“This street is very quiet, isn't it?”
Vivian walked beside Greg, her tone much softer than usual.
“I looked up some information before coming to the Imperial Capital. They say this street preserves the architectural style of the early Empire. Very few tourists know about it, so it's much quieter than the main street.”
Although Greg had been here many times, he still nodded and replied casually, “Yeah, it really is quite nice.”
He quietly swept his gaze over the intersection ahead, silently calculating the distance in his mind—another two hundred meters or so, and they would pass the meeting point he had agreed upon with Allie.
He had to find a way to make Vivian change her route before they reached it.
He noticed a small stall selling handmade silver jewelry by the roadside. Various uniquely styled rings and bracelets were displayed on the stand, gleaming softly under the setting sun.
Getting a sudden idea, he stopped and pointed at the stall, saying, “Look at this jewelry. The craftsmanship is quite exquisite. Do you want to take a look?”
Vivian followed his gaze, took a glance, and then shook her head.
“I don't have much interest in jewelry, and... I'd rather do something more meaningful with you.”
Greg's heart skipped a beat.
He had originally thought she just saw him as her simp, but looking at it now... why did it seem like Vivian was actively pursuing him?
“No, no, no. What if this is just my own wishful thinking, or she's just stringing me along?”
“Anyway, I should calm down first.”
After calming his racing heart, he kept pace with Vivian.
Although Greg tried to change their route a few more times afterward:
“Wow, look, there's a black cat doing a backflip over there! Let's go check it out!”
“I heard the roast chicken over there is delicious. Do you want to try some?”
“The alchemy items in that shop over there are half-off!”
But without exception, every attempt failed.
Greg felt as if every single one of his attempts to divert her was effortlessly deflected.
Yet there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. After all, they were companions who had conquered a dungeon together; he certainly couldn't just ditch her here and run off on his own.
Helpless, Greg continued to walk forward with Vivian for a while longer.
He noticed that the pedestrians on the street were thinning out even more, and the shops were becoming sparser, replaced by old residences and ivy-covered walls.
The setting sun cast their long shadows onto the ground, overlapping and parting like a silent dance.
“Greg.”
Vivian suddenly spoke, her voice even softer than before.
“You seem distracted. Is there something on your mind?”
Greg was startled but quickly shook his head.
“No, not at all. I was just thinking about the secondary defense. You know, the topic this time is quite difficult.”
“Is that so?”
It was impossible to tell from Vivian's tone whether she believed him or not, but she didn't press further.
She merely slowed her pace slightly, bringing the two of them a little closer.
Greg could smell the faint fragrance drifting from her hair, like some unknown flower—fresh and elegant.
A small garden square appeared ahead. In the center stood an ancient fountain, with a statue of a woman holding a staff at its heart. Water trickled from the tip of the staff, flowing down the base of the statue into the pool below, kicking up fine sprays of water.
A few elderly folks sat by the pool, chatting leisurely. Several sparrows hopped around the edge, pecking at breadcrumbs on the ground.
In the corner of the garden grew a few tall plane trees, their leaves rustling in the evening breeze. Occasionally, a few withered leaves drifted onto the water, rippling gently with the waves.
“This fountain is said to have a history of three hundred years.”
Vivian stopped in front of the fountain, her gaze landing on the statue.
“The statue is modeled after a very powerful female Great Archmage in the Empire's history—Miriam Walker.”
“Legend has it that she single-handedly quelled a mana storm in the southern part of the Empire that had lasted for decades, saving tens of thousands of lives. To commemorate her achievements, later generations built this fountain.”
Standing beside her and listening to her narrate this history in such a calm and soothing tone, Greg suddenly felt a bit conflicted.
He could sense that Vivian seemed to be truly enjoying this time—she spoke slower, shedding her usual icy armor to reveal a rare, soft side.
And he had been constantly thinking about how to get away from her and avoid meeting Allie.
This contrast made even someone like him, a total scumbag, feel a faint pang of guilt.
“Did you know?”
Vivian suddenly turned her head to look at him, her ice-blue eyes exceptionally clear in the reflection of the setting sun.
“When I first heard this story, I thought to myself—how nice it would be to see this fountain with someone special.”
Feeling a bit uncomfortable under her gaze, Greg looked away and coughed. “...So, does this count as getting your wish?”
“Yes.”
Vivian's reply was brief and certain, a faint curve appearing at the corner of her lips.
“I suppose so.”
She paused, then added, “And it feels pretty close to what I imagined. Better, even.”
Greg felt his heart beat a little faster again.
He quickly turned his gaze toward the distant skyline, pretending to admire the sunset.
The sun had completely sunk near the horizon, dyeing the clouds in the sky a rich orange-red, as if they were ablaze.
A few nesting birds flew overhead, letting out crisp chirps.
The streetlights began to light up one by one, their dim yellow glow appearing exceptionally warm in the dusk.
He took a deep breath and decided to make one last attempt. “Vivian, it's getting dark. Why don't we call it a day? There's still a lot of preparation to do for the secondary defense—”
“Let's walk just a bit further.”
Vivian interrupted him, her gaze directed down the path where the street extended.
“There's a small bridge ahead. They say the sunset there is beautiful. Once we see that, we'll go back.”
Greg opened his mouth, but in the end, he couldn't bring himself to refuse.
He looked at Vivian's ice-blue eyes reflecting the glow of the sunset, holding an almost tender expectation that he rarely saw on her face.
He fell silent for a moment, then sighed softly. “...Alright, let's take a look at the bridge then.”
Vivian nodded in satisfaction, turning to continue forward.
Greg followed behind her, silently praying in his heart: “I sacrifice ten years of Victoria's luck to ensure I don't run into Allie and the others in these final moments!”
And then, there was no 'then.'
As they turned the street corner, Greg's eyes locked with a familiar figure.
The figure had dark golden hair and a sword hanging at her waist. She was standing in front of a nearby shop, tapping her toe against the ground in boredom.
And a short distance away from her stood Wendy, who had put on a simple disguise.
It was too late for Greg to push Vivian away and flee; the moment he appeared, Allie's sharp gaze locked onto him, freezing him in his tracks.
Then, Allie's gaze shifted to Vivian beside him.
Her brow furrowed slightly, a flash of obvious displeasure crossing her eyes, and her lips curled downward.
Greg covered his eyes in despair.
His luck on the surface was still as consistent as ever, even when sacrificing Victoria.
Rate on N.U.
