Midterms Loom and Circle Lifelines
Freshman: Johan 35
Midterms were creeping up fast. The entire academy felt tense, the atmosphere thick with it.
The weight of these exams was no joke. Especially if you wanted into the student council—you needed solid grades for that. Unless your family was loaded, of course.
For students without connections, scores were pretty much the only way to stand out. No wonder the academy before exams felt like a silent battlefield.
"Ugh... I might be in trouble...."
After class, we gathered in the club room.
Senior Rias had hustled hard during recruitment week, but only Bane and I had joined. Still, she seemed satisfied with snagging two newbies.
"What? Isn't Bane a straight-A student?"
Senior Rias said it while eyeing Bane scribbling furiously in her notebook.
Right now, Bane was buried in exam prep. She'd spread out a textbook full of dense, mind-bending theory and was jotting notes like mad. As a swordsmanship major, I had no clue what any of it meant. Not that I'd get it even if I were in magic.
"Theory's my strong suit, but practicals... I'm kinda weak there."
Bane looked glum as she vented, and Senior Rias flashed a grin.
"Then how about your senior tutor you a bit? Looks can be deceiving—my practical scores are killer. Total opposite of you: I'm great in the field, but theory? Total disaster."
Her chem experiments always blew up because of shaky theory, probably.
"Really!? I'd appreciate it!"
It was nice seeing magic club seniors and juniors hyping each other up like that. Classic club perk.
"Johan. You good for midterms?"
Senior Rias turned to me with the question.
"Same as you, Senior—practicals are my jam, but theory... if I don't flunk outright, I'll call it a win."
Theory studying was boring beyond belief. Plus, once I left this worldline, it'd all be useless trivia. No idea why I had to cram it into my head. History especially.
"You know about the grade retention policy, right? Slack off, and you'll be stuck taking classes with next year's freshmen."
Just like Senior Rias said, the academy had a brutal retention system. I didn't remember the details, but wasn't it the bottom 10% by average got held back?
They sliced off the bottom percentile and forced retention no matter what, so dropouts were inevitable every year. The student council demanding grades was probably to dodge scandals that'd tarnish their rep.
"No retention for you, Johan...."
Bane gave me those heartbreaking puppy eyes. No way was I getting held back, either.
"Swordsmanship's 30% theory, 70% practicals, so even if I bomb theory, nailing practicals should save me. How's alchemy?"
"Opposite for us: 70% theory, 30% practicals. Alchemy lives or dies by theory."
"Wait. So how do you manage, Senior?"
"Heh heh. Truth is, I'm always teetering on the edge of retention myself. It's so unfair! A field genius like me stressing over grades every year!"
Senior Rias wasn't exactly in a position to judge.
Figures. The original novel mentioned her grade struggles a few times.
"Anyway, guess we'll be hitting the books hard for a bit."
Saying that, Senior Rias tapped the big cauldron in the middle of the club room. The bubbling pink liquid inside settled with a final gurgle.
"Uh, how's the contraception potion coming?"
"Yep, almost done. But I need a few more ingredients. Pricey ones."
Senior Rias glanced at the cauldron and sighed softly.
"Sigh~ My side gigs are mouse-tails 'cause I'm all-in on this potion. No stock to sell to the kids. Hate to say it to the newbies, but we're in a bind."
"Want me to chip in some funds?"
I swear her hair stood on end like an excited cat spotting treats, tail straight up.
"Huh!? Financial support? For real?"
"Of course. Can't just watch you bust your ass running the club solo. Breaks my heart."
"Haha! Really? Sweet, but... feels like fleecing my junior. I won't say no if you insist, but don't overdo it?"
Her words said one thing, but those desperate, half-threatening eyes begged hard. Who could resist that?
"Johan. You're rich?"
Bane blinked at me in mild shock.
"Not rich, just came into some spare cash."
Profits from the forget-me-not deals. Jake was as competent as in the original, handling my supply like a pro. He skimmed a bit behind my back, but it was forgivable.
I pulled out a pouch with 5 million kant.
