Jealousy Ignites Her Desire
Iris's lighthearted joke drew a smirk from me.
"Should I break one of his legs on my way?"
"Just come back with a few bruises. I'll brew you some tea."
"If it's tea from the saintess herself, I'd drink poison if I had to."
"No poison. I'll add plenty of honey."
Iris beamed, her smile free of the heavy burden of her saintess title. It was the face of an ordinary girl my age—light, carefree. A conversation without thorns. Silly banter. My chest warmed a little.
We brushed off the grass and stood. A brief farewell. She turned and walked away, her silver hair swaying crisply in the afternoon breeze. I watched until her figure vanished completely behind the foliage. My stifled breath eased just a bit.
🌸
The next morning, my room was dark. The curtains were drawn tight.
-Slurrrp...! Slobber slobber...!♡
The friction sounds spilling from the recording crystal filled the empty room. Rozalia von Bloomhart crawled on all fours across the bathroom tiles, greedily licking the prince's filthy asshole.
"Haaang...♡ I would never do this for those filthy commoner bastards—it stinks too much...!♡"
My girlfriend, mocking me as an untouchable pariah while belting out her vulgar moans.
I leaned back against the bed, fumbling inside my pants. My poor little dick, nerfed small and pathetic from nonstop abuse since yesterday. I pinched my pinky-finger-sized micro-cock between thumb and forefinger, jerking it frantically. The skin was raw and stinging from all the friction.
"Haa... fuck, this is so hot."
I let out a ragged breath.
"Good thing I recorded it."
On screen, Descartes gently caressed her cheek. Rozalia's eyes glazed over, her face flushing red. She melted naked into his arms, whispering sweet nothings—the same adoring expression she'd once reserved only for me.
My chest throbbed. Breath caught in my throat. A maddening betrayal twisted deep in my gut.
"Ngh...!"
-Splurt. Splatter.
Watery semen spurted out pathetically. Who knows how many times I'd already blown my load. The thin dribble soaked my stomach stickily. I grabbed a tissue from the table and wiped myself off roughly. In the mirror, my face stared back—hollow-eyed, black fatigue smeared under them.
Anyone would peg me for a hopeless netorare masochist. Was it the system's penalty? Or was I truly sinking into this sick, sweet swamp, just as Rozalia intended?
'Still, this little guy's not so bad.'
Two fingers filled it right up—handy for jerking off, at least. I tucked away my sore nub and got out of bed.
🌸
Classes began. Afternoon major lecture in the Knight Faculty's Cell Broad Hall.
The hall buzzed with preparations for sparring. I leaned against the corner wall, wooden sword in hand, as cadets' murmurs brushed my ears.
All eyes were glued to two people. Whispers of jealousy and envy echoed from every corner.
"Look over there. Haven't Prince Descartes and Lady Bloomhart been super close lately?"
"They look like a painting together..."
Female cadets blushed with admiration. But the male knight cadets reacted differently.
"Damn... our faculty's flower is getting snatched like that. Honestly, isn't it a waste for our top student Rozalia?"
"Waste? Sure, the third prince is far from the throne, but that face is overwhelming. Plus, he's royalty."
"You need looks like that to claim a genius lady no one else can touch... fuck, jealous bastard."
My gaze stayed fixed on one spot.
The idol of the Knight Faculty. A genius beyond the heavens. Rubbing up against another man, tail wagging.
Descartes and Rozalia stood side by side. Too close. Their shoulders nearly brushing in a tantalizing near-miss.
The prince leaned in, whispering in her ear. Rozalia covered her mouth, letting out a soft laugh. Her pale hand naturally gripped his firm bicep.
"......"
Crunch. My grip tightened on the wooden sword's hilt. The wood creaked under the pressure.
It was an act. Build-up for Rozalia to win our bet—flattering the prince, seducing him. I knew that in my head. But seeing it with my own eyes was different.
Yesterday, they'd skipped afternoon class for that secluded teahouse. No, that sleazy motel. I wondered desperately what had gone down. Her cherry lips might still carry the prince's musky residue from yesterday. And yet, here she was, beaming radiantly in front of me, pressing against another man.
'What if the act turns real and she hops aboard for good.'
Irritation surged. Maybe starting this stupid bet was a mistake. My gut twisted like a snake. My lower belly boiled, while a sharp shard scraped my heart raw.
"Next. Cadet Descartes. Step forward."
Instructor Setina's dry voice rang out. Descartes sauntered to the center with a leisurely smile. His blue eyes swept the waiting area.
Then locked precisely on me.
"Cadet Karn von Mercier."
The prince's lips curved elegantly.
"Care to spar lightly with me?"
Silence. Every cadet's gaze snapped to me. The untouchable commoner. Scion of a merchant family who bought their title.
The pureblood royal's reason for picking trash like me was obvious. Crush me like a bug in front of Rozalia, erase any trace of her commoner friend from her memory.
I wordlessly raised my wooden sword and stepped forward. My steps felt heavy.
I couldn't win. The original story's male lead, the empire's third prince. Pissing him off gained nothing. Our bad-end goal was Rozalia falling head over heels for him, corrupting completely. If I blundered in and won, it'd delay those hot scenes. The plan would crack. I had to stay the cuck longer.
'Just lose gracefully.'
Three exchanges. Exactly three clashes, then roll nicely onto the floor. Eat dirt pathetically under the prince's sword, wallow in humiliation. Then Rozalia would mock my sorry ass and cling harder to the victor.
"Begin."
Instructor Setina's hand dropped.
