The aroma of pizza barely managed to dispel the earlier awkwardness, and at last, a sense of relaxed camaraderie settled over the room, as if this were a real team dinner.
Ingrid and Sakika, sipping on cola, began to casually discuss their roles in future squad battles.
“My Behemoth bloodline should let me take the front line. I’m tough!” Ingrid gestured earnestly, her tone serious.
“Draw the enemy’s fire and create chances for you all!”
Sakika took a small bite of her pizza crust, calmly analyzing.
“My speed and sword-drawing skills are suited for ambushes, or one-hit kill decapitations at critical moments.”
She paused, looking over at Huayin, who had barely spoken.
“Huayin’s flames can provide large-scale ranged suppression and clearing. She’s the standard mage position, right?”
Huayin absentmindedly hummed in response, her focus entirely elsewhere.
Her sharp red eyes were locked tightly on Ange, sitting directly across from her.
Unnoticed by the others, Ange’s body had tensed up at some point, the hand holding her pizza trembling slightly, knuckles turning white from the force of her grip.
Beads of cold sweat formed at her temple, and several strands of her silver hair clung to her flushed cheeks, making the redness seem all the more unnatural.
But most striking were her eyes—those usually lazy violet pupils now seemed veiled in mist, shrinking slightly, desperately suppressing something within.
The instant her gaze met Huayin’s, she looked away in a flash, as if burned, her embarrassment plain to see.
Huayin sneered inwardly. No need to guess; it was obviously that damn Magic Mark acting up again.
What a useless teacher. Can’t even hold out this long?
But for Ange at this moment, what she was enduring was a struggle far worse than the burning of the Magic Mark.
That familiar sensation, shooting from her spine straight to the crown of her head, surged over her again—stronger than ever before.
She had to take care of it immediately, or the consequences would be unimaginable.
But now she faced a choice unlike any she’d ever known.
If she wanted to keep serving as Commander for this squad—leading them on missions, not cowering in the bathroom like a ticking time bomb—she would have to learn to… solve the problem even with others present.
The mere thought made her shiver.
In front of everyone?! What a joke!
She was once the top Demon Hunter! Even putting aside her past glory, deep down she was still… once a man! Even if her body had changed, her mind was still painfully adapting.
How could she possibly do something so private, so connected to her final scraps of dignity and shame, with everyone watching?
Impossible! Absolutely impossible!
Yet reality loomed overhead like a sword—if she couldn’t manage, she’d never truly be a fit Commander.
What awaited her then was likely being “invited” back by the Phoenix Family, to complete that absurd marriage with Huayin.
Speaking of which… marrying into a wealthy family didn’t sound so bad, did it?
At least there’d be no worries about food, no need to fret over pizza money… A tempting, slacker voice sounded in her mind.
But in the next second, she imagined Huayin’s contemptuous red eyes, full of “just as I thought, what a useless failure.”
No! Absolutely not! That would make her nothing but a freeloading, dignity-less big sister in Huayin’s eyes!
Pride and reality clashed fiercely in her mind, nearly tearing her apart.
In the end, at least for today, at this moment, what pride and shame she had left still won out.
Forget it… I’ll just go to the bathroom.
She thought in despair. Worst case, I’ll just tell them I have chronic enteritis or something… Maybe these heiresses will actually believe such a lame excuse…
Decision made, Ange quietly, almost soundlessly, put down the pizza crust, and stood up.
“I… I’m going to the bathroom,” she said, her voice a bit hoarse, with a barely noticeable tremor.
Ingrid immediately shot her a look of concern.
“Miss Ange, are you alright? Was the pizza too greasy?”
Ange didn’t dare look at her, muttering a vague response, then hurried unsteadily toward the room’s tiny attached bathroom, as if pursued by demons.
Watching Ange flee in such panic, worry was written all over Ingrid’s face.
Huayin couldn’t take it anymore. She looked at Ingrid’s innocent, concerned eyes, and at Sakika’s seemingly calm but perhaps also curious expression—a wave of impulse surged up within her.
She really wanted to rip off Ange’s flimsy mask and tell them: She’s not going because of an upset stomach, but because she has to deal with that damned Succubus Curse!
But the words stuck in her throat and she swallowed them back.
She remembered Ange’s look of shame and desperation just now, remembered her stubborn refusal to lose control in public… Huayin clicked her tongue in annoyance.
Forget it, just… let this idiot teacher keep her last shred of face.
She took a deep breath, and with a blend of resignation and irritation, made up a half-believable excuse for Ange on her own.
“Don’t mind her. She just secretly bought a big bottle of cola earlier and couldn’t resist drinking it all by herself. That’s what she gets for being greedy.”
Huayin rolled her eyes, working hard to make her expression seem like nothing but annoyance.
Ingrid had a sudden realization, quickly followed by fresh concern.
“Huh? Miss Ange would do that? If she loves cola that much, should I buy her a whole case? We really ought to get a bigger fridge for the dorm, too!”
She was already seriously considering ways to improve Ange’s quality of life.
At that moment, Sakika, who had been quietly listening, suddenly spoke up, the topic shifting without warning.
“Ingrid, Huayin, are you both heiresses from great families?” Her tone was still calm, as if conducting a social survey.
Huayin eyed her warily.
“What for?”
Sakika answered solemnly.
“I have no elders to rely on above, no children to support me below, and I really need money. If your families ever need some… less-than-public personal work, like assassination, intelligence gathering, or cleaning house, I can take on the job. Fair prices, efficiency first.”
Huayin’s face turned dark at once.
“No need! The Phoenix Family handles things properly—we don’t get our hands dirty with that kind of business.”
Ingrid hurriedly waved her hands, though her tone was much gentler.
“Sakika, the Academy’s official assignments and black market commissions both pay really well! If you’re short on cash, I can lend you some first! No interest needed!”
Sakika shook her head, declining sincerely.
“Thank you, Ingrid-san, but it’s fine. I really don’t want to owe favors, especially not monetary ones.”
She fell silent for a moment, hesitating over whether to continue, but in the end she just added quietly,
“Actually… never mind.”
Huayin was piqued by her hesitance.
“What is it?”
Sakika lifted her pitch-black eyes, glanced at the firmly closed bathroom door, then at her two classmates, and finally shook her head lightly.
“It’s nothing. I just want to use the bathroom too.”
What she didn’t tell them was that, as a Mammon Bloodline inheritor, her senses—especially her hearing—were abnormally sharp.
Sharp enough that… even through a door, she could clearly hear inside the bathroom—the stifled, yet inescapably audible sounds of pain and pleasure, tangled together in every breath and whimper.
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