"So now... what do we do?"
Nathalie's voice was as steady as ever, but a rare, cold anger shone in her sharp eyes, always hidden behind her glasses.
She wasn't just Gabriel's assistant; to some extent, she regarded Adrien as her own family.
She had witnessed firsthand how the young man, under his father's strict tutelage, cautiously and eagerly sought out even a tiny bit of freedom and friendship.
Jaden's appearance, and the acceptance from Kim and Nino, were like a ray of sunshine in Adrien's grey world.
And now, Felix, this unwelcome guest, was trying to destroy it all in the most despicable way.
This was something she absolutely could not tolerate.
A cruel yet elegant smile played on Gabriel's lips.
He slowly turned, his back to the massive design sketch, his entire body enveloped in the shadows cast by the floor-to-ceiling windows, leaving only a tall and dangerous silhouette.
"Naturally... we'll let him experience firsthand Paris's most enthusiastic, most traditional 'welcome culture.'"
His voice became unusually steady, but every word was steeped in a chilling coldness that made one shudder.
"It's also time to make him understand who, exactly... is in charge in this city."
In his view, Felix was not just provoking Adrien and Jaden, but also provoking him—Gabriel, the true emperor of this city's dark side.
This kid from London dared to brazenly manipulate his carefully placed pawns on his territory.
He would absolutely not allow any unexpected, foolish variables to appear in the grand game he had meticulously set up for Emilie, with Jaden at its core.
"'Heavy' or 'light'?" Nathalie asked calmly, confirming the degree of the instruction.
A "lesson," or... something more?
Gabriel shook his head, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes.
"First, give him a lesson."
"I need to make him understand fear, make him rein in those unwarranted clever schemes.
But..."
His tone shifted, and the killing intent in his voice, almost solidifying, seemed to drop the temperature of the entire studio by several degrees, "If he doesn't listen next time, I'll... erase him completely."
Hearing the word "erase," Nathalie's body trembled slightly.
She knew Gabriel didn't mean simple social death, but... literally, to completely disappear from this world.
Felix's birth was, in itself, a tragic miracle.
Years ago, Gabriel and his wife Emilie longed for a child, but due to Emilie's physical condition, they were unable to conceive.
When they returned to Emilie's family, they despairingly discovered that Emilie's twin sister—Emilie—also couldn't get pregnant. The parents of the two sisters had consulted countless famous doctors, all to no avail.
In desperation, Emilie used the damaged peacock miraculous, condensing all her love and hope into an emotional monster, and the concretization of this monster was Adrien.
Adrien's birth was a miracle created with Emilie's life as a "sacrifice" and her family heirloom wedding ring as a medium.
However, when Amelie's ambitious husband learned of this, jealousy and resentment completely consumed him.
He pressed Gabriel, saying that Amelie was the one who should have everything.
He pressed Gabriel for the truth about the child's origin.
Gabriel only said it was a "miracle," but he didn't believe him.
Under endless entanglement and threats, Gabriel finally... lent him the damaged peacock miraculous.
And so, Felix was born in the same way.
As long as Gabriel willed it, he could use the power of the peacock miraculous to reverse the process of "creation," decomposing that "being" composed of emotions back into nothingness.
"But, Gabriel, the cost of doing that is too great."
Nathalie's face was filled with worry, "The peacock miraculous is damaged; every use causes a huge backlash to the wielder.
Emilie was because..."
"This is a last resort." Gabriel coldly interrupted her, his voice filled with unquestionable killing intent,
"I will not allow anyone or anything to stand in my way of bringing Emilie back. Felix is no exception."
The air in the studio became incredibly heavy because of his words.
Nathalie fell silent.
She knew that when Gabriel said those words, any persuasion would be futile.
"I understand."
"You can go now." Gabriel waved his hand, "I need to... find a suitable target."
"Are those students?" Nathalie asked.
At present, the strongest negative emotions caused by the video were undoubtedly from the students in the hotel.
"No."
