Pak! Pak! Pak!
Inside a spacious training room, a solitary figure moved around a punching bag. His steps were fast, almost imperceptible, as if his body were melting into the shadows that dominated the environment.
He appeared and vanished constantly.
Every time he emerged from the darkness, a fist buried itself into the bag with absolute precision, forcing it back several centimeters. Each blow released small shockwaves that rippled through the air, echoing through the otherwise silent room.
The power behind those punches was absurd.
If not for the special material used in the bag's construction, it would have been destroyed dozens of times already.
"Huff… huff… huff…"
The figure finally stopped.
His perfectly sculpted body rose and fell as he breathed deeply, sweat flowing freely down his bare torso, lending him a wild, intimidating aura.
He crouched down, picked up a water bottle left on the floor, and drank in large gulps. When he finished, he let out a long, satisfied sigh before letting his body slide down until his back rested against the cold wall.
His mood was terrible.
The image of that small figure sitting on the left side of the classroom returned to his mind, making Jin grit his teeth.
Kazehara Yuto.
That was the name of the student who had been ruining his mood.
Until recently, Jin barely considered him relevant. He only knew that Troy harbored some resentment toward him, nothing more. But lately, a specific piece of information had reached his ears…
And it infuriated him.
Melissa had given Yuto a date. Not only that, they had talked for more than ten minutes.
Not even Jin could spend that long talking with Melissa, despite living in the same dormitory.
Jin's expression hardened completely.
"I'll have Troy deal with him… He should be able to handle it." he muttered, his voice dripping with disdain.
He needed to make that little worm's life a living hell. Something so miserable that it would make him regret ever being born.
BAAAM!
Tsshhhh…
Overcome by accumulated hatred, Jin sprang to his feet and lunged at the punching machine. His fist collided with it at full force.
A violent shockwave swept through the room.
Fine grains of sand began to spill from the bag, and a visible tear opened across its reinforced surface. Jin remained still for a moment, staring at the damage he had caused.
His jaw clenched tight.
"...How dare you get close to Melissa?"
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"Urgh… what a bad feeling…"
Sitting on my bed, a shiver ran down my spine, raising every hair on my body. It was that unpleasant sensation that something was about to go wrong.
"Well… whatever. It's probably nothing."
At the moment, I was just relaxing in my room after a long and exhausting cleaning session of… ten minutes.
Yes. Ten.
I had cleaned the entire room fueled purely by hatred.
I was a walking contradiction: I couldn't stand dirt, yet I was so lazy that I'd rather die than clean. Still, after a heroic effort, I could finally rest again.
My entertainment over the past few days had been watching Ren suffer through the Book of Truth, observing his epic struggle to strike a deal with Melissa.
Sometimes I even felt bad for him.
Sometimes…
But I couldn't deny it.
It was funny as hell.
Melissa's mood was so atrocious that she almost lunged at Ren's throat just because he breathed wrong. In the end, the poor guy had to cough up absurdly valuable information just for her to even consider brewing potions for him.
Still, he pulled it off.
Basically, he got Melissa to produce potions at factory price in exchange for research data that only someone with "author" status could have access to.
…
And despite barely doing anything these past few days, I felt strangely tired. Ever since I struck my own deal with Melissa last Friday, our first study session had been scheduled for Wednesday.
Today was Monday.
I still didn't know who would be teaching whom during that first meeting. The deal was simple: she would teach me alchemy, and I'd pass some combat techniques on to her.
But regardless… I think it'll work out. Hopefully.
Thinking about it now… did Jin get really angry?
In the original story, I clearly remember how he nearly snapped just because Ren talked to Melissa for more than ten minutes.
Now imagine if he found out that I basically scheduled dates with her twice a week.
Yeah… better not think about that.
Argh. Anyway, the next event was approaching.
I lazily got up from the bed and walked over to the low tatami table, sitting comfortably on the soft floor.
If my memory served me right, tomorrow was the elective after-party. The moment Elijah would finally make his move against Amanda.
And I needed to be ready for that.
"This is going to be a pain…"
I muttered, taking a sip of the hot tea I had just prepared, already anticipating the monumental headache it was about to cause.
✦☀✦──────────────────────⚔──────────────────────✦☾✦
Inside a dark, damp chamber, a young man knelt with one knee pressed against the cold stone floor.
"Matriarch… preparations are complete. The bait has been cast."
When he raised his head, his eyes met a crimson throne.
Not merely a throne, but a living structure, crafted from thorns and carmine ornaments, pulsing with an oppressive presence. Before it, two enormous creatures resembling savage hounds sat still. Their deep red eyes glowed in the gloom, and their exposed fangs made the young man's blood run cold.
Seated flawlessly upon the thorned throne was a woman of hypnotizing beauty.
She wore a long, deep-red dress, its hem adorned with intricate, elegant patterns. The fabric clung perfectly to her graceful body, emphasizing every curve with cruel elegance. Her black hair flowed from her shoulders to her waist like a curtain of shadows. Crimson lips formed a cold smile as her fingers tapped rhythmically against the armrest.
"Good…"
Her voice was soft and clear… dangerously pleasant. The moment it reached the young man's ears, his mind wavered briefly, as if brushed by a spell.
He swallowed hard, struggling to keep his heart under control.
His treacherous gaze lingered a moment longer than allowed, tracing the dress that outlined her perfect figure. The sensual aura she emitted was overwhelming—enough to make any man lose his sanity. Her bare feet, white as porcelain, only amplified that unnatural allure.
If not for the two black horns protruding from her head, she could easily have been mistaken for a human.
Realizing his mistake, the young man forcefully averted his gaze, staring at the floor. Cold sweat ran down his back.
She was beautiful, yes.
But making a mistake with her meant something worse than death.
"If it weren't for that idiot Everblood…" the demoness muttered, pouting slightly. "We wouldn't need to push our plans this far."
As she spoke, she absentmindedly stroked the heads of the two creatures at her feet. The silence that followed weighed upon the room like a sentence.
"Matriarch… when should we begin the plan?" the young man asked cautiously, breaking the silence.
She seemed to think for a moment, observing him with appraising eyes.
"Mmm… let's take it slow. Even though Everblood failed, we still have time." A faint smile appeared. "First, try to capture our target."
"As you wish, Matriarch."
The young man placed his left hand over his chest and bowed deeply.
"Good boy…"
The Matriarch smiled, watching him with interest.
Elijah Turner.
That was the name of the boy kneeling before her.
Forced into a pact with him due to specific circumstances, she had spent over a year observing him. He wasn't exceptionally talented… but he was obedient.
And she liked that.
Suddenly, an overwhelming pressure filled the room.
Elijah felt his legs give way, his body trembling under an invisible weight.
"...But I expect you not to fail me," she said, her voice now laced with coldness. "We cannot allow another setback in our grand plan."
"Understood…"
Each word demanded every ounce of willpower he possessed.
"Ku ku ku… what a cute boy."
Her soft laughter echoed, and the pressure vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Elijah inhaled deeply, finally able to move.
"That will be all. You may go."
"Thank you."
Bowing once more, the young man left the chamber.
The moment he was gone, a shadow materialized beside the throne. Its features were completely obscured by darkness, visible to no one but the Matriarch.
"Are you certain it's wise to let him act alone?" the shadow asked.
She smiled faintly, her gaze fixed on the empty space where Elijah had departed.
"If he can't even manage that…" she replied calmly, "then it's better that he dies."
"Even if it's a waste… after everything I've invested in him."
The smile on her lips deepened.