The Incubus System Chapter 1354. First Day
The Incubus System Chapter 1354. First Day
08.31 AM.
Third semester. First day.
I sat in the classroom of Diamond College, second row from the back, closest to the window… because I still needed at least a little drama in my life. Sunlight filtered through the glass, hitting my cheek in that soft, almost poetic way, and yeah, if I squinted and tilted my head just right, I could pretend I was in a coming of age anime.
But nope. No violins. No tragic backstory montage. Just me, Ethan Strongheart, back in my human form, trying not to fall asleep after ten rounds of sex with two literal demonesses and teleporting across dimensions just in time to not flunk out of business school.
I smelled like shower gel. My shirt was still a little damp near the collar.
My bag? Had exactly one working pen and maybe three sheets of paper.
My brain? Still buzzing from the night before.
And my ass? Still sore due to that stone throne.
Worth it.
But also... kind of not.
Because here I was.
In the human world.
Again.
The classroom buzzed with morning energy, chairs scraping, backpacks flopping onto the ground, that one girl chewing gum like it owed her money, the AC struggling against the heat of thirty college bodies in one room. The faint scent of coffee and perfume filled the air. The girl in front of me had a vanilla body spray that was waging war with the dude beside her’s sandalwood deodorant. They were both losing.
And beside me?
Larry Grandroar. My best friend.
God’s gift to incompetence.
Except…
I turned.
Stared.
He was… sitting upright.
Spine straight.
Eyes on the board.
And… oh my damned infernal blood, he was taking notes.
With a pen.
And real paper.
I stared at his hand for a full ten seconds just to confirm it wasn’t a prank. Then I looked at his face. Concentrated. Focused. Nodding like he was absorbing the wisdom of the ages instead of a lecture on economic inflation and consumer behavior.
What the hell happened during my absence? Did he get possessed?
Did one of the Glutton demons eat him and spit out a better version?
“…I guess the apocalypse is sooner than we thought,” I muttered.
Larry glanced at me, confused for a second, then just gave a little thumbs-up and went back to writing.
What. The. Hell.
I leaned back, blinking at the ceiling for a moment. The fluorescent lights flickered softly, the fan overhead clicking once every rotation.
And somehow…
I missed this.
This peace.
This weird, dumb, regular human world.
Where problems were about schedules, exams, and assessments.
Where people didn’t explode in hellfire. Where no one tried to bind you in blood oaths. Where a bad day meant your laptop died during a group presentation, not an infernal lord trying to assassinate you.
It was so… normal.
So fragile.
So weird.
And it made me feel like I was floating, half in, half out. Like I never truly belonged here. Like I did and didn’t. Like the Ethan Strongheart sitting here with a half-dried collar was just pretending to be a normal guy. Because somewhere deep down, I wasn’t. Not anymore.
I sighed.
Just as the professor’s voice cut through the air.
“Ethan Strongheart.”
My head snapped up. “Yes, sir?”
The professor, Mr. Halberd, balding, wire glasses, voice like chalk, paused, then said, “Repeat what I just said.”
A quiet hush fell across the room.
I felt everyone’s eyes turn to me.
Like a slow-motion movie scene.
Larry tried to help.
He tapped my arm and subtly slid his notes toward me.
But before I could even peek, the professor’s gaze sharpened like a hawk locking onto prey.
“Larry Grandroar. No cheating.”
Larry froze. Pulled the notes back with a guilty wince.
My brain clicked into place.
And then…
Something odd happened.
The part of me that had dodged hellfire blades, negotiated with sin lords, memorized battlefields, and survived demon orgies just… kicked in.
I straightened.
Took a breath.
And started talking.
“You were explaining how the rise in digital purchasing power among Gen Z demographics is affecting post the great demon attack consumer expectations, specifically in the context of service speed, product personalization, and sustainable branding. You also referenced the report from last quarter projecting a 14% increase in hybrid e-commerce engagement strategies, followed by your own take on how micro-influencer marketing is beginning to surpass traditional funnel advertising in brand trust metrics.”
Silence.
Long. Thick.
The kind that makes even the AC hesitate.
Mr. Halberd blinked. Once. Twice.
“…Correct,” he said finally. “Continue.”
I didn’t even hesitate. I rolled my shoulders and launched into the second part of his lecture, reciting it like I’d been paying attention the whole time.
I wasn’t.
I was staring at a pigeon outside.
But my demon battle instincts?
Kinda cracked.
Because when you’ve fought in the demon world, in the Abyss, where every sound could mean death, you learn to listen from every angle. To every little sound. Even while zoning out. Even while horny. Even while suffering from round two withdrawal.
When I finally finished, the professor just nodded slowly.
“Impressive.”
I smiled a little.
Larry gawked at me like I just summoned a god out of my pencil case.
“Dude,” he whispered. “What are you?”
I grinned and whispered back, “Scholarship material.”
The classroom slowly returned to normal, but now? Now I had a few people looking at me like I was some sort of secret genius.
I wasn’t.
I was just traumatized and overly alert.
The rest of the lecture dragged on, but in a good way. Familiar. The professor scrawled market graphs on the whiteboard. I doodled flames and horns on the corner of my notebook.
Larry kept scribbling notes like his life depended on it. Once or twice, he leaned over and whispered random trivia like “Did you know our econ professor used to be a Playboy?” which, honestly, was unbelievable.
When the class finally ended at 11:00, students groaned, stretched, and shuffled out like sleep-deprived zombies. I slung my bag over my shoulder and stood up, cracking my neck.