Gabriel shook his head, a calculating smile once again playing on his lips, "Although the children's emotions are intense right now, they are too scattered.
Don't worry, I believe... our esteemed 'Miraculous Queen' can find us the most qualified and perfect executor."
The "Miraculous Queen" he referred to was, of course, Chloé. Using her to punish another person who had angered him was a perfect plan killing two birds with one stone.
"I understand." Nathalie nodded and turned to leave the studio.
She gently closed the door, standing guard like the most loyal sentinel, ensuring that no one would disturb them while the "welcome culture" was being enacted.
However, she had barely settled when a figure elegantly approached from the other end of the corridor. It was Amelie, Felix's mother.
She wore a well-tailored black dress, her face identical to Amelie's in the portrait, but her demeanor was colder and more glamorous, her eyes holding less tenderness and more sharpness.
"Nathalie," she stopped in front of Nathalie, her gaze sweeping over the closed door, "What is Gabriel doing in there?"
"Madam Emilie." Nathalie bowed slightly, her tone serious and formal, "Sir has very urgent matters to attend to right now.
He has given instructions that no one is allowed near. You should be resting in your room, not wandering around here."
Amelie's eyebrow twitched slightly. She looked at Nathalie's unyielding face and ultimately did not press further.
She simply nodded faintly, "Alright." Then she turned and returned to her room... Inside the studio, Gabriel had already transformed. The purple suit, the silver mask, and the iconic cane.
Using advanced technology, his holographic projection was precisely cast into the top-floor royal suite of the Paris Grand Hotel.
In the suite, Chloé, like a true queen, lay languidly on the sofa, enjoying the manicure service Sabrina was providing for her.
Suddenly, Sabrina, who was applying nail polish for her, let out a short scream.
"Ah! Chloé!"
"What's wrong? Why the fuss?!" Chloé opened her eyes in displeasure, about to scold her, but then saw Sabrina pointing in front of her in terror.
She followed the direction of her finger, and her phone "clattered" onto the soft carpet.
In the air before them, a perfectly clear holographic projection, composed of countless purple light dots, hung silently. It was Hawk Moth after his transformation.
"What kind of evil wind is blowing today?" Chloé quickly composed herself after the initial shock.
She didn't even get up from the sofa,
"A rare guest, Hawk Moth. What, not staying in your rat hole, running to me for what?"
He looked at Chloé's defiant demeanor, and the corner of his mouth under the mask curled slightly upward.
"It seems Her Miraculous Queen's mood is good today."
His disguised, magnetic voice echoed in the room, "However, don't you understand what's happening outside?"
"What big deal could there be?"
Chloé pouted, a look of disdain on her face, "Isn't it just some hot-headed unlucky person you've turned into a monster again, causing destruction on the streets of Paris?
I'm already tired of seeing this."
"Oh?" Hawk Moth's tone took on a hint of amusement, "Then, what about the messages in your class group? Haven't you seen those either?"
"Class group?" Chloé frowned, reluctantly bending down to pick up her phone from the floor.
She usually had no interest in such boring student messages, but hearing Hawk Moth specifically mention it, she clicked it open.
With just one glance, the laziness and disdain on her face instantly vanished without a trace.
In the video, it was "Adrien."
But that cold gaze, that arrogant tone... Chloé reacted almost instantly.
She and Adrien had known each other since childhood; she understood the golden-haired boy's personality too well.
Adrien was kind, gentle, even a little naive; he would absolutely, absolutely never say such vicious words to Jaden—one of the few friends he himself acknowledged.
So, there was only one answer.
"Felix..."
Chloé squeezed the name through her teeth, a flash of disgust in her eyes.
That perpetually gloomy, two-faced cousin of Adrien's, she had disliked him since childhood.
"You know him?" Hawk Moth asked, feigning ignorance.
"Of course." Chloé snorted, "Just a Londoner who only knows how to play petty tricks from the gutter."
She put down her phone and redirected her gaze to Hawk Moth, her eyes sharpening, "So what?
