Chapter 104

Chapter 104

Time, like an arrow released from its bowstring, flew by in a flash; a year and a half had passed in the blink of an eye.

"Screech—"

With a teeth-grating screech of tires, a light golden luxury hovercar pulled up in front of the Medici family mansion. The vehicle's front bore an exquisite emblem: a broad-bladed sword plunged into a golden rose bush, its lines intricate and meticulously crafted.

This was the royal emblem.

An attendant deftly opened the car door. A pair of polished, round-toed black leather shoes lightly touched the ground, faint, stubborn traces of dark red blood still visible in their seams. Above them, a well-tailored suit hugged her figure, leading up to a slender, elegant neck and a handsome face that habitually wore a smile.

The young woman's skin was fair and delicate, her long, silvery-white hair tied into a neat ponytail at the back. She seemed to have just been active, as loose strands of hair fell casually at her temples before she idly tucked them back.

"Thank you for your hard work," she said, bending slightly to greet the princess's chauffeur in the front seat with a smile. "Drive safely on your way back."

Anyone seeing such a polite and amiable girl would assume she was a young lady of superior birth and excellent manners. But the driver, who knew her true nature, merely twitched the corner of his eye.

No one knew exactly where the Fourth Princess had found this troublesome individual. When Eve first took up her post, no one in the capital's high society had any faith in her. They believed she and the Fourth Princess were merely two illegitimate children huddling together for warmth. Though they would offer a smile when encountering Eve, out of respect for the princess and the Medici family, behind her back everyone ridiculed the Fourth Princess for her poor judgment, appointing a girl even younger than herself to manage the turbulent political landscape of the capital's crucial rear.

But as it turned out, Eve's ability to prove people wrong was just as impressive as her employer's.

Placing spies in the residences of political rivals was a common practice. Even the four great families couldn't guarantee that, despite layers of scrutiny from alchemical potions and detailed personnel information systems, their households were completely free of spies planted by other factions.

But the princess's estate was an anomaly. From its establishment to the present day, it remained impenetrable, a fortress no one had successfully infiltrated with their own spies.

At the princess's estate, all personnel matters were handled personally by Eve. No one knew how she had developed such an uncanny discernment. The young steward would sit in the main hall, holding a cup of tea, legs crossed, smiling as her gem-like blue eyes scanned everyone. After a mere glance, she could accurately pinpoint who was a regularly hired servant and who was a planted spy.

What was most extraordinary was that while Eve fiercely defended the interests of the princess's estate, she never resorted to killing. Her principle was that every wrong had its perpetrator, and she always successfully extracted the mastermind behind these well-trained spies, then created some "minor" troubles for their employers' families.

After a few rounds of "accidental fires," "accidental thefts," and "accidental injuries" in the capital, no one bothered anymore to plant spies in the princess's estate. As these incidents accumulated, people finally realized that troubles always seemed to follow any provocation of the princess's estate.

As the provocations ceased, the name "Eve Medici" began to formally establish itself in the capital's high society.

Amidst the clinking of glasses at banquets, in the whispers behind curtains, or even in casual conversations among high-ranking nobles, the most common scene was when someone inadvertently mentioned that familiar name, and everyone's faces would instantly turn ashen—in a way, Eve had certainly succeeded in her role as steward.

However, she herself didn't pay much attention to this. She even showed up to work at the princess's estate reluctantly, dragging herself there only once every three or four days after much urging. If it weren't for the considerable salary that Qin Mengde paid her—so much that it almost felt uncomfortable to hold—she would probably have stretched it to once a week.

Carefully selecting advisors and servants was also a way to share her workload. Since the princess's estate covered all expenses, Eve's most frequent activity was sitting in her ultra-luxurious steward's office, behind one-way glass, slouching in her executive chair, comfortably monitoring her subordinates as they worked.

Now that's what you call a comfortable supervisor!

"Lady Eve, shall I pick you up at the usual time in two days?" the driver asked.

Though he also feared Eve, it was a normal fear of someone in a higher position. In all fairness, Lady Eve was quite amiable toward those loyal to the princess's estate.

"No, I have something to do in two days."

"Then should I come pick you up in three days?"

"Don't come in three days either. The princess's estate should be able to operate normally without me by now. Is Sophia just sitting around doing nothing?"

Eve smiled slightly and calmly finished her thought: "Besides, school is about to start."

"......" The driver paused for a moment. "—What do you mean, school?"

Yes, school.

Because of Eve's ruthless reputation, many people overlooked the fact that she was only eighteen this year—still of an age where she hadn't yet attended university.

After a long pause, the driver, breaking out in a sweat, stammered, "This... this matter... I need to report it to Her Highness. She... she instructed us to ensure you show up at least once every four days."

Eve chuckled. "Education is a sacred and inviolable basic right of every citizen. Telling her won't change anything."

