Desire Academy: Vice-President & Frying Pan

In the fantasy world of Aethoria, within the kingdom of Veridia, stood the prestigious Saint Aethelgard Academy. Chaos and confusion reigned there as a group of beautiful and noble students, including some teachers, suddenly changed their attitudes overnight for no apparent reason.

"Tsk....."

Among them was Yuko Enatsu, whose arrival shattered the silent and tense atmosphere of the academy's spacious corridors. As she walked, she no longer paraded with the same poise and grace she used to. Instead, she now strode with a heavy, brazen gait, her crimson kimono flapping with every step like a pirate ship's sail in a storm. Her long, fiery red hair and her two horns, which represented her status among demons, acted as an unmistakable symbol that she was, indeed, the authentic Yuko Enatsu. However, the dignity that once accompanied her had vanished, replaced by an arrogant crudeness.

"(Damn this charade!)", a guttural voice resonated in Yuko's mind, the voice of the man inhabiting her body. "(Academy? Seriously? Do I still have to put up with this garbage because of this brat's 'relatives'? I'm sick of their constant whining. One of these days I'm going to wipe them all off the map!)". The man inside Yuko roared mentally, trying to suppress his growing frustration with the obligations imposed by his new body's family conditions. Yuko Enatsu's formerly serene and calculating eyes narrowed further, sweeping the hallway with a sharp gaze and palpable impatience, seeking any excuse for conflict.

"A-ah... I-I'm so-sorry...!"

When a younger student accidentally bumped into her, the air froze as Yuko merely shot him a menacing glare and unceremoniously shoved him against the wall, causing an impact that echoed through the corridor.

"Watch it, brat!"

Yuko growled with a harsh voice and a masculine tone that was far from the composed and respectable demeanor of the vice-president she used to be.

"... Ugh... Y-yes... I'm so sorry..."

The man inside Yuko rudely watched the younger student lying on the ground, trembling with fear and pain, until he was satisfied. Then he left without looking back, lost in his thoughts. "(I must admit that this body...)", the thought slipped out with a note of mockery and complacency. "(...is not bad at all. With these large breasts and this toned figure overflowing with power and strength... It's perfect for hurting and intimidating others, for letting off some steam from all this crap. Hahaha.)"

The students who witnessed the scene were shocked, murmuring among themselves, their whispers spreading like wildfire. They had seen Yuko Enatsu laugh vulgarly like a thug after publicly roughing up another student without trying to hide it, provoking reactions of fear or confusion, accompanied by whispers like "Is that really Princess Yuko?" or "I don't recognize her" that floated in the air. Each one recalled the old Yuko Enatsu, who was an impeccable warrior, a dignified leader, and a respectable figure who commanded respect and admiration from those around her. But now, before them remained only the image of a relentless bully, with a twisted smile that promised trouble, the remnant of a lady possessed by indomitable fury.

Until suddenly, Yuko's haughty figure stopped dead in its tracks. In front of her appeared a silver-haired boy, covering his eyes, leaning against the lockers. He remained there silent and expressionless, prominently dressed in black, oblivious to the world around him, as if he were a statue, exuding an unsettling calm that the man inside Yuko found particularly irritating. With an impatient snort, Yuko approached, raising a hand to forcefully strike his shoulder.

"Get out of my way, nuisance! Can't you see the boss is walking through here?"

But the hand never connected. With surprising speed, the silver-haired boy stopped her wrist with a firmness that astonished Yuko's possessor. The boy's expressionless eyes met hers, devoid of any fear.

"A PvE is perfect right now."

The boy said in a monotone voice, indifferently releasing her wrist.

"Training arena. Now."

"(PvE? What the hell does that mean? Another one of his weird geek terms?)", the man's voice growled mentally, a wave of anger bubbling up. The challenge was clear, and Yuko's impatience overflowed.

"Perfect! You'll get your fight, insolent brat!"

In that manner, both headed towards the training arena, where the air crackled with tense anticipation. The students had gathered, eager for the confrontation between the "new" Yuko and the enigmatic silver-haired boy. As soon as the last of them entered, Yuko extended her hand, and out of nowhere, materialized a Kanabō, a heavy, iron-studded club, larger and more brutal than herself.

