'Human Rights' for a Grad Student? (1)
“Hey, Lucy.”
“You know I'm a grad student, and you're still talking down to me?”
“Should I call you Senior Lucy, then?”
“Nah, I wanna hear it casual from my boy.”
“Weird taste.”
“Only for boys.”
“How do you know who I am?”
“Word is there's this freshman who's been parading around with girls on both arms since day one.”
“Hah, who could that be?”
Lucy blinked.
“Come on, it's you, boy.”
“Not me.”
He'd walked with Maron and Eletra a few times, sure, but that wasn't exactly parading with girls on both arms.
It had to be someone else entirely—or just baseless gossip.
“...Quite the notorious scoundrel, just like the rumors say.”
“?”
“Never mind. Forget it. I might end up falling for that scoundrel too...”
Lucy cupped her breasts from below.
Jiggle.
“...”
“What? No comment this time?”
“Whoa, those tits are insanely hot.”
“...Cruder than before?”
The target's mood isn't too bad.
Praise Points: +10 (1590 → 1600)
Why the hell did this get him points? Wasn't she way too easy?
Grateful, sure, but still.
“...Into boobs, huh?”
“Any guy who says he's not is either lying or dangerous.”
“Hmm...”
Lucy shook her chest again.
Jiggle.
This subculture game world was just too damn good.
The romance fantasy angle was a bit of a drag, though.
Thinking about it, it pissed him off. If he was gonna get isekai'd anyway, why not into one of his favorite old-school games?
He could've saved heroines whose backstories he already knew, gotten close that way.
“...”
Wait, wasn't he already doing that with Maron?
Eletra's deal was still a mystery.
And Lucy...
He knew her backstory all too well.
“How's grad student life treating you?”
“Eh, same old. Tough when it's tough, manageable when it's not.”
“You sure you're not suffering under some extra shitty advisor?”
Lucy froze.
“How'd you know?”
Because he'd read the original story.
The reason Lucy Merhantia ended up a terrorist attacking the Imperial Academy?
Her vicious advisor.
Endless days and nights of lab work and personal errands for the professor.
Stealing her good ideas as his own, then nitpicking to keep her from graduating.
It dragged on for a year, two, three, four...
Crushed by the overwork and abuse, Lucy snapped and developed a mental illness.
The world looked blurry.
Apathy.
Everything hurt, felt impossible—even tidying her room was like lifting a mountain.
Her body went through the motions: clock in, analyze data, feed the advisor's pet dog, water the plants, run errands, come back.
One day.
She saw a carriage speeding by and thought, If I get hit by that, I won't have to go in.
A healthy person might've just skipped work.
But her broken mind saw death as the only escape.
She stepped toward the carriage with a serene smile.
A hand grabbed her.
“You okay? You look... exhausted.”
In utter despair, she'd cling to any lifeline—even a poisoned one.
That was Lucy's first encounter with the cult, the Abyssal Order.
Of course, he couldn't just tell her he knew her future.
Luckily, he had a convenient excuse.
“That advisor's got a bad rep. As a duke's son, I hear all the gossip.”
“...”
“Lucy.”
“Yeah?”
“Sometimes, avoiding it's the only right answer.”
Right now, Lucy was in her first year as a grad student.
But grad students got thrown into labs right after undergrad, exploited even before the official semester started.
So she'd already been suffering under her advisor for about three months.
Lucy pressed her fingers to her lips in a V-sign again.
“...You're full of surprises.”
“What is?”
“Thought you were just pretending to be oblivious on purpose.”
“...I think you're misunderstanding something. I've never pretended to be oblivious. Not once.”
Because he genuinely wasn't.
Even after getting isekai'd here, he'd probably already done a few oblivious things. Two or three, maybe four.
But.
“Whether you've got social awareness or not has nothing to do with how you respond to people's feelings.”
Through twelve years of school and even college, he'd always had friends.
—Kim Si-woo's clueless as hell, but he's a good guy.
That was the verdict from his buddies.
Cracking open beers, pulling all-nighters on assignments with caffeine IVs, grilling meat by the river in summer.
Yeah, he was clueless.
Reading subtle cues, glances, expressions to guess thoughts? He sucked at it compared to others.
But when someone was sad, he comforted them. When they struggled, he helped. And he actually did it.
Friends came naturally from that.
That's how he'd lived.
That's how he'd keep living.
If only it hadn't been that female-dominated company...
He'd spammed applications everywhere out of desperation and ended up there.
Should've just stayed unemployed longer.
At least if the gender ratio had been even, he could've bonded with the guys. Water under the bridge now.
“Social awareness and emotional response are separate, huh...”
Lucy rested her chin on her chest atop the fence. cleavage surging up to her throat.
“So what emotion are you feeling toward me right now, boy?”
“Worry.”
“For a girl you just met yesterday? Just 'cause she's a grad student?”
“First time meeting, yeah.”
Knowledge from the original story was one-sided info.
But.
“We're neighbors. Neighbors help each other out.”
“......Neighbors.”
Lucy murmured it back, then burst out laughing.
“Heh, hehehe.”
“...Did I say something weird?”
“No, heh, hehehe... it's just you being you... hehehehe...”
It wasn't weird.
She just found the words delightful.
'Helping because we're neighbors.'
Living in the noble dorms made it obvious: Lucy was nobility too.
And among nobles, neighbors were more likely to snarl and feud.
Yet Gilliam's words felt utterly sincere—no pretense, no flattery.
She could see it in his eyes.
She felt his honesty.
How could anyone have such a pure, clear heart?
He's such a boy.
And he was right.
Grad life was slowly rotting her from the inside.
Of course, he probably doesn't know it that deeply.
Just general sympathy for grad students...
But even so.
It hit home.
The boy's comfort sank into her chest.
Into her heart.
“Heh, hehehe...”
Something hot welled up inside. Her throat tightened.
“Here.”
The boy handed her steaming tea. When did he even...?
Lucy took the cup.
“You spiked this to knock me out and pounce, right?”
“...?”
Gilliam stared at her seriously.
“Why the hell would I do that?”
“...Eep.”
Lucy let a weird noise slip without thinking.
What was that? Why so serious?
Maybe...
He doesn't even need drugs?
Implying a night with Lucy Merhantia was effortless—no tricks required?
...Bold boy. But that's your delusion.
She wasn't that easy.
No way she'd toss away her purity for some boy she met yesterday sweet-talking her into bed.
Right? Obviously.
To confirm, she imagined it.
Sure, questioning if she even needed confirmation was a red flag, but whatever—she closed her eyes and pictured Gilliam Everchess.
Mysterious silver-gray hair.
Honey-sweet eyes.
Cool, handsome face.
Perfectly tall—not too much, just right to look up to.
Slim yet toned body. Uniform suited him perfectly.
That Gilliam lifted her chin roughly, savagely.
- Hey, Lucy. Spread your legs.
Then she'd naturally respond with...
“Y-Yes... ♡”
Eh?
Lucy jolted, trembling. Hot tea spilled onto her hand.
“Kyaa!?”
“Careful.”
Gilliam grabbed her hand. A man's hand—delicate-looking but thick. How would it feel gripping her waist?
“Uh, ah, ugh.”
Weird sounds came from Lucy's throat.
“...You okay? Wanna head inside and rest?”
Gilliam's face drew close. Up this near, he was even hotter.
But what'd he just say?
Head inside and rest?
...Together?