Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

Chapter 833 - 193.1 - Selene.

Chapter 833 - 193.1 - Selene

The match continued, but my focus wasn't entirely on it anymore.

Not because it wasn't interesting—on the contrary, it was playing out exactly as expected. Lilia had realized her mistake, figured out the interference, and was now seething at the obvious manipulation happening right in front of her. But what could she do? The battlefield had never belonged to her in the first place.

And Selene… Selene was enjoying it.

I knew that without even looking at her.

Still, I kept my gaze fixed on the match, my arms crossed loosely as I leaned against the pillar, observing the subtle shifts in the flow of the fight. But then—

"Do you think life is fair?"

The voice was smooth, lilting with casual amusement.

I didn't react.

Not immediately.

Because that was a stupid question.

Instead, I remained where I was, my gaze unmoving, uninterested. I wasn't obligated to answer something so blatantly baiting.

Selene, however, was not the type to tolerate being ignored.

"Isn't it a bit rude to ignore a lady when she's speaking?" she mused, her tone carrying just the faintest hint of mock offense.

My expression remained neutral. I tilted my head slightly, shifting my gaze only after a deliberate pause.

"Were you talking to me?" I asked, my voice calm, unreadable. "I thought it was someone else."

A soft chuckle. "Surely you jest," she murmured, her brown eyes gleaming with quiet amusement. "Do you sense anyone else near us?"

Of course not.

Selene knew exactly what she was doing. The space around us was clear—while the other cadets were absorbed in the match, she had positioned herself precisely so that only I would hear her.

She wanted this conversation.

And that meant she wanted something from me.

Selene Thornheart.

00:35

I exhaled through my nose, finally shifting my full attention to her.

Selene Thornheart.

Up close, she was an entity of pure control. Every part of her was meticulously measured—the way her small frame carried itself, the way her shoulders barely moved when she breathed, the exact tilt of her chin as she maintained eye contact. She was deliberate. Every step, every glance, every faint twitch of her fingers—it all served a purpose.

And I saw it all.

My perception was sharp, honed by experience and something more, something instinctual. I caught the minute shifts in her weight as she stood, the barely-there flick of her fingertips as if adjusting invisible threads, the near-imperceptible rise and fall of her chest that never quite matched the rhythm of a truly relaxed person.

She was playing.

Not just with Lilia.

Not just with Adrian.

With everything.

With me.

"You're watching carefully," she noted, tilting her head slightly. Her voice was soft, but it carried weight. "What do you see?"

I didn't answer immediately. Instead, I observed a little longer.

Her balance was perfect—no unnecessary movements. Her pulse, as far as I could tell, was even. There was no stiffness in her shoulders, no hint of nervous energy in her fingers. She was comfortable.

That was dangerous.

Because comfort meant control.

And if she was this controlled while orchestrating a match that she had rigged from the start, then what else had she already accounted for?

Finally, I spoke. "I see someone with a lot of free time," I said evenly. "Enough to interfere in petty squabbles."

Her lips curved, pleased. "Oh, how unkind," she murmured, placing a hand against her chest in mock offense. "And here I thought I was simply showing support for my dear little sister."

I didn't respond to that.

Selene smiled again, shifting her gaze back to the match as if she were truly invested in the outcome. "But, of course," she continued, "I wouldn't expect you to believe such things. After all, you've been watching me just as much as I've been watching you."

She turned back to me, her brown eyes sharp with something unreadable.

"What do you think? This figure of mine, it is quite nice, isn't it?"

The moment Selene posed her question, something shifted.

It wasn't just her words—it was the subtle yet deliberate way she adjusted her stance, the barely noticeable tilt of her hips, the slow, measured breath that made her chest rise and fall in a way designed to draw attention. The way her fingers lightly brushed against her collarbone, as if absentmindedly tracing the curve of her skin.

And then, there was the mana.

My [Perceptive Insight] triggered almost instantly.

A pulse of energy, faint yet deliberate, radiated from her. It was controlled, refined, meant to be unnoticed by anyone who wasn't paying attention. But I was paying attention.

I always was.

