From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)
Chapter 94: The Prince and the Cafeteria Peasants

Chapter 94: The Prince and the Cafeteria Peasants

Emile stopped in front of the cafeteria, his face distorted in disbelief as he jabbed at his phone. The call connected with a beep.

"Cousin, what’s this about military training?!" he said, agitation evident in his voice.

On the other end of the line, Jacklin sighed. "You didn’t know?! Seriously? The way you acted, insisting on going to uni here, I thought you were completely aware. Well, it doesn’t matter now. Calm down. It’s not like you are being drafted. Girls are attending, too, you know. It’s nothing like those wilderness survival shows you are imagining."

Emile paced in a tight circle, his fingers tugging at his curly hair. "Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure about that? Can’t you get me an exemption or something?!"

"What exemption?" Jacklin said with a huff. "Everyone has done it. I’ve done it! Are you saying you are less than us girls?"

"You are talking about girls! Of course, they go easy on them! But me! I’m a guy! I’ll be dead before the first day ends!" Emile retorted.

Jacklin clicked her tongue. "Fine, fine! I don’t have any connection that high up. But let’s do dinner tonight. I’ll ask little Uncle to come too. Maybe you can plead your case with him. He might know someone who could help you..."

"I doubt it", Emile cut in, kicking a stone. His voice grew soft, resigned. "He just ignores me like always..."

Jacklin was silent for a moment, and then her tone softened. "Still, you are his sister’s son. If you just try...be polite, behave a little, maybe act a bit obedient for once, he surely helps you. Anyway, you have nothing to lose."

She didn’t say it aloud, but her real motive wasn’t entirely Emile’s relief. She was hoping to drag her uncle near QC University. Maybe, if they were lucky, they could catch sight of Asena. Or ask about her. With her eye-catching look and style, that girl had to be standing out like a rose in a gravel pit. Someone must know her. She had the makings of a campus idol, for sure.

"Okay... text me the time and place..." Emile said with a huff.

He ended the call and stared at his phone for a long second. He rubbed his eyes. He had already made a lousy first impression on his roommates, coming off like a total jerk, and now, the news about military training only dragged his mood down further. The weight of the day pressed on his chest like a stone.

He let out a heavy sigh and trailed after his roommates to the cafeteria.

Maybe food could cheer him up, he thought. But when he reached the wide cafeteria entrance, his eyes widened at the long rows of self-serve stations and the basic trays stacked high with cafeteria food. Noodles swimming in broth, fried vegetables, chicken nuggets that looked dry... they all looked greasy and far from nutritious.

Emile took one look, recoiled, and turned on his heel to leave.

"What?" a sharp voice rang out behind him. "Is it too humble for your taste, your majesty?!" Micah stood there with a tray in hand, eyebrow arched high, and voice filled with sarcasm.

Emile halted in his tracks. "What?"

"Wow, am I speaking in tongues now?! Or were my lowly peasant words not fit for your princely vocabulary?" Micah narrowed his eyes.

Emile’s expression crumbled as tears gathered in his eyes. "You are so mean!" he cried and ran off.

Micah blinked after him, stunned. That had escalated faster than he expected. Was the kid really that sensitive? No one had reacted that way to his words before... at least no grown-up!

"What? What did I say?! Come on! That wasn’t even harsh! Not compared to what he said to you!" he turned toward Darcy, puzzled.

Darcy shook his head. "Maybe he is homesick. Cut him some slack."

Micah scratched the back of his neck, frowning. "So what? Am I supposed to babysit him now too, like Nick and Eddie over there?"

"No, but don’t shower him with your snarky remarks," Darcy said helplessly.

"Nope, no way. Not until he apologises to you!"

"Well, honestly, when he realised he had mistaken Darcy, he did look genuinely regretful." Nick chimed in.

"Yeah? Well, I didn’t see him squeaking any apologies when he saw Darcy after that!" Micah muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Chill out," Eddie said, clapping a hand on Micah’s shoulder. "You made the poor boy cry."

Micah’s lips twitched. "What is he, made of a leaking dam or something?!"

"Let’s just eat first. Then we can go find him." Nick said, eyeing the food.

Micah grumbled but plopped down at a table. He shoved a spoonful of rice into his mouth, chewing absentmindedly. Still dumbfounded by the boy’s reaction.

"What kind of family raises a kid like that?!" he mumbled.

*****

Across the city, in La Revirere Company, Clyde Du Pont’s eyelid twitched.

He leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Have you found anything about the sender?!" he asked tightly, his voice sharp.

His assistant stood stiffly across the desk. "I’m sorry, sir. The account appears to have been protected by special services or military IT."

Clyde’s jaw clenched. "Then start contacting our clients in those circles. Discreetly. ask around,"

Clyde didn’t take his eyes off the bright red plunge on the SAFA stock chart on his laptop.

He had seen many companies hit worse than this, but this wasn’t just about the market anymore.

Whoever was behind the text message had the power. He was the real deal. He needed to get to the bottom of this, fast. Before he fell into his trap.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed.

"What is it, Jacklin?"

"Little uncle," she said sweetly. "Remember how you bailed on lunch? Tonight, let’s go see Emile. He was really upset this morning."

Clyde opened his mouth to refuse. But he recalled yesterday’s encounter and his abrupt cancellation. "Sure. I’ll stop by."

"Great! See you soon." Jacklin said before ending the call with zero hesitation.

Clyde tried to resume his work, but another image flashed in his mind. The girl, or should she call her Asena? From yesterday.

He remembered every detail about her: the way her silver hair glinted under the sun, her neck, slender and wrapped in a choker necklace, the way the blouse fit, elegant, restrained. Even the small bandages on her hand were not missed. But the most memorable of all was when her eyes met his. The surprise in them. The way those thin lips parted slightly....

Clyde ground his teeth and shut that thought down.

He shouldn’t be thinking about her, but he was.

His fingers found the smooth prayer bead on his wrist, rolling it slowly through his hand.

He didn’t need these useless emotions. He reminded himself with each turn. After all, he had chosen solitude. Emotions only ever cloud judgment.