Whoosh-!
Descartes exploded forward. Fast. Burst speed far beyond a normal cadet. His wooden sword arced viciously toward my shoulder.
I took half a step back. To me, it was too slow.
My freakish body had already dissected his muscle contractions, weight shift, sword angle—packing it all into my brain.
No need to block. Just raise my sword clumsily, let it bounce off like I couldn't handle the impact.
That's when it happened.
"Your Highness! Don't hold back!"
A clear voice like rolling jade beads shattered the silence, booming across the arena.
"Crush that rootless commoner in one go! Show me your noble swordsmanship, Your Highness!"
Rozalia. Hands clasped at her chest, feet stomping excitedly, cheering Descartes fervently. Burning affection and trust for the prince. Utter contempt for me.
"......"
The taut string of reason in my head snapped.
It's an act. All scripted. I knew.
But that soft pink jelly who used to shower my cheeks and lips with affection... those lips that licked every wrinkle of another man's asshole yesterday... now cheering him right in my face.
'Those smackers are mine. My shared asset, fuck...!'
Arrogance deepened on Descartes's lips. Buoyed by her cheers, his sword swung with even more destructive force—like it aimed to shatter my collarbone.
BAM-!
A horrific crack of wood on wood exploded. Descartes's eyes bulged.
"...Huh?"
His sword never touched my shoulder. I didn't retreat.
Instead, in that instant of his committed swing, I stepped deep inside. My wooden sword slapped his blade at an angle, utterly ruining its path.
The prince's balance floated into empty air. I followed with the hilt's end, tapping the vulnerable inside of his wrist.
"Ack!"
His wooden sword flew from his hand, clattering loudly across the floor.
And the tip of mine halted exactly one centimeter from under his chin. One exchange.
"......"
The hall fell pin-drop silent. No one breathed. An utter void.
"Well fought, Your Highness."
I said curtly and dryly. Sheathed my sword, stepped back.
"......"
Descartes's blue eyes shook violently. Humiliation. Shock. Disbelieving horror.
He stared at his empty hand, then forced his trembling lips into a smile. Donned his affable mask in a flash.
"...Impressive. I let my guard down. A fine strike, cadet."
"Thank you."
I gave a light nod and turned away.
As I walked back, the cadets' murmurs erupted belatedly.
"What just happened?"
"Disarmed him in one clash..."
"Who's that cadet? The commoner, right?"
"Karn... von Mercier. Wait, has he always been that handsome?"
The girls' gazes had shifted too.
"Up close... he's kinda hot..."
"Yeah. Pointing his sword at the prince all stoic... totally my type."
"Right? How'd we miss him? His eyes are like sunset glow—damn, he's gorgeous."
Irritation flooded me. Mistake. Blind jealousy made me win. Muddying our netorase build-up.
'Rozalia might be disappointed.'
No, pissed. She'd finally played the weak damsel for the prince, praising his strength to latch on. And I made him look like a fool.
I slumped on the corner bench, forehead in hand, mind churning.
Class ended. Cadets filed out. I stowed my wooden sword, wiped sweat from my nape on the bench.
Swish. Familiar, thick rose scent.
Rozalia passed by, geared to leave. Her heel clicks halted sharply before me.
Plenty of cadets still packing gear. Descartes nearby, glancing my way while chatting with his attendant.
Smack! Something white and soft slapped roughly over my face. A handkerchief.
"You stink of sweat. Wipe it off."
Rozalia's voice—icy, snappish, the haughty noblewoman despising a commoner.
I slowly peeled the cloth from my face.
"Ah, yes. Thank you, milady."
Playing the properly cowed commoner, I looked up. And froze.
Rozalia looming over me. Only her back visible to onlookers. The angle only I could see from the bench.
Her pale cheeks blazed crimson, ready to burst. Her rapeseed-yellow eyes, meant to be cold, swam with pleasure and excitement, glittering like they'd spill sweet tears any second. Lips bitten tight, shoulders quivering faintly.
'...Huh?'
She leaned in just a fraction toward me. Her hot, damp breath ghosted my ear.
"So... fucking... hot......"
A whisper like crawling ants, barely audible. A melted, horny bitch's sticky voice.
"That was jealousy, right, Karn? You got pissed 'cause I cheered for that prince bastard, so you crushed him in one go?"
Her overwhelming tits nearly brushed my shoulder. Unnaturally feverish heat seeped through her thin clothes.
"What do I do, Karn? You're too cute, I'm dying...♥ My pussy won't stop drooling...♥ Panties are soaked through......"
Partner's emotions have reached the required level.
Acquired 1 Netoright
My mind blanked. My pathetic jealous rampage victory? She wasn't disappointed. She'd fallen hard for my beastly possessiveness, control lost.
The woman who'd mocked my name while devouring the prince's cock and ass on a dirty bathroom floor yesterday... now thigh-squeezing and pussy-drooling over one tiny jealous spark from me.
This insane gap.
"Remember our bet with the Vulgar Netoright on the line? Still valid, right?"
Her lips grazed my earlobe ever so lightly—unseen by anyone—nipping and releasing. Blue lightning raced down my spine.
"Meet at the bench behind the campus park after class. Secret date time, Karn♥."
Leaving her lewd whisper, Rozalia straightened. In a blink, back to the arrogant noblewoman mask for Descartes. She strode out primly, heels clicking, without a backward glance.
I buried my face in the white handkerchief clutched in my hand, thick with her rose scent. Gulped hot breaths.
She really was a maddening femme fatale.