"Whoa... five million kant!? That's a ton!"
Senior Rias gawked at the contents.
Five million kant.
In real-world terms, about five million won.
In an academy crawling with rich kids, plenty could drop that casually. Didn't make it pocket change, though.
For a cash-strapped club leader like Senior Rias, it was a godsend. Pennies to me, with my monthly fixed income over 100 million kant.
"Whoa! Johan, you are a rich kid~!"
"Think what you want."
"Thanks~! One worry down! This'll finish the potion for sure. Prototype goes to you first."
"J-Johan doesn't need that stuff!"
Bane flushed and piped up from the side.
Senior Rias smirked mischievously at her. Pure teasing intent.
"You sure? Johan's a guy—and hot as hell. In this academy full of tempting girls, who wouldn't jump him?"
"W-Well, yeah, but..."
"Even us succubi have bets on who beds him first. Bane, stake your claim quick or rivals'll snatch him up."
Senior Rias's blunt advice reeked of voyeurism. But oh well—three girls had already shared my bed.
Bianca, Momo, Bernehardt.
Cold truth: Bane was late to the party.
Wanna bag Senior Rias too, but no openings yet. Thought succubi'd be easy.
Her defenses were ironclad. No sweat, though. The angle would come eventually. The academy was my all-you-can-eat buffet—no need to obsess over one dish.
"You two study hard, then. I'll get out of your hair."
Out of the club room. Fewer students than usual—everyone hunkered down studying, I guessed.
Even active clubs had switched to self-study mode. Midterm season had definitely hit.
"Hey~! Johan!"
Senior Momo's voice. White tee and bloomers—prime volleyball club uniform.
"Senior Momo."
"You haven't come by lately. Bored of me already?"
Her puffed cheeks were adorable as she griped. Lately, alternating between Bianca and Bernehardt had stretched my Momo sessions a tad.
"No way. No fleshlight as devoted as you, Senior."
Glanced around—no one nearby—and gave her ass a squeeze.
"Re~ally~! Outside, y'know. Even for a succubus, this bold..."
"Why? Hate it?"
"Don't hate it. Just... strict teachers might nag."
She pressed into my hand slyly. I matched her, fingers dancing expertly.
Her body heated up fast. Any more and we'd fuck right there, so I pulled back.
"No other seniors around? Solo?"
"Yeah. Just finished club room cleanup. We wrap early during exams, so the others headed to dorms."
"Midterms okay for you, Senior?"
"Ugh... borderline pass.... Think I'll dodge retention, though. Theory sucks, but practicals are decent."
Succubus trait: book-dumb?
Made sense—smart succubi might break the archetype. Even Senior Rias struggled with theory.
I parted with Senior Momo and headed to the student council building.
"Isn't it midterm season?"
Senior Scarlett, reviewing docs in the office, shot me a look as I entered.
"Yep."
"And you've got time to goof off?"
"Says the one buried in work, not studying."
"I finished this semester's prep over break."
Casual monster talk from Senior Scarlett. Student council secretary material?
"Figures—the guy who turned Sun and Hill into wastelands won't sweat practicals. Swordsmanship's 70% practicals, 30% theory, right?"
"You know your stuff. What major are you?"
"Magic department, special magic track. Ours is 60% practicals—high for magic. Easy for me. Theory needs talent and grind time."
Senior Scarlett was straight-up genius. Canon from the novel.
"Don't get cocky on practicals alone. Know about subject fails?"
"Subject fails? News to me."
"Theory profs mentioned it.... Accumulate 'em, and it's retention."
Right, that rule. Kinda screws me. Theory grind just got less optional.
"Top scorers get student council perks, too. Semester toppers and runners-up skip interviews."
"Oho. So could I work next to you, Senior Scarlett?"
"No personal secretary... but if you join, maybe."
"Motivation surging! Speaking of—when's our date?"
"Not a date! Just an outing. Sigh... fine. Week after exams."
"Deal! Promised!"
Physical distance closes the emotional gap, too.