"(Ah, yes! This is much better than that stupid katana this chick used!)", the man's thought gloated with satisfaction. "(Refined technique? Magic? Nonsense! With this body's absurd physical strength, resilience, speed, and regeneration... I just need to crush and break. Pure brute force is what's needed here!)"

Contrary to Yuko Enatsu's sloppy stance, the silver-haired boy adopted a defensive posture, his eyes fixed on the Kanabō. There was no fear in his gaze, only a calculated readiness. Yuko, or rather the man inside her, launched the attack. There was no grace in her movements, only raw brutality as the Kanabō descended with the force of lightning, each blow designed to pulverize.

(Boom!!)

The arena floor cracked under the impact of her missed attacks, the shockwave vibrating the air. It was an absolute contrast to the refined and beautiful technique of the original Yuko, who danced with her katana and wove magic into her attacks. This Yuko was a whirlwind of destruction, without subtlety, without honor, just the crude imposition of power.

The silver-haired boy, for his part, moved like a shadow. He dodged with millimeter precision, his body contorting to avoid the crushing blows. Each of his movements was efficient, minimal, seemingly effortless. He didn't speak, didn't shout, only observed, waiting for his moment, while Yuko's furious roar filled the arena. In this way, minutes stretched on. Yuko attacked with relentless fury, but her blows, despite their tremendous force, never found their target. The silver-haired boy was a ghost, a silent mockery of the impotence of her brutal offensive, which frustrated her more and more.

"Haaa... Haaa... Haa.. Haa..."

Finally, the possessor began to pant, frustration and exhaustion accumulating in the demon princess's body. Taking advantage of this, the boy stepped back, creating a small distance. His eyes, still expressionless, fixed on Yuko.

"Now it's my turn."

The boy said in his monotone voice, then, to the astonishment of the man inside Yuko and the entire audience, pulled out a gleaming metal frying pan.

"(A... what? A damn frying pan?! Is this imbecile mocking me?!)", disbelief and fury seized the possessor.

But before he could react, the frying pan whistled through the air and struck Yuko directly on the forehead with a resounding CLONK! The demon princess staggered, the Kanabō clattering to the floor. The impact was dry, forceful, and utterly humiliating.

"I'm not done yet."

With those words, with astonishing agility, he pulled a second frying pan out of nowhere, one in each hand. What followed was a ruthless and surreal assault. The frying pans became a silver blur, striking Yuko again and again: on the head, on the shoulders, on the sides. CLONK! CLONK! CLONK! The audience gasped, unable to process the scene: the formidable demon princess, mercilessly beaten by an expressionless boy armed with kitchen utensils, something no one would believe if they weren't seeing it with their own eyes.

The blows continued until Yuko's toned body finally gave in. With a final, resonant CLONK!, she fell to her knees, and then collapsed heavily onto the arena floor, completely knocked out. In the darkness of his mind, the man could only wonder: "(What the hell...? How did this happen? How is it possible that an unknown guy, with frying pans, left me like this?!)". The humiliation was absolute. Silence hung over the arena.

The silver-haired boy approached slowly, put away his frying pans with the same imperturbable expression, and knelt beside the unconscious Yuko. With an unexpectedly gentle touch, he placed a hand on her forehead, and a faint light enveloped the demon princess's body. He was healing her, as expressionless as ever.

"Not bad."

The boy said in his monotone voice, as if he had just finished a light training session, at which Yuko's eyes slowly opened. The possessor's fury had dissipated, replaced by a bitter but undeniable truth. His principle was clear: hurt the weak and praise the strong. And this boy... this stranger with frying pans, was undeniably stronger.

With an effort, Yuko sat up, still dazed. Slowly, she knelt before the boy, bowing her head in a sign of defeat and submission.

"You... you are the boss."

He growled with a voice that, for the first time, lacked its usual insolence.

"From now on... I will be your subordinate."

A stupefied murmur swept through the audience at the demon princess's proclamation of submission to a complete stranger who had defeated her with mere frying pans, and the potential impact this could have.

"Hehehe, that's one down."

Among the shocked crowd, the only one genuinely happy was the heroine Arisa Reaven, who, possessed by an NTR lover, had orchestrated everything for this encounter without anyone's knowledge, all with the aim of deceiving the protagonist, slowly taking the heroines one by one without anyone noticing.

"I knew you were perfect, 'dear' husband."

In this way, the silver-haired boy, looking at the current events, spoke with an inaudible murmur:

".... How did this happen?"