Chapter 178. A Hot Beggar
Succubi Chapter 178. A Hot Beggar
“Why is this place so goddamn big?!” I muttered.
My voice echoed slightly down the academy hallway, swallowed by high ceilings and polished stone that probably cost more than my entire life savings. Which, to be fair, wasn’t saying much.
I kept walking.
Half dressed.
Shredded uniform.
Exposed arms, abs, and yeah… way more skin than a “respectable Arcana student” should be showing at nine in the morning.
Honestly?
I looked like a hot beggar.
And I knew it.
Because people noticed.
Even in the middle of class hours, when most students were supposed to be in training fields or lecture halls, there were still a few stragglers.
And they were staring.
One girl literally slowed down mid walk, blinked at me twice, then subtly raised her phone and…
Click!
Picture taken.
I paused.
“…Really?”
She froze.
Then bolted.
I exhaled slowly.
Great.
I was going to end up on some academy rumor board.
“Arcana anomaly spotted wandering half naked.”
Fantastic.
I ran a hand through my hair and kept moving.
Somehow…
Somehow!!!
I had not memorized the academy layout yet.
Which was embarrassing.
So here I was, wandering like a lost tourist who took a wrong turn at “advanced combat training” and ended up in “fashion disaster district.”
To be fair…
This wasn’t entirely my fault.
After that battle, Instructor Elise had told me to continue training.
Like nothing happened.
Like I hadn’t just detonated half the field and turned myself into a walking wardrobe malfunction.
She even lent me her robe.
Which, for five glorious minute, restored dignity.
Warmth.
Basic decency.
Then…
“Accidentally.”
A strong gust of wind blasted across the field.
The robe lifted.
Flapped.
Tried to escape.
I grabbed it mid air like my life depended on it.
Because it kind of did.
Behind me, I heard giggling.
Suspicious giggling.
Arcana girls.
“Oops!”
“Sorry!”
“Wind control slipped!”
Lies.
All lies.
Even Instructor Elise paused mid observation.
She looked at them.
Then at me.
Then back at them.
Her expression said everything.
And then…
Kyra.
That traitor.
“Oh, this is very important for scientific observation,” she said, completely serious.
Scientific.
Observation.
I stared at her.
She smiled sweetly.
I would remember this betrayal.
Instructor Elise sighed.
Actually sighed.
Then looked at me.
“You’re distracting the class,” she said calmly.
I looked down at myself.
“…Me?”
“Yes.”
“Because of my… combat damage?”
“Yes.”
“…Right.”
So she handed me a letter.
Combat damage exemption.
And sent me away.
Just like that.
And now… Here I was.
Still half dressed.
Still slightly glowing from earlier.
Still attracting unwanted academic attention.
Trying to find the clothes department like my dignity depended on it.
Which again… It did.
I glanced down at the paper in my hand.
“Okay… it should be around here,” I muttered.
Left corridor.
Second turn.
Near logistics wing.
Sounded simple.
Was not simple.
Everything here looked the same.
Stone.
Arches.
Expensive lighting.
Confusing layout.
I turned another corner.
Paused.
Looked around.
Nope.
Wrong.
Turned back.
At some point, I caught my reflection in a polished glass panel.
And stopped.
Just for a second.
Because…
Yeah.
Okay.
I got it.
I understood the reaction now.
The shredded uniform wasn’t just messy.
It framed everything.
Arms.
Shoulders.
Abs.
That V line at the hips.
The afterglow of battle still visible in my posture.
And my expression…
Calm.
Smug.
Slightly amused.
“…Yeah,” I muttered.
Dangerous.
I shook my head and kept walking.
Focus.
Clothes.
Dignity.
Basic survival.
Another turn.
A door.
Finally.
Clothes Department.
I exhaled in relief and pushed it open.
“Hello,” I said as I stepped inside. “I’m Evan Drakos. I need a new uniform—”
I stopped.
Mid sentence.
Rivy was there.
She leaned against a table, arms crossed, looking completely at home in the chaos of folded fabrics and stacked uniforms.
Her own uniform?
Also damaged.
Ripped along the sleeves.
Torn slightly at the side.
Exposing just enough to be distracting.
Of course.
Because this dorm was cursed.
She looked me up and down slowly.
Her face twisted.
“…Oh Anomaly, you’re here!”
Then she cringed.
Actually cringed.
“Uh… what happened to you? Did a truck run over you?”
I huffed.
“No.”
I walked further inside, holding up the letter.
“Combat training.”
She blinked.
Then blinked again.
Then looked at me.
Then back at the letter.
Then back at me.
And I could see it happening.
That slow, inevitable judgment forming behind her eyes.
“You…” Rivy said slowly, tilting her head. “Why is your condition worse than mine?”
Her gaze dragged from my shoulder, where the fabric had been reduced to decorative threads, to my torso, where my uniform had given up on modesty entirely. The academy crest clung to a strip of cloth like it was fighting for survival. My sleeves were gone. My collar was a suggestion. My pants… well.
Let’s just say if dignity was a stat, I’d taken critical damage.
She gestured at herself. “I mean, I’m Wrath. I’m supposed to be the barbaric one.”
I exhaled through my nose. “Don’t ask me.”
I didn’t say it with pride. I didn’t say it with shame.
I said it like someone who had survived a small localized apocalypse.
“Elise tried to train me personally,” I added flatly. “Then it escalated. Then it got worse. Then…” I gestured vaguely at my shredded existence. “This happened.”
Rivy stared.
Then she giggled.
Not polite giggling. Not restrained.
Actual, bright, unfiltered laughter.
“Oh,” she said between breaths, “right. Elise.”
That explained everything.
She leaned against the counter, arms crossed, ignoring the fact that her own uniform was torn at the shoulder and slightly ripped along the thigh. Unlike me, though, she wore damage like a badge of honor.
Titan House. Pride through impact.
“You need to submit the letter there,” she said, pointing lazily to a side desk.
I glanced over. A wooden counter.
“You know,” she continued casually, “usual.”
I looked back at her. “Usual?”
She nodded proudly. “I’m from Titan House. This is completely normal.”
Then she grinned.
“And I just sent two of my classmates to the infirmary.”
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