Chapter 10: Don't Seduce the Professor

"You know, Darling," I say, pointing my silver steak knife at his sad, grey square of nutrient paste. "You need to eat well to have the strength to train. That sludge isn't going to build a God of Medicine."

Arlo frowns, staring at the sizzling, gloriously bleeding cut of premium Wagyu on my plate. He swallows hard. "How much did that cost? Three Academy Points?"

I chew a perfectly tender, garlic-buttered piece of meat, swallow, and casually hold up five fingers.

Five points. For a single meal.

Arlo looks physically pained by the price, but he knows I'm right. High-grade divine energy requires high-grade fuel.

He abruptly grabs his tray and returns with a mountain of roasted chicken and a massive protein shake.

The problem? He has the stomach of a bird. Watching him desperately force-feed himself dry meat is so tragic I almost tell him to stop—mostly to ensure he doesn't throw up on my expensive shoes.

"Hey!"

A sharp, crisp voice cuts through the noisy chatter of the cafeteria.

I pause with my wine glass and turn around.

Standing there is a girl who looks like she walked straight out of a gothic anime—pale-blonde twin tails, striking crimson eyes, and a smile that flashes two razor-sharp fangs.

A Vampire Awakener.

"I heard I was assigned a new roommate," the girl chirps, stepping closer. "Are you her? Let me introduce myself. I'm Liviel, Awakener of Lilith, the Progenitor of Vampires."

She extends a hand toward me. I notice her fingernails—they are pitch-black and unnaturally long. They look sharp enough to slice through steel.

I flash her my most brilliant, disarming smile. "Nice to meet you, roommate."

I reach out and clasp her hand. The moment our palms touch, her grip tightens like a vice. I look up, meeting her glowing crimson eyes. There is no warmth in them—only the predatory thrill of a hunt.

In a fraction of a second, her other hand shoots forward, those pitch-black nails aiming straight for my heart in a lethal, blindingly fast thrust.

Ah. I love this school.

My smile doesn't waver. Instead of dodging, I squeeze the hand I'm holding. With my enhanced Death God strength, I crush her delicate fingers with the force of a hydraulic press.

Liviel gasps as I crush her hand, her lethal strike completely missing my chest.

Across the table, Arlo simply sighs and slides his chicken tray away to avoid the splash zone.

I don't give the vampire a second to recover. I twist, driving my elbow brutally into her ribs. As she stumbles forward, my left hand shoots up, grabbing a fistful of her twin-tails and yanking her head back.

"A sneak attack? Adorable," I purr.

I drive my knee into her stomach, twist her arm, and force her down.

SLAM.

I drive Liviel face-first into the cafeteria table. Her fangs scrape against a porcelain plate as I pin her effortlessly.

The noisy cafeteria grinds to a dead halt.

Completely unbothered, I pick up my fork, pop a piece of Wagyu into my mouth, and chew slowly.

"So, you're the new roommate?" I say cheerfully to her furious side-profile. "Looks like I'll have to teach you some basic household rules."

Keeping her pinned, I cast a lazy, predatory glare over the silent crowd.

"Does anyone else want to try their luck?" I announce loudly. "You can come at me all at once. But consider this a warning: this first exhibition match was a freebie. Any fights after this, I will be charging an hourly rate."

Click. Clack.

The sharp sound of heeled boots echoes against the floorboards. Another tall, incredibly striking girl sets her lunch tray down on a nearby table and steps forward.

"You're the so-called Death God?" she asks haughtily.

I glance at her. Dark sunglasses, scaled hands, and thick black hair that actually writhes and hisses into living snakes.

"I am Medusa," she declares arrogantly. "Beat me, and Class 1 will recognize your status."

I smirk. "Sure. Let's dance, darling."

Her petrification is a terrifying, one-shot kill—but the weakness is embarrassingly obvious.

I simply close my eyes.

Guided entirely by the frantic hissing of her hair and the clack of her heels, I wait for her to lunge. I casually sidestep, sweep her legs out from under her, and grab her by the back of the neck.

Two minutes later.

SLAM.

I have a second girl pinned face-down on the cafeteria table, right next to Liviel.

"Let me go!" Medusa hisses, her body writhing against my grip, her snake-hair snapping wildly at my wrists.

"Do you submit?" I ask, leaning my weight into her back.

Medusa bites her lip, stubbornly refusing to answer.

Beside her, Liviel awkwardly raises her one free hand from the table. "Roommate. You're strong. I yield."

I press down a little harder on Medusa's spine.

"Okay, okay! I yield! I submit!" Medusa whines, her arrogant facade crumbling completely. "Let me go! There are too many people watching, this is humiliating! And you don't want someone reporting us for illegal brawling and docking our Academy Points, do you?!"

Ah. A threat to my wallet.

I immediately release them both, sweeping a dark, threatening glare over the crowd.

"We saw nothing," the nearby students chorus instantly, burying their faces in their food.

