Tucked away in an abandoned prep room behind the third-floor science lab, Alex and his guardians gathered in a tight circle. Morning sunlight filtered through dusty blinds, illuminating six determined faces. They knew the casual tournament cover story from the previous week had bought them time, but to permanently kill off suspicion, they needed an airtight, official framework.
Alex, leaning against a counter, took charge of the conversation. "The rumors are dying down, but people are still asking questions whenever we step off campus," he said, his voice quiet but commanding. "We need a permanent cover—something fully backed by the school administration that gives us a valid reason to come and go as we please."
Hayato nodded, his sharp eyes flicking toward the cracked door to ensure no one was eavesdropping. "It has to be airtight. No gaps in attendance, no suspicious unaccounted hours. If a teacher checks the log, everything needs to look completely legitimate."
Angelo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "So we turn our absences into official school business. What if we register a club that naturally requires off-campus field research?"
Tatsuya's eyes lit up. "The Adventurers Society! We frame it as a historical and urban exploration club—scouting local landmarks, mapping historical sites, and documenting regional legends. It gives us an automatic excuse to leave campus during school hours for 'field research'."
Marco nodded, approving of the tactical setup. "And by keeping all paperwork filed directly through the student council, we align everything with school regulations. No administrator will question our absences if the permission slips are pre-approved."
Giovanni smirked, adjusting his coat. "I'll handle the documentation. A few well-placed photos from our actual trips around the district, some detailed field logs, and no one will doubt a single outing."
Over the next hour, the group meticulously built the foundation of their new cover. They assigned club officer roles matching their public personalities, drafted a realistic schedule that mirrored their family patrol duties, and even recruited two oblivious, unsuspecting classmates to pad the roster and guarantee official school recognition.
Within a week, the paperwork was signed, stamped, and approved by the principal's office.
Whenever the guardians needed to slip away for family business, a signed off-campus pass sat neatly on the faculty desk. Discussions in the hallways shifted from wild theories about secret syndicates to casual interest in the club's latest 'historical surveys.' The whispers vanished, replaced by the mundane rhythm of everyday student life.
Stepping out of the prep room and heading down the crowded hallway toward their next class, Alex exchanged a subtle, knowing glance with his guardians. They had successfully shielded their world from prying eyes, proving once again that their unity as the 10th Generation Luciano family was as sharp in the halls of high school as it was on the battlefield.