and it has to be recently plucked within half an hour?"

"Got it already~"

Lian smiled, waving her hand at the guy inexplicably worried about his hair volume, showing the strand of silver hair pinched between her fingers, laughing, "You’re especially adorable only in moments like these."

Foster pinched his temples, muttering, "My grandfather went bald at a young age, I worry this might be hereditary..."

"And your father’s hair volume?"

"There’s a chance of skipping a generation."

Foster cautiously slicked back his hair, then stood up and walked toward the door, not looking back, "You guys keep up the pace, ten minutes should suffice, right?"

Seemingly familiar with such potions, Lian chuckled, "That’s plenty."

Meanwhile, Theresa, trembling as she took out the potion bottle, was visibly nervous, unable to utter a word.

...

Ten minutes later,

Foster knocked lightly at the door, time well-calculated. Hearing Lian’s gentle ’come in,’ he exhaled softly and re-entered the classroom.

Sure enough, the petite, delicate girl was no longer there, replaced by a tall, handsome Dark Elf man with slicked-back hair, frameless glasses, wearing the academy uniform. Aside from seeming not very calm, he was an exact replica of Foster Ward.

Standing half a meter behind ’Foster,’ Lian smiled indulgently, looking at him with an affectionate gaze.

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