The closer one got to Jadecrest Academy, the more prosperous Herald’s commercial district became.
Naturally, the farther one strayed, the more deserted it got.
Take the street in front of Sheffil, for example—out of ten storefronts, nine were shut tight.
A few scattered elderly folks sat idly by their self-made stalls, absentmindedly tending to their goods.
Following the directions from the Seven Fools with colored hair, Sheffil walked straight through the main street, turned into an alley, and finally stopped in front of a small house.
[Dorothy’s Fan Club!]
Sheffil stood in front of the tiny building.
A banner hung above the door, the words written in large, enthusiastic script.
At first glance, everything seemed perfectly fine.
But if one looked closely, they’d notice a small but telling detail: the exclamation mark at the end of “Dorothy’s Fan Club!”
“So that’s it… Not exactly fake, but definitely not the real deal either.”
Sheffil stroked his chin as he stared at the tightly shut door.
The shop was a knockoff, but the products really were made by [Dorothy’s Fan Club!]—with that tiny punctuation mark.
So technically, they weren’t counterfeit.
If they were sneaky enough to modify the name, then of course their merchandise would’ve been altered to match.
Those poor guys who got scammed were probably never getting their money back.
But what did any of this have to do with Sheffil?
Right now, his only goal was to find that imposter—the so-called “Miss Sheffil”—and use the toe of his boot to thoroughly introduce her backside to justice.
So priority number one was catching her and clearing his name.
What happened to “Miss Sheffil” afterward?
That wasn’t his problem.
Snapping back to the moment, Sheffil tried knocking on the door.
When no one responded, he sank into thought again.
According to those fools, it all started about a month ago when they saw an ad in the newspaper from [Dorothy’s Fan Club!].
It claimed that a batch of unsold “Dorothy Impression Limited Edition Jackets” would be sold off.
As die-hard Dorothy fans, the Seven Fools had long regretted missing the first batch due to being stuck at a construction site a day’s journey from Jadecrest.
This time, they jumped at the chance—lining up before dawn in this remote alley.
But even arriving early, they found the line already snaking all the way back to the main street.
They waited until the sun rose before finally laying eyes on the so-called childhood friend of Dorothy—Miss Sheffil.
According to them, she looked just like the rumors said: tall and slender, with black hair streaked with a touch of white, wearing the girls’ second-year uniform, and a pair of pale blue eyes as calm as a still lake.
Her expression always carried a touch of cold detachment.
In personality, she was the complete opposite of Dorothy—but just like her, unmistakably beautiful.
What a joke.
Sheffil felt sick.
“We’ve been living here for a year, and we’ve argued with who knows how many people about pairings like ‘Dorothy x Lucia,’ ‘Dorothy x Jianle,’ ‘Jianle x Dorothy,’ ‘Lucia x Dorothy,’ ‘Phylline x Dorothy,’ and on and on… You really think Dorothy’s childhood friend would be a guy? Come on!”
When Sheffil suggested the possibility that he was the real one and not a “Miss,” they scoffed, their arrogance making him question—just briefly—why he wasn’t born a girl.
As an aside, despite their thug-like appearances, those seven goons were fans of sweet, innocent Dorothy x Lucia pairings—the kind of people who’d dump all their money on artists who drew them.
Even though Lady Lu was on the verge of being written out, Sheffil hoped the seven of them wouldn’t demand refunds when she finally kicked the bucket.
But back to the point.
This new life-sized Dorothy poster was also advertised in the newspaper.
And while those seven had already cursed “Miss Sheffil” and her family a hundred times over, they still ended up buying it. A classic case of “insult first, purchase later.”
What was Dorothy merch—a religion?
According to the paper, the store would open at 1 PM today.
Though it called itself the headquarters of Dorothy’s fan base, it was really just a knockoff merch outlet.
And the fake Sheffil would show up as the “shopkeeper.”
But something didn’t add up.
Last time, the line was massive by dawn.
Yet now, with the clock nearing 1 PM, there wasn’t a single soul in sight.
Could it be that the fake jackets were more appealing than a life-sized Dorothy poster?
What kind of fake fans were these?
No wonder the real Dorothy Fan Club couldn’t find a loyal base—they deserved to be scammed.
“Yo? Kid—you looking for little Sheffil?”
A gruff voice came from behind as Sheffil silently judged the fake fans.
He turned, startled.
An old man stood behind him, seemingly in his fifties or sixties, his hair entirely white and messily cropped.
Despite his age, his bulky muscles showed no sign of weakness.
He wore a simple linen tunic, half-draped over one shoulder, and his face bore smudges of soot.
Was he the local blacksmith?
And—”little Sheffil”?
Sheffil twitched.
Being called that by a grandpa-tier stranger was almost too much.
So this imposter wasn’t just pretending to be him during sales—but even in daily life?
“Judging by your look, I’m guessing you came to buy something from her?” the old man said, glancing Sheffil up and down.
“Little Sheffil said something came up last minute. The store won’t be opening today. Told us old folks on the street to pass the word.”
“Last minute, huh? What bad timing. Does she live here?”
“Nope. This is just her store. But ever since she opened up, she’s been getting regulars. Anyway, if you’re planning on asking more, I’m not answering.”
As he finished, the old man narrowed his eyes, revealing a flash of barely concealed hostility.
Just as silently as he appeared, he slipped into the shadows of the alley.
“I’ve been marked.”
Not just him—but anyone who came looking for “Sheffil.”
They probably assumed he had bad intentions.
From the old man’s tone, the locals seemed to like the fake Sheffil quite a lot.
But at least now, there was one thing Sheffil could confirm.
“Sheffil—I know you’re watching.”
“You’ve been using my name to run your scam for this long, and I hadn’t even heard a whisper about it.”
“The moment I came looking, you disappeared.”
“You’ve been keeping tabs on me, haven’t you?”
“But I don’t care… whether you’re doing this out of malice or some weird twisted motive…”
If he hadn’t deliberately kept himself confined to the role of the side character in a yuri world…
“Just don’t—don’t let me catch you!”
With a roar, Sheffil activated his Tier-4 magic.
The force of his punch tore through the shop’s door like paper, turning the humble storefront into a pile of rubble.
He might’ve become the classic villain long ago: ruthless, domineering, feared by all.
“A rare bit of fun… I’ll make sure to savor it.”
“Better run with everything you’ve got, little Sheffil~”
With those words, Sheffil disappeared down the alley.
He wasn’t going to tell Dorothy.
It was rare to find someone who wasn’t using her name to stir up trouble.
How could he let such a rare specimen off so easily?
Premium Chapter
Login to buy access to this Chapter.