The Shepherds Are Dense

Chapter 79: A Corpse in the Club

After greeting and shaking hands with Aiwas, Aaron turned to Lily behind him. “I presume this is Miss Lily? Are you joining our club as well?”“…Huh?”

Lily let out a soft sound, confused but returning a polite nod.

Aiwas suddenly understood why Aaron was so courteous to him and Lily.

To confirm, he asked for her, “You know Lily too?”

“Of course. The news of Her Highness hosting you both last night has likely spread through the entire capital by now.”

Aaron’s lips curved slightly, a rare smile on his usually stoic face, though it was stiff and faintly comical on his otherwise handsome features. “I recall Master Yannis was at that banquet… and afterward, Her Highness gave you the keys to 14 Ronin Street.”

His rare smile, unpracticed, reminded Lily of the old butler Oswald’s eerie grin, making her lips twitch as she suppressed a laugh.

Angela, hearing this, glanced at Aiwas and Isabel, realization dawning.

She tugged at Aiden’s sleeve.

After two pulls, Aiden glanced at Aiwas and shook his head silently.

Frustrated, Angela glared at him, tugging again, but Aiden didn’t budge.

[We already told President Aaron we’re the inviters…]

With that, Angela grabbed another friend and left, eager to share the juicy gossip—[No wonder Her Highness came specifically for Aiwas!]

Aiden stayed, slightly out of place in the conversation, as he genuinely needed Aiwas’s help.

Isabel, deep in thought, finally recalled Aaron’s identity. “I’ve seen you… you’re Carter’s son.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Aaron replied, surprised she remembered. “It’s been about ten years since we last met. Your memory is as remarkable as ever.”

“Thank you, Mr. Aaron,” Isabel replied, mirroring his formal address.

She leaned toward Aiwas, whispering, “He’s the Justice Minister’s son. He probably knows about us… and the painting.”

[No wonder he knows me and Lily, and calls me ‘Mr.’ instead of ‘classmate,’] Aiwas thought.

Or rather, Aaron didn’t know Lily personally but knew Aiwas’s maid from the royal banquet was named Lily.

[Still, our relationship’s no secret. No need to whisper…]

As they spoke quietly, Aaron opened a drawer, placing three badges on the counter without touching them, maintaining distance.

“Your membership paperwork will be handled later. No rush on fees—I’ll send the invoice with the membership booklet to your residence. Please, take a seat anywhere.”

He smiled warmly, speaking fluently. “Order any drinks here; they’ll be delivered promptly. Here’s the drink menu and snack list. Copies are in the second-floor booths and tables. Any additional requests, just tell the serving students. Everything’s free, covered by annual fees. Don’t hesitate to indulge.”

“Also, ignore any ads or flyers on tables. We allow members to promote personal projects.”

The frail half-elf president was remarkably perceptive, unlike the valedictorian Haina.

He knew Aiwas and Isabel’s sudden joining meant someone invited them for a purpose.

Instead of prying or currying favor, he streamlined procedures to save their time, showing goodwill while keeping a comfortable, safe social distance.

His approach was so considerate that even the sensitive Isabel felt at ease.

Isabel picked up the three badges, handing them to Aiwas and Lily.

Aaron explained, “These badges are membership proof. Wear them, and no one will stop you. They’re also superhuman gear—if you slip, they prevent injury or soiled clothes.”

The badges were elegant, made of white crystal.

Shaped like a slightly tall, rounded isosceles triangle—almost a teardrop—they bore faint, crisscrossing net-like engravings, resembling grill marks on a steak.

[Full membership badges right away?]

[Pretty sweet.]

Aiwas accepted his discreetly.

A light screen flashed before his eyes:

Crystal Slipper

Superhuman Accessory (Blue)

Jewelry - Badge

Spell: Rally (Once daily, 1/1)

Requirement: Any Level 1

Instant, Contact, Immediate Effect

“—I may save you from a stumble, but I’m powerless against a fall.”

Though less useful for wheelchair-bound Aiwas, it was valuable for Lily and Isabel.

This was the easiest badge-type accessory players could get in early game quests.

Badges, unlike rings, necklaces, or bracelets, didn’t touch the skin, requiring finger contact to activate stored spells, making them less convenient.

Their complex craftsmanship and costly materials limited mana storage to minimal amounts for quick casting, resulting in weaker effects.

Such gear’s primary purpose was to raise the cost of counterfeiting.

Not all organizations’ proofs were badges—Red Nobility Society used discreet, practical rings.

Due to the Balance path, only one item per gear slot could be worn, making useful badges rare.

For the White Slipper Club, players needed Friendly reputation to buy this from the reputation shop.-game control-breaking gear, though only for soft controls.

The badge’s inscribed message was meaningful, hinting at both the gear and the club’s nature.

The club seemed like an alumni network but was a loose political society.

It could handle small troubles and share resources, but for major issues, it would cut ties.

[A preemptive disavowal upon joining.]

Seeing Aiwas, Isabel, and Lily complete the process, Aiden sighed in relief.

“Please come with me, Aiwas… I’m begging you!”

He clasped his hands earnestly. “She’s probably upstairs… like I said on the way, please help me explain! Thank you, Aiwas! Honestly, after class, I forgot everything you said this morning!”

On the way from class, Aiden had explained his situation.

His desperate plea for help earned classmates’ mockery, but they congratulated him for “finally finding someone he likes.”

Isabel hesitated, wanting to follow Aiwas but unsure if she’d be a burden.

Taking a potentially volatile princess to meet a stranger was heavy pressure.

“Stay here for now,” Aiwas said gently. “I’ll help Aiden with his relationship issue…”

Mainly, he wanted to see if Aiden’s troublemaker was the bad woman from his memories.

Isabel, relieved, agreed.

Interacting with strangers was tough for her.

But as they prepared to part, a crowd’s gasps and the abrupt halt of violin music interrupted them.

All eyes turned.

Someone had fallen from the second-floor railing.

Not a student but a balding middle-aged man with gold-rimmed glasses, clutching documents.

He hit the floor heavily, without a cry, only a dull thud.

Papers scattered like snow.

From just the second floor, he lay convulsing briefly, then stilled, black blood seeping from his mouth and nose.

A tiny, dark-gold dagger—more like a needle, handleless, the size of a nail file—pierced his clothes and lodged in his back.

Aiwas frowned, looking up to the second floor.

No suspicious figures.

Something was off.

This plot never happened in his past life’s memories.

The key question: what had he done to alter the story here?

(Chapter End)