You specifically came to tell me this; are you planning to... give your Akuma Butterfly to me?
Want me to teach that ignorant fellow a lesson?"
Hawk Moth slowly shook his head.
"No, Your Miraculous Queen. This time, the Akuma Butterfly... is not for you."
"What?!"
Chloé shot up from the sofa, her voice rising eight octaves, "At such a perfect moment, full of negative emotions, if you don't give the power to me, who else could you give it to?!
Do you want to dark transform those useless passersby?!"
"Yes, my Miraculous Queen."
Hawk Moth's holographic projection bowed slightly; in that elegant posture, there was an unyielding resolve.
Chloé abruptly stood up from the sofa; she felt slighted, fooled.
A raging fire, mixed with jealousy and resentment, burned fiercely in her chest.
She paced back and forth on the carpet in her high heels, her golden curls swaying with her agitated movements, like an enraged lioness.
"At this critical moment!"
Her sharp voice echoed through the luxurious suite, "I! The Miraculous Queen of this city, of course, must step forward to 'punish evil and promote good,' to protect (dark transform) my knight!
And you're telling me now is not the time to give me power?!"
"Yes, now is not the most perfect moment." Hawk Moth's voice remained steady, as if Chloé's towering rage was merely a gentle breeze to him.
"Not the perfect moment?!"
Chloé stopped, hands on her hips, glaring at the projection with a look of utter disbelief,
"Then you tell me, what is the perfect moment?!"
She extended her finger, adorned with exquisite nail polish, and began to list her classmates as if counting treasures, each name leaving her lips with undisguised contempt and disdain.
"Look at who's in our class?
Besides the loyal Sabrina and me, the rest are either four freaks (Mylène, the mime's daughter; Alya, the sports fanatic; and Rose, that pink airhead, and her gloomy friend Juleka),
Or that DJ (Nino) who's always wearing headphones, and a bookworm (Max) who only knows arithmetic!"
"And that baker (Marinette), that poor writer (Marc) who writes inexplicable things all day, that red-headed monster (Nathan) who only knows how to draw, that gossipy girl (Alya) with her four-eyed glasses, and that simple-minded sports idiot (Kim)!"
Finally, she directed her spearhead at the center of her love-hate relationship.
"And my knight! Jaden! He's been dark transformed by you three times!
Three whole times! Each time, he got involved with different, disreputable girls!
Now, it's finally time for me, the true Miraculous Queen, to make my appearance, isn't it?!
And you're telling me now is not the time?!"
She cried out a question from the depths of her soul, her voice so sharp it almost pierced one's eardrums.
"But it's still not the optimal moment." Hawk Moth still brushed her off with that light-hearted phrase.
"Then you tell me, what exactly is 'the optimal moment'?!"
Chloé retorted, almost driven mad with anger.
Hawk Moth seemed to have anticipated her question. His projection moved slightly forward, his voice becoming deep and alluring, like a devil whispering in one's ear.
"No need to worry, my esteemed Queen. Your stage is destined to be brilliant and world-renowned.
What you are waiting for is not these petty skirmishes. What you are waiting for is for your knight to personally crown you with victory.
What you are waiting for is the moment when the luxurious castle you desire, belonging only to the two of you, rises amidst the cheers of the admiring crowd.
That will be the 'best time' for you—Miraculous Queen—to descend upon Paris."
These words, full of exaggerated rhetoric and grand promises, precisely struck the deepest vanity and longing within Chloé's heart.
She fantasized about that scene: atop the Eiffel Tower, Jaden kneeling, presenting her with a diamond-encrusted crown, while all of Paris cheered for her... The anger on her face gradually dissipated, replaced by a hint of yearning and smugness.
"Alright, alright," she waved her hand, feigning impatience, and sat back on the sofa, "I'll... reluctantly agree."
She raised her chin and asked, "Tell me, besides that scoundrel Felix's matter, why else have you suddenly come to me?"
