Chapter 163: Where Did the Money Come From?

Chapter 163: Chapter 163: Where Did the Money Come From?

Chapter 163: Where Did the Money Come From?

"So I guess I still worry about students around this age sometimes. Fortunately, the students at our school seem to have pretty good judgment."

"Yes, I suppose they do."

Vera Sable watched the thoughtful look settle over Daphne Whitlock’s face, and the corner of her mouth lifted for the briefest moment.

The smile disappeared before Daphne noticed it.

To anyone sitting nearby, the conversation would have sounded completely ordinary. Two members of St. Alder’s staff were simply discussing the difficulties young people could encounter while growing up.

Nothing more suspicious than that.

Once lunch ended, the two women returned to their respective jobs.

Daphne sat at her desk in the faculty office with a lesson plan open in front of her.

Her pen continued moving across the page.

Her thoughts did not follow it.

Could Cyrus really afford everything she had noticed lately from nothing more than a part-time bartending job?

He was supporting himself alone.

His normal expenses already included food, transportation, school necessities, rent, and whatever strange medication he regularly took.

Yet he had recently acquired a phone expensive enough to look excessive even for a student from a comfortable family.

Daphne still remembered confiscating Cyrus’s old phone once.

That device had looked ancient.

Slow, worn, and obviously something he had kept because replacing it would cost money.

Now he carried a flagship phone without seeming concerned about the price.

There were still too many things she did not know.

Daphne’s irritation grew.

If Cyrus was going to keep a diary specifically because he feared losing his memories, couldn’t he at least write the important parts more clearly?

Then again, judging from the calculations she had already discovered in that diary, a large portion of the missing information probably involved the women he was quietly manipulating.

The thought did nothing to improve her mood.

At the same time, several floors above, Cyrus Calder was sitting with Audra Sloane in their usual empty classroom.

The fourth-floor room remained quiet except for Audra’s voice.

She was explaining another problem to him, and for once, the coolness normally present in her tone seemed softened by an almost cheerful lift.

Cyrus followed the solution closely.

Audra finished the final step and pointed toward the answer.

"That is why moving this term earlier makes the rest easier. If you wait until the final step, you end up doing unnecessary work."

Cyrus looked over the page once more.

"I understand it now. Thank you."

His attention naturally lifted toward Audra’s face.

Her expression was still restrained by ordinary standards, but the slight curve at the corners of her eyes was noticeable.

Cyrus studied her for another second.

"You seem to be in a pretty good mood today."

Audra froze briefly.

She had not expected him to notice.

The happiness she had been keeping mostly to herself suddenly became warmer simply because Cyrus had recognized it.

"Is it really that obvious?"

"Not particularly obvious. I just had that impression."

Cyrus sounded uncertain.

Audra heard something completely different.

He had noticed her mood.

That meant he had been paying attention to her.

Her smile became slightly more visible.

"My grandfather called me last night. He should be coming back soon, so I am happy about that."

"I understand now."

Audra hesitated, then added, "My grandfather is a remarkable person. If I started telling you everything he has done, I could probably spend the entire afternoon talking."

Cyrus nodded thoughtfully.

"If you admire him that much, he must be impressive."

The pleasure in Audra’s eyes deepened.

There it was again.

He was interested in her family.

He cared about things that made her happy.

Surely that meant something.

Audra had already convinced herself that Cyrus’s continued willingness to meet privately, even after the rumors at school, showed that his feelings were slowly changing.

Now he was noticing her emotions without being prompted.

Maybe she had been right all along.

Perhaps Cyrus liked her too.

The only question was how much longer he intended to take before admitting it.

Would she eventually have to move things forward herself?

Audra considered the possibility.

If she was going to confess first, she should at least choose a good day.

Something memorable.

Maybe after her grandfather returned.

Maybe somewhere quieter than an empty classroom.

She gradually disappeared into her own thoughts while still holding the book in front of her.

Cyrus did not notice.

He had already returned his attention to the problem they had just solved.

Their private time usually worked like this.

Sometimes they talked.

Sometimes they studied in silence.

Neither seemed bothered when there was nothing to say.

A short while later, the warning bell sounded.

Cyrus and Audra gathered their things and returned to senior advisory three together.

Several classmates noticed them enter side by side.

A few looked openly envious.

Others reacted with a different kind of frustration.

How long were those two going to continue acting like nothing was happening before the rumors finally became true?

The rest of Friday passed quickly.

When the final bell rang, their teacher immediately called the class president and Owen Keats over to help with something.

Faye Larkin left almost the moment class ended.

Cyrus stayed behind.

He had time before work, so he pulled out the comic Faye had lent him and opened to where he had stopped earlier.

He had only read a few pages when two girls carrying their bags approached his desk.

One noticed the comic first.

"You read that series too?"

