The Addictive Sweetness of Victory
"Kyaaah—! If only there was a beer here, it'd be perfect."
The only downside was that, as a student, I couldn't get my hands on booze. I lay on the bed and checked the quest window.
Objectives:
📍 Perfect score on written exam (???)
📍 Win the tournament (1/1)
Rewards: Stella Iritz's Wish Coupon, Affinity Increase
Failure: Random Heirloom Deletion, Affinity Decrease
I'd won the tournament. No need to explain—it was a given. Hell, I'd beaten the duke's daughter with her 4-star summons; losing to some 3-star count's kid from a no-name family would be a plot hole, right?
Shwaaa—.
Rain poured down. Fat drops splattered. Amid the drumming of rain against the window came a knock at the door.
I slowly got up and opened it. There stood Stella, her fingers wrapped in bandages. Spotting me, she flushed red like she was angry and turned away. Then she thrust a lunchbox at me with a thud.
"...Here."
"Wanna eat together?"
"No thanks—! As if I'd eat with you...!"
As she whipped her head away, I grabbed her arm and yanked her inside.
Bam—!
I slammed the door shut hard enough to worry it might break. Facing her slight tremble, I said, "Since you're here, why not eat before you go?"
"...I'm not eating."
"Fine, then just watch me."
Leading her further in, a fresh fragrance spread through the stuffy room. Probably her perfume or natural scent.
I sat at the room's table and unpacked the lunchbox. As expected from a duke's daughter: premium ingredients everywhere. Meats, seafood, dressed salads of every kind. An unbeatable combo. I shot a glance at fidgety Stella before popping a bite.
"H-how is it?"
"Mm, delicious."
"Right? Who made it? No way it could taste bad!"
Stella beamed at the praise, then realized she was happy about it and pouted.
"...Hurry up and finish. I'm busy."
"Busy with what? Oh, right, the academy's runner-up."
"I'm not runner-up yet!?"
"True, third place in the tournament makes it iffy."
"Urk...!"
She bit her lip, speechless. I polished off the lunch using her reaction as a side dish and handed back the empty box.
"Looking forward to tomorrow too."
"...Shut up."
She snatched the empty container and stormed out. I patted my full belly, flopped onto the bed, and recalled how I'd gotten her doing this.
* * *
Right after the match ended, I'd headed straight to Stella. She wasn't thrilled, brooding over her loss.
"...What do you want, loser?"
"You lost, that's that. But we had a separate bet, remember?"
"That was—."
She recalled our wager: winner of the midterms gets one wish from the loser.
"...That was about who gets first overall, not the tournament."
"You confident?"
"...What?"
"You think you can lose to me here and still top the whole exam?"
She clamped her mouth shut. Written scores weren't out yet, but unless she'd bombed it, top spot seemed impossible. She'd dropped in the quarterfinals; I'd won the whole thing. In a practical-focused academy, that gap was huge.
"Admit defeat now, and I'll give you a choice."
"...A choice?"
"Yeah, a choice."
No matter the wish coupon, I couldn't demand something outrageous like "be my mistress" or sexual favors. I needed to maximize her humiliation without looking creepy to outsiders—and milk her for all she was worth.
She perked up, intrigued. "What is it?"
"One: From now on, always answer 'Sure' to whatever I say."
"...What the hell?"
"Two: Bring me homemade lunch every day."
"Wait, what—."
She glared in contempt, but I waggled two spread fingers, urging her to pick.
"Always agreeing with you? That's insane...!"
"For example: Do you like me?"
"What!? As if I'd like a guy like you...!"
"Wrong. Say 'Sure.'"
"...So no matter what you say, I just agree?"
"Yep."
"...No food I can't eat?"
She picked the second option. Obvious, given the setup. I'd steered her there on purpose. But crucially, she chose it herself. That'd chain her psyche forever.
And so, these past days, she'd faithfully brought lunch daily. Not just meals—cakes, breads, cookies too. Added perfect snacks to my academy meals. Bonus: her humiliated face handing them over.
Krumm! Lightning cracked. Watching the dark sky flash, I thought the downpour was brutal.
'On a night like this, no one'd hear anything outside.'
Sipping tea with that thought, another knock came. No appointments, so I puzzled over to the door. A stranger: hair in a ponytail, rare glasses, not in uniform—white shirt and skirt suit. No student.
"Who...?"
"Reene, Principal Catherine's secretary."
"What's the secretary doing here?"
"The principal wants you... Were you eating?"
She sniffed the lingering lunch scent. I shook my head, shut the door, and followed her out.
Reene said nothing en route to the principal's office. I eyed her twitching back until we arrived.
"She's waiting inside."
"...Thanks."
I entered. Steam rose from a prepared teapot; Catherine smiled leisurely, like she'd timed it perfectly. The secretary shut the door with a click, locking me in.
I nodded to Catherine; she gestured to the sofa with a smile. "Sit."
"...Excuse me."
The cushion was magically soft, like sinking into clouds. She pushed a cup my way. "Jasmine tea. Like it?"
"...Not really."
"Kids these days can't appreciate it."
I mimicked her, lifting the cup and pretending to sniff—like I knew tea etiquette. 'What the hell smells?'
A cloying aroma wafted up. Not bad, but drinking it? Grimace-worthy. I held my breath, chugged it. Bitter tang burned inside.
"...Stomach okay? It's hot."
"F-fine, cough! ...I'm good."
"Careful now."
She fetched an envelope from her desk. Familiar. Too familiar.
'My exam paper?'
"Recognize this?"
She broke the seal, pulled out the sheets, laid them out, and began.
"Shocking. A cadet writing against mainstream academy theory... Normally, zero. But..."
The faculty couldn't dismiss it. This knowledge worked—contradicted established facts but proven true. Her eyes gleamed, fixing on me.
"Won't ask where you got it or who you are."
"...You sure?"
"Why not? You're our cadet. My job's protecting students and guiding them higher."
True to the academy's sole conscience, the true educator. Her character shone in the game too—super popular. I was a fan.
Hearing her speech live hit different. "So why'd you call me?"
"Ah, nothing big. Wanted your take directly. Some parts baffle me..."
"Happy to."
I shoved aside the stinky tea memory and dove into explaining, leaning close. Jasmine wafted from her.
* * *
Krumm, boom, kwarung! Thunder roared. Ears ringing, Catherine and I looked up. An hour had flown on explanations.
She leaned back, cleared her throat. "Held you too long. Sorry. Won't affect your score."
"No need, Principal. Really..."
"—Right, you got first in the tournament too."
"Yes."
No extra points needed; it was already perfect. I played humble, rejecting her offer. She smiled faintly, knowing, then eyed the torrent outside.
"You can go. With this rain, head straight back—don't wander."
"Same building anyway."
"Young blood's unpredictable."
She reminisced, lost in memories of her younger self. I watched a moment, stood, bowed. "I'll head out then."
"Careful. Had fun today."
"No, I did..."
Out of the office, back to dorms slow. Rain like heavens ruptured, lightning apocalyptic—like world's end.
'Why's it pouring like this?'
I hated rain IRL too; stayed far from windows lest splashes. Hallway dark sans lights, thunder flashing like a clock ticking. Horror movie vibe.
'Horror movie, huh.'
This world was one. Doomed without the protagonist. Chapter 1 evaluation proved it.
Demon arcs forced encounters with a mere cadet via contrived plots: poor security, ambushed teachers found by chance.
"...Can't see shit in this rain."
"Thunder'd drown cries for help."
Pieces clicked like a puzzle. I yelled without thinking.
Fuck.
Then bolted out recklessly.