"Besides this matter, what else could there be?" Hawk Moth's projection chuckled, "My Queen, because of Felix's actions, the negative emotions of your classmates are currently overflowing.
Before I dark transform them, shouldn't I first consult with you, the true 'Queen'?"
This perfectly timed flattery made Chloé's heart blossom with joy.
She felt her authority was respected like never before, and a satisfied smile appeared on her face.
"Hmm... you know what's good for you." She nodded, then, as if suddenly remembering something, immediately added in a commanding tone, "But! No females can be dark transformed!"
"Oh?"
"I don't want my knight to be entangled with those disreputable women again, and dark transformed along with them!" Chloé's tone was full of undisguised possessiveness.
"That goes without saying," Hawk Moth immediately echoed.
Anyway, he hadn't planned to dark transform the girls around Jaden right now; that would disrupt his deeper plans.
"Hmm... as for those boys..." Chloé stroked her chin, contemplating, "Forget it, they all look stupid to death, and dark transforming them wouldn't be of much value, so I won't bother them."
"The Queen is wise," Hawk Moth offered another compliment.
Chloé seemed to lose interest in worrying about these "small matters." But Hawk Moth continued to guide the conversation.
"However... Your Majesty, I just sensed a faint, yet persistent, negative emotion near your hotel."
"Faint negative emotion?" Chloé frowned, then, as if remembering something, a hint of disgust appeared on her face, "That dead paparazzi, is he still here?"
The "dead paparazzi" she referred to was, of course, Vincent, the fan who had been kicked out by Jagged Stone for his obsessive stargazing.
"It seems he's still lurking near my hotel, with his evil intentions," Chloé said disdainfully.
"Then, he is the target of my visit," Hawk Moth announced.
"Do whatever you want," Chloé lazily leaned back on the sofa, as if the matter had nothing to do with her.
She called out to Sabrina, "Go out and tell Jean to get me a butterfly!"
Sabrina paused for a moment but immediately responded, trotting out of the room.
She went into the hallway and found the old butler, Armand, meticulously polishing a silver candlestick.
"Butler Armand..."
"Miss Sabrina, is there something you need?" Armand stopped what he was doing and asked gently.
"Um... Chloé... she said she wants a butterfly."
Sabrina relayed the strange instruction with some nervousness.
Hearing the word "butterfly," a subtle, knowing glint flashed in Armand's eyes.
He immediately understood.
A few days ago, Miss Chloé had inexplicably acquired several pots of strange green plants, placing them in her sunroom, and specifically instructed the hotel's gardener to "take good care" of them.
On these green plants, several white, translucent chrysalises were attached.
At first, no one paid attention.
But just yesterday, the chrysalises hatched.
When Armand saw the pure white butterflies flying out of the cocoons, his weathered heart sank.
He was all too familiar with these butterflies.
He had seen them countless times in news reports about "Akumatized Persons." They were the purified form of the Akuma Butterfly.
He knew there must be a huge secret involved. But he also knew that as a qualified butler, he understood what to ask and what not to ask.
"Very well, Miss Sabrina, please wait a moment." He didn't ask another question, simply bowed slightly, then turned and walked towards a hidden storage room in the hotel.
A moment later, he returned.
In his hands, he carried a delicate porcelain plate covered with a silver lid. He handed the plate to Sabrina.
Sabrina returned to the suite and carefully opened the silver lid.
In the center of the plate, a pure white butterfly rested silently, its wings motionless, like a exquisite work of art.
In the center of the room, Hawk Moth's holographic projection still hovered.
He slowly beckoned to the white butterfly.
As if summoned by some mysterious power, the white butterfly gently flapped its wings, rose from the plate, and slowly, obediently, flew towards Hawk Moth's virtual palm, formed of light points.
Hawk Moth extended his other virtual hand and slowly covered it. Purplish-black, ominous energy instantly completely engulfed the pure white.
The butterfly's wings trembled slightly in Hawk Moth's virtual palm, like an ominous flame that had come to life.
