Silent Conspiracy

[Scanning environment... (′-﹃-`) Coordinates confirmed: Wool's Orphanage, interior. Environmental parameters: damp, cold, average happiness index extremely low... Host, it looks like we've fallen into a collection of suffering.]

The system's rambling echoed through Ares's mind, accurately describing exactly how he felt.

Following Tom through the creaking front door with its peeling paint, Ares was hit by a stale smell mixed with disinfectant, old fabric, and a faint trace of mildew. The corridor was narrow and dim, its walls an oppressive dark green and completely bare of decoration. Occasionally, children in identical gray or brown clothes passed by without expression, their eyes mostly hollow or guarded far too early.

Everything here silently spoke of deprivation and indifference.

Tom did not say a word the entire way. He led Ares straight down the corridor to a door with an "Office" sign hanging on it. He knocked, and a slightly weary woman's voice called from inside, "Come in."

Mrs. Cole opened the door. She was a thin, stern-faced middle-aged woman dressed in an old-fashioned skirt suit. Adjusting her glasses, she looked first at Tom, her expression clearly carrying a mixture of helplessness and distance.

"Riddell? What is it?" Her tone was all business.

Only then did her gaze shift to Ares. When she saw his unusual hair color and eyes, she visibly froze for a moment, her brow furrowing even tighter.

"Ma'am," Tom said evenly, without the slightest trace of emotion, "he got lost nearby. He looks like he needs help."

Mrs. Cole's gaze swept over Ares's worn clothes, which were clearly not issued by the orphanage, before returning to his dirty yet undeniably delicate face—especially those mismatched eyes. "Lost? Child, what's your name? Where is your home?"

Ares had prepared his story long ago. He lowered his lashes, trying to look even more helpless and confused, and said in a voice with the faintest tremble of tears, "I... I'm Ares. I don't remember... I woke up in an alley, and I can't remember anything..." As he spoke, he secretly activated the Basic Magic Stabilization Technique the system had just transmitted, making his emotional fluctuations appear more "real." At the same time, he carefully guided an almost imperceptible ripple of soothing magic—an initial application of his blood pact talent. It was not powerful magic, more like a subtle mental suggestion.

[Host's acting skills have exploded! (??????) The Oscar statuette is on its way! Perfect magic guidance, successfully triggered a weak "empathy" effect!]

Looking at Ares's pale little face and those tearful, differently colored eyes that were both filled with helplessness, Mrs. Cole's heart inexplicably softened. That faint magical ripple was like a pebble dropped into still water, sending ripples through her subconscious. Besides, in these chaotic times of economic depression, lost and abandoned children were far from uncommon.

She sighed, and her tone softened slightly. "Amnesia? Poor child..." She looked at Tom, then at Ares. "You can stay here for now. We'll find a way to contact your family... if you still have any." Turning to Tom, she said in a routine tone, "Riddell, take him to the empty bed on the second floor. Get Sister Martha to give him toiletries and some clothes."

"Yes, ma'am," Tom answered, his expression unchanged.

[(≧?≦)? We did it! Host, we've infiltrated the place!]

Ares sighed inwardly in relief and hurriedly said softly to Mrs. Cole, "Thank you, ma'am."

Following Tom out of the office and up the creaking wooden stairs, Ares finally had the chance to properly observe this "cradle of the future Dark Lord." The conditions were even worse than he had imagined, and an unpleasant, indefinable smell lingered in the air.

Tom took him to a crowded dormitory containing seven or eight iron-framed beds. The bedding looked thin and old. He pointed at an empty, dust-covered bed by the window. "Yours."

His tone remained cold. After giving the instruction, he prepared to leave, as though he had merely completed a task that had nothing to do with him.

"Um..." Ares called after him again, taking out the few shillings from his pocket and offering half of them. "Thank you for bringing me in. As promised."

