Freshman Johan36's Headband Hunt
I want to join the student council.
Not only would it let me get even closer to Scarlett sunbae, but as a student council staffer, I'd get to wield some real power. Being on the council comes with all sorts of perks, after all.
But to make that happen, I need to ace these exams first. Practical's no big deal, but theory's a pain in the ass.
Thank god I prepared ahead of time.
I called Bianca over. She showed up in my dorm room wearing her brown robe.
Of course, she was buck naked underneath. On my orders, this is her fixed outfit whenever she comes to see me.
"Sloppy doggy."
"Woof! Woof!"
Whenever she meets me, she has to greet me as the sloppy doggy. She lies on her back like a pup exposing its belly, legs spread wide toward the ceiling, pussy on full display in all its lewd glory.
It's a way to confirm her pussy's healthy and clean while getting her all sloppy wet with her own perverse excitement—a warm-up for service.
I planted my bare foot on Bianca's pussy. Her slick juices enveloped my toes. As I pressed down, sticky strands of her arousal stretched like threads between her folds and my foot. When I lifted it, the web-like goo snapped with a viscous pop, creating the most arousing visual spectacle.
"Meeeow~♥"
Bianca's instincts were sharpening by the day. She was starting to feel more and more like a succubus. Her sex-pickled brain might even outdo a real one in depravity.
I set my foot on her face, and she eagerly started sucking my toes, lapping greedily at the slick coating of her own juices. Watching her lost in ecstasy fueled a dark surge of conquest in my chest.
Time to pierce her and tattoo my name on her for good.
Bianca was my fucktoy. Marking a tool with its owner's name is only natural.
"Bianca. Speak like a person, not sloppy doggy."
"Yesss~♥ Master."
"First, kiss Master Cock."
"Yesss~♥"
Bianca crawled forward on all fours, pressing her face to my crotch. Her expression was thick with lust as she brought her lips to the tip.
"Master Cock~! Did you rest well today? Your meat toilet and sloppy doggy Bianca comes to greet you~!"
She planted a smacking kiss on the glans.
All thanks to the power of training. Education really is the great plan for a century.
"How was your sloppy time today?"
"I woke up this morning thinking of your mighty little master and masturbated twice. Last night I rubbed off about four times before sleeping, so there wasn't much juice. During class, I almost fingered myself thinking of little master. At lunch, I did it once in the bathroom, then came back to the dorm and got my sloppy wet thinking about serving master."
"Excellent."
I slid into Bianca's pussy.
It was slick as if oiled, smooth enough for a fly to skate across. Her skills as a meat toilet surpassed any succubus.
Squelch! Squelch! Squelch!
I came inside her twice.
"Huuuuh~♥"
I nudged her dazed head with my foot.
"Bianca. I have something to say."
"Huuuuh~♬ Y-yes... I'll listen."
"Can your Seven Star Hall pull some answer sheets for me?"
The Seven Star Hall was the secret society Bianca belonged to. Over long years, they'd infiltrated deep into the academy, wielding invisible power. They pulled off that serial killer incident without getting caught—a testament to their influence.
"Of course~♥ The society hands out exam papers in advance to focus on the greater cause."
"Oh ho. In that case, perfect scores should be easy."
"Sudden perfects might draw suspicion, so society students adjust their scores moderately. And leaked papers only cover theory anyway."
"That's enough. Get me the swordsmanship exam papers."
"Yes~♥ Heeek~!"
I came in her pussy one more time.
The academy exams span several days. Schedules vary by year and department. For swordsmanship, theory comes first, then practical.
Theory lasted three full days: history, law, arithmetic, philosophy, and swordsmanship theory.
All boring as hell. And the problems were brutally tough—plenty of classmates struggled.
Subjects like history and law were set by magic department teachers. STEM kids tackling humanities. No wonder it was rough.
But with advance papers, it was a breeze for me. This time, I'm claiming top spot and student council entry.
Theory wrapped after three days. Now for practical.
For martial departments like swordsmanship, practical's where it's at. Classmates' tension was off the charts compared to theory. Our test site was the Hall of Trials, north of campus.
The Hall of Trials was one of Abraxis's oparts, created by Silnakwon's founder himself.
It looked like a boxy, slapdash warehouse from outside, but inside it was a masterpiece of layered magic. Think reality room on steroids with extras.
For the record, reality rooms are Abraxis oparts too.
"First, headcount."
Instructor Bernehardt Line tallied us up. First-year swordsmanship had just over 100 students.
She called roll one by one. Once done, she explained the exam. We'd heard it before, but we listened again.
"Listen up. The moment you enter the Hall of Trials, the test begins. Instructions appear inside. To quit midway, just shout 'I forfeit.' No matter how hurt you get inside, you're healed outside—so don't baby yourselves."
Simple stuff. She scanned us and asked,
"Questions?"
Silence. She nodded and approached the Hall's door—a heavy iron gate with a thick padlock.
She pulled a golden key from her cleavage and unlocked it. With a creak, the seal hit the ground.
"Enter one by one as called. Zazli Veneto."
"Yes!"
Tense students filed in one or two at a time. Practical exam underway.
My name came up. I winked at Bernehardt and stepped in. She huffed and looked away—adorably cute.
Inside the Hall of Trials was a world apart. Despite being indoors, a dense forest stretched out. The original novel never detailed how it worked.
Space expansion magic? Or teleport to another dimension? Definitely spatial magic.
Not a magic expert, so details escape me. Clearly some hyper-complex principle beyond me.
Looking up, a blue sky. Illusion? Real?
The cool breeze on my cheek and sunlight filtering through felt too genuine for fake. But in a world where illusions fool senses, who knows.
Please put on the headband in front of you.
A notification popped up like a game window. Different from my Unix Cube's. Another power of the Hall of Trials.
A blue headband appeared with it—like for sports day. I grabbed it as instructed.
The exam lasts 3 hours total. Your score rises with the number of headbands collected during that time.
Same as the original.
Dead simple: loiter for three hours. But for top score, defense alone won't cut it.
Per the notice, more headbands mean higher score—so aggression is key for top marks.
I tied the headband on my forehead.
Please take the sword in front of you.
A real sword appeared—same size and weight as our class wooden ones. It felt solid in my grip.
Good luck.
The exam had begun. So simple, my strategy was straightforward.
Just rip headbands off every bastard I see.
For first place, collect the most. With just over 100 first-years, 50 should clinch it.
Better hunt the others quick.
The forest looked vast. Over 100 students scattered—not easy to bump into. For max speed, move fast.
I roamed with Darkness Radar. Found my first mark in under five minutes.
Some extra guy not in the original. Pointy ears—beastkin? Ronin tribe?
"Eek!"
He spotted me, sword up in guard. His blue headband fluttered. Tense voice barked,
"G-get away! I don't wanna fight!"
"Too bad. I'm itching for one."
I closed without waiting. Five steps to range. Eyes on his blade tip, I dove in deep.
"Eeeek! Go away!"
Too panicked—his swings sloppy, no form at all.
Less swordsmanship, more wild flailing. Thug with a blade, not a swordsman.
"Snoozing in class?"
Clang! Clink! Crash!
Three exchanges, and his sword flew spinning. He threw up both hands.
"I-I surrender! Please spare me!?"
"Hand over the headband."
I yanked it off. He flailed, but a kick to the chest sent him tumbling. Pathetic—not worth calling a swordsman.
"This'll be fucking easy."
No vanishing or anything when he lost it.
Guess you just grab another if you lose yours?
No mention of elimination at zero, so probably. I moved on to hunt more.