Counseling (5): A Painful Escape
"H-how...?!"
"How what? Even as a teacher, I'm not obligated to lick my student's feet."
"That's not what I meant...!"
Unable to voice the real reason, Abel stomped her feet in frustration.
Yeah, I know that's not what you meant.
But I was in the same boat—no way I could explain it either—so I gritted my teeth, ignored the searing pain in my sole, and sat back down.
Maybe I should've gone with a smaller thumbtack.
Right now, my sole was pierced deep by a sharply whittled wooden splinter, blood gushing out freely.
In the original story, Abel's Subordination was rated as near-invincible once activated, but it had one tiny weakness.
It broke if the target endured intense pain before it fully took root. The rooting time varied by person, but usually around five minutes.
Get it together, you idiot!
Kugh?!
What a brutal three-hit combo...! You've got the fist to conquer the world!
In the original, there was that memorable scene where the protagonist snapped out of Subordination with a one-two straight to the male lead's face, followed by a clean uppercut.
Of course, I had no comrades around to punch me in the face, so I had no choice but to gamble on Abel's usual post-Subordination routine.
Lick my foot. □□.
In the original, when Abel judged the protagonist useful based on her looks and Subordinated her, she made her lick her feet.
Thinking of that, I'd folded my shoe slightly, hiding the sharp wood under my heel. The moment I stood, it would pierce through, jolting me awake with pain.
Pardon? Like this? Ehehehe.
W-wait?! I never told you to lick it like that—no, hngh? Haaah?! Hold on. You don't mean...?!
Of course, the protagonist—being a romance-fantasy heroine—didn't refuse like I did; she licked like a maniac instead.
It made for a fun novel since the protagonist was a gender-blind perv. But in reality? No thanks. Fun in a book, sure—but face-to-face, she'd just be a psycho.
"Let's end today's counseling here."
"…."
My foot hurt like hell, and I needed to treat it before the blood ruined my shoe, so I wrapped things up.
Abel was still glaring at me, her face flushed red. Man, she really was a romance lead—gorgeous, unfortunately her charms didn't work on me. No one reaches out to pet a lion acting cute right in front of them.
"What are you waiting for? Out you go, Abel."
"…Good work, Teacher."
I'd been worried the blood might seep out of my shoe if she lingered, but luckily, she bowed her head obediently and left.
"Right. Next week, maybe we can counsel about that behavior of yours."
"Urgh...! I just lost my mind for a second. It won't happen again, so no need to worry."
"I still need to worry."
"Why?"
Abel shot me a glare.
Once Abel had left the room, I craned my neck to confirm she was fully gone, then hurriedly kicked off my shoe.
"…Ugh."
Lifting my foot sent blood dripping down in earnest. I should've gone easy, but without knowing the exact pain threshold, I had to make it as sharp and intense as possible.
"Damn, this is gonna make me cry."
But what choice did I have? Had to pull it out.
With zero soundproofing in this rundown Old School Building, I couldn't scream. I bit down on a prepared towel and yanked the wooden splinter from my sole.
"Grrraaah…!!!"
As the sharp wood scraped out of my flesh, agony surged. Barely stifling a scream with the towel, tears welling up, I dragged over my document bag.
"…At least I have this."
I wiped the blood with the dry towel from my mouth, then eyed my still-bleeding sole and pulled a red vial from the bag—the potion that'd been there since I first woke in the carriage.
Pouring half onto my sole, a tingling itch spread as the wound healed rapidly.
"Ah, much better."
I leaned back against the desk. As in the original, the potion had pain relief too; the ache faded quickly.
"That'll hold for now."
While cleaning the blood around me, I glanced toward where Abel had gone.
In the original, after the protagonist resisted her Subordination, Abel grew wary, wondering if he'd figured her out, and kept her distance for a while. Hopefully, she'd do the same for me.
"…Come to think of it, in the original, that incident made Abel obsessed with the protagonist."
I recalled the story.
Early on, Abel spotted the academy's S-rank super beauty protagonist and took interest. The protagonist was a lowly 2nd Circle scrub back then, so Abel smirked, lured her to a secluded spot to collect her, and tried Subordination.
But the protagonist's special mana ignored it, humiliating Abel and sparking her obsession…
"But that was because the protagonist was hot."
Nah, no way.
What would she see in a scrub like me?
Crash!
Leaving the Old School Building, Abel entered the Trap Forest dividing it from the New School Building and shattered the small crystal in her hand.
Minutes later, three women emerged from the woods.
"You called, Lady Abel."
"You're late." "…Sorry. The forest is full of traps…."
"…Sigh. Whatever."
The seniors—older than Abel—bowed deeply in sincere apology. Abel pulled one girl forward.
Red tie, symbol of the academy's top year—4th year, two grades above Abel—the girl cowered and bowed before her.
"Hrun."
"Yes! Lady Abel!"
"Didn't you say that man was some political reject?" "Y-yes! My father said so himself!"
Hrun Kresber.
This girl was the daughter of a 2nd-grade imperial official—the Minister of Education. Mershu Academy drew talented kids from across the continent, so highborn offspring like her were a dime a dozen.
Abel stomped hard on Hrun's foot.
"Ow—"
"Quiet." "Mmph…!"
Even with her foot crushed, she stayed silent. Without hesitation, she stuffed her own hand in her mouth—letting her teeth grind into it—to muffle any sound. Abel smiled in satisfaction.
"Hmm."
Yeah, that teacher should've ended up like this too.
Confirming the other students still under her Subordination, Abel lifted her foot.
Her Subordination wasn't flawed. That teacher had just exceeded her expectations.
"…Even the Minister of Education can't pin down his identity."
Interest and wariness toward Otto spiked in Abel's mind. She mentally compiled what she knew about him.
"What kind of teacher is he, anyway?"
Unnaturally thorough intel on students. Strength to breeze through the Trap Forest. Escaping Subordination implied he was hiding his circle rank as a mage. Plus, an identity so secretive even the education minister was clueless.
The more she thought, the less ordinary he seemed.
"Lady Abel, may I say something?" "He was planted by the Intelligence Division… Fine. Speak."
The rigid-beauty woman behind Hrun stepped forward. Her movements were precise, yet she glided soundlessly through the leaf-strewn forest.
"Recently, Intelligence has been moving against the academy."
"…Intriguing. Go on. You—face down."
"Y-yes!"
Abel perched atop the prone Hrun.
"What kind of moves?" "They dispatched a 'black'-grade agent to the academy."
"Black-grade?" "It denotes the empire's Intelligence elite—top operatives, all with unknown identities known only to the emperor."
"So he's one of them?"
"Unconfirmed… but highly likely."
"I'll buy that."
Abel nodded. If he was an imperial spy, all the mysteries fit: inexplicable intel, forest-traversing prowess, disguise to hide his rank, unknown origins baffling even the minister.
"Plus, that overly student-friendly demeanor—it's all camouflage. Makes perfect sense."
Now convinced he was an imperial agent, Abel's lips curved into a sly grin. Others might grow wary upon realizing his identity—but to her, it was delicious prey dropped right in her lap.
"We'll watch him closely for now."
Approaching an imperial agent required utmost caution. Chastising herself for getting too reckless today, Abel stretched and rose from Hrun.
"H-haaah…"
"Oh dear, the ground's filthy. Get up, Miss Hrun."
"Y-yes…!"
One year—long if long, short if short—but Abel was confident.
"I'll make him mine, no matter what."
Imagining Otto kneeling beneath her once more, Abel trembled in ecstasy.