Succubi Chapter 216. Pain. Loneliness. Boobs.
Succubi Chapter 216. Pain. Loneliness. Boobs.
I took one cautious step back. “Professor, I understand. Truly. Pain. Loneliness. Shadows. Boobs. Very tragic.”
His brow twitched.
“But I need to go to my next class.”
Callahan’s eyes narrowed faintly. “Running away, Evan?”
“Yes.”
Honesty. Best defense.
He blinked.
I bowed slightly. “Respectfully.”
Then before he could answer, before he could summon another metaphor about abandoned hearts or beloved warmth, I turned and walked fast.
Not ran.
Walked fast.
Okay, maybe I ran at the door.
Adrian, Kyra, and Felix immediately moved with me, because apparently they smelled danger too.
The moment we hit the corridor, Adrian burst.
He grabbed the wall, laughing so hard he almost dropped his bag. “He wants Lilith’s boobs!”
“Shut up,” I hissed.
Felix looked pale. “That was deeply uncomfortable.”
Kyra, somehow, was trying not to smile. “He really is lonely.”
“Yes,” I said, walking faster. “And I refuse to become his emotional support student.”
Adrian caught up beside me, still grinning like a demon clown. “Too late. He sees you as a rival.”
“I did nothing.”
“You got what he wanted.”
“That sounds worse.”
Felix nodded solemnly. “It is worse.”
I sped up.
Nope.
Nope nope nope.
Next class.
Immediately.
Any class.
Even math.
Even cursed theory.
Anything was better than becoming trapped in Professor Callahan’s Broken Heart Arc Part Two.
And thankfully, the next few hours were normal.
Well.
Academy normal.
Which meant we studied in rooms that smelled like old paper and mana residue, listened to instructors explain things that could kill us if we misunderstood one sentence, and occasionally got reminded that this school considered “light internal bleeding” an acceptable training outcome as long as the healer was nearby.
Still.
Compared to Callahan’s tragic shadow lecture about beloved warmth and unavailable boobs?
Peace.
Adrian, of course, refused to let it die.
I threatened him three times.
Kyra laughed every time.
Felix tried to act above it, but I caught him smirking twice, which meant even the rich boy had fallen to the disease of gossip.
Honestly? I couldn’t blame them.
We survived our next classes with only moderate emotional damage. There was a practical theory session where I actually paid attention, a mana control class where Adrian almost exploded a practice crystal, and one short lecture where Felix answered everything perfectly because apparently his childhood involved tutors, rare books, and probably gold-plated flashcards. Kyra kept glancing at me whenever the instructor mentioned “combat instincts,” which made me feel both proud and vaguely hunted.
Then finally… Classes ended.
The academy corridors erupted into freedom.
Students poured out like prisoners released from intellectual captivity. Some rushed toward the dining hall. Some went toward training grounds. Some collapsed dramatically on benches like they had survived war.
Me?
I headed straight to the Academy Mission Office.
Private Chamber 3.
Because apparently I accepted a secret mission from Brimwood Village like a financially motivated idiot.
The Mission Office was in a separate wing near the teleportation halls. It had the vibe of a bank, a military command center, and a suspicious guild hall all mashed together. Counters lined the front. Staff moved behind them with practiced efficiency, passing mission files, mana contracts, crystals, badges, and emergency forms from one hand to another. Students stood in lines, some confident, some nervous, some clearly pretending they weren’t injured.
I walked to the side counter marked Private Assignments.
A staff member looked up.
Tired eyes.
Professional face.
The soul of someone who had seen too many students ask stupid questions.
“Who?”
I blinked. “Uh… Evan Drakos.”
He stared at me.
I lifted the glowing mission letter from my system interface and pushed it forward slightly.
“I got this mission letter. New one. Special request.”
His eyes shifted to the screen.
Then his expression changed just a fraction.
Not surprised exactly.
More like, ‘ah, paperwork with consequences’.
“Evan Drakos,” he repeated, typing something into the desk crystal.
The crystal flashed.
[Special Request Mission Verification]
[Recipient: Evan Drakos]
[Status: Accepted]
[Briefing Location: Private Chamber 3]
[Access: Granted]
He nodded toward the door behind him.
“Private Chamber 3. Go in.”
I hesitated. “Is this solo mission or team?”
“Solo.”
Ah.
Great.
Locked briefing.
Unknown requester.
From a village where men were emotionally attached to moaning ghost monsters.
What could go wrong?
I walked into the chamber anyway.
Inside, the room was small but comfortable. One desk. Two chairs. Mana lamp. Soundproofing runes on all four walls. A privacy barrier glimmered faintly over the door as it shut behind me.
The staff member came in after me and sat across the desk.
“Sit.”
I sat.
He folded his hands.
“Special request missions follow different protocols from standard missions.”
I nodded.
Good.
Finally.
Explanation.
“Certain individuals, institutions, noble lines, regional authorities, and affiliated contractors are allowed to submit private requests through academy channels.”
I nodded again.
Okay.
Still not the mission.
“These missions may conceal requester identity until acceptance due to political, legal, personal, or security reasons.”
More nodding.
Still no mission.
“However, all missions processed through this office are screened for academy safety compliance.”
I stared at him.
He continued.
“Emergency recall remains active. Mana tracking remains active. Student rights remain protected under academy mission regulations. Payment terms are bound by contract after briefing confirmation.”
I waited.
He stopped.
I blinked.
“…That’s it?”
He looked at me. “For now.”
“For now?”
“You will receive mission details from the requester.”
I leaned back slowly.
Of course I came here expecting answers and instead got a lecture about safe secret missions. Academy truly loved explaining doors before making me walk through them blindfolded.
“So this mission is safe?” I asked.
“It passed screening.”
“That’s not the same answer.”
“It is the official answer.”
I stared at him.
He stared back.
Damn. Professional deadpan. Stronger than mine? Maybe. I respected it.
“What if they kidnap me?” I asked.
His eyes narrowed faintly.
The staff member slowly pinched the bridge of his nose.
For some reason, that felt like victory.
“You will not be kidnapped by the requester,” he said.
“The academy guarantees that?”
“Yes.”
“What about by someone else?”
His eyes opened again. “Something could always happen.”
I stared at him.
He stared at me.
Then he added, “This is a battle academy.”
I huffed. “Fair.”
Honestly, that was the most honest thing anyone said all day.