The Incubus System Chapter 1368. Give Me Straight A+

The Incubus System Chapter 1368. Give Me Straight A+

“Like, actually peaceful,” I went on, still not looking at him. “Not pretending to be calm while bottling everything up. Not faking sanity for the sake of appearances. I didn’t want to kill them, Larry. I didn’t want to fight. I wanted them to just leave me the hell alone. Let me live my life.”

I finally looked at him.

“They disagreed.”

Larry didn’t speak for a second. Then he reached out and patted my shoulder once. It wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t dramatic. Just a quiet, weighty gesture.

“You okay, buddy?”

I was silent for a beat longer than I should’ve been.

Then I lied.

“I’m fine.”

Because what else was I supposed to say? That I just murdered five divine beings and now my brain felt like an empty coffee cup someone forgot to rinse out?

Nah.

I exhaled and reached into my mind. One flick of will and the Devil Space snapped closed. The classroom shimmered. The dome vanished. The lights flickered once. And then the world… resumed.

And yeah, the moment reality knitted back together, chaos bloomed around us.

Our friends blinked, confused. A few of them jumped in their seats. Someone gasped. A chair scraped loudly across the tile. A pencil rolled off a desk.

The professor straightened like someone had just unpaused him mid-gesture. He blinked rapidly, then squinted directly at us.

“Mr. Grandroar. Mr. Strongheart…” His voice was sharp, clipped, just on the edge of suspicious. “How could you disappear and then reappear just like that?”

I cracked my neck lazily and snapped my fingers.

“Illusion.”

A soft ripple moved through the room, invisible but very real.

[What do you want to show them?]

“Me and Larry have been in the classroom the whole time,” I murmured under my breath. “Also, please make him re-explain the subject again.”

The room blinked. Just once. Like a soft flicker of memory. Then everything reset.

The professor froze for a second. Then shook his head like he was fighting a headache. “Now, as I was saying earlier about business contract theory…”

He turned back to the board and resumed the lesson, gesturing with his pen and tapping at a glowing presentation slide.

I started taking notes. Just like I hadn’t been slicing through angel bodies two minutes ago. Just like everything was perfectly normal.

Larry stared at me like I’d grown a second head.

He leaned in.

“Dude,” he whispered, voice low and awed. “You can hypnotize him?”

I kept writing.

“Illusion. Not hypnosis. It's technically a memory override with an observational lock. More like suggestion plus stagecraft.”

Larry’s mouth dropped open slightly. “Wait… all the people in this room?”

“Yup.”

His eyebrows shot up. He slowly closed his notebook, pushed it to the side, and looked at me like I’d just told him Santa was real and taking job applications.

“Then why the hell am I taking notes?”

I blinked at him, frowned, then stared at his stupid grin.

“Larry—”

“I’m serious!” he whispered excitedly. “Just hypnotize him. Make him give me straight A+ and write a recommendation letter for me and declare me his favorite student.”

I winced like he’d just farted in a church.

“That’s not how it works!” I hissed, slapping his shoulder with the back of my hand. “That’s abuse of demonic power.”

“But you just altered the entire classroom’s memory!”

“I didn’t make anyone fall in love with you or think you were smart,” I muttered. “I’m just avoiding confusion and long explanation.”

“That’s worse,” he said.

“You know what’s worse than that? Angel blood still in my teeth,” I said, deadpan.

Larry visibly recoiled. “Ugh, dude! Why’d you say it like that?”

I smirked.

“Oh my God,” he whispered. “You’re unhinged.”

“Maybe,” I said. “But at least I’m passing this class. Take your notes. Study well. Or your parents will throw your beloved ‘Nana-chan’ away.”

“D*ck,” he muttered.

“You’re welcome,” I whispered back.

Larry grumbled beside me and flipped a page in his notebook so violently it tore halfway down the middle. He was glaring at me like I’d insulted his actual girlfriend, which, considering how much he adored that body pillow, wasn’t too far off.

“She’s innocent,” he said.

I paused mid-sentence, pen still hovering above my notes. “…What?”

“Nana-chan,” he said with the full seriousness of a guy defending his waifu in a murder trial. “She’s done nothing wrong. She gives emotional support and spine-stretching night posture. I won’t let you disrespect her name.”

“She’s a glorified fabric tube filled with stuffing,” I whispered, voice deadpan.

“She’s more real than half my exes,” he snapped.

I blinked at him. “Larry. You never have a girlfriend.”

He tched. “Nana never cheats. Nana never lies. Nana never eats the last pudding cup.”

“Because she doesn’t have a mouth!” I hissed.

“Exactly. She listens.”

I was about to snap back when a throat cleared. Loudly.

Our professor had stopped mid-lecture and was now staring directly at us. The room was too quiet again, students half-turned in their seats, waiting for someone to die.

“Mr. Grandroar,” the professor said, adjusting his glasses, “tell me about business contract theory.”

Oh yes.

I turned slowly to look at Larry.

He was pale. But his jaw was set. He took a deep breath, tapped his pencil twice on the desk, and… started speaking.

“A business contract,” Larry said, surprisingly clear and confident, “is a legally binding agreement between two or more parties that outlines mutual obligations. The theory behind it focuses on offer, acceptance, consideration, capacity, and legality.”

I blinked. So did the professor.

The professor narrowed his eyes slightly. “And the foundational requirement?”

Larry didn’t miss a beat. “Mutual consent. Both parties must willingly agree to the terms, with full understanding and no coercion. And for enforceability, there must be a clear offer, unambiguous acceptance, and consideration… something of value exchanged.”

The class stared at him like someone had replaced Larry with a law student who actually showed up to class.

“…Correct,” the professor finally said. “Please pay attention, Mr. Grandroar.”

Larry gave a stiff nod like he’d just defused a bomb, then slumped back down in his chair. The moment the professor turned, his head slowly turned to me.

I shook my head in disbelief and looked out the window as if I was looking for something.

Larry tilted his head. “What are you looking for?”

“A sign,” I said dryly. “Maybe some apocalypse-level angels swooping down again. Doomsday level stuff.”

He blinked. “Why?”

I didn’t look at him. “Because you answered everything right.“