Live Streaming Academy

"What are you doing at my house?"

Rudy rubbed the back of his neck, looking incredibly nervous. "I actually wanted to talk to you earlier when we were in my car, but I couldn’t say anything because your professor was sitting right next to you."

Solomon completely ignored the excuse. "How did you know where I live?"

Rudy blinked, slightly surprised by the aggressive question, but he answered honestly. "You are not exactly hard to find, Solomon. Your family’s address is listed on your original guild application files, and it is on the precinct’s residential registry."

Solomon crossed his arms over his chest. "What do you want?"

"I just want to talk," Rudy pleaded softly. He glanced around the quiet suburban street. "But this is not the right place for it. Is there a secluded spot nearby where we can go and talk privately?"

Solomon stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous, lethal whisper. "I do not know what kind of trap you are planning, detective, but you need to be careful. Do not do anything stupid. If my family gets involved in whatever bullshit you are pulling, things are going to get really messy, really fast."

"Don’t worry, I understand your concerns and I would react the same way if someone showed up at my doors unannounced, but I truly just want to talk to you," Rudy reassured.

Solomon pondered for a few seconds. ’No matter what he is planning, it won’t succeed. Professor Balzac is at the house so he doesn’t have to worry about his parents, while he himself can deal with anyone, no matter who it is.’

"There is a park nearby. Follow me."

Meanwhile, back inside the house, Jasmine was crying alone in her bedroom, deeply hurt that her older brother had yelled at her in front of a stranger.

Downstairs, Balzac and Solomon’s parents were left alone in the living room. They were chatting normally, exchanging polite laughs regarding the weather and the diner business.

Elara smiled warmly and refilled Balzac’s tea. "So, Professor, what were you going to tell us about Solomon? How is he performing at the academy?"

Balzac popped another homemade pastry into his mouth. He chewed slowly, swallowed, and then completely dropped his lazy, playful facade.

His expression turned deadly serious.

"We can drop the act now," Balzac stated, his voice devoid of its usual drawl.

Johan and Elara exchanged a confused glance. "What do you mean, Professor?" Johan asked cautiously.

"I can feel the two of you trying to pry into my mind right now," Balzac revealed, picking up another pastry. "It will not work. I possess absolute immunity to any form of mental infiltration or psychological attack. I am far too familiar with those arts."

He took a bite of the pastry, chewing casually before pointing a finger at Johan. "You must possess some form of advanced Mind Reading." He shifted his finger toward Elara. "And you must possess a talent related to active Mind Control. That is a truly terrifying and incredibly synergistic combination for a married couple."

Johan and Elara instantly grew tense, their friendly demeanor vanishing. They shifted their postures into defensive, guarded stances.

"Do not worry," Balzac reassured them, continuing to eat his snack. "I honestly do not care about your hidden abilities. I do not care why you are desperately trying to live a normal life, and I do not care if your children know about your powers."

Elara narrowed her eyes. "What do you want from us?"

Balzac glared at Johan, his eyes sharp and calculating. "Why is a native of the Holy Empire hiding all the way out here in a small country, pretending to be a normal family man and running a local diner?"

Johan swallowed hard. "We have no idea what you are talking about."

"There is no use hiding it from me," Balzac responded, dusting the pastry crumbs from his coat. "I am originally from the Holy Empire myself. I can smell the distinct, lingering scent of a Holy Empire native from a mile away. And you, Johan, reek of it. Although, Elara... you do not."

The couple grew even more cautious, realizing the messy-haired professor was vastly more dangerous and perceptive than he appeared.

Balzac let out a tired sigh. "Let us just leave that topic alone as well. Your answer would not matter to me anyway."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "However, I can distinctly smell the lingering scent of holiness radiating from your daughter, Jasmine. Yet, I sense absolutely nothing of the sort from Solomon. So, either you are not Solomon’s biological father... or you are not his parents at all."

As soon as Balzac spoke those words, Johan and Elara both stood up abruptly. They instantly activated their S-rank mental talents, flooding the living room with intense, suffocating psychological pressure designed to paralyze the professor’s mind.

Balzac remained completely relaxed, lounging comfortably in the armchair. The mental assault had absolutely zero effect on him. He picked up another pastry from the platter and took a casual bite.

"I literally just told you that will not work on me," Balzac mumbled with a full mouth.

Johan and Elara slowly lowered their hands, realizing they were completely outmatched. They ceased the mental attack.

"I meant it when I said I mean you no harm," Balzac reassured them, his tone softening slightly. "I am not your enemy. I simply want to protect Solomon and do what is best for him. He is walking a very dangerous path right now. It is vastly better for you to tell me everything, so I can adequately protect him from future harm."

Johan and Elara looked at each other. They held a silent, instantaneous conversation within their own minds, utilizing their telepathic link to weigh the risks. While Balzac continued to gobble down the snacks.

After a few tense seconds, they both nodded in agreement.

They turned their attention back to the professor.

"You might want to stop eating for a moment, Professor," Johan warned grimly. "This is a very long, very dark story."