Then, Hawk Moth's holographic projection performed an elegant and dramatic farewell gesture towards Chloé.
His body dissolved into countless purple light points, slowly dissipating into the air.
Inside the suite, the original luxurious yet hollow silence returned.
The Akuma Butterfly, as if receiving a silent command, flapped its wings, lightly pierced through the thick floor-to-ceiling glass, and like a black lightning bolt, vanished beneath Paris's azure sky.
Sabrina looked in the direction the butterfly flew, her face pale. She couldn't help but grab Chloé's sleeve and asked in a tearful, trembling voice, "Chloé... is... is this really going to be okay?
We... we released an Akuma Butterfly..."
Chloé, however, acted as if nothing had happened, lazily sinking back into the soft sofa, picking up her phone, and continuing to scroll through the latest fashion news.
She didn't even lift an eyelid, only letting out a disdainful snort from her nose.
"What's the problem?" Her tone was dismissive, as if discussing which macaron to have for afternoon tea.
"Anyway, it's just dark transforming a clueless paparazzi.
That guy's obsession is nothing more than Jagged Stone. Even if he turns the world upside down, what does it have to do with me?"
She rolled over, found a more comfortable position, and nonchalantly added, "Besides, Ladybug and Cat Noir, those two busybodies, will stop him anyway.
We can just sit here and enjoy a free show, can't we?"
Her words were so matter-of-fact, so cold and heartless.
In her world, the suffering and struggles of ordinary people were merely seasonings to add a touch of amusement to her mundane life.
Sabrina looked at her, and the faint unease of conscience within her was completely overwhelmed by fear and long-standing subservience.
She lowered her head, not daring to say another word, and resignedly picked up the nail polish, resuming the unfinished manicure service for her Queen... At the street corner outside the Paris Grand Hotel, behind a hidden bush.
Vincent, like an experienced hunter, half-crouched in the shadows, curling his body as small as possible.
His eyes were bloodshot, and he was in a state of high excitement and extreme paranoia.
His entire world was condensed within the telephoto lens of the professional camera in his hand.
The lens was aimed directly at the hotel's magnificent golden entrance.
"Come out, Jagged Stone... my idol..." he murmured, his voice hoarse and full of longing.
"Just one... I only need one perfect photo together... As soon as I get it, I'll leave immediately, I swear..."
His obsession had become an almost pathological belief.
For this one photo, he could go without food or drink, he could lurk here all day, enduring the security guards' expulsions and the strange looks from passersby.
He stared intently through the viewfinder, so much so that he completely failed to notice a black butterfly, like a phantom, silently descending behind him.
The butterfly made no sound, simply landing lightly and precisely on the lens of his beloved camera.
"Buzz—"
Vincent's body trembled violently, as if struck by a powerful electric current.
He felt his soul seized by that cold power, then dragged into a bottomless, echoing dark space.
"Pixelator..." The voice carried a peculiar magic, as if it could see through his deepest desires.
"I am Hawk Moth. You long to capture those perfect smiles, to forever freeze your idol's image within your frame.
But they shut you out, denying you even a single chance to get close."
"No... it's not like that... Jagged Stone, he's just... too busy..." Vincent, in the depths of his consciousness, was still making futile excuses.
"No, they just look down on you." Hawk Moth's voice became stern and highly inciting, "If you want to take more, more precious photos, if you want all celebrities to open their doors to you, then you need a 'bargaining chip' of sufficient weight."
"Bargaining chip...?" Vincent's consciousness had already begun to be assimilated by this power.
"Exactly." Hawk Moth coaxed, "A bargaining chip that can make all of Paris tremble.
A bargaining chip... that can make even the fashion emperor Gabriel bow to you."
"Who is it?" the agitated Vincent eagerly asked.
"The sole heir of the Agreste Group—Adrien." Hawk Moth threw out the name he had already prepared, "As long as you use the power I bestow upon you to 'store' him in your private space.
Then Gabriel, who has always protected his son so closely, will inevitably use all the power of his group to satisfy any of your demands."
