Junk Car Out, Luxury Sedan In
They say when a junk car leaves, a luxury sedan rolls in—Tsuchimikado Ren.
Her face rang a faint bell.
The miko outfit you only see in cosplay back in Korea. A slender frame overall, meticulously maintained, with curves that curved sharply where they counted. Silky black hair like fine satin, and those signature golden eyes.
Her appearance screamed traditional elite in every way—hard to forget.
"Joking around from the jump? Feels like it was just yesterday I sliced you to bits with my own hands."
"I knew the Korean Academy was hardcore from the start. But more importantly... you're not going to take my hand?"
"You spring a sudden 'be my fiancé' on me—how am I supposed to grab that?"
She was one of the freshmen who'd gotten shredded by my space-severing technique during the freshman rep tournament.
Even amid the swarming newbies, her face had stuck in a corner of my memory—especially while I was dealing with Choi Taeseong.
"No clue what your angle is, but count me out. I'm done tangling with noble houses."
I had zero bandwidth for more headaches in this already fucked-up present life.
Pushing an engagement without even showing terms? As bold as it was, it screamed complications.
Plus, the Tsuchimikado family traced back to the legendary onmyoji, Abe no Seimei. Peak of the pyramid in Japan. Someone worth sending abroad for study had to be a key direct-line member.
Otherworld. Magic. Sorcery. Academy. Gongmyeongdang. Hwaseong Group.
Too much on my plate already—I took a step back, ignoring her outstretched hand.
"...You're tougher than I expected. This puts me in a bind."
Ren's eyes drooped in feigned regret as she closed the gap with two bold steps, no hesitation.
Then she clasped my right hand firmly between both of hers—a blatant declaration she wasn't letting go.
"Not aiming for actual marriage or anything. Call it a sham engagement. I promise it's no loss for you."
"A sham engagement...?"
So not even a real proposal from the start.
My ego, which had perked up a notch, deflated right back.
Beauty on par with my high-elf mentor Estella, plus noble house pedigree.
Pathetic that I'd gotten briefly excited.
...Of course. No way someone like her approached without an agenda.
A vague emptiness killed my drive to keep talking—just then, Ren glanced around cautiously and dropped a nugget.
"...Hwaseong Group's on the move—something's up. Tsuchimikado intel. Worth a few minutes, no?"
She wielded her looks and status like weapons, then baited with info like a pro.
That upward gaze, the pitiful expression shift.
I saw through the calculations, but damn if she didn't come off as a sly fox you couldn't quite hate.
"Fine, I'll listen."
Hwaseong dirt for free? Might as well humor her a bit.
She led me to a swanky cafe with private rooms.
True to form for meeting a Japanese girl, two matcha lattes steamed on the table.
"Side note: Korea's academy system is revolutionary. All lectures optional? Let me snag first dibs on you."
"Most sorcery we'll use is family secrets anyway. Efficient setup."
A typical sorcerer's arsenal topped out at three spells.
One main from the family secret arts, two generic subs as backups.
Academy lectures skewed basic theory—low priority since most wrapped early training at home.
Unless you were a weirdo like me, mentoring knowledge back to Estella, few stuck around.
"But why me?"
"...Others treat you like a plague sore. Saw an opening. Us exchange students are outside Korea's power games."
Leaking Void Resonance Art had locked me in feud with Hwaseong—inevitable.
Gongmyeongdang level? Whatever. But Hwaseong was a powerhouse.
No one risked backlash to approach.
But a foreign powerhouse like Tsuchimikado? Different story.
"I rate you high. No family secrets? Still, you refined Void Resonance Art solo. Probed your ten-year Binding too. What prize did that genius trade his future for?"
"You make me sound like husband material."
"Hm... Top-tier? Nah. Personality deduction. Dumping a family secret like that? Too reckless."
I scowled despite myself.
Even after direct death threats?
Then again, plenty shun whistleblowers for the 'greater good.'
Private revenge? Social poison.
"Plus major points off for beefing hard with Hwaseong. Raw talent's rare, but few houses bet on trouble."
"Even among exchange kids, opinions split on you."
