The next afternoon, Zevian sat across from Seraphina at a cafe near Auremont.
Compared to their previous dinner, today's meal was considerably simpler.
Zevian didn't mind.
Free food was free food.
Seraphina, however, had something else on her mind.
Elara Whitmore.
Not because she was jealous.
Absolutely not.
Elara was simply another variable that could interfere with the Love Box.
That was all.
"What class do you have after this?" Zevian suddenly asked.
Seraphina looked up.
"Corporate Finance."
Zevian paused while cutting his food.
"That's your major?"
Seraphina's fork stopped halfway to her mouth.
Slowly, she lowered it.
"You don't know my major?"
"No."
She stared at him.
"Zevian."
"Hm?"
"We've been spending time together for almost a week."
"I noticed."
"And you don't know what I'm studying?"
"You never told me."
Seraphina opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
Technically...
He was right.
She had simply assumed he knew.
Almost every man who approached Seraphina already knew her course, year level, family background, hobbies, and sometimes even things she didn't remember publicly sharing.
"Fine."
She crossed her arms.
"What year am I?"
Zevian studied her face.
"Second?"
"No."
"Fourth?"
Seraphina's eyes narrowed.
"Do I look that old?"
"I was covering the possibilities."
Her eyebrow twitched.
"Third year."
"Oh."
Silence.
Seraphina's expression became dangerous.
Zevian noticed.
"What?"
"That's it?"
"What do you want me to do? Congratulate you?"
She took a slow breath.
Zevian suddenly smiled.
"So you're my senior."
Seraphina immediately sensed trouble.
"Don't."
"Senior Sinclair."
"Zevian."
"Yes, Senior?"
"Stop."
He grinned.
She wanted to throw her drink at him.
Instead, Seraphina leaned forward.
"How much do you actually know about me?"
Zevian considered the question seriously.
"Your name is Seraphina Sinclair."
"Obviously."
"You're a third-year student."
"You learned that thirty seconds ago."
"Still counts."
"It doesn't."
"You're one of the Three Campus Goddesses."
Seraphina finally nodded.
"Continue."
"You're rich."
"Continue."
"You buy good food."
"..."
Zevian waited.
Seraphina stared at him.
"That's all?"
"Pretty much."
For perhaps the first time since she'd drawn his name, Seraphina was genuinely speechless.
"You don't know anything about the Sinclair family?"
"No."
"My reputation?"
"Cold?"
Her eyes narrowed.
"Arrogant?"
"Careful."
"Difficult?"
"Zevian."
He wisely returned to his food.
Seraphina couldn't understand it.
He hadn't even researched her.
Previous Love Box targets had often known an uncomfortable amount about their assigned girl before she ever approached them.
Zevian didn't even know her year level.
"I'm a Finance major," she said.
Zevian nodded.
"You're good?"
Seraphina almost laughed from disbelief.
"I'm near the top of my year."
"Oh."
"Stop saying 'oh'!"
Several customers glanced over.
Zevian raised both hands.
"Alright, Senior."
"That's worse."
He laughed.
Seraphina glared at him before suddenly asking, "Since you seem unimpressed, answer something."
She gave him a financial valuation problem she'd recently encountered in class.
It wasn't impossible, but certainly not something a second-year Economics student should solve casually.
Zevian stopped eating.
His Grandmaster Business Management knowledge immediately went to work.
"Your assumption is wrong."
Seraphina frowned.
"What?"
"The growth rate you're using isn't sustainable."
He picked up a napkin and borrowed her pen.
Within moments, numbers covered the surface.
"If you normalize the margin here, adjust the reinvestment requirement and account for the change in capital structure, you'll get a completely different valuation."
Seraphina's expression gradually changed.
Zevian pushed the napkin toward her.
"Something like that."
She stared at the calculations.
Then at him.
"You're a second-year Economics student."
"Last time I checked."
"Where did you learn this?"
"Read something."
"What did you read?"
Zevian thought about it.
"Something useful."
"..."
For once, Seraphina forgot about seducing him.
She picked up the napkin and studied his work again.
It was good.
Very good.
Perhaps better than hers.
"You're strange."
"I've heard that recently."
After lunch, they walked back toward campus.
Ding!
[Eligible Check-In Location detected.]
Zevian glanced toward the nearby arts building.
'Check in.'
[Check-In successful.]
[Reward obtained: Master-Level Calligraphy and Painting.]
Zevian remained silent.
The System waited.
He continued walking.
[...]
Zevian said nothing.
[Go ahead.]
'What?'
[Complain.]
'I didn't say anything.'
[I CAN FEEL HOST'S DISAPPOINTMENT.]
'Useful skill.'
[LIAR.]
Zevian suppressed a smile.
Seraphina noticed.
"What?"
"Nothing."
She looked suspicious but didn't pursue it.
Instead, Zevian asked, "How do you know Elara?"
Seraphina turned toward him.
"Now you're interested in people's lives?"
"She knows you."
"Elara and I aren't close."
"Oh."
Seraphina glared.
"Sorry."
She continued.
"The Whitmores and Sinclairs occasionally move in the same circles. Charity events, business functions, university donor gatherings. Things like that."
"So you're friends?"
"Acquaintances."
"Enemies?"
"No."
"Secret lovers?"
Seraphina nearly stumbled.
"What?!"
"Just covering the possibilities."
"Stop covering possibilities!"
Zevian laughed.
Seraphina looked at him from the corner of her eye.
"How did you become close to Elara?"
"We're classmates."
"That's it?"
"Mostly."
"Mostly?"
Zevian thought back to their first year.
At the time, he still had thick glasses, an ordinary appearance, and very little interest in Auremont's social hierarchy.
One afternoon, Elara had approached him while he was working on an assignment.
She couldn't solve one of the problems.
Zevian could.
So he helped.
The following day, she brought him something to eat as thanks.
Then she asked for help again.
Then they started occasionally eating together.
Eventually, it simply became normal.
"She kept bothering me," Zevian concluded.
Seraphina stared.
"That's your version of friendship?"
"Basically."
She shook her head.
Then a question escaped before she could reconsider it.
"Do you like her?"
"Yeah."
Seraphina stopped walking.
Something tightened inside her chest.
Zevian continued casually.
"She's a good friend."
The strange tension disappeared.
Seraphina relaxed.
Then froze.
Why had she relaxed?
Zevian noticed her expression.
"Why?"
"No reason."
"You asked."
"I was curious."
"Senior Sinclair."
"Stop calling me that."
They continued walking.
Seraphina became unusually quiet.
Later, she entered her classroom and sat down.
She should have been planning her next move.
Day Six.
Four days remained before the ten-day record.
Instead, she found herself staring at the napkin covered in Zevian's calculations.
She had spent days researching him.
His scholarship.
His classes.
His job.
His habits.
Even his friendship with Elara.
Meanwhile, Zevian hadn't bothered learning the most basic things about her.
For some reason, that annoyed her.
He didn't need to obsess over her.
Obviously.
But knowing her major wouldn't hurt.
Her phone vibrated.
[How's Day Six?]
One of the Love Box girls.
Seraphina typed:
[Annoying.]
[Still hasn't fallen?]
[No.]
A few seconds passed.
Then another message arrived.
[Have you?]
Seraphina stared at the screen.
Her expression turned cold.
She typed two words.
[f**k off.]
Across the room, one of her classmates glanced over when Seraphina suddenly slammed her phone face-down on the desk.
She wasn't jealous.
She wasn't falling for anyone.
And she certainly wasn't bothered that Zevian Rook knew more about the restaurant's steak than he knew about her.
Definitely not.