The Scum Emperor's Redemption System

[Ongoing Editing]

The library was Argider's favorite place to hide—not because she enjoyed reading, but because it was one of the few places people rarely bothered her. The towering shelves of books, the soft scent of parchment and ink, and the eerie silence all worked wonders for her overworked mind. She plopped herself onto a plush armchair near the back, eyes heavy with exhaustion.

"Finally," she muttered, sinking deeper into the cushion. "Peace." Read new chapters at empire

She closed her eyes for barely a moment when the system's familiar monotone voice chimed in her mind.

[NEW OBJECTIVE: Discuss the art of discerning intentions with Mira Solren.]

"Who?" Argider groaned aloud, sitting upright. "Seriously, can't I have one moment of rest?"

As if summoned by the system itself, Mira Solren appeared from between two towering bookshelves. She moved with the precision of a mechanical clock, her posture rigid, her dark hair neatly braided. Her pale gray eyes scanned the room, and for a moment, Argider swore the air grew colder.

"Argider," Mira said simply, her tone as flat as the expression on her face. "You're in my chair."

"Oh, uh, sorry," Argider muttered, quickly standing. "Didn't see your name on it."

"It's implied," Mira said, lowering herself into the seat with a grace that made Argider feel like a flailing chicken.

Now standing awkwardly beside her, Argider rubbed the back of her neck. Mira had always been an enigma—a woman of few words but endless intellect. Her stoicism could rival a stone statue, and yet there was something magnetic about her presence.

"So," Argider started, not knowing what else to say, "uh… reading anything interesting?"

Mira didn't look up. "Yes."

"What is it?"

"A dissertation on the social dynamics of imperial succession," she replied without hesitation.

Argider blinked. "Wow. Sounds… riveting."

Mira finally looked up, tilting her head slightly as if studying Argider. "Your tone suggests sarcasm. Why?"

"No reason!" Argider blurted, waving her hands defensively. "It's just—uh—heavy reading, isn't it? Don't you ever, like, read something fun?"

"This is fun," Mira said, her voice devoid of inflection.

Argider sighed, plopping into a chair across from her. She supposed this was her life now—endless interactions with fascinating yet exhausting women.

"So," Argider began after a moment of silence. "The system—uh, I mean, I was thinking. You're smart, right?"

Mira raised a brow. "That's an obvious observation. Proceed."

Argider winced. "Right. Okay. So, um, do you know how to… read people?"

Mira blinked slowly, as if the question were beneath her. "Of course. Why?"

"Teach me," Argider said, leaning forward eagerly. "I suck at it. Everyone around me has, like, fifty hidden agendas, and I never know who's lying, who's plotting, or who's just pretending to like me."

Mira set her book down, her gaze now fully fixed on Argider. "Reading people is a skill born of observation, deduction, and intuition. It cannot be taught in a single lesson."

"Okay, but can you at least try?" Argider pleaded. "I'm desperate here."

Mira considered this for a moment, then nodded. "Very well. Let us begin. First, the eyes," Mira stated, her tone as dry as ever. "They reveal more than any spoken word. Observe closely."

Argider squinted. "Okay… what am I looking for?"

Mira's gray eyes narrowed slightly. "Patterns. For example, averted gazes often indicate discomfort or dishonesty. Excessive blinking suggests nervousness. Prolonged eye contact can either be a sign of confidence or aggression."

"That's a lot of 'ors,'" Argider muttered. "What if someone just has dry eyes?"

"Then they should consult a physician," Mira deadpanned.

Argider stifled a laugh, unsure if Mira was joking.

"The hands are equally telling," Mira continued, holding her own hands up as an example. "Fidgeting, clenching, or hiding the hands often betray underlying emotions."

Argider looked down at her own hands, which were fidgeting with the hem of her tunic. "So, like, right now, you're probably thinking I'm nervous, huh?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm not!" Argider said defensively, shoving her hands into her lap.

"That denial, combined with the sudden action, suggests otherwise," Mira replied.

Argider groaned, slumping in her chair. "This is harder than I thought."

"Words are often deceptive," Mira explained. "But their cadence, choice, and consistency can reveal the truth."

"Okay," Argider said, leaning forward. "What do my words tell you?"

Mira regarded her for a moment, her expression unreadable. "You are overwhelmed, uncertain, and attempting to mask your insecurities with humor."

Argider gased. "Wow. Rude."

"It is merely an observation," Mira said with a shrug.

Argider crossed her arms, pouting. "You make me sound like a nervous wreck."

"Am I wrong?"

"Well…" Argider hesitated, then sighed. "No."

As the lesson continued, Argider grew increasingly frustrated. Mira's explanations were precise but felt more like lectures from a textbook than a conversation. She spoke in a monotone voice, her expressions never shifting, her words carefully calculated.

At one point, Argider couldn't help but blurt, "Are you even human? Or are you some kind of reading-people machine?"

"I assure you, I am human. However, if you find my methods mechanical, it is because efficiency is paramount."

"See? Even that answer sounds robotic!" Argider exclaimed, throwing her hands up.

Mira's lips twitched—barely. "Efficiency, Argider, is not a flaw."

Argider groaned, burying her face in her hands. "This is hopeless."

Despite her frustration, Argider began to notice subtle changes in Mira's demeanor. The stoic scholar occasionally tilted her head in curiosity or offered faint, almost imperceptible smiles.

"You know," Argider said suddenly, "you're not as cold as you seem."

Mira raised a brow. "Explain."

"Well, you're helping me, aren't you? You didn't have to. That's… kind of nice," Argider admitted sheepishly.

Mira was silent for a moment before responding, "Kindness is not foreign to me. I simply prioritize logic over sentimentality."

"That's a very robotic way of saying you care," Argider teased.

This time, Mira's lips quirked upward in a barely-there smile. "Perhaps."

As the lesson came to an end, Argider felt both exhausted and enlightened. Mira's methods might have been rigid, but they were undeniably effective.

"Thanks for this," Argider said, standing and stretching. "I still don't understand half of what you said, but I think I learned something."

Mira nodded. "You possess potential. With practice, you may yet become adept at reading people."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Argider said with a grin.

Before leaving, Mira added, "Should you require further guidance, I will be here."

Argider paused by the door, glancing back at Mira. "You know, you're not so scary when you're teaching."

Mira tilted her head, a faint trace of amusement in her eyes. "And you're not entirely hopeless."

Argider laughed, shaking her head as she walked away. For the first time in a long while, she felt like she had a better grasp on the complex web of relationships around her. Even if it meant enduring more of Mira's robot-like lessons, it was a step in the right direction.