Hawk Moth's voice, full of seductive magic, painted an incredibly beautiful blueprint for Vincent.
"Imagine, Pixelator.
By then, not to mention one Jagged Stone, celebrities from all over the world will be lining up, waiting for you to photograph them.
You will become the greatest photographer in this world!"
"The... the greatest photographer..." In Vincent's eyes, the last shred of rationality was swallowed by this immense temptation.
"Perfect... absolutely perfect!" He let out a cry mixed with ecstasy and longing.
Purplish-black energy instantly erupted from the center of the lens.
The energy, like living ink, rapidly spread along the camera body, instantly engulfing him completely.
When the energy dissipated, behind the bush, the originally disheveled and downtrodden paparazzi had disappeared.
In his place was a new villain, brimming with futuristic technology.
His formerly messy hair had transformed into distinct, code-like, neat pinkish-purple strands.
He was covered in a black and blue, streamlined, tight-fitting battle suit.
The most striking feature on his face was the high-tech goggle covering his right eye, equipped with a single lens.
Dangerous, phosphorescent green data streams flickered on the lens.
He slowly stood up, stretched his limbs, and felt the unprecedented surge of powerful energy within him.
He raised his hand and lightly pressed a hidden button on his left ear.
"Buzz—"
His right eye's goggle instantly emitted a soft sound, the lens retracted like a camera shutter, and a tiny, almost invisible laser shot out, precisely hitting a pigeon pecking at breadcrumbs in the distance.
The pigeon didn't even have time to let out a cry of distress; its body instantly decomposed into countless blue, pixelated data cubes, then with a "whoosh," it was sucked into Pixelator's goggle, disappearing without a trace.
Pixelator watched this magical scene before him, a fervent and satisfied smile on his face.
He knew that in his own home, a blank photo frame now held a lifelike "photo" of a pigeon, forever captured.
He turned around, casting his gaze towards the center of Paris, where his ultimate destination for this trip, the Agreste Mansion, was located.
"Adrien..."
He murmured the name, a smile full of obsession and madness spreading across his lips, "Soon, you will become my most precious... collection."
With that, he pushed off with his legs, and like an arrow shot from a bow, he transformed into a black and blue afterimage, rushing swiftly towards the Agreste Mansion!
Meanwhile, on the first floor of the Dupain-Cheng family bakery, the warm, sweet aroma in the air seemed to melt one's heart.
When Jaden and Marinette came downstairs with the two pairs of sunglasses, crafted with their heart and talent, Tom was humming a cheerful Italian tune while kneading a giant dough, while Sabine was meticulously piping the final cream lace onto an exquisite Opera Cake.
"Dad, Mom, we're leaving!" Marinette's voice still carried a hint of excitement.
"Be careful on your way, darling!" Tom raised his sturdy, flour-dusted arm and waved affectionately.
Sabine looked up, her gaze, gentle through her glasses, falling on Jaden, and she smiled and nodded.
Jaden and Marinette waved goodbye to them again and walked out of the bakery side by side.
The bell on the door chimed crisply, then quickly fell silent.
Inside the shop, Tom stopped his work and nudged his wife with his elbow, a father's unique, somewhat silly, proud smile on his face: "My dear, did you see that?
Our precious daughter finally has such a reliable young man by her side.
Look, that child Jaden, he's so steady."
"Indeed."
Sabine put down her piping bag and nodded in agreement.
But in her eyes, a subtle, almost academic curiosity flickered, "I just don't know where this child is from."
Tom scratched his thick hair and said, "Oh, I think Marinette mentioned it once. She said Jaden is from the same country as you, right?"
Sabine, hearing this, slowly shook her head. She looked towards the door, as if her gaze could penetrate the door panel and see the departing back of the young man.
"Not entirely the same."
She said softly, "Most of my compatriots have deep brown pupils.
But that child's eyes... are a pure, obsidian-like color. Very unique."
Tom was a bit puzzled, but Sabine quickly changed the subject, a gentle smile returning to her face: "However, none of that matters.
