Thank You, My Fellow Wankers

"Heh heh heh heh."

Laughter spilled out of me of its own accord.

Well, of course it did. The spank-bank gallery was finally complete, and the original footage of Elena fingering herself was sitting right there in the palm of my hand.

And just like that, Professor Elena's mandatory Magic Theory lecture had rolled around.

"Today we begin Chapter 3, on the asymmetric reflux phenomenon in mana circuits. Please open your textbooks to page 142."

Elena's voice—that sonorous, spine-melting instrument—rang out clear across the lecture hall.

Sure enough, Professor Elena looked as haughty today as ever.

Her sky-blue hair was pinned up with such immaculate precision that not a single strand seemed permitted to escape. Then there was the navy uniform, buttoned tightly to the collar over that chest of hers threatening to tear the seams, and a skirt without a wrinkle to be found.

To anyone who looked, she was the Academy's aloof Ice Witch, Elena, in the flesh. As she traced formula after formula across the blackboard, her ramrod-straight back radiated a nobility that dared no one to come near.

Wow... she's seriously breathtaking.

She looked like nothing so much as a saint who had lived on dew alone and devoted her entire life to the study of magic.

And yet the corners of my mouth kept creeping upward.

Heh heh heh.

No matter how I tried, my mind kept sliding back to the way Elena had shamelessly touched herself in the bathroom yesterday.

The sight of her slicking up her clit with a violet dildo, then shoving it into herself like a bitch in heat.

Ah, fuck. That's so goddamn hot.

My cock had already snapped rock-hard beneath the desk. There was no settling this excitement down.

Not that anyone could see under the desk anyway.

The contrast between yesterday's Elena—the bitch in heat—and the professor standing before me now kept prodding my imagination without mercy.

Every time Elena reached out with the arm holding her chalk, the back of her uniform pulled taut, and the lush line of her suppressed, ample chest pressed itself dangerously against the fabric.

How the hell am I supposed to endure that?

That hair combed back so primly had been drenched in sweat and plastered across her face just last night. And the memory of her cheeks flushed the deep red of a bitch in heat as she panted made my groin throb even now.

I swear, the wreck Elena had been yesterday carried enough raw horniness to wake the dormant humanity in even the continent's most devoted homosexual and set his cock standing at rigid attention.

Above all, the image of those fleshy, luscious tits she kept sealed away inside her uniform—each one more than a single hand could hold—swaying like mad kept flickering behind my eyes.

You obscene, fucking bitch... I am going ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to fuck you. Count on it.

I couldn't focus on the lecture to save my life.

Since concentrating was a lost cause anyway, I secretly powered on my Mana Communicator in the back row and checked the spank-bank gallery.

Yes. This is the proper spank material I'd been after.

I browsed Anonymous_45's post with a contented smile.

Watching those bastards pant like beasts while lamenting the mist-shrouded footage was honestly hilarious.

Cracking up on the inside, I clicked into the Knight Commander video Anonymous_45 had posted.

Ordinary users would see a screen slathered in milky fog, but on my communicator—the device belonging to this system's absolute ruler—it was a different story.

The refraction of light concealing the screen's important parts simply did not exist for me.

Within moments, the Knight Commander's toned bronze skin beaded with water droplets, her perky pink nipples standing stiff and proud, and her plump, dripping pussy were playing back before my eyes in flawless high definition.

"Hnk... heh heh... khh."

Thank you, my fellow wankers.

You lot can spend the rest of your lives soaking your pants over those blurry scraps of light.

Meanwhile, I'll be savoring the original HD ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠feed—and every last one of these bitches is going to get fucked by me personally.

Just as I was gazing in reverence at the Knight Commander's luscious bronze naked body—

Crack—! A sharp, splitting sound tore through the lecture hall.

The scratch of chalk that had been filling the blackboard with dense rows of magic formulas had stopped without my noticing.

The instant I raised my head on instinct, Elena was standing at the lectern, chalk still in hand, looking down at me with glacial eyes.

"That will be quite enough, Student Logan."

Those cold golden eyes were aimed precisely at me. Every other student had gone silent, holding their breath as they turned to look.

Ah, shit. I'm fucked.

Folding her arms and hoisting those abundant breasts of hers to their fullest, Elena opened her mouth.

"So my mana reflux formula is terribly amusing to you, is it? To think you would sit there smirking and staring under your desk in the middle of my lecture—I am left quite speechless."

"Ah, that's..."

I tried to throw together some excuse as I switched off the communicator, but Elena cut me off without a shred of mercy.

"Seal your lips. There is not one trace of respect for scholarship in those eyes of yours—nor one trace of courtesy toward your professor."

She was publicly humiliating me in front of hundreds of students.

"Logan, for misconduct during this Magic Theory midterm evaluation, you will receive a ten-point deduction. And when today's class ends, you will follow me to my private office at once. I intend to personally dismantle and rebuild that rotting mind of yours."

Whispers at my expense drifted up from every corner of the lecture hall.

'That fucker. Professor Elena's really got it in for him now.'
'A ten-point deduction? Isn't his whole semester basically fucked?'

"...Yes, Professor. My apologies."

After that, I got thoroughly chewed out in Professor Elena's private office.

To be honest, even in that very moment, I had agonized over it quite a bit.

Should I just whip out the hidden-cam footage right there on the spot?

I ran that thought through my head a dozen times in a single second, but I settled on my conclusion quickly.

The hidden-cam footage is a card I still need to save.

This alone isn't enough to wrap Elena around my finger completely.

Would the blackmail work? Sure, probably. But Professor Elena was no pushover.

She had reached the 6th circle—the realm they called Archmage—at a shockingly young age, and though she was still young ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠enough to be counted a rising star of the magical world, she was already being hailed as an exceptional future Archmage.

I could not afford a single careless move. One wrong step, and my head might go flying right off my shoulders.

Fucking bitch... just you wait and see.

To pin Elena under my thumb, I needed overwhelming authority or force. Only with power in my hands would blackmail actually stick.

And thankfully, this world had adopted its own brand of capitalism. Which meant money was power.

I returned straight to my dorm and powered on my Mana Communicator.

How do I make ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠money? Simple.

The continent's hundred finest wankers were already gripped tight in the palm of my hand.

I switched on the gallery's administrator privileges and built one new system.

A function that let anyone fire off mana stones, gold, or rare items anonymously through subspace storage.

Every video uploaded so far—Elena's footage and everything the users had posted today—was shattered into jagged pixels by the Quality Degradation Magic I had pre-cast over all of them.

To pry open these pigs' wallets, you need bait they can't refuse.

I pinned an [Admin Notice] to the top of the gallery in red letters.

And barely any time had passed since the notice went up before my Mana Communicator started buzzing like it was about to explode.

Ding—!

Crazy bastards.

They were dumping fortunes just to see the pixels around a mosaic in slightly sharper focus.

"Shiiiit!! Money has never been this goddamn easy to make!"

Checking the assets pouring into my subspace inventory, I laughed myself stupid.

The money gathered in a mere ten minutes was, even on a rough count, enough to buy three of the capital's most luxurious mansions outright.

For all I knew, I was already richer than Elena herself.

That was how enormous the sums these bastards were sponsoring had grown.

Gazing fondly at my newly fattened subspace, I flashed a grin.

Let's see how you like being disciplined for a change, you fucking bitch.

Without a moment's delay, I fired an untraceable deep-web anonymous message at Elena's personal communicator.