Chapter 63. I’d Rather Have Allies Than Followers
Succubi Chapter 63. I’d Rather Have Allies Than Followers
I opened my book and flipped the notes when someone slid into the seat beside me with all the subtlety of a wind spell in a library.
“Yo.”
I turned, and yeah—there he was.
Adrian.
His uniform was immaculate, his pen was already out, and he had that “I woke up early and still had time to meditate” glow about him.
“Morning,” I replied, leaning back slightly. “Professor not here yet?”
“Nope. Still waiting.” Adrian adjusted his collar and pulled out a notebook from his bag—immaculate handwriting already marked across the top of the page. Of course.
He glanced at the empty chair in front. “You know what this class is about, right?”
I shrugged. “Multi-threaded spell logic. Arcana-core subject.”
“I’m so excited.” Adrian leaned on the desk, grinning. “I was getting tired of all those shared theory lectures. If I had to hear one more Valor kid complain about the ‘unfairness of elemental resistances’ I was gonna hex someone’s shoes.”
I chuckled. “Yeah. They act like anything requiring more than three seconds of thought is a trap.”
Adrian smirked. “Honestly, I’m just hoping today we don’t accidentally explode anything. Yet.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You say that like it’s not part of the curriculum.”
He made a face. “Fair.”
I tapped my pen idly against the side of my book. “I’m mostly hoping the professor doesn’t try to impress us with some ridiculous master-cast illusion we can’t replicate.”
“Oh yeah,” Adrian grinned. “The ‘look what I can do, you’ll never touch this, but here’s a 40-page essay’ type.”
I nodded. “Classic.”
We fell into a short, comfortable silence. Students filtered in. The room buzzed with quiet conversations, the soft hum of projectors warming up, and the unmistakable scent of coffee someone snuck in.
But then Adrian paused, like something was stuck in his throat.
He turned toward me a little awkwardly.
“Hey,” he said, a little too casually. “You got a number?”
I raised an eyebrow. “What, like a favorite number? Or are you asking for my contact info?”
He laughed under his breath. “Yeah, that. Your actual number.”
“Sure.” I took my phone out, tapped the contact window, and flicked the transfer link over to him with a gesture. “There. Congrats. You’re now one of twenty people alive with my number.”
“Lucky me,” Adrian said as it synced to his device. But then he hesitated again.
There it was.
That pause.
The prelude to something.
“…So uh, can I… give your number to others? Like, in case someone else asks?”
I tilted my head, narrow-eyed. “Who exactly is ‘someone else’?”
He scratched the back of his neck, clearly trying to look innocent but failing. “Just… you know. Some of the other students. Not Ares or any of those grudge-holding Valor trolls, don’t worry.”
My expression didn’t change.
“I mean, you saw what happened yesterday,” I said evenly. “Half of them still act like I vaporized their dog. If anyone from that fan club ends up in my messages, I’m hexing their ringtone to scream every time they open their contacts.”
Adrian laughed nervously. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Totally fair.”
I waited.
He sighed, dropped his voice just a bit, and added, “Okay… maybe not all guys. Maybe… some girls?”
I blinked once.
Then slowly turned my head to look at him.
“Girls?”
He gave a tiny nod, then glanced back—just a subtle tilt, not even full-on turning his head.
Naturally, I followed his eyes.
And there they were.
Three of them. Sitting diagonally behind us in the third row.
An elf—slender, long white-blonde hair braided behind her pointed ear, textbook open but upside-down.
A lamia—dark purple scales curling beneath her uniform skirt, tail coiled so tightly around her chair leg I thought it might snap.
And a fox demi-human—fluffy red-orange ears twitching every time I glanced in their direction, her notebook still untouched as she pretended to check her watch for the fourth time in a minute.
All three of them tried so hard to act normal.
All three of them were blushing like this was a harem audition.
I turned back to Adrian.
He smiled sheepishly.
I narrowed my eyes. “What did they offer you?”
He blinked. “What?”
“My number,” I said, folding my arms. “What did they offer in exchange for it?”
He hesitated.
I lifted one eyebrow, slowly.
Finally, he caved. “...Lunch. For a week.”
I snorted. “Pfft. Cheap.”
“In the Crown Café.”
I paused.
Okay.
That changed things.
Crown Café wasn’t just any cafeteria. It was the ritzy, reservation-only, mana-sourced five-star inside the academy. Velvet seats. Crystal menus. Servers that floated. Only the top-ranked or royally-backed students usually went there.
I groaned. “Damn. That’s worth it.”
“So… can I give it to them?”
I leaned in slightly. “No.”
Adrian blinked. “Wait, what—?”
I pointed subtly toward the trio behind us. “If they want it? They ask me.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
I tilted my chin up. “I’m not a free sample at a grocery store. My number isn’t something you just hand out like promotional flyers. Even if you gave it to them, I wouldn’t answer.”
I gave him an annoying smirk. “I’ll let the message rot in the void. You tell them that too.”
Adrian leaned back, letting out a defeated laugh. “You’re kind of scary, you know that?”
I smirked. “I know.”
I caught movement again behind us—Elf girl trying to sneak a peek, then nearly falling off her chair when I turned.
She froze.
I didn’t smile.
Didn’t wink.
Just stared.
She turned beet red and buried her face in her book, which was still upside down.
I leaned back in my chair, finally feeling like I could breathe.
Power wasn’t just spells or swordplay.
Sometimes, it was in knowing your worth.
Even if that worth came with devilishly good hair and natural intimidation stats.
Adrian chuckled beside me. “Okay, okay, I’ll tell them. You want a fan club, just say the word.”
“Tempting,” I said. “But I’d rather have allies than followers.”
He nodded, just a little impressed.
Then the classroom door opened, and a hush rolled through the room.
I mean it—hush. Like someone had hit a mute spell across the whole room. Not even the projectors dared to hum. Students froze mid-sentence, pens paused mid-word, and even the girl with the upside-down book flipped it right-side up like that was gonna save her from what was coming.
And then he walked in.
Okay.
So I know I just said, “I’m mostly hoping the professor doesn’t try to impress us with some ridiculous master-cast illusion we can’t replicate,” but this guy?
This guy reeked of dramatic energy.
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