The Incubus System Chapter 1411. Angel Queen’s Boy Toy
The Incubus System Chapter 1411. Angel Queen’s Boy Toy
Silence.
Just for a second.
Then she smiled faintly.
“Interesting.”
I didn’t smile back.
Because we both knew that wasn’t just a classroom question.
She shifted her gaze to Larry.
“And you?”
Larry blinked.
“Uh. I’d merge them.”
The class laughed lightly.
He shrugged.
“What? Reduce competition.”
She nodded thoughtfully.
“A merger can be effective if managed properly.”
Larry leaned toward me slightly.
“See? I’m strategic too.”
I didn’t look at him.
“You’re chaotic.”
“Chaotic strategy.”
I almost smiled. But I couldn’t. Because I knew what she was doing. She was using business and management terms to question the balance between light and dark. And ironically, Larry answered her more like Erebus would have than I ever did. ‘Merge’ sounded peaceful. Harmless. But that was exactly what Erebus had tried to do thousands of years ago… merge the three realms
The pattern repeated throughout the class.
She asked others questions, sure.
But the deeper, more layered ones?
They came to me.
Or Larry.
It wasn’t obvious to most.
But I could feel it.
She wasn’t just checking comprehension.
She was mapping us.
Mapping how we think.
How far we think.
What direction our logic takes under pressure.
And I let her.
Because that’s the game.
You want to study me?
Fine.
I’ll give you enough to satisfy curiosity.
But not enough to weaponize.
The bell finally rang.
The sound felt like liberation.
Students began packing up immediately.
Chairs scraping. Zippers zipping. Conversations rising.
I leaned back in my seat for a second and let the tension drain out of my shoulders.
Hungry.
So hungry…
Larry stood up and stretched dramatically. “I’m starving.”
“Same.”
We started clearing our desk quietly.
We didn’t speak much.
Not because we were upset.
But because we had already spoken too much during class.
Answering questions. Deflecting subtext. Navigating glances.
My brain was tired.
Not emotionally.
Just… saturated.
I slipped my notebook into my bag and zipped it shut.
Food.
That was the next objective.
We stood up together.
And that’s when I felt it.
The stares.
Subtle at first.
Then heavier.
I looked around casually.
Multiple classmates were glancing at us.
Not hostile exactly.
Just… curious.
Suspicious.
A guy two rows back was whispering to the girl next to him while staring at us.
Larry noticed too.
“Why are you guys looking at us like that?” he asked bluntly.
No filter.
One of them shrugged awkwardly.
Another guy shook his head and said, “Why does the new professor have a crush on you guys?”
Silence.
Larry froze mid-step.
I blinked.
We exchanged a glance.
And simultaneously…
Cringed.
What.
The.
Hell.
“That’s not—” I started.
Larry cut in. “It’s not like that.”
The guy raised a brow. “She kept calling on you two.”
“That’s called academic engagement,” I said flatly.
Someone else snorted.
“Sure.”
I felt heat crawl up my neck.
Not embarrassment exactly.
More like… irritation.
Of all the interpretations they could land on.
Crush.
Really???
Larry leaned closer to me. “Bro, this is worse than the Erebus thing.”
“I know.”
“She’s the queen of angels and they think she has a crush.”
“Shut up.”
We started moving toward the door.
But the whispers followed.
“She looked at them a lot.”
“They answered everything.”
“She smiled at him.”
They weren’t wrong about the attention.
But they were wrong about the intention.
There was no flirtation.
No softness.
Just assessment.
And tension.
And something layered and ancient beneath corporate terminology.
But explaining that would only make it worse.
So I didn’t.
We stepped into the hallway.
The noise level dropped immediately.
Larry exhaled loudly. “Okay, I did not sign up to be rumored as angel queen’s boy toy.”
“You announced you weren’t Erebus in front of everyone.”
“That’s unrelated.”
“It’s absolutely related.”
He rubbed his face. “This is so stupid.”
I nodded. “Welcome to being watched.”
He glanced at me. “You’re used to it.”
“Kind of.”
We started walking toward the cafeteria.
My stomach growled again.
Loud enough that Larry laughed.
“Demon prince defeated by hunger.”
“Shut up.”
He grinned like he had just discovered my ultimate weakness. Which, technically, he had. I might survive demonic politics, interdimensional border instability, and angel queens infiltrating corporate management classes, but skip lunch once and I’m suddenly one step away from committing crimes over fried chicken.
We joined the queue at the cafeteria counter. It was long. Of course it was long. Every student who had survived Advanced Corporate Management apparently decided they deserved carbs.
The air smelled like rice, oil, and something aggressively spicy. The noise was layered. Metal trays sliding. Girls laughing too loud. A group of freshmen arguing about which sauce was superior like it was a constitutional debate.
Normal.
So painfully normal.
And that… grounded me more than anything else today.
Larry leaned slightly toward me. “You don’t want to ask Miss Diamond about why she accepted her to our college?”
I huffed softly.
“No need,” I said, eyes forward.
He raised a brow. “No need?”
“She’s the queen of the Light Realm,” I muttered. “If she wants to teach here, she can manipulate paperwork, boards, committees, accreditation… whatever. It’s not like she needs permission.”
Larry scratched his chin. “So you’re saying this is celestial HR?”
“I’m saying this is chess. Or Manipulation. Or whatever they called it in the light dimension.”
He glanced at me sideways. “And you’re not curious?”
I exhaled slowly. “Larry, I’m just a prince,” I said quietly. But if I wanted to be a CEO today, I could take over a company in a blink and become one in less than an hour. She’s a queen. She could do far more than I can.”
He stared at me.
Then snorted.
“And yet here you are.” He gestured around us. “Hungry. Lining up in a cafeteria. Waiting for sad lunch.”
I deadpanned at him.
He smiled immediately. “Just kidding.”
I didn’t smile.
Not fully.
Because if I did, Larry would think I was about to start something.
And technically?
He wouldn’t be wrong.
“I prefer this way,” I muttered