Scumbag Fate System-Chapter 82: Secrets (2)

Reinhard thought about it for five seconds.

And then made a decision after weighing the pros and cons.

Standing in the vault surrounded by Sirin’s desperate research, he realized that deflecting further would only drive her investigation deeper. She was too smart, and eventually she’d piece together enough fragments to form dangerous conclusions.

Better to give her the truth she could accept.

One that would satisfy her curiosity while protecting their current relationship.

"Let me take you to lunch," Reinhard said suddenly. "Somewhere private. I’ll explain what I can, but not here."

Sirin blinked in surprise. "You’ll tell me? But-"

"As much as I’m able to/" Reinhard confirmed. "But I need you to understand that some things can’t be fully explained. Not because I don’t trust you, but because I don’t have all the answers myself."

Her blue eyes shine with delight. "Thank you, Reinhard."

"Now let’s go after cleaning up." Reinhard began gathering books, carefully marking pages before closing them.

"Right!" 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

They worked in synchronized silence, returning ancient texts to their proper shelves and dispelling the glowing diagrams with a word from Sirin. Within twenty minutes, the vault looked undisturbed, no evidence that Sirin had spent hours here.

As they climbed the stairs back to ground level, they quickly headed to one of the academy’s smaller gardens. A secluded space behind the History Department building where few students ventured.

Stone benches sat beneath a willow tree, surrounded by late-blooming flowers that added splashes of color to the autumn landscape.

"Wait here," Reinhard said. "I’ll get food from the cafeteria."

He returned fifteen minutes later with sandwiches, fruit, and tea. Simple fare, but the privacy was worth more than any elaborate meal. They settled on adjacent benches, food spread between them, and for a moment neither spoke.

"First, I will explain how I found the method to help Yor."

Sirin nodded before leaning in. Reinhard took a breath, then began the story he’d carefully constructed.

"My father died when I was eight years old," he said quietly, watching Sirin’s expression shift to immediate sympathy. "Hunting accident. A tide of Fiends had attacked the town he was visiting, and by the time help arrived... Most of the inhabitants were dead."

The memory wasn’t entirely fabricated; he’d constructed it from fragments of truth and necessary lies. The system had provided basic family history when he’d asked, filling gaps in his inherited memories.

"I barely remember the funeral," Reinhard continued, his voice distant. "Just... standing there in formal clothes that itched. My stepmother, Elara, stood rigid beside me. And my half-brother Vincent smirked behind her back when no one was looking."

The images rose in his mind.

A small boy with black hair is standing before a grave marker. A woman in black with a cold, beautiful face that showed no tears. A slightly older boy with dark hair and his mother’s calculating eyes.

"Vincent was six months younger than me," Reinhard explained. "Born to Elara after my father married my birth mother. When my mother died giving birth to me, my father married Elara to give Vincent legitimacy and me a mother figure."

Sirin’s expression softens, replaced by dawning understanding. "But you were the legitimate heir because you were born to his legal first wife."

"Exactly." Reinhard met her eyes. "And Elara never forgave me for that. Or for the fact that my mother was the one my father actually loved."

"The day after the funeral, Elara started positioning Vincent as the proper heir," Reinhard said, his voice hardening slightly. "She convinced the household staff that I was too traumatized. That Vincent being ’more stable’ should be groomed for the Baron title instead."

He picked at his sandwich without eating. "She rewrote history. Made it seem like my mother had been a mistake, a brief infatuation before my father ’came to his senses’ and married his true love, Elara. Suddenly, everyone forgot that my mother was the actual Baroness."

"That’s despicable," Sirin breathed, her hand clenching on her teacup.

"My family hates me." Reinhard said, "Because I’m the legitimate heir of a dead wife they want to forget. Every birthday, every achievement, every moment I continued to exist was a reminder that Vincent wasn’t the true firstborn."

Sirin reached across the space between their benches to grasp Reinhard’s hand firmly.

"The classic stepmother scenario." She said quietly, but he noted irritation and anger in her tone. "Your father’s death allowed her to seize control. Without him to protect your mother’s memory and your claim, she could rewrite everything to favor her own son."

Her thumb brushed across his knuckles. "That must have been incredibly isolating. Growing up in a house where everyone wanted you to disappear."

The real sympathy in her voice might have made another person feel guilty for the manipulated narrative. But Reinhard had gotten too numb to creating such scenarios that it became irrelevant how the others felt anymore.

This was meant to help steer Sirin away from losing her mind for answers that didn’t exist.

"It was," Reinhard admitted, which was at least partially honest. "I learned early to keep secrets and hide what mattered. To never show weakness where others could exploit it."

"Is that why you came to the academy?" Sirin asked softly. "To escape them?"

"They sent me here hoping I’d fail," Reinhard said, letting bitterness color his tone. "That I’d prove I don’t deserve the Baron title. When I showed up at the awakening ceremony with no Sigil, I could already guess they celebrated back home. I received letters from Vincent describing how relieved everyone was that the ’false heir’ had finally been exposed."

Sirin’s grip on his hand tightened, anger flashing in her eyes. "That’s cruel."

"It gave them what they wanted-

"Proof that you were..." Sirin interjected before trailing off.

Yes, worthless." Reinhard took a breath, preparing the careful lie. "But before I left the house, I found my birth mother’s belongings. Hidden in an attic room that Elara had locked away."

He met Sirin’s eyes directly. "My mother had been a scholar. She studied sealing techniques, magical theory, and ancient patterns. Her research notes were extensive, years of work documenting methods that people have forgotten."

Sirin’s eyes widened. "The seals you used..."

"They came from something she found, I believe," Reinhard confirmed. "The patterns I used to help Yor and gain a Sigil... it was all there in my mother’s notes. Her last gift to me, even though she died before I could know her."

Sirin fell completely silent, her expression shifting through several emotions. Shock, sympathy, understanding, and something deeper that Reinhard couldn’t quite identify.

Internally, he catalogued her reactions. How she’d accepted the narrative without questioning inconsistencies. The half-truth had worked perfectly, enough reality to be believable, enough fabrication to hide the system.

She softened exactly as he’d predicted.

After several moments, Sirin’s expression hardened with fierce determination. "Then we’ll make sure you succeed so spectacularly at the Academy that they choke on their expectations. Vincent, Elara, all of them! They’ll have to watch you surpass everything they hoped you’d fail at."

She squeezed his hand one final time before releasing it. "And Reinhard? Thank you for trusting me with this. I know it wasn’t just about stopping my research."

Reinhard smiled. "I just don’t want you to lose your mind looking for answers that might not be there."

Sirin gave him a beautiful smile before caressing his face softly. "That’s fine. I just wanted to know more about you. The real you, not the mystery."

Reinhard found himself leaning into her touch slightly before reaching up to cup her face in return.

"Me too," he said quietly. "I’m actually curious... Why did you join the Resonance Club in the first place? And why are you so interested in Void Distortions specifically?"

Sirin blinked, clearly not expecting the question to turn back on her. She sighed, then gave him a smile he’d never seen on her face before.

One filled with regret.

"That’s..." she started, her voice dropping. "That’s a longer story than yours. And more complicated."

"We have time," Reinhard encouraged gently, his thumb brushing her cheekbone. "I’m also curious about you."

"I suppose, it’s only fair... "Sirin’s eyes grew distant, focusing on something only she could see. "Remember that founder I told you about?"

Reinhard nodded.

"It was my older sister who made it."