Cyrus looked up.

The girl’s expression brightened.

"I love that one. I have been reading it for ages."

Her friend immediately joined in.

"I have the complete set at home."

Both girls became noticeably more enthusiastic once Cyrus gave them his attention.

The first girl smiled.

"If you like it that much, you could come over sometime and read the rest at my place. My house is pretty big, so nobody would bother us."

Cyrus’s expression remained polite but distant.

"Thank you, but I will pass."

The invitation ended there.

Neither girl pushed after hearing the refusal.

They exchanged disappointed looks, said goodbye, and left the classroom.

Another girl who had been quietly watching the back corner waited until she confirmed nothing had happened, then gathered her own things and left as well.

Cyrus lowered his eyes toward the comic.

A large house filled with manga.

That description reminded him of Faye’s home.

Her family had an entire bookshelf packed with volumes.

Cyrus found that much more appealing than visiting a stranger who had only started speaking to him after his haircut.

Most of the classroom emptied quickly.

He had barely returned to the story when another voice came from nearby.

"You always stay pretty late after school, don’t you?"

Cyrus looked over.

Owen had returned after helping the teacher and was collecting the rest of his belongings.

"I have work later."

Owen nodded.

"That makes sense."

He zipped his bag, then glanced at Cyrus again.

"Sometimes you seriously remind me of an old man."

Cyrus raised an eyebrow.

"What makes you say that?"

Owen stood behind Cyrus’s desk and looked out the classroom windows.

Small groups of students were leaving campus together, talking and laughing as they headed toward whatever plans they had for Friday afternoon.

"We are still teenagers. This is supposed to be the age when having fun matters most."

Owen gestured vaguely toward Cyrus.

"But you are always working, studying, or sitting somewhere looking half asleep."

Cyrus considered the criticism.

"If I stop working, I stop eating."

Owen’s expression immediately changed.

"That is a pretty strong argument."

Cyrus gave him a quiet look.

Owen sighed.

His attention shifted toward the hallway, where Iris Wexley had appeared after also being delayed by something after class.

He waved to Cyrus.

"If you ever have a free afternoon after school, tell me. I will take you somewhere we can play games properly."

"I will remember that."

Cyrus nodded.

Owen headed toward Iris.

As he approached her, Cyrus happened to meet Iris’s eyes.

This time, there was very little hostility in her expression.

That alone was an improvement.

Work at The Full Moon Lounge followed its usual rhythm that evening.

Soft music.

Quiet conversations.

Orders appearing and disappearing.

The repetition could become boring when Cyrus thought about it too much.

Then he remembered he was being paid.

Once money entered the equation, even repetitive work acquired a much warmer color.

Cyrus completed the shift without complaint.

Helena Baird had remained at the lounge for most of the evening.

When Cyrus was about to enter the changing room, she stopped him.

"There is another outfit in the locker beside yours. Try it on before you leave."

Cyrus nodded.

"I can do that."

He entered the changing room and opened the indicated locker.

A complete set of clothing had been prepared inside.

Cyrus frowned slightly.

Was Malcolm changing the lounge uniform?

Or was this connected to tomorrow’s Halloween event?

He did not know enough about Halloween traditions to guess from the outfit itself.

Cyrus changed anyway.

The clothing fit immediately.

He had barely finished when Helena’s voice came from outside.

"Are you dressed?"

"I am still adjusting it."

Cyrus answered honestly.

A moment later, Helena entered.

Cyrus glanced toward her but did not object.

She had technically asked before coming in.

Helena’s attention settled completely on him.

The white suit looked even better than she had imagined.

It was tailored closely enough to appear elegant without being overly formal, and the lighter styling kept it relaxed rather than ceremonial.

Helena’s quiet appreciation deepened.

Cyrus looked down at himself.

Nothing about the outfit seemed especially appropriate for Halloween.

He still had no idea what the plan was.

Helena stepped closer.

"How does it feel? Is there anything you want adjusted?"

Cyrus moved his shoulders and tested his range of motion.

"It fits well. Nothing feels restrictive."

The suit was comfortable.

Then Cyrus remembered the temperature inside the lounge.

"If I am supposed to wear this while working, though, the jacket might get too warm after a while."

Helena considered that.

"Then you can leave the jacket off tomorrow."

Cyrus looked at her.

"So this is for the Halloween event?"

"Yes, although there are still a few small accessories."

Cyrus nodded.

Apparently he would find out tomorrow what the complete outfit was supposed to look like.

Helena’s satisfaction was nearly visible now.

Cyrus noticed it and once again failed to understand what exactly she found so fascinating about watching him wear clothes.

He changed back into his school clothes.

Before he left, Helena reminded him to come in Saturday afternoon.

By around ten that night, Cyrus was walking home beneath a dark sky scattered with stars.