Tom stopped. His eyes fell on the coins, then lifted to look at Ares. This time, the scrutiny in his gaze deepened. This "Ares" had lost his memory, yet remembered that he had money? And he was giving half of it away so easily?

He was silent for several seconds, then held out his hand. Rather than taking them all, he only picked up two shillings from Ares's palm.

"That's enough," he said blandly, slipping the coins into his pocket with a natural motion. "Hide the rest yourself. Showing off money here isn't wise." It was the first time he had said something that carried the meaning of a warning to Ares, though his tone remained flat.

Ares froze for a moment before nodding. "...Thank you."

Tom said nothing more and turned to leave the dormitory.

[Huh? (??? ) He actually didn't take all of it? He even warned you? Did the target's favorability toward the host secretly rise just a tiny bit?]

"Maybe he just didn't want trouble, or maybe he thinks it's better to take things slowly," Ares replied inwardly to the system. Still, he could not deny that Tom's restrained action had shown him an extremely practical kind of "reason" beneath that cold exterior, rather than simple greed.

Over the next half day, Ares received supplies from Sister Martha, who had a kind face but tired eyes, and barely managed to tidy up his bed. Dinner took place in a noisy yet oppressive hall: watery oatmeal and a small piece of hard black bread. He noticed Tom sitting alone in a corner, quietly and quickly finishing his food while ignoring the noise around him, like an island.

That night, lying on the hard bedboards and listening to the occasional muttering and snoring of the other children, Ares felt the exhaustion and discomfort radiating from this body, his heart filled with conflicting emotions.

[Host, emotional fluctuations and residual magic detected from the target... It seems like he's having a nightmare? (′?_?`)]

The system's prompt made Ares turn his head. Moonlight streamed through the dirty window and fell over Tom on the bed opposite him. He was curled up tightly, brow furrowed, fine cold sweat beading on his forehead. His lips moved soundlessly, as though he were resisting something.

Was it a sign of a magical outburst? Or merely a nightmare?

Ares remembered the Basic Magic Stabilization Technique rewarded by the system. It contained methods for soothing not only his own unstable magic but unstable magic in the outside world as well. After hesitating for a moment, he cautiously summoned that thread of magic within him again, warm and cold intertwined. He transformed it into an exceedingly gentle, nearly undetectable ripple that slowly spread toward Tom like a silent lullaby.

He did not know whether it would work, but he wanted to try.

The moment that faint magical ripple touched Tom, he shuddered violently and abruptly opened his eyes! Those black eyes were like those of a startled beast in the darkness, instantly locking onto Ares's direction, filled with vigilance and lingering terror.

Ares's heart nearly stopped.

But the sharpness in Tom's eyes slowly faded the next second, replaced by deeper scrutiny and... confusion. He seemed able to sense that the force which had soothed the agitation in his heart and the unrest in his magic had come from this newcomer with strange eyes.

He said nothing. He merely gave Ares a deep look, his expression impossibly complicated. Then he turned over, presenting his back to Ares, though his tense body seemed to relax somewhat.

The dormitory returned to silence.

Yet Ares could not fall asleep for a long time. That look from Tom had made him understand that Tom had not only noticed his little action, but had already begun associating him with words like "abnormal" and "special."

[New mission issued! (??????)??]

[Mission Name: Silent Alliance]

[Mission Requirements: Within three days, engage in at least three effective nonverbal interactions with the target, such as sharing food or completing a small task together, and establish an initial understanding.]

[Mission Reward: Beginner Physique Enhancement (poor host, you need this! (＞_＜)), a small amount of gold coins.]

Looking at the new mission that had appeared on the system panel, then at the lonely and dangerous figure on the opposite bed with his back turned, Ares let out a soft sigh in the darkness.

The road ahead was long. It seemed his "cultivation" plan would have to begin with the smallest, least noticeable things. And their first silent magical contact was like a seed dropped into a deep pool. He did not know what kind of flower it would bloom into, or... what kind of monster it might nurture.