As long as our Marinette likes him, as long as he's a good child, that's enough."
Tom immediately nodded vigorously, indicating complete agreement... Walking towards the hotel, the afternoon sun in Paris was warm and gentle.
Marinette held the two pairs of sunglasses, turning her head to secretly look at Jaden's calm profile beside her.
Her heart, at this moment, was like a pot of boiling water, gurgling and bubbling.
She had so much she wanted to say.
She wanted to comfort him, to tell him not to take Adrien's excessive words to heart, and to loudly declare that she would always stand by him.
However, these words became a tangled mess when they reached her lips, leaving her unsure where to begin.
Her small face wrinkled slightly with her internal struggle, her lips opened and closed, closed and opened, and in the end, she still couldn't squeeze out a complete sentence.
Just as she was so anxious she almost bit her tongue, Jaden seemed to sense her predicament and spoke first.
"Are you thinking about that video just now?" His voice was as gentle as ever, without a hint of anger or sadness.
"Hmm!" Marinette, like a startled rabbit whose tail had been stepped on, jumped suddenly, then nodded vigorously, "Adrien... he was too much! You... don't be sad, we... we all don't believe what he said!"
Looking at her adorable appearance, full of righteous indignation yet carefully observing his expression, Jaden couldn't help but smile.
"I'm fine."
He said easily, "Don't worry about me."
His candor eased half of the burden in Marinette's heart, but at the same time, it made her even more empathetic.
In her opinion, Jaden must have been pretending to be strong.
The two walked in silence and soon returned to the Paris Grand Hotel.
They found Penny in the lobby, and when she saw the two pairs of sunglasses in Marinette's hand, a spark of pleasant surprise instantly erupted in her usually sharp eyes.
"Wow! Did you two make these?"
She took the two pairs of sunglasses, examining them repeatedly, her expression changing from surprise to genuine admiration, "These are simply... too cool! Marinette, you're a genius!"
"Thank you..." Marinette blushed a little from the praise and smiled shyly.
"Thank you so much, this has solved a huge problem for me!"
Penny said gratefully to Marinette, then grabbed the sunglasses and hurried upstairs towards Jagged Stone's suite.
And when Jaden and Marinette returned to the lounge where their classmates were gathered, they found the atmosphere there was like a powder keg about to explode.
Almost the entire class was gathered, each holding their phone, their faces displaying various complex emotions like anger, confusion, and disappointment, fiercely discussing the video they had just seen.
"I still can't believe it! Was that really Adrien? How could he become like this?"
Nino excitedly waved his arms, "Jaden is one of his best friends!"
"According to Marc's analysis, there are no traces of editing or fabrication in the video.
The subject's physiological indicators did not show characteristics of 'lying' when those words were spoken."
Max pushed up his glasses, calmly stating the data that even he found perplexing, "Logically, this is unreasonable."
"To hell with logic! The ungrateful guy!"
Alya kicked the sofa leg, indignant, "Jaden was so good to him, and this is how he repays his friend?"
"Exactly, exactly!" Mylène echoed from the side, her voice quiet but her tone equally full of condemnation.
"It's truly disappointing."
Rose shook her head sadly, her usually sunny face now filled with gloom.
Juleka, sitting beside her, remained silent, burying her face even deeper, emitting a cold aura.
Marc and Nathan, the artistic duo, also put down their paintbrushes.
"This is simply defiling the word 'friendship'." Nathan said, frowning.
"How could he do this?"
Marc's emotions were equally agitated.
"It's just the true colors of a spoiled rich young master being exposed, what's so surprising about that."
Alya said sharply, her arms crossed over her chest, but her gaze occasionally drifted towards Jaden and Marinette, who had just entered, filled with worry.
Even Kim was filled with righteous indignation: "This is too much! I'm going to confront him!"
Only Chloé remained indifferent, as if it had nothing to do with her.
She was enjoying Sabrina fanning her, oblivious to the surrounding noise.
