The girl's silver hair shimmered in the sunlight, her figure gradually swallowed by shadows as she walked away.
Russell watched Mary's retreating back, feeling a flash of confusion.
Aside from the whole isolation thing, he didn't want to go to the party anyway.
This ice breaker was nothing like those from his old university—it was utilitarian to the core, and he had no interest in manufactured warmth or phony unity.
Besides, if he went to the party, he'd probably earn a healthy stack of Malice Points. But honestly, there were easier (and less distasteful) ways to accumulate malice.
To sum it up in five words: Yes, but it's not necessary.
"Forget it. I won't think about it anymore." Russell shook his head, put his book back, and left the library.
Now to think about the next target for Moriarty.
Should I stick to my old methods and hit the Morstan Estate again? No, that woman's a bit scary. What if she really is a Saint Seiya knight or something?
You can't use the same trick three times.
So… Lestrade? Nah. He's busy these days. Gotta find someone new.
Who should be the unlucky one next…?
As Russell pondered, a group of people approached him.
"Wait a minute, Mr. Watson," called a blond man at the front, stopping Russell as he tried to walk past.
Russell paused and looked back. Who is this guy now? That laugh was awfully sleazy.
"Sorry… do I know you?" he asked, a bit hesitantly.
At that, the man's smile froze for an instant.
"You're joking, right?" He sounded offended. "We're classmates."
"But it's only our second day. I'm not required to recognize everyone in the class," Russell replied nonchalantly.
[Timmy Roy is offended by your words. +10 Malice.]
Timmy Roy?
Ah, this must be the fellow who first rewarded me with Malice Points yesterday.
"My name's Timmy Roy." Timmy took a deep breath, trying to suppress his irritation. "My father is a cabinet minister."
"And…?" Russell tilted his head. If your father really sits in the Cabinet, that's impressive—almost as good as having a dragon for an ancestor.
Damn, why's a minister's kid acting all high and mighty here? Charlotte's brother is the British government!
Timmy's lips twitched.
He'd hoped mentioning his minister father would intimidate this country bumpkin, but the ignorant yokel just didn't get it.
I've obviously overestimated him, thought Timmy. What exactly does Miss Morstan see in this guy?
[Timmy Roy now utterly despises you. +10 Malice.]
"Hmmph." Timmy snorted, ignoring Russell's look of confusion. Instead, he pulled out a beautifully wrapped invitation from his pocket.
"Here. Take this," he said, reverting to a servile tone.
"What's this…" Russell took the invitation, turning it over in his hands.
"It's an invite to Saturday's ice-breaker party." Timmy beamed, continuing before Russell could reply. "Don't get the wrong idea. This isn't for you. I just heard you're Holmes's neighbor—can you give this to her for me?"
"After all, she's in our class. It wouldn't do for her to miss out."
Russell weighed the invitation in his hand, a puzzled look on his face.
"Really? But I don't think Holmes is the social type…"
"Be that as it may." Timmy struggled to keep up his gentleman act, but traces of jealousy and contempt flashed in his eyes. "As a new student here, experiencing campus life is her duty. Plus, many of London's elite youth have been invited. I'm sure Mycroft Holmes doesn't want his sister absent from society."
"I see," said Russell, nodding thoughtfully, and tucked the invitation away.
Seeing Russell acting so reasonable, Timmy's smile finally thawed a bit.
"Well then, Mr. Watson. I trust you'll gladly do me this little favor."
"I'll do my best." Russell spoke lightly and turned to leave.
But Timmy called out yet again.
"Mr. Watson," he said, this time patronizing, with a hint of menace. "Attendance isn't mandatory. If you can't make it, that's fine."
A perfectly simple statement. Smart people know how to stay out of trouble.
"Of course. I'll let Holmes know," Russell nodded with a polite smile, pretending not to get the hint, and left without looking back.
Timmy Roy stood there, watching Russell's back. The manufactured gentlemanly smile faded away, replaced by a grim expression.
"Country bumpkin who doesn't know his place."
[Timmy Roy's Malice +10.]
···
Afternoon.
Sunlight streamed through the window, shining on the last row of the lecture hall. Russell sat by the rear door, yawning in boredom.
At the moment he was holding his phone, dreaming of getting a golden shovel that would make his fortune overnight… Alas, impossible.
As class time neared, the once-empty lecture hall filled with people. Most entered through the front, but some walked all the way from the back entrance to the front, seemingly just to take a look at Russell.
Pity, curiosity, and even schadenfreude filled their eyes. As if Russell was the only person in the world unaware of this "secret."
Russell almost regretted becoming the focus of so much attention. If only there was a way to earn Malice Points for it!
He could do nothing all day but lie in the corner and listen to idle chatter—and that alone would be highly profitable.
A couple of kind students tried to talk to him, but the pressure of others' eyes made them back down wordlessly.
Russell was just about to shut the back door when a thin figure blocked the way.
Sunlight from behind outlined her long silver hair in a soft halo.
Mary Morstan entered, carrying a stack of books and wearing the flawless, unruffled smile she always had.
"Mr. Watson, are you trying to turn me away?"
….