The Devil's Contract

"Greetings, students of Federico Academy. I am Nico Müller, your temporary instructor for today."

His voice echoed softly across the lectern, where the students of Nicola Class looked down from their seats.

Half-lidded triangular eyes. Pale skin and prominently jutting cheekbones. A sinister smile lingering on lips etched with deep nasolabial folds.

Unlike his eerie appearance, the man's voice and manner of speaking were remarkably refined.

"Today, I will teach you about deck destruction tactics."

The students stirred at that. Deck destruction, by its nature, avoided creature battles as much as possible, instead suffocating the opponent outright. Even setting aside most students' preference for settling things through creature clashes, the risk of accidentally exposing your entire hand made it something they desperately wanted to avoid.

Müller desperately fought the twitch at the corner of his mouth. Revealing his true colors now would mean no pay and getting booted from the academy.

Instead, he donned the mask of a gentleman over his gloomy features and continued.

"I understand your feelings well, but for the sake of the future, it's wise to study this tactic. Some players form teams, and at the vanguard are those who use deck destruction to probe enemy strategies."

Like me, for instance. Swallowing those words inwardly, Müller scanned the students.

"As you all know, deck destruction aims to suppress creature battles as much as possible and rapidly deplete the opponent's deck... Typically, these support cards are the mainstays."

A massive screen visible to all students displayed magically projected images in a neat list.

Origin cards varied wildly from person to person, but support cards were dictated by the meta. Scraping that list wasn't hard.

It took minimal effort to prepare yet looked convincingly thorough—a clever ploy.

Müller continued reciting his "plausible" material. His eyes narrowed, locking onto one boy.

Pale platinum hair contrasting blood-red eyes: Ricardo Bardi.

The gaze lingered briefly, but it was blatant enough for the perceptive to grasp his intent.

"—That's the explanation, but I think a demonstration would resonate more with you students."

Flashing a serpentine grin unique to those who prowled the underworld, Müller continued in a nonchalant tone.

"So, would any student like to face my deck destruction tactics? Unfortunately, I don't know much about you all... Ah, perfect. The top entrant of this class is right here, isn't he?"

His eyes gleamed like a snake spotting prey, snaking back toward Ricardo with venomous intent.

"Mind if I ask for a match—"

"Professor, I have something to say!"

At that moment, a rigid-faced male student—Eden Rogers—raised his arm in a textbook-perfect posture. A few students whispered in shock that the model student had interrupted the professor.

Müller barely suppressed a tongue-click, forcing his lips into a smile.

"Speak. That is...?"

"Eden Rogers, Professor."

"Yes, Rogers. What is it?"

"You've offered a great opportunity, but regrettably, Bardi isn't in top condition. Why not give the chance to another student?"

"Aha."

He wanted to shout that he knew that already, but Müller held back for the sake of his paycheck.

"My, that's a shame he's not well. But where exactly, and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠how badly?"

"Well..."

"He's suffering some backlash from the duel."

Ricardo's flat voice cut in. Müller covered his splitting grin with a bony hand.

Stepping up on his own—how convenient.

"I see. Multiple duels, then?"

"No. Just once."

"Bardi..."

Eden called softly to dissuade him, but Ricardo met Müller's gaze with calm eyes, unperturbed.

Those blood-red eyes held an unsettling chill, but Müller, not one to miss a chance, spoke as if offering advice.

"Just once... It seems the top entrant needs to build mental fortitude. Out in the real world, a single duel won't always resolve things. What do you say? If you're not on the verge of collapse, I could personally ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠help."

"Fine by me."

"...Ricardo~ You sure~?"

"Bardi, don't push yourself."

His friends' worried pleas were pitifully amusing. Müller twisted his lips into a smirk.

"Professor, one question."

A seductive voice tickled his ear. Turning, he saw cascading golden hair and fiery red eyes—an unparalleled beauty, even for a worldly man like him. He swallowed hard but quickly recalled her face matched Alessia Le Fell Ardia, princess of Ardia, and schooled his expression.

"What is it?"

"If as you say, this duel will improve Bardi's mental strength—is that correct?"

Alessia glared down, her eyes blazing as if lies wouldn't be tolerated. Müller swallowed again, for different reasons.

"Haha. As you know, Magic & Creature mental strength grows through repeated duels."

"I know."

"Especially against a strong foe forcing your full power—the growth is even greater."

"I see. So you're claiming to be that level of expert."

"Of course."

He wasn't about to lose to some seventeen-year-old brat. At least, that's what Müller believed.

Though his family had fallen, he was once a notable noble, with years of experience piled high. Even knowing Ricardo used dragons.

Humans were like that—blind until they experienced it themselves.

Ricardo tossed a faint smile their way as if unbothered, pulling his deck from his pocket and descending slowly.

Still pale with fatigue, yet his piercing eyes stabbed toward Müller like sharpened blades.

...Müller suddenly felt like livestock before a butcher. Impossible, of course.

Something off about this kid. Better end it quick.

Wiping cold sweat from his cheek, he forced a grin and spoke.

"Well then, shall we begin? I don't have Medici's dice, so we'll use the battle table's system."

Before finishing, Müller hit the button. The Soul Point ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠display flickered rapidly.

Result: Müller 9, Ricardo 6. Their mouths opened in unison.

"I'll go first."

Müller silently drew a card, slamming it onto the field.

"My card is Mine Buretta."

Despite the demon summon, the students' murmurs weren't loud.

Demon origin cards sometimes manifested in coldly calculating people, unrelated to morality.

The few whispers stemmed from Müller's gloomy aura meshing too well with it—gossip fodder.

"The moment Buretta is summoned, its special ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ability triggers. I fetch a magic circle called Devil's Contract from my deck and deploy it. Requires mana crystals, of course."

Müller fanned his deck dramatically, slowly selecting a card and placing it down.

"The one I'll deploy is Devil's Contract - Self-Imposed Trap."

Kikikik.

Mine Buretta clapped with a creepy laugh. Black chains rattled out, binding both players' wrists before vanishing like smoke.

"As long as this is active, both players discard cards from deck to graveyard equal to a summoned creature's rank. In exchange, recover 500 Soul Points per rank."

"Deck destruction, huh..."

Eden muttered from the spectator seats, arms crossed, brow furrowed.

"I'll set one more magic circle and end my turn."

Müller smirked slyly. His scheme was slowly unfurling its jaws.