That was true in principle, but this was clearly not something a driver could decide. So he could only laugh awkwardly and speed away to report the matter.

Only after the light golden royal hovercar disappeared from sight did the attendant at the door say respectfully, "Miss Eve, the Medici Patriarch summons you."

Eve had, at some point, unbuttoned her suit jacket and was now casually slinging it over her shoulder. Brilliant sunlight streamed down from the clouds, making her silver hair shimmer like flowing mercury.

She narrowed her eyes, turned around, and said indifferently, "Lead the way."

It was hard to say what the Medici Patriarch had thought when he first heard the girl's absurd conditions, but a year and a half later, the young woman's performance was undoubtedly the best proof: he had made another successful investment.

When Eve entered, Sparti was buried in paperwork at his desk. He held an expensive handmade pen in one hand while the other was buried deep in his hair. It wasn't until Eve knelt briefly on one knee to pay respects that he looked up, appearing somewhat weary.

He waved his hand, indicating that Eve could take a seat wherever she liked. The First Steward, cloaked in a silver robe, stood like a ghostly presence beside the family leader.

"You've worked hard all these years. Due to the overall stance of the Medici family, we couldn't openly provide you with official support. Fortunately, you've handled everything excellently on your own."

Sparti set down his pen, folded his hands, and rested his chin on them, asking calmly, "Now that you've reached university age, what plans or aspirations do you have for your upcoming campus life?"

What kind of plans could one have for university life besides coasting along?

Eve thought seriously for a moment before replying, "I plan to enroll in the Mecha Department."

"Oh?" Sparti leaned forward with interest. "Mechas should be quite simple for you, shouldn't they? I thought you'd be more interested in the Command Department, or at least the Melee Department. Those are both strengths of the First Empire. As for mecha, the Empire Institute of Technology is stronger in that area."

Eve: "......"

How should she put this?

Actually, Sparti was quite right. The Military Academy of the First Empire Academy had six departments in total: Battlefield Command, Special Forces Melee, Mecha Piloting, Weapons Development, Reconnaissance Technology, and Medical Support. Among these, Command and Melee were the most prestigious programs.

But for that very reason, these two departments had always been gathering places for elites. In the original story, Eve had chosen the Melee Department to complement Cecil, who was in the Command Department, and ended up caught up daily in the female lead's romantic entanglements with her harem, leading to a rather dismal experience.

With the plot about to begin, although Eve had begun to harbor some doubts about this so-called original novel, it was better to be safe than sorry. She decided to maintain a cautious attitude and stay far away from these terrifying characters.

"I like mecha. Besides, there are too many geniuses in Command and Melee. I'm afraid I won't be able to keep up with them."

Sparti looked at the girl with a faint, knowing smile. When had she ever been afraid of so-called "geniuses"? If anything, it should be others running away from her.

But he didn't call her out. Instead, he picked up another roster and said calmly, "Luo Lin has applied for the Medical Department. The intended departments of others are also listed here. You can take a look at their choices."

Hearing this, Eve took the booklet.

Because she had entered politics early, Sparti often assigned her some family affairs to handle, so Eve now felt entirely at ease reviewing others' information.

The interstellar era relied heavily on alchemy and various mysterious radiation machines, so the level of medical development was arguably even worse than in the world of Eve's previous life. The field was quite lax, and given Luo Lin's laid-back personality, choosing this wasn't surprising.

Grace had a passion for weapons development and modification, so she went straight for her ideal department. Dick, considering his psychic abilities, chose Reconnaissance, which was a perfect fit. As for the others, most selected departments based on their strengths and interests.

She quickly flipped through the thin booklet and asked in surprise, "Did you forget to register Cecil?"

"He hasn't chosen yet," Sparti said, clearly enjoying the potential drama. "He's waiting for you to choose."

"......"

Well, that was a bit of a problem.

Eve asked earnestly, "Could you do me a favor?"

"What favor?"

"Please register me for the Command Department. Of course, where I'll actually end up is the Mecha Department," Eve handed the booklet back to him and smiled kindly. "After all, you wouldn't want your own son to pass up a good program just to waste time with me in the Mecha Department, right?"

Never mind, she'd just trick him into the Command Department first. When the semester started and it was time to compete for department president, she'd have Alice beat him up—beat him until his inner masochist emerged and he fell for the female lead. And just like that, everything would fall right back into place.

Eve could then gracefully bow out, her mission accomplished, slipping away quietly and leaving without a trace.

The idea was workable, indeed. Sparti took the booklet and swiftly filled in the false information for Eve, though he couldn't resist mocking her: "So, it turns out you do know in your heart that going to the Mecha Department is a waste of time."

"What can I say? I'm a busy person," Eve said with a relaxed expression. "Joining this department is the most convenient option for me, and if it's convenient for me..."

She snapped her fingers and grinned frankly, "—isn't that convenient for you and plenty of others too?"