Marcus and the other two were utterly baffled by the starkly contrasting responses. Were these two siblings or not?

  They leaned towards believing Dionysius.

  Especially Marcus, who secretly nicknamed Dionysius the "Sister-Doting Maniac." After all, a brother should pamper his sister. If their roles were reversed, it would seem rather odd.

  Marcus suspected the siblings were engaged in some sort of eborate act. Perhaps it was a testament to their close bond?

  Leon and Miguel, on the other hand, judged based on appearances. Dionysius exuded confidence, had a commanding presence, and was tall and strong—traits that cshed entirely with the idea of being "frail."

  Xanthia, in contrast, fit the "delicate and petite" archetype perfectly, with her gentle demeanor and soft-spoken nature. Her "fragile young dy" image seemed far more suited to a younger sister.

  The atmosphere grew quiet.

  Marcus, ever the one to break the ice, cheerfully addressed Xanthia, "Being the little sister isn’t so bad. Let me tell you, Brother Dionysius here really cares about you..."

  He began singing Dionysius’s praises, with Leon and Miguel eagerly chiming in. Their glowing comments brought a satisfied smile to Dionysius’s handsome face.

  Feeling quite pleased with himself, he watched Xanthia eat the meat he had personally grilled.

  Xanthia’s dining etiquette remained elegant, befitting her refined and graceful image.

  Noticing Dionysius's smug expression, Xanthia dabbed her mouth with a napkin and casually remarked, "Dionysius and I were born in the same year. My birthday is August 8th, and his is November 11th. You should know by now who’s older."

  Dropping their birthdates was a masterstroke!

  Dionysius’s previously high spirits plummeted at this unassaible fact, providing Xanthia with yet another tally of "pain points."

  Marcus and the others felt their assumptions crumble. They had all but concluded that Xanthia was the younger sibling.

  They didn’t doubt her cim—birthdates were hard to refute, and Dionysius would have corrected her if she were lying.

  Despite her gentle and meek appearance, Xanthia had managed to suppress the three boys with ease. She continued teasing Dionysius, "You don’t usually call me 'elder sister,' yet you still want to be the older brother? You’re quite the disobedient little brother."

  Xanthia’s system chimed in her mind: more "pain points" from Dionysius.

  She knew this would happen—the self-procimed older brother always faltered when faced with the "truth bde."

  Seizing the moment, Xanthia addressed Marcus and the others, "Since you all call him 'Brother Dionysius,' shouldn’t you also call me 'Big Sister Xanthia'? Don’t worry, just call me 'Sister Xanthia,' and I’ll have your backs from now on."

  “Sister Xanthia!” Marcus, Leon, and Miguel chorused in unison, their instincts sharpened.

  After all, Xanthia was undeniably Dionysius’s elder sister. The mighty Dionysius, who was so imposing and unyielding in public, was nothing more than a cheeky younger brother at home. Those familiar with "familial hierarchy" would understand.

  At this point, Dionysius couldn’t remain silent. He stubbornly argued, “I think using birthdates to determine seniority is unfair. Birthdays are beyond our control. As the saying goes, ‘The order of learning does not necessarily reflect skill, and each has their own strengths.’ Surely, you understand the principle of ‘a teacher by virtue of excellence,’ right?”

  Xanthia pointed at him and ughed, turning to Marcus and the others, “Look, he’s getting anxious.”

  “I am not anxious!” Dionysius retorted, wearing a mask of frustration, his tone unconvincing.

  “I know you’re anxious, but there’s no need to be. Just answer this: whose birthday is earlier?” Xanthia asked, fully aware of how to strike his weak spot.

  Marcus and the others were on the verge of ughter but dared not ugh outright. Who could have imagined that the always composed and brilliant Dionysius could be reduced to such a state by Xanthia? Truly, it was a case of one thing overcoming another.

  Luckily, Leon thought of something to deflect the topic and save Dionysius from further embarrassment. He turned to Xanthia and said, “Sister Xanthia, since you’re Dionysius’s elder sister, your father must be Mr. Demetrios El Papadopoulos, right? He’s the owner of Armaggedon esports, a team I really admire. Can you ask him to improve the team’s situation? We need better recruitment efforts; relying on youth training and luck isn’t producing any top pyers, and the future looks bleak.”

  Xanthia replied calmly, “Demetrios is indeed my father, but I don’t care about his work. You should talk to Dionysius about this. He’s the cherished one in the familia, while I’m just a marginal figure.”