This wasn't just body language—Selene was actively using mana to influence the atmosphere around her. And not in an aggressive or direct way. It was subtle, nearly imperceptible, designed to slip under someone's guard without them realizing it.

I exhaled slowly.

'Interesting…'

I let my senses sharpen further, attempting to trace the psionic nature of her mana flow. If this was a skill, it had to have a structure, an identifiable pattern. But the moment I tried to analyze it, the mana seemed to slip, as though avoiding my direct scrutiny.

Not by accident.

By design.

I narrowed my eyes slightly, but Selene only smiled in response, clearly enjoying the way I was reacting—or rather, the fact that I was reacting at all.

This wasn't the first time I had encountered something like this.

'Eleanor…'

She had a similar skill. Though hers was passive, an effect that came naturally with her presence. It wasn't something she intentionally wielded, but it existed nonetheless. A quiet, undeniable gravity that made people unconsciously aware of her.

Selene's, however, was different.

Hers was controlled.

Refined.

Weaponized.

She wasn't just influencing the atmosphere—she was directing it. Focused. Intentional. And she was using it on me.

Why?

I glanced at her wrist.

The smartwatch.

More specifically, the faint glow of her lens-connected interface, active just moments ago.

A quick background check.

The answer clicked into place almost immediately.

'She saw the reports about me and Irina.'

The recent media frenzy around Irina and me wasn't something I had particularly cared about, but it seemed others did. Selene, in particular, wouldn't have missed something like that—especially given her own talent for controlling narratives.

She had likely read into it. Considered what kind of relationship I had with Irina. And now?

She was testing me.

'To what end?' I wondered.

I kept my expression impassive, my stance unchanged. But inwardly, my mind was working through the possibilities. If Selene was trying to see how I reacted to this, it meant she was assessing something. Maybe my discipline. Maybe my usefulness.

Or maybe… she just wanted to see how much she could make me dance.

I exhaled slowly, tilting my head just slightly, meeting her gaze fully.

"This figure of yours is indeed quite nice," I said evenly, watching the flicker of amusement in Selene's brown eyes.

It wasn't a compliment. Not really. Just a simple acknowledgment, delivered with the same detached calm as everything else I said. But I knew Selene. I knew how she operated. And I knew exactly what response she was going to give me.

Sure enough, she stepped forward.

Just close enough.

Just enough to test boundaries.

Fine-tuned control, as always.

"Then," she murmured, her voice carrying a faint, playful lilt. "Fine things should be tasted, don't you think?"

Her brown eyes gleamed with something unreadable—something dangerous. A challenge. An invitation. A trap.

Predictable.

I tilted my head slightly, exhaling through my nose in quiet amusement. "Fine things should be tested," I corrected smoothly. "But one must first check if they are poisonous."

A brief pause.

Then, laughter.

Soft. Light. But carrying weight.

Selene placed a hand against her chest, her posture remaining effortless, the faintest shift in her expression betraying intrigue. "Poisonous?" she echoed, feigning surprise. "How cruel. Do I seem so dangerous to you, Astron?"

I met her gaze fully, allowing the silence to stretch just a second longer than necessary. "No," I said finally. "Danger can be obvious. You, on the other hand, prefer to work in ways that don't leave traces."

Another flicker in her eyes.

A moment of intrigue.

Then, another step.

Closer now.

A fraction too close for casual conversation.

Her presence was carefully controlled, her every movement measured. This wasn't just seduction—it was something more than that. Something deeper.

She was playing with possibilities.

She was seeing what I would do.

"Well," she said lightly, her voice a purr of amusement. "Poison can be pleasant in the right doses, can it not? Sometimes, it even makes life more exciting."

That depends," I said smoothly. "Some poisons take effect immediately. Others linger, waiting for the perfect moment to strike."

Selene smiled.

A slow, knowing curve of her lips.

A pause.

Then—

"Ah, but isn't that what makes it fun?" she mused. "The uncertainty? The risk?" Her gaze flicked over me again, deliberate. "Tell me, Astron. Do you fear taking risks?"

"Everyone takes risks. Only those who are wise never take risks they don't control."