"Can't be helped. Wasn't dying quietly."
Her sunny smile while docking points was infuriating.
If she'd lowballed the recruit pitch, I'd have shut it down.
"So? Why pick me? Sham engagement—your solo play?"
"Lying to a betrayed man? Worst taboo."
Ren dropped the sly smile cold, face hardening to stone.
Fawning vibe gone—pure resolve left.
"Know the exchange students' real goal?"
"Same as anywhere. Cultural exchange, specialist knowledge... and sorcerer house alliances."
"You get it—but there's one more."
She leaned in, voice dropping low as she spat it out slow.
"Honey traps to steal foreign secrets and bloodlines. Snag a direct heir, own the house."
"Kidnapping brides used to be big, huh."
"Might still happen..."
Her eyes darkened—opposite her first impression. Our locked gazes screamed she hated it.
"I'm beautiful, right?"
"...Outta nowhere."
"Objectively? Prime bride material. Looks, body, grace, smarts, power. All crafted to stoke possession."
Ren muttered bitterly, grabbing her massive chest bulge like it disgusted her—raw display.
"Nation-toppling beauty. Lure a guy to betray his house, devour him. Tsuchimikado's job for me."
"No half-measures."
"Successes? Fingers on one hand over centuries."
Slim odds, but they'd drilled her perfect.
Up close now, not a single flaw.
Yamato Nadeshiko incarnate—man's dream. Body curved like overdone 2D waifu, nails and lashes flawless.
No wonder I'd compared her to an elf.
"Don't wanna waste my life on long shots. Even if I win? Just a baby factory for the house."
"...Then targeting a no-house lone wolf like me? Wrong move. No secrets or bloodline to hand over."
Admirable ambition—but irrelevant to me.
No downsides? Still, pointless meddling.
"Just play along. Fooling the house? My gig. Trained elite—excuses galore."
Thinking she'd hooked me, Ren smiled anew.
Crossed legs smooth, twisted waist, chest popped open a tease.
"Simple terms. Till academy graduation. No love? No wedding. Payoff: Tsuchimikado pull I can wield. ...And if you want, my body a bit?"
My reply shot out on reflex.
"Pass."
"Eh?"
"Skip that. Spill the Hwaseong intel."
Trained seduction? After ten years blue-balling under Estella? Please.
Engaged since Gongmyeongdang adoption. Even shoved away my innocent mentor out of duty.
...Knew Gong Seoyul would betray—should've made her main wife early.
Her skills fell short for my defenses.
Tsuchimikado Ren handed over prepped docs in a daze; I snatched them and bounced.
Ignored her frantic stops. No reason to deal.
Revenge plan? Improv all the way. Smash whatever lunged.
Tsuchimikado shield vs. Hwaseong? Stalemate boredom.
Life ahead was long—why waste years on petty payback?
Still, her body nagged a bit as I hit the dorm.
Then someone waited at the gate.
"...Gong Siwoo."
Cracked voice—familiar.
Neat clothes, but exposed skin plastered in bandages.
Gong Seoyul.
My ex-fiancée who'd snuggled Choi Taeseong and sliced me off two months back.
Looked domestic-abuse wrecked.
Thud.
"H-help... I'll apologize. Beg like this... Gongmyeongdang's done! Choi Taeseong just sees me as a baby machine... Please!!"
Her eyes oozed late regret, misery, a shred of lingering attachment.
Fit yesterday—wtf happened overnight?
Taeseong really laid hands, huh.
No human pity stirred—old feelings fully purged.
Zero intent to help; idly pondering how to torment her desperate begging—
Sudden soft press from the right.
"Oh my. Isn't this the ex-fiancée?"
Tailing me? Ren Tsuchimikado clung to my arm now.
She iced Gong Seoyul, kneeling and clasping pleas.
"Stay away from my fiancé? I suit Siwoo more than trash like you."
Seoyul's eyes bulged in disbelief, tears welling—vivid.
Stark contrast.
House-bred luxury art vs. street cigarette butt.
Her despair chilled my spine.
Guess Japanese girls beat backstabbing Korean ones.
This expression alone made sham engagement worth it.