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The truth was, bringing Queen Lilith to the stall wasn’t just coincidence—or kindness. It was strategy.

With her presence, every eye turned. Whispers spread like wildfire. And once people saw her laughing at our table, savoring every bite, the attention shifted from curiosity to obsession.

The Queen of Pyronis—eating at a food stall? A food stall operated by students?

It beca an instant phenonon.

When Lilith eventually stood, thanked us with poise, and left with the others, the aftershock began.

The crowd didn’t just grow. It exploded.

The mont her silhouette vanished behind the Academy pillars, the mass of people outside surged. Lines that had been orderly now coiled around the courtyard like serpents.

They ca for different reasons. So to see the seat where Lilith sat. Others to taste what had impressed a Queen. Nobles, envoys, local rchants, travelers. Even students from other factions were pushing into the queue.

And so, I acted.

"Raise the prices," I said flatly.

Masha blinked. "To how much?"

"Start with five gold for standard items. Ten for VIP."

Noora stared. "That’s insane."

But it worked.

They didn’t care.

Instead of ordering a single bowl, they bought in bulk.

"For my fiancée!" one noble shouted.

"For the Duchess’s reception," another declared.

"I want six sets to send to the palace. Have it gift-wrapped!"

The price tag had beco a status symbol.

To afford our food now ant prestige.

Of course, not everyone was happy.

So faces in the line were disappointed. The whispers shifted—hopeful voices turning unsure.

My eyes scanned across the crowd until they landed on a boy—barely ten, maybe eleven—standing quietly near the end of the line. His shoulders were slumped. His eyes dim. He wasn’t glaring or angry. Just... resigned.

I called Seraphina over. "What’s his story?"

She glanced over. "He’s short on money. Said he only has 50 silver. Poor kid’s been waiting since morning. Didn’t want to leave without trying."

I walked up to him.

He stiffened.

"How much do you have?" I asked.

He looked up at . Big eyes. Trembling voice.

"F-Fifty silver. I saved it to buy sothing nice for my mom. But when I heard people in my city talking about your food... I ran here. Thought maybe... I could buy sothing. Just one dish."

He looked down. "But I guess I can’t."

I bent down and gently patted his head.

’I can see myself in this boy,’ I thought. The hunger. The quiet strength. The desire to give sothing aningful.

"This," I said quietly, "is too much money."

He looked shocked. "Huh?"

I smiled. "One silver coin. That’s all I need from you. And you can have anything you want."

His mouth fell open.

"Also," I added, "rember this. No gift will ever make your mother happier than hearing how much you love her. Don’t just give her presents. Give her every day of your love. Make her smile, because we never know how many days we have left."

Tears filled his eyes.

I turned to Seraphina. "Give him anything he asks for. Add a sweet bun on the house."

Seraphina nodded, trying not to smile too wide.

The boy ran forward, tears streaking his cheeks, and hugged my legs.

I gently peeled him off and sent him off with Seraphina.

But the eyes around us had already caught everything.

Nobles. Soldiers. rchants. Even a few cold-hearted politicians.

And now, they were quiet.

So looked away in sha. Others just nodded solemnly.

I moved back toward the stall.

Today wasn’t over yet.

Because today was the final event: the legendary spar between Rin and Rayne.

Two nas known across the continent. Two rising stars of the Academy.

Rin, the golden boy.

Rayne, the unpredictable prodigy.

Though Layla, Kali, and other stronger students existed, they never joined this event. Too much politics. Too little aning.

But Rin wanted eyes. And this match was designed to give him exactly that.

In the end, he would defeat Rayne.

And when the dust settled, sothing far more important would happen.

The King of the Vampire Dominion would secretly approach Rin.

He’d offer him a place in the Vampire Academy.

Rin would decline.

For now.

But in the future, he would accept.

That would be a different tale.

I was watching the tournant stage being prepared when a familiar voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Ashen, we’re in trouble."

I turned.

Layla.

Eyes wide. Slightly flustered.

"Trouble?" I asked.

She nodded. "The singer scheduled for the closing ceremony... she’s fallen ill. She can’t perform. We can’t find a replacent fast enough."

I blinked. "So?"

Layla hesitated.

"Lucielle said... you have a good voice."

"...Excuse ?"

"She said you sing well. And you’re the only one she trusts to perform sothing powerful enough to hold the attention of this crowd."

I stared at her.

"Absolutely not. No way. I’m not doing that."

Layla stepped forward. "Ashen—"

"Nope."

She grabbed my wrist.

"What if I erase your entire debt to ?" she whispered.

I froze.

Damn it.

Ashen might’ve been a decent singer. In my past life, sure. But ? Right now?

No training.

No practice.

No songs.

I was going to embarrass myself in front of half the continent.

And yet...

I sighed. "Fine. But no promises. If people throw rotten fruits at , I’m blaming you."

She smiled. "It’s okay. Just be present after the Rin vs Rayne match. I’ll handle the rest."

I rubbed my face. "Great. Can’t wait to die of sha."

Sowhere behind us, Masha chuckled.

"You know," she said from her seat, polishing a stack of clean bowls, "for soone who avoids attention, you keep finding ways to be at the center of everything."

"It’s not intentional," I muttered.

"Sure it isn’t," she replied with a knowing smile.

I turned away and stared at the sky. The sun was beginning its descent, casting an orange hue across the festival grounds. Laughter echoed. The scents of spiced at, roasted vegetables, and dessert buns filled the air.

But I wasn’t thinking about food.

I was thinking about humiliation.

What would I sing? I hadn’t sung anything in this life. In my past life, sure—I rembered lodies and lyrics from Earth. But that was long ago. Would those songs even make sense here? Would they connect with this world?

No. They wouldn’t.

I’d have to write sothing new.

Sothing raw. Sothing real.

But how? When?

My brain churned as I paced behind the stall. I avoided the rush, trusting the staff. Masha was organizing the boards. Julie barked sharp orders in the kitchen. Sasha was all smiles and fire, handling deliveries. Even Eren had beco oddly efficient.

I sighed.

"Why am I like this?" I murmured.

Back on the main stage, a bard troupe began testing instrunts. Mages were setting up sound barriers and light enchantnts. The final arena, glowing with silver runes, had begun to hum.

The whole Academy was bracing for the Rin vs Rayne match.

And afterward... my death by lody.

I found a quiet bench under a tree and sat down.

Yumi appeared, climbing up beside .

"You look grumpy," she said.

"I’m always grumpy."

"No. This is extra grumpy."

I didn’t respond.

She leaned her head against my arm.

"You’ll do great," she whispered.

"I haven’t even done anything yet."

"Exactly. That’s why it’ll be great. You always surprise people. That’s your thing."

I stared at her.

How did a six-year-old vampire girl understand better than most nobles?

"Thanks," I said.

She grinned. "Now go write your dumb song, dummy."

And so I did.

You are reading Not the Hero, Not the Villain — Just the One Who Wins Chapter 69: The Price of Kindness on novel69. Use the chapter navigation above or below to continue reading the latest translated chapters.
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