He ate the meat bun he had picked up after work.

The flavor seemed strangely ordinary.

A few months ago, he would have considered it delicious.

Now, after eating better food more regularly, something he had once enjoyed almost every day had become boring.

Apparently people really did change.

Cyrus reflected on that while continuing to eat at exactly the same speed.

By the time he finished, his apartment building was already visible farther down the street.

Then someone emerged from a nearby intersection.

Cyrus recognized Daphne immediately.

She was still dressed in her work clothes, looking as though she had only recently left St. Alder.

Only then did Cyrus realize she had not driven today.

Daphne noticed him too.

"You just finished work?"

"Yes, I did. Were you working this late too?"

"I had evening duty today."

Daphne sighed.

Fatigue showed clearly in her voice.

Then she took a deeper breath and seemed to gather herself.

Her expression softened.

"Is there anything you want to eat tonight? I still have plenty of ingredients in the refrigerator."

Cyrus looked at her.

Daphne sounded so willing to take care of him that he instinctively shifted his eyes away.

Her sincerity had become strangely difficult to deal with lately.

At the same time, that sincerity made her value as a safeguard increasingly reassuring.

Apparently his methods really did work.

A quiet trace of satisfaction appeared in Cyrus’s thoughts, though none reached his voice.

After a moment, he said, "Why don’t we order delivery together tonight?"

Daphne looked genuinely surprised.

"Did you stop liking my cooking?"

Cyrus shook his head.

"Your food is very good. You also look exhausted, so I think resting would be better than cooking again."

Daphne lowered her eyes.

His concern caught her off guard.

For several seconds, she seemed to be searching for the right response.

Then another part of his sentence registered.

"You said we should order together?"

Cyrus looked at her.

"Are you not hungry?"

Daphne nodded automatically.

Then she immediately shook her head, realized that was equally confusing, and finally gave up.

"We can eat together later."

"That works for me. I will see you shortly."

They returned to their neighboring apartments.

Once Cyrus closed his door, his expression became complicated.

Daphne was acting so careful and considerate lately that he had begun feeling mildly guilty about manipulating her at all.

It was becoming difficult to casually make use of someone who seemed genuinely worried about him.

In some ways, Daphne had been easier to manage when her intentions were more obvious.

Cyrus sighed and took a shower while waiting for the delivery.

In the apartment next door, Daphne was doing the same.

Steam filled her bathroom while water ran down her skin.

She stood beneath the shower thinking.

How long was she supposed to continue acting like this around Cyrus?

She already knew he needed something from her.

The diary had made that obvious.

She simply did not know exactly what role he wanted her to play.

Maybe she should continue cooperating until he became completely comfortable.

Then, once his guard was sufficiently low, she could deliberately lose her patience and see how he reacted.

Daphne sighed.

The problem was that she had no idea whether "a little while longer" meant days, weeks, or months.

If possible, she still wanted to get closer to the vulnerable side Cyrus kept hiding.

By the time Daphne finished drying her hair, someone knocked on her apartment door.

She put on a robe, added another layer over it, and opened the door.

Cyrus stood outside holding the food delivery.

He lifted the bags slightly.

"The food arrived."

Daphne stepped aside.

"Bring it inside."

Cyrus entered and placed the containers on the table.

Most of what he ordered was fried comfort food.

Daphne recognized some of it immediately.

A memory returned of the time Cyrus had been in his smaller form and persuaded her to order something similar.

Cyrus did not seem to attach any special meaning to it.

He sat down and started eating.

Coming into Daphne’s apartment tonight also served another purpose.

He wanted to test something.

If Daphne continued behaving normally even while he willingly entered her apartment at night, then the safeguard plan became more reliable.

Cyrus still had his personal alarm in his pocket.

If Daphne did nothing, the evening would remain peaceful.

If she crossed the line again, Cyrus would remove her from the list.

Simple enough.

They nearly finished the meal without incident.

Exactly as Cyrus expected.

A faint satisfaction appeared inside him.

His judgment was excellent.

When his future safety was involved, an occasional test was reasonable.

Daphne set down her food.

She had been considering how to raise the subject without sounding accusatory.

Eventually, she asked, "Is your job going well lately?"

Cyrus looked up.

"Yes, it is going well."

"You have not encountered any problems?"

"No serious problems."

Daphne nodded.

"That is good."

She hesitated.

"I only asked because you seem much more comfortable financially lately."

Cyrus became attentive.

"As your teacher, I was a little worried you might be doing something outside work that you should not be doing for money."

She did not need to finish the sentence.

Cyrus understood perfectly.

Daphne had, unfortunately, worried about exactly the right thing.

There had indeed been a few unusual paid arrangements.

Those were isolated incidents.

Cyrus had already decided something firmly.

That kind of situation was never happening again.