From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL) Chapter 100: The Leopard’s Quiet Hunt

Across the city, in the La Riviere company headquarters, Clyde Du Pont sat alone in his spacious office, elbows resting on the edge of his desk, one hand turning the pages of a thick report slowly.

His eyes moved sharply across the printed lines, pondering seriously.

The first part of the report was compiled from accounts collected from teachers, classmates, and so-called friends. Clyde’s lip twitched in faint amusent as he read the descriptions: arrogant, sharp-tongued, and a waste of potential.

Clyde flipped the page with a flick of his fingers, dismissing it entirely. He had seen the young man just once and knew none of that was relevant to him. Most people revealed their true selves not in comfort or pride, but in pain. When the mask slipped under pressure. Clyde, of all people, knew that too well.

Moving on, he studied the section regarding the boy’s academic qualifications. This was the second point.

Like what he had guessed, the boy had gotten into his major by his own talent, with no family interference or backdoor deals. He skimd through the cloth designs he had submitted for university acceptance, but none caught his eye as familiar.

So far, nothing connected him to his assumptions.

The third item in the report caught his attention. It was about the weekend of the mysterious bidding event. The boy was said to be on holiday during that ti. But there was a glaring problem.

"No travel records..." Clyde murmured.

There was no na of him leaving Isatic City through public transport, no flight, no train, and no bus ticket.

Clyde narrowed his eyes, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the desk.

This was a first clue.

He tapped the intercom. "Have the assistant look into the fan eting and the Royal Hotel again. I want everything cross-checked."

"Right away, Sir," ca the voice on the other end.

Asena’s WeChat account was SugerPlumFairyIsLoe’sWife. Sothing that made Clyde’s eyelid twitch.

"Unbelievable..." he murmured dryly. Whoever created that account had the sense of humour of a deranged child.

It was evident that it was not Micah’s real WeChat account. Finding that.... Clyde tapped on the desk. Emile could do it.

He didn’t have anything to relate Micah to Asena and the Royal Hotel.

He stared at the CCTV as Asena entered or left the Royal Hotel. Her long bangs fell over her face, and she wore a cap that obscured most of her features. The footage was frustratingly vague. He enlarged the images and zood in on the hands. No visible wounds, no bandages. He stared for a long ti, expression unreadable.

The second venue for the fan eting and the hotel where Leo was staying, Asena, had used the sa van as others. She might have deliberately avoided any thod that left a trace. Clever...

Clyde paused. Did she use her car? Or a taxi? To co to the Royal Hotel?

He quickly called his assistant to check. Maybe they could find out where he was staying.

"Check the vehicle surveillance records around the Royal Hotel that day. I want to know what car arrived at the loading zone. Prioritise taxis."

He ended the call, then exhaled, resting his hand against his lips in thought.

He glanced back at the photos on his tablet, still shots of Asena from different angles. There was no proof it was Micah. The posture wasn’t clear, and the disguise was through.

Aside from that, the Ramsy estate staff were tight-lipped. Not to ntion the family doctor.

He had a better shot if he let Emile snoop around and find the exact ti of his burned hand.

There was nothing remotely related to cross-dressing. Even cosplay as Asena, the she-wolf, seed like it was once.

No wonder Dean and Jacklin failed.

There was no clue about his relation to Aidan Wilson. Even that bidding was unrelated to Ramsy’s family business. A dead end.

But in the middle of it, sothing caught his eye. Micah’s involvent in the SAFA pharmaceutical scandal. Apparently, he had stood up against their heir, Silas Durant, protecting his friend’s right to access rare dicine.

When the stock fell, he had asked around and knew Albert Ramsy had a hand in it.

But the reason was surprising. Clyde’s lips curved slightly.

It was reckless, bold, and yet oddly loyal. A far cry from the spoiled brat others had described.

In the end, there was still no concrete proof tying him to Asena.

He had to hand it to that boy. He was really thorough.

Clyde sorted the information and put it away. There was a knock on the door.

"Co in."

"Little Uncle, Emile sent a ssage. They had arrived at university," Dean said, entering Clyde’s office.

"Good," Clyde said without looking up.

Dean hesitated, then spoke again. "Is it okay to let Emile hang out with him? That boy’s record is past black!"

At that, Clyde finally looked up. His cool eyes shifted to his nephew.

Dean felt a shiver run down his back. "What?"

"Are you in the habit of judging people based on re gossip, Dean?"

Dean’s expression turned grim. "Sorry, I don’t know why I was so sure... This never happened before," he said, confused by his own thinking. Jacklin and he had seen how baseless a rumour could be.

Clyde regarded him for a mont longer, then leaned back. "Tell Emile that he can get closer to Ramsy’s heir. Observe. Report. That’s all."

Dean nodded. "Understood."

There was a pause.

"Is there sothing else?" Dean asked.

"What are they doing now?" Clyde asked.

"It’s the first day of military training. They will be on campus for ten days. No leaving. Communication will also be limited." Dean said.

Clyde humd, satisfied. It was a good opportunity to dig deeper. Micah could not cover his tracks.

Dean blinked, unsure why his uncle’s mood had improved.

"That’s it. Go on with your work." Clyde said, already turning his eyes to his laptop.

Dean walked to the doorway and left the office quietly. Still puzzled by his uncle’s words.

Why should Emile get close to Ramsy’s heir? Observe what?! Report what?!