Chapter 17: The Person I Like Now
Sophie Wexler couldn’t be bothered to wrangle with them any longer and cut straight to the chase. "Alright, enough. Stop pretending you have my best interests at heart. You know exactly what you’re really up to."
"You’d better transfer the money you owe me within a week," Sophie Wexler said, watching them calmly. "Otherwise, I’ll file a suit with The Healers’ Association. This amount should be enough to open a formal case, don’t you think?"
"You!" One of the men flew into a rage, slamming his hand on the table as he shot to his feet and pointed at Sophie Wexler.
Instantly, the atmosphere in the area shifted. Palpable fluctuations of spiritual power began to fill the air, and the people nearby keenly sensed the change. The situation was on a knife’s edge.
"Sophie Wexler, don’t push your luck!" he roared, his spiritual power on the verge of erupting.
But in that split second, the man next to him grabbed his arm, shaking his head. "Don’t. She’s a Healer-class."
Those two words, "Healer-class," were enough to snap him out of his rage.
Because Healer-class Awakeners were rare and generally physically weaker than other Awakeners, The Empire had passed specific laws to protect them.
If they dared to lay a hand on Sophie Wexler here today, they wouldn’t have to wait until tomorrow—The Healers’ Association would be knocking on their door by nightfall.
The man’s face twisted, and he ground out through clenched teeth, "Fine. Just you wait!"
Sophie Wexler nodded. "Mm-hm, I know. I’ll be waiting for my money."
Without another glance at their expressions, she turned and walked away.
Her pace quickened considerably as she left.
She had absolutely no idea Howard Sharp would be here. If she had, she would have chosen any other time to collect this debt. ’Please, please don’t let me run into him,’ Sophie Wexler prayed.
But sometimes, you get exactly what you dread.
Sophie Wexler was so focused on rushing away that in the crowded bar, she inevitably bumped into someone.
Sophie Wexler stumbled back a couple of steps. Before she could even regain her footing, a voice dripping with disgust called out, "Sophie Wexler. You again!"
A piece of Sophie Wexler’s soul just died.
’Fine, fine, fine. So I really can’t escape this kind of cliché drama, can I?’
"I’ve told you I’m not interested in you. Can you please stop tracking my every move and following me around?"
Sophie Wexler looked up at him, waving her hands dismissively. "I wasn’t, I didn’t, and this is seriously just a coincidence."
Seeing the blatant suspicion in his eyes, Sophie Wexler gave up trying. She spread her hands and shrugged. "Well, if you don’t believe me, there’s nothing I can do."
Howard Sharp: "..."
"You..." Before Howard Sharp could get the words out, Sophie Wexler’s eyes suddenly lit up as if she had spotted something.
She hurried over in a specific direction, stopping in front of a tall man. After saying something to him, she grabbed his arm and pulled him back toward Howard.
Howard Sharp frowned, watching the man she was pulling along. "Sophie Wexler, what are you trying to do now?"
With her hand still on Cillian Forrest’s arm, Sophie Wexler ignored Cillian’s cold expression and announced to Howard Sharp, "Allow me to introduce you. This is the man I like now."
Cillian Forrest’s expression froze at her words. He frowned, then lowered his gaze to the woman beside him, who was spouting utter nonsense with a completely straight face.
Sophie Wexler looked up at him, blinking her eyes frantically. ’Please, I’m begging you, just play along.’
Cillian Forrest watched her frantic blinking, pressed his lips into a thin line, and looked away. In the end, he said nothing to contradict her.
Beside them, Howard Sharp frowned. He glanced at the expressionless Cillian Forrest, then turned his gaze back to Sophie Wexler.
Before Howard could speak, his companion burst out laughing and pointed at Cillian Forrest. "Him? You’re into a waiter?"
"Sophie Wexler, I didn’t think your standards could sink any lower," he added, his voice dripping with ridicule.
The very instant Cillian Forrest’s expression hardened, a sharp, cold voice cut in. "If you don’t know how to speak properly, then shut your filthy mouth. Don’t go spewing your crap everywhere and stinking up the place."
The man was taken aback by her retort. "Sophie Wexler, are you insane? Why are you cursing me out?"
"Weren’t you asking for it?" Sophie Wexler shot back.
The man opened his mouth to retort, but Howard Sharp stopped him. Howard’s gaze fell on the man beside Sophie Wexler, and his brow furrowed.
Although he said nothing, he still believed this was just another one of Sophie Wexler’s ploys to get his attention, that she had simply grabbed a random person to make him jealous.
After all, it wasn’t like she hadn’t done this sort of thing before.
"Sophie Wexler, you’re a Healer-class. When you come of age, you’ll be entered into The Empire’s matching system. Don’t throw yourself away so cheaply over a moment of impulse."
Healer-class Awakeners were rare and fragile. In years past, some desperate people, looking for a way to relieve the turbulence of their spiritual power, would force Healer-class individuals without powerful backgrounds into marriage contracts to help them get through their Disorder Periods.
To prevent such incidents from continuing, The Empire later implemented specific policies.
All Healer-class individuals were placed under a special protection system by The Empire. To ensure their marital safety, The Empire held a matching banquet every three years. Potential partners were all subjected to a rigorous screening process. A central AI would then suggest the most suitable matches for each Healer-class individual, after which the choice was left to the two parties involved.
This was the reason behind Howard Sharp’s words.
No matter Sophie Wexler’s many faults, she was still a Healer-class. She would have choices in the future; there was no need to ruin her prospects over a momentary impulse.
That’s right. In his eyes, Sophie Wexler’s current actions were a blatant act of self-degradation and utterly irresponsible.
Sophie Wexler looked at him, putting on this whole "for your own good" act, and was utterly baffled. ’What in the world is he even talking about?’
’I just want absolutely nothing to do with you.’
"My business is none of your concern."
Sophie Wexler could feel the impatience radiating from the man beside her. Her hand, still linked through his arm, gave a small, placating squeeze. "And let me state this one more time," she continued, "my being here has nothing to do with you."
"Running into you was a pure coincidence, so don’t read too much into it. I have things to do, so I’ll be going now. You two have fun. And I hope we never meet again."
Without a moment’s hesitation after firing off her parting shots, Sophie Wexler grabbed Cillian Forrest and made a run for it.
Sophie Wexler didn’t slow her pace until they were outside the bar. Recalling the sheer drama of the last few minutes, she couldn’t help but mutter, "Can we please not have any more of these ridiculously cliché coincidences?"
A few more ’coincidences’ like this, and people would start thinking she was actually interested in him, no matter how much she wasn’t.
Cillian Forrest watched her disgusted expression, then his gaze dropped to her hand, which was still holding his arm. After a long moment, he asked in a low voice, "How much longer are you going to keep holding on?"
Only then did Sophie Wexler notice she was still clinging to Cillian Forrest’s arm. She instantly let go. "Sorry, sorry! I forgot."
"Thank you for that, by the way. If it weren’t for you, I’d have never been able to talk my way out of that mess."
Cillian Forrest pulled his arm back without a word.
Then a thought suddenly occurred to Sophie Wexler. "Oh, right. What were you doing in that bar, anyway?"