In her opinion, it didn't matter what Adrien did; what was important was that this incident created a rift between Jaden and those "commoner" friends, which perhaps... was a good thing for her?
In this chaotic atmosphere, full of condemnation and anger, Jaden's phone suddenly rang again.
This time, it was a video call request.
Caller ID — Adrien.
The entire lounge instantly fell silent. Everyone's eyes were fixed on Jaden's phone screen.
Jaden pressed the answer button.
Adrien's handsome and anxious face appeared on the screen. The background still seemed to be a room in his house.
"Adrien! You scoundrel! What exactly do you mean?!"
Before Jaden could even speak, Nino couldn't help but rush over, shouting into the phone screen.
Everyone else also gathered around, ready to question him.
"No! Wait! Everyone, listen to me!"
Adrien on the other end of the video was sweating profusely, "The person in that video isn't me! That's my cousin, Felix!"
"Cousin?"
Alya raised an eyebrow suspiciously, "Felix? He looks so much like you?
Adrien, are you trying to fool us like three-year-olds?"
"It's true! Everything I'm saying is true!" Adrien couldn't defend himself.
"Adrien,"
Jaden, who had been silent, finally spoke.
His voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable strength, "Explain yourself clearly."
"Sigh!" Adrien on the other end of the video sighed helplessly, then began to explain quickly.
It turned out that just a moment ago, he and Felix were halfway through a chess game when he went to the restroom.
While he was washing his hands, Plagg, who had been hiding in his clothes, suddenly popped out and reminded him: "Hey, kid, there's one more thing I forgot to tell you.
Just now, your annoying-looking cousin secretly had your phone for a while."
Adrien's heart suddenly leaped. He immediately took out his phone, which for some reason was set to silent mode, and only then did he realize that his phone's messages had completely exploded.
In the class group chat, in his friends' private messages, all were messages questioning him "what he meant" and "why he said such terrible things to Jaden."
His mind buzzed, and he instantly understood. He didn't bother arguing with Plagg anymore, rushing straight back to the room,
and yanked Felix, who was still there pretending to be profound and contemplating the chess game, out of his chair.
"What exactly did you do?!" Adrien's eyes burned with unprecedented fury.
Felix initially looked innocent, shrugging his hands and saying he hadn't done anything.
"Didn't do anything?"
Adrien was so angry he laughed, "Then did all these things on my phone grow legs and run in by themselves?!"
He shoved the phone screen directly in front of Felix.
"You deleted the video, very clever. But you can't delete these reply messages!
Look! Look at what my friends are saying!"
Adrien's voice trembled with anger, "Now, immediately, right now! Apologize to me! Apologize to Jaden! Apologize to our entire class! Apologize to my friends!"
Felix looked at the words full of anger and condemnation, and still wanted to quibble a few more sentences.
But when he saw Adrien's eyes, which were almost spitting fire, he knew that this time he had truly gone too far.
He reluctantly chose to compromise... After finishing his explanation, Adrien turned the phone camera to the side.
Felix's face, identical to Adrien's, appeared in the video.
The arrogance on his face was gone, replaced by an extremely "sincere" apology.
"I'm sorry, Jaden. And... to all the students of François Dupont High School."
His voice sounded full of remorse, "The video just now was a prank born of a momentary impulse.
I extend my sincerest apologies for the harm my words and actions have caused everyone. Please... please forgive me."
After he finished speaking, he bowed deeply to the camera.
The video ended there... At the Agreste Mansion, Adrien hung up the phone, and the atmosphere in the room remained heavy.
His anger had subsided somewhat, but in its place was a deep weariness and confusion. He looked at his cousin, who was both familiar and strange, and asked: "Felix... why did you do this? I remember you weren't like this before."
Felix looked up, a complex emotion of jealousy and sadness showing in his eyes.
"I just... envied you."
He said softly, a hint of self-mockery in his voice, "After all, when my father was still alive, he never allowed me to do those things.
Like... making friends."