Chapter 450

Hannah was about to reply with a simple "okay," yet Claude beat her to it with a calm refusal. "No.Lindsay, you go ahead. Hannah's still new, and l ought to guide her."

Lindsay's smile collapsed in an instant. Her face turned complicated, but after a brief hesitation, she managed a reluctant nod. "Alright."

As Lindsay pivoted toward her locker, she couldn't resist stealing glances at Claude and Hannah. She had fallen for Claude at first sight, but it was plain as day-his heart wasn't tilted in her direction.

.Lindsay's eyes lingered as Claude attentively helped Hannah select protective gear, explaining each technique with patient care.

With every passing moment, Lindsay's gaze grew colder, like frost quietly spreading across glass. Claude lifted a brand-new white fencing suit and held it out. "Hannah, try this one; it looks like it'll fit."He then reached for the chest protector. "Here, let me help you put this on. We'll talk through the techniques afterward."

As he spoke, he stepped closer, carefully securing the gear in place for her.

Once Hannah was suited up, Claude began outlining the fundamentals of fencing.

He demonstrated the stance, the grip, and the thrust,signaling for Hannah to follow along. She imitated him with steady cooperation.

"Yes, just like that! Now sink lower-keep your weight grounded." Claude's voice carried patient firmness as he lifted his foil. "Let's try a simple bout. I'lI keep it slow so you can grasp the rhythm and distance."

He took his stance and beckoned her to attack.

Hannah advanced as instructed, driving her foil forward. Olauce derflached it with ease.

The hwo exohanged moves again and again.

But elfter several rounds, Claude's sharp eyes caught somathing unusual-Hannah's reflexes and footwork were ffar too polished for a beginner.

whern he pressed her with s slightly quicker move,she insminctivaly produced a perfect counterattack,tenmbook in torm.

A spark of surprise lit Claude's gaze. He lowered his meapon, genuinely impressed. "Hannah, you're learning at lightning speed. Your reactions and steps don't look like those of s beginner st all."

Hannah stayed silent for a moment before breaking into a candid smile, her tone carrying a hint of apology. "Claude, truth is... I already know how to fence."

Claude blinked, taken aback. "You do?"

She nodded. "Yes. Vincent taught me." Vincent again. Claude's expression dimmed, a shadow crossing his face. "Why didn't you mention that sooner?"

Hannah softened her voice. "Claude, I'm sorry. I truly didn't mean to hide it. You seemed so enthusiastic,and I didn't want to spoil your mood. Besides, it's been ages since I practiced, so I'm rusty."

She paused and then lifted her foil, pointing it toward him with a bright shift of tone. "How about we test ourselves in a real match?"

Claude's smile returned, tinged with competitive spirit."Gladly-but I won't hold back."

Hannah's lips curved faintly. "Nor will I, Claude."

Claude struck first, his foil darting toward her.

°But Hannah's reaction was swifter-she sidestepped neatly, evading his thrust. Her wrist flicked, the foil snapping back with precision toward his underarm.

After a flurry of exchanges, Claude found himself gradually cornered, unable to break through her defense.

Again, with a sharp clang, Hannah landed a clean hit.The bout was decided.

Claude lowered his blade and offered an honest smile. "I'm impressed. You've bested me fair and square."

Hannah exhaled, her cheeks lightly flushed from the exercise. "You went easy on me, Claude."

Meanwhile, in the upstairs gallery of the fencing club,Vincent had just concluded his negotiation with Hannah and moved on to casual business talk with a key overseas partner. They sat by the window,overlooking the wide training hall below.

Lifting his coffee cup, Vincent let his gaze wander °arelessly until it suddenly froze mid-motion. Two familiar figures had caught his eye: Hannah and Claude.

Vincent had watched from the moment they donned their gear and sparred together. The longer Vincent observed, the darker his mood became, like clouds gathering before a storm.

Across the table, his business partner noticed the shift in his expression and grew uneasy. "Mr. Jones?Is something the matter? Are you unwell?"

Vincent forced his composure back, masking the storm behind calm eyes. His reply came low and cold. "It's nothing... I simply saw someone I'd rather not see."