  “You are not insignificant; you are very important.” Dionysius emphasized, even though the rest of the familia might not value Xanthia, he certainly did.

  Leon dared not press further, suddenly realizing why Xanthia cked the airs typical of a wealthy familia’s young dy—she wasn’t favored in the Papadopoulos household.

  Marcus, in a moment of poor judgment, blurted out, “If you’re true siblings, why are your birthdays only three months apart?”

  His innocent question earned him a deadly gre from Dionysius, and he immediately regretted it. He must have touched a sensitive topic, one that might upset Xanthia. Why else would Dionysius look at him like that?

  Xanthia smiled nonchantly, casting a sidelong gnce at Dionysius as she tallied more "pain points." “The answer is simple. Dionysius and I are half-siblings, sharing the same father but different mothers. My mother passed away long ago.”

  She stated the fact pinly, without a hint of sorrow or regret in her tone.

  Dionysius’s "pain points" surged. He could feel her deep resignation, and it pained him greatly.

  Marcus felt like a fool. Why hadn’t his brain stopped him from asking such a stupid question?

  Dionysius turned his growing anger towards Marcus, his gre intensifying.

  Holy crap, I really messed up… Marcus broke into a sweat. To defuse the tension, he quickly pulled Leon and Miguel along. “We feel quite full, and we’ve got an afternoon gaming session to get to. We’ll leave you siblings… uh, I mean, sister and brother, to enjoy your meal.”

  Leon and Miguel eagerly cooperated, gd to escape the increasingly tense atmosphere. They hurried off, seemingly itching to dive into their gaming session.

  Before leaving, Marcus made sure to settle the bill.

  Xanthia was thoroughly pleased. A free meal and a hefty number of "pain points" from Dionysius—a perfect win!

  “Xanthia, I’m sorry… you’re not upset, are you?” Dionysius asked hesitantly.

  “Does it matter whether I’m happy or not?”

  “If you’re not happy, I’ll do anything to make you happy,” Dionysius said sincerely.

  “Well, I’m not happy now. Call me ‘elder sister,’ and I’ll be happy. Will you?” Xanthia teased, though she was already delighted inside.

  Dionysius flushed with frustration. Calling her "elder sister" would wound his pride.

  “Oh my, such grand promises, but no sincerity at all,” Xanthia continued to prod, clearly enjoying herself.

  “Elder sister… big sister!” Dionysius spat out through gritted teeth.

  “Hahaha!” Xanthia burst into ughter. Clearly, he was just her little brother Dionysius!

  Seeing his sister's radiant smile, Dionysius suddenly felt a strange peace. As long as she was happy, what did his dignity matter?

  “Well, I’m still not happy! Calling me ‘big sister’ isn’t enough. How about calling me ‘Mommy’? I want to take you in as my adopted son!” Xanthia pushed further, her tone pyful.

  “Xanthia, that’s too much!” Dionysius protested indignantly. “Are you just toying with me?”

  “Of course not. If you call me ‘Mommy,’ I’ll brag about you to everyone. I’ll start every introduction with—‘My son Dionysius, destined for greatness as the younger brother!’” Xanthia ughed.

  Dionysius realized she was having fun at his expense. Still, he couldn’t deny that her pyful side was far more manageable than her previous aloofness.

  While he remained silent, Xanthia leaned closer, perfectly leveraging her natural charm, and softly whispered, “Dionysius, I want to py Dance of Imperials this afternoon. Will you join me?”

  Yes, she was maniputing him again, using him as a gaming partner.

  Dionysius’s emotions were entirely at Xanthia’s mercy. Without hesitation, he responded, “I’ll join you! Whatever you want to py, I’ll join you!”

  “Good, good, my son Dionysius. You have potential. If you behave well, I’ll reward you by calling you ‘brother.’ How does that sound?” Xanthia grinned.

  Xanthia was shameless. Calling him “brother” cost her nothing, but gaining an obedient helper was a massive win for her!

  As far as she was concerned, she was simply reciming what her original self deserved—honorably and justifiably.

  Dionysius took a deep breath. He felt maniputed, yet the thought of Xanthia calling him “brother” in her sweet, endearing voice…

  Hiss… even if it meant being maniputed, he was willing!

  He had no choice. As the youngest grandson in a powerful familia, he had only ever had older brothers and sisters, never a younger sibling.