Chapter 160. Walk in and Deal with Whoever is Already Inside

Succubi Chapter 160. Walk in and Deal with Whoever is Already Inside

The teasing eventually faded.

Not completely. These girls would weaponize embarrassment like it was a sacred art form. But the volume lowered. The energy softened. Plates clinked. Glasses refilled.

I ate.

Three servings fire glazed steak. Two bowls of noodles. Something Gladia shoved onto my plate that tasted like butter and sin and possibly illegal alchemy. I did not question it. I devoured it. Every bite grounded me a little more. Pulled me back from whatever delirious cloud my brain had been floating inside since… earlier.

Evelyn stayed beside me the entire time. Quiet. Occasionally nudging my leg under the table. Occasionally stealing food from my plate and pretending she did not. Occasionally catching my eye and looking away like her brain was still buffering from everything that happened.

It was… comfortable.

Dangerously comfortable.

By the time dessert rolled out and Lilith dismissed us with her usual elegant nod, my body was heavy with exhaustion and satisfaction. The kind that sank into your bones and told you tomorrow was going to hurt in at least five new places.

I stood up, stretching slowly. My spine cracked like a ritual offering.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” I muttered to nobody in particular.

Rivy smirked. “Round four already?”

“I need a bath,” I said flatly. “I smell like disappointment.”

Gladia snorted soda through her nose. Sera wheezed. Val nearly choked again. Evelyn slapped my arm.

“You do not smell like disappointment,” she said quickly.

I raised an eyebrow.

“…Okay maybe slightly like regret,” she admitted.

“Comforting.”

Evelyn crossed her arms but she was smiling. Soft. Tired. Happy.

I headed back to my room before the teasing could escalate into another public trial.

The hallway was dim. The air smelled faintly of perfume, incense, and academy soap that promised to clean your sins but definitely did not deliver.

My room greeted me with blessed silence.

I stripped halfway down the hall, leaving a trail of clothes like breadcrumbs of poor life choices, before slipping into the shared bathroom. The marble tiles were cold under my feet.

I stepped into the shower and turned the water on.

Hot.

Perfect.

Steam swallowed the room as water cascaded down my shoulders. The heat loosened muscles I did not realize were clenched. My head dropped forward as the first real sigh escaped my lungs since dinner.

Soap. Scrub. Repeat. I attacked my skin like I was erasing evidence from a crime scene.

And honestly?

I was deeply, incredibly grateful Evelyn had not gagged or commented earlier because yeah. I had not bathed that morning. Arcana lectures ran late. Training ran longer. My sense of time had been absolutely demolished.

She deserved a medal.

Or therapy.

Or both.

Water rushed down the drain, carrying sweat, scent, and about six layers of post coital existential confusion with it.

As I rinsed my hair, I flicked open my system.

“Status.”

The translucent interface unfolded across my vision.

[Name: Evan Drakos]

[Class: Demon Sovereign]

[Rank: Crown Prince]

[Title: Lost Heir of Hell]

[Level 20]

Updated Attributes:

HP: 11,412

DP: 1,474

Strength: 66

Agility: 80

Endurance: 83

Magic Affinity: 104

Demonic Influence: 122

[New skills detected. Telekinesis + Throne of Dominion.]

I blinked slowly, water dripping down my lashes.

“Alright,” I muttered. “Tell me Telekinesis and Throne of Dominion skill descriptions.”

The system pulsed once.

[Telekinesis]

[Allows the user to manipulate objects, enemies, and environmental elements using demonic willpower. Precision and force scale with Demonic Influence and Magic Affinity. Advanced usage permits multi target control, mid air suspension, and aura reinforced crushing pressure that weakens resistance and disrupts enemy focus.]

[Throne of Dominion]

[Summons a manifestation of the user’s sovereign authority, creating a territory where allies gain stat amplification while enemies experience oppressive mental and physical suppression. The throne anchors aura stability, enhances command based skills, and strengthens contracts or bonds formed within the dominion field.]

I whistled softly.

“Okay… that is absurd.”

The water continued pouring over me as I leaned back against the tile, letting steam fog the mirror beyond recognition.

So the system reacted to emotions.

To bonds.

To intensity.

Not just combat. Not just training. But… connection.

I exhaled slowly.

“I see…”

And that was the problem.

Because now that the adrenaline faded and the teasing stopped and the heat cooled… my brain finally caught up.

I was silent under the spray, watching droplets race down my arms like they were running from thoughts I did not want to chase.

I loved messing around. Loved the performance. The swagger. The confidence. The carefully crafted image of Evan Drakos who knew exactly what he was doing at all times.

That persona was easy.

Safe.

Controlled.

But what happened with Evelyn…

That was not controlled.

That was not performance.

That was something raw. Emotional. Intimate in a way that crawled under my ribs and curled around my heart like it was trying to claim real estate.

I had not just slept with her.

I had… connected with her.

And that terrified me more than any battlefield ever had.

“Shit…” I murmured quietly.

“You are thinking out loud, Anomaly.”

I nearly slipped and cracked my skull on the tile.

I turned sharply.

There she was.

Sera.

Sitting casually on the bathroom counter like she owned gravity. Wrapped in a loose white towel that barely pretended to do its job. Long hair damp and trailing over her shoulder. Sloth eyes half lidded in eternal amusement.

And in her hands…

My fresh underwear.

She was flipping them between her fingers like they were rare collector cards.

“…Why are you in my bathroom,” I said slowly.

Sera blinked once. Then tilted her head.

“This is a shared bathroom,” she said, completely calm. “That’s not how things work here, Anomaly.”

I narrowed my eyes. “That’s not what I mean. I mean I’m here. So technically it’s my turn now.”

She snorted softly.

“Still not how it works,” she said, twirling my underwear again like she was evaluating durability. “You don’t reserve the bathroom like it’s a room.”

“You absolutely should reserve bathrooms,” I argued. “There should be a booking rune or a sign-up scroll.”

She shrugged. “There is.”

I blinked. “There is?”

“Yeah,” she said, pointing casually toward the door with her toothbrush. “It’s called ‘walk in and deal with whoever is already inside.’”

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