Villain's Path System-Chapter 50: Why Am I So Pissed

The library was quiet.

Lucian sat at a corner table on the second floor, a book on advanced spell theory open in front of him. Morning lectures had started twenty minutes ago, but he was here instead.

He’d been waiting.

The main door opened. Footsteps on the stairs. Light. Measured.

Silver-white hair appeared at the top of the staircase.

Elira Frostveil scanned the library, her ice-blue eyes finding him almost immediately. She smiled—slight, knowing—and walked directly to his table.

"Lucian." She stopped beside his chair. "Skipping lectures?"

"Could ask you the same thing." He gestured to the empty seat across from him. "Sit."

She did, settling in with that elegant ease. For a moment, neither of them spoke, letting the silence stretch.

Then Elira’s gaze dropped to the heavy book in front of him.

"Advanced Spell Theory." Her lips curved slightly. "Ambitious reading for someone at First Stage."

Lucian turned a page and gave her a slight smile.

"Gotta start from somewhere."

Their conversation flowed easily after that — quiet, measured, and strangely comfortable.

Behind a thick oak bookshelf just a few rows away, Seraphina stood perfectly still. Her fingers dug ruthlessly into the leather spines of the books on the rack.

She had followed Lucian here this morning. Not intentionally, of course. She just... happened to be heading to the library at the exact same time. Taking the exact same route. Keeping exactly thirty paces behind him.

Pure coincidence. Obviously.

Because they didn’t have a reason to be together anymore. The investigation was over. Marcus was dealt with. Elena was safe. Their temporary, strictly-professional partnership was officially concluded.

There was absolutely no excuse for her to be trailing after him like some kind of lost—

Why am I here?

Her eyes narrowed into dangerous slits as she peered through the narrow gap between two heavy volumes. Her gaze locked onto the silver-haired girl sitting across from Lucian.

A sharp, irritated twitch pulled at the corner of Seraphina’s eye.

Why is she sitting with him? Why is she leaning in so close? And what’s with that annoying smile?

Her grip on the rack tightened.

He didn’t even look that relaxed when he was talking to me, she thought, her jaw clenching slightly. Not that I care. I don’t care at all. If he wants to waste his time talking to a snake like Elira, that’s his problem.

But then she watched Elira lean just a fraction closer over the table toward Lucian. Seraphina caught that infuriating, private little smile playing on the ’ice princess’s’ perfect face,

Her narrowed eyes tightened even further, a visible, aggressive twitch forming at the corner of her right eye.

This is ridiculous. I should just leave. There is absolutely no reason for me to be hiding behind a bookshelf like some creepy stalker.

But her feet stubbornly refused to move.

Somehow, she finally forced herself to turn away, her boots completely silent on the floorboards.

The investigation is done. That’s right. We aren’t partners anymore. I don’t need to guard his back, and I definitely don’t need to care who he talks to.

She took one step toward the exit. Then, she heard it.

Over at the table, Elira laughed at something Lucian said...

Her boots stopped dead on the floorboards.

She whipped back around, her eyes instantly hardening into a vicious glare through the gap in the books.

That smug frost-witch, she snarled internally, glaring holes into Elira’s perfect, absolutely punchable face.

What the hell is she even laughing at? Does that ice-witch have absolutely zero concept of personal space? She’s practically leaning right into his face in the middle of a damn library!

Her glare shifted to Lucian.

And this Shithead moron! He’s just sitting there with that stupid, blank face while that snake shamelessly invades his personal space. I should just march over there and smash his head straight into that table.

She let out a sharp, disdainful scoff, forcibly tearing her gaze away from the table and crossing her arms tight against her chest.

If he wants to act like a brainless idiot and get played by that frost-witch, fine. Let him. It has nothing to do with me anymore.

But out of the corner of her eye, movement caught her attention. Her head snapped back toward the gap, her hands violently slamming back onto the leather books on the rack. At the table, Elira suddenly stood up and smoothly glided around to take the empty seat directly next to Lucian. Leaning intimately over the heavy tome, her slender fingers deliberately brushed against his hand as she pointed to a passage.

Seraphina’s upper lip curled into a furious snarl.

Th-That is WAY too close! WHY the hell is her hand on his?! Every logical excuse she had prepared crumbled into dust. There was no strategy left—just a raw, blinding surge of furious heat. It’s just a stupid touch! It means absolutely nothing! I don’t give a single damn!

The books she was clutching on the rack hissed loudly. Smoke rose between her tense fingers.

Why the hell am I so pissed?! she screamed internally gritting her teeth, completely losing control of her mana.

I don’t care! I shouldn’t care! > So why do I want to burn this place down?

She cut the thought off violently, her jaw tightening so hard she thought her teeth might crack.

Just stop looking at them! Stop watching! she ordered herself, letting out a harsh, frustrated internal groan. Ugh, this is so damn stupid! Just turn around and walk away!

But even as she forced her eyes shut, the feeling didn’t fade.

It burned hotter.

Her back pressed against the bookshelf. Eyes squeezed shut.

Get it together. You’re being pathetic.

When she finally forced her eyes open, Elira was still right there. Still too close. Still smiling that infuriating smile.

All that logical crap about the investigation and their ’professional partnership’ instantly evaporated from her mind. None of it mattered.

What mattered was—

Her jaw clenched.

No. Don’t think it. Don’t—

But the truth burned anyway.

She stood there, her hands smoking against the leather bindings, fighting a sudden, undeniable urge to march over there and flip that entire heavy oak table straight into the air.