Receiving a room full of sympathetic gazes from the students, Anita rolled her eyes. While most students remained silent and left Anita alone, they empathized with her regarding the professor singling her out.

“Nucleotides, or the sequence of bases…”

Finally realizing that the question the professor was asking was about the material she had studied a few days ago, Anita calmly continued with her explanation. After she finished, the professor, with a stern expression that seemed to caution her about her mother’s reputation, gestured for Anita to sit down.

***

Everyone else is enjoying college life to the fullest.

Anita felt pathetic for deciding to work in a café just to avoid a single guy.

‘Libera Bookstore & Café.’

The somewhat lackluster sign hanging at the entrance concealed a surprisingly well-maintained interior.

On the left side of the store, there was a counter and a cooking area, and shelves filled the opposite wall. In the center, neat wooden tables and comfy chairs were set up.

It was a cozy place, with the smell of strong coffee and old books mingling together.

“This is an apron. These booklets here are some sort of cookbook with recipes for drinks….”

Deciding to put in effort since she had started, Anita listened attentively to the owner’s explanation, recalling her father’s advice that it’s good to start social activities early.

After all, she had nothing to do after her regular classes.

As expected, the café work wasn’t too challenging. Taking orders and making drinks when customers arrived, straightening the scattered books on the tables; that was the entirety of the job.

Anita’s father, Neitan Rodel, believed strongly in the notion of earning one’s own money from a young age. He, overly fixated on self-sufficiency, told his daughter Anita,

‘No matter how trivial it may seem, every task holds value in some way.’

Of course, Anita wasn’t particularly concerned about how much she’d be paid when she first started at the café. Whether it was 10 riel or 500, Anita didn’t care.

It had been bright when she first arrived at the store, and now it was pitch black. As she walked home from work by the light of the street lamps, Anita sighed heavily. There seemed to be nothing going on lately. Was it due to her mood?

“Where are you going?”

Startled by the sudden voice in the darkness, Anita jumped.

“We’re not weirdos.”

“Idiots. Those who talk like that are the most unreliable.”

The grumbling voice and the voice ridiculing the other sounded familiar. Anita squinted her eyes, peering into the dark alley. Two figures staggered out from the darkness. One, slightly smaller, seemed to be supporting the taller one. When they finally emerged under the streetlight, Anita recognized their identity.

“Seniors?”

The person being supported by the other, dragging his long legs on the ground, was none other than the Student Council President, Edmund, and the woman supporting him was the Vice-President, Lice Neuheim.

What were they doing here at this hour?

“Sorry, can you hold onto his arm on the other side? He’s so drunk from just one drink, it’s ridiculous.”

“Oh, sure.”

Seeing Edmund’s arm flailing in the air, Anita hurried over and placed his arm over her shoulder. Lice and Anita supported Edmund, making it difficult for them to say anything for a while.

Strangely, Edmund didn’t seem to smell strongly of alcohol. Why couldn’t he control his body properly?

“He can’t hold his liquor in one drink. Strange, right? He’s my research subject.”

The words ‘research subject’ caused Edmund’s body to twitch inexplicably. He mumbled something indistinctly.

“Speak properly.”

“She always wants to put me on the operating table, Last time, do you know what she said? To take out my brain-But who are you?”

Edmund, who had been conversing as if they’d known each other for ten years, suddenly asked, sharply gazing at Anita with his cloudy, grey eyes. Despite relying on Anita’s support for at least 30 minutes, he now seemed guarded against her.

“Anita Rodel.”

“Oh, right. That stalker… Wait, your name is Anita Rodel? The Rodel?”

“Yes, probably.”

Edmund’s eyes lit up.

“Oh, why didn’t you say that earlier? You’re Dr. Miranda Rodel’s daughter?”

“…….”

“Jeez! I’ve always wanted to be an adopted of someone like Dr. Rodel, not some old man who only cares about money.”

“…What?”

His speech, previously somewhat garbled, was surprisingly clear now. His language was standard, but Anita couldn’t quite make out what Edmund was talking about.

“Do you want to be my brother?”

Avoiding Edmund’s excited speech and moving her body away, Anita and Lice made eye contact.

Lice remained silent with a smirk.

‘Ignore him.’

But Edmund seemed not willing to be ignored.

“Lice, what was his name again…?”

Anita had never had a drink before, but if alcohol could make her forget her own name, she never wanted to drink in her life.

“Edmund. Fascium.”

Lice wrinkled her face while speaking his name in fragmented syllables, seeming not to remember it well.