"No need..." Before Lana could finish her words, she was interrupted.
"Lana! You have to ask for sothing. Otherwise, we will continue to feel guilty. Not to ntion, after realizing the depth of our mistake, we are ashad and want to make ands with you." Layla insisted.
"Eh? I said, No need to think; I have already decided on the compensation you can provide to ." Lana bead. Her mind was filled with mischievous thoughts, making the quintet hesitate.
This was a completely different reaction from what they had expected; however, they held back their thoughts and looked at Lana with a grim expression, waiting for her to begin.
Lana concluded her elaborate explanation, and as her final words faded, the quintet gazed at her with unrestrained admiration.
To conceive such a devilishly clever sche... it was beyond impressive.
Even the most mischievous among them couldn’t resist the urge to applaud her ingenuity.
Lana rely waved her hand with grand nonchalance.
"Oh, please. I’ve known from the very beginning that I’m a woman of exceptional brilliance," she declared, her tone dripping with mock modesty.
Her self-assured boasting elicited a chorus of laughter from the group.
Truly, Lana was a fascinating paradox, sharp-minded yet effortlessly humorous.
To think they had ever doubted her because of so rumors made each of them feel a little foolish.
anwhile, Lana finished the last bite of her al with leisurely grace and glanced at the quintet, who imdiately mirrored her movents, setting down their cutlery in sync.
Without further delay, she rose and made her way toward the broadcasting room, her eyes gleaming with intent.
Just outside the room stood two vigilant students, the official guards. The broadcasting room was one of the most important rooms in the entire university.
It was reserved for special occasions: announcents of holidays, ergencies, or major university declarations.
Because of its significance, it was perpetually guarded by mbers of the student council.
At the sight of them, Betty gave Lana a brief nod before stepping forward with practiced confidence.
"Excuse ," she began, her voice clear and commanding, "I wish to apply for admission to the student council."
The guards stiffened. Recognition flashed across their faces, and reverence soon followed. Betty, the Ice Queen of the Mystic Departnt, was renowned throughout the university.
The re idea that such an eminent figure wished to join their student council filled them with pride.
Ordinary students had to submit applications, undergo several rounds of interviews, and wait endlessly for a vacancy before they could even dream of entry.
But the Mystic Departnt was different... its mbers wielded authority that transcended bureaucracy. If a Mystic student desired admission, the doors simply opened.
Priscilla, one of the students, curved her lips into a sly smile. "That’s quite the request, Betty. You’ll need to fill out a few rounds of paperwork before you’re accepted."
"Of course," Betty replied smoothly, seizing Priscilla’s hand. "Then you’d better take there imdiately. I must be admitted before Layla does. If she joins first, she’ll surely claim the higher position."
Priscilla blinked in confusion, thrown off by Betty’s urgency. Her companion, Marriott, was equally puzzled, but before either could question further, Betty was already dragging Priscilla down the corridor.
Marriott hesitated, about to contact the head of the student council to tell about the news in advance, when another familiar figure appeared... Layla. She approached briskly and clasped Marriott’s hand.
"I need to get admitted to the student council before Betty does," Layla said in a rush. "Take there imdiately."
In that instant, realization dawned on Marriott. So, this was a rivalry, a petty competition between two Mystic prodigies. Smiling brightly, she replied, "Of course, Layla. I’ll escort you at once."
As she led Layla away, Marriott consoled herself with the thought that bringing a student of the Mystic Departnt into the student council would surely earn her a promotion.
Guarding the broadcasting room suddenly seed trivial.
As for the chance that it was all the plan of the mystic cultivators... it seed stupid. Why would the Mystic Cultivators care about a broadcasting room?
But Marriott’s assumption was a fatal mistake.
The mont the path cleared, Lana slipped into the broadcasting room without hesitation. She swiftly locked the door behind her and exchanged a knowing glance with Richard, who responded with an encouraging nod through the glass window.
"Ready," he mouthed.
Lana approached the microphone. Her heart thudded once in her chest, then steadied.
Five minutes later, when Richard’s ssage arrived on her phone, she flicked the switch and began to speak in an altered, unrecognizable voice.
"Greetings, everyone. I’m an anonymous informant here to share so intriguing truths the public deserves to know," she announced, her tone dripping with fabricated intrigue.
The campus fell silent as her voice echoed through every corridor and cafeteria.
"First," Lana continued, "the long-standing rumor is true; Brenda and Lana were indeed switched at birth. However, Lana was unaware of this exchange. It was Brenda who manipulated the truth to evoke sympathy and deceive everyone around her."
Gasps and murmurs rippled across the university.
"Furthermore," Lana said smoothly, "I recently witnessed Lana at a bank, speaking with the manager. She was repaying a debt of thirty million dollars owed to the Almond family. Yet, rather than acknowledging her integrity, they’ve painted her as the villain. How pitiful... how unjust!"
On her shoulder, Mr. Crow fluttered his wings nervously, whispering through their psychic link,
’If you keep portraying yourself as the victim, people might connect the dots and uncover your true identity.’
Understanding the warning, Lana quickly adjusted her tone.
"Setting Lana aside," she added, "there’s sothing even more shocking about dear Brenda. Despite her delicate façade and tragic past, she has been attempting to seduce her best friend’s boyfriend."
That last statent sent the entire university into chaos.
’Since Brenda loves spreading rumors,’ Lana mused inwardly, ’why shouldn’t I return the favor?’
With that, she flicked off the microphone, smirked, and slipped out of the broadcasting room like a shadow.
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