I sit back down. Arlo, who tactfully slid my expensive Wagyu out of the crossfire, slides it back in front of me.

Liviel wipes grease off her fangs. Medusa furiously straightens her sunglasses. Then, without a single word, both girls sit down at our table, acting like they hadn't just tried to assassinate me.

I pick up my wine glass, only to pause. Standing right behind Liviel, watching the spectacle with deep amusement, is the Succubus from this morning.

"Are you looking to get pinned to the table, too?" I ask politely.

The Succubus lets out a low, incredibly sultry laugh.

"This is my older sister, Remi," Liviel introduces proudly. "She's a Succubus Awakener. She's in her third year, so she doesn't need to fight you to prove her status."

"Hello, little one," Remi purrs.

She leans across the table. Her voice is like a physical hook dragging across my skin. She reaches out and takes my hand.

When we shake, I feel her perfectly manicured nail lightly, deliberately scratch the sensitive center of my palm.

A blatant, shameless invitation.

Oh, I am going to like it here.

"Do you mind if I join you?" Remi asks, her eyes trailing down my neck.

"I'd be disappointed if you sat anywhere else," I purr, my voice dropping into a sultry drawl as I hold her gaze.

Beside me, Arlo watches this exchange in sheer terror. He slowly, quietly pulls his tray of chicken closer to his chest.

The rest of the dinner is an absolute education in shamelessness.

Over the next thirty minutes, exactly seven dangerously gorgeous, top-tier male Awakeners approach our table.

And they don't just "greet" Remi.

One leans down to press a lingering, possessive kiss against the bare curve of her neck.

Another trails his fingertips slowly down her spine, whispering something dark and filthy into her ear that makes her purr.

When two of them cross paths, there's no alpha-male posturing. They just exchange a dark, knowing look—a silent agreement of whose turn it is to wreck her bed tonight—and move on.

"My sister is rank thirty," Liviel explains, sucking casually on her blood bag. "S+ combat rating. Half the school is begging to be her dog, but she only lets those seven into her bedroom."

"Too many toys just clutter the playground," Remi purrs, the tip of her tongue slowly tracing her plush, glossed bottom lip.

"Seven is the absolute sweet spot. A different flavor for every night of the week. It keeps their stamina up, keeps me dripping in attention, and ensures I never, ever get bored."

The heavy, intoxicating scent of her raw pheromones rolls across the room. Half the freshmen at the neighboring tables are practically panting, staring at her with glazed, violently aroused eyes.

Arlo violently chokes on a piece of dry chicken. He coughs, his face turning bright red at the sheer, unapologetic degeneracy of the conversation.

I, on the other hand, am completely unfazed. In fact, I respect the hustle. Why choose one when you can successfully manage a schedule of seven?

---

Against all odds, fighting makes for great bonding. After dinner, Liviel and I walk back to the dorms together like old friends.

Since dorms are randomly assigned, Liviel had been living alone in Room 306 until I crashed through the ceiling.

By midnight, the dynamic of our room is set.

Despite her attempts to adjust to the Academy's schedule, Liviel's vampire instincts make her a chronic night owl.

She is currently lounging on the living room sofa, drinking a fresh blood bag and watching a ridiculously gory slasher movie on the flat screen.

I am running on the communal treadmill in the corner, burning off my heavy Wagyu dinner, my body drenched in sweat.

"So, about our Class 1 teachers," Liviel calls out over the sound of chainsaw massacres on the TV. "The curriculum is split into Academic and Practical training."

I increase the speed on the treadmill. "Go on."

"Our Academic homeroom Professor is the Awakener of the God of Abundance. He is incredibly gentle and soft-spoken most of the time. But whatever you do, do not piss him off. When he gets angry..."

Liviel mutters something under her breath, a genuine shiver running down her spine. Over the hum of the treadmill, I can't quite catch what she says.

"And the Practical Training teacher is a Giant Awakener," she continues loudly. "She is terrifyingly strict. If you fail to meet her standards, she will roar loud enough to burst your eardrums. You just Awakened today, so you better get some sleep and save your stamina. She absolutely does not hold back on freshmen!"

I hit the stop button on the treadmill, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat from my neck.

"Oh, and one more thing!" Liviel adds, pointing a black-nailed finger at me. "Both of our teachers are massive traditionalists. They belong to the conservative, strictly-monogamous faction of the Academy. They absolutely despise rule-breakers and players. So, whatever you do..."

Liviel grins, her fangs gleaming in the blue light of the television. "...Do not let yourself be seduced by Professor Hilbert Aurelius's beauty. It's a trap."

I pause, the towel draped around my neck. A fiercely conservative, rule-abiding teacher who happens to be devastatingly beautiful? And he absolutely despises girls who play around?

My Chaotic Evil alignment practically sings with wicked delight. My lips curve into a slow, thoroughly inappropriate smirk.

Well. That just sounds like a challenge.