The ceremony wrapped up not long after.
Most of the students were still buzzing about the club campaigns—who they'd join, what they'd aim for.
But I wasn't paying attention to any of that.
I have to go and read the story first in order to know what would happen.
The screen faded as I closed the system for now.
Too many thoughts were swirling in my head, and I didn't want to miss anything real happening around me.
Just as I stood up from my seat, someone bumped into me from the side.
"Watch it," I muttered, stepping back.
"Tch. It's you, huh?", a rather insulting remark I heard from the person who bumped into me.
I turned around to see a rather beautiful girl in neat uniform, her skin almost unimaginably fair, with a thin figure, long black hair and brown eyes.
But, the thing I was mesmerized with was her body, almost a perfect figure, long legs and perfectly shaped chest area.
The concerning part is, it seems like she knows who Dorian is, but I don't know her at all.
As she stared at me with disgust, I asked the system about her information.
[Access denied]
[Appraisal Skill Not Found]
[»Shop
Appraisal Lv.0 : 1,00,000 Story Points]
[Insufficient Story Points]
Shit.
I didn't expect that.
For now the only thing I can do is acquaint with the characters from reading the story itself.
"What the hell are you staring at, you pervert?", she gave me a death stare, which seemed almost unfair, since I don't know her at all and all I did was taking a quick glance at her breasts.
"I wasn't staring," I said calmly, straightening my coat. "You bumped into me, remember?"
She scoffed, arms crossed under her chest—probably on purpose. "You never change. Always pretending to be the victim when you get caught."
I sighed inwardly.
Another one who knew the old Dorian.
And clearly hated him.
It would be foolish of me to continue the conversation here.
Also, she already hates me, so it wouldn't change anything if I just left abruptly.
As I did just that and was leaving, I heard her swearing at me again.
"Fucking coward."
Now, I wonder, what the hell did our li'l old Dorian do to make her hate him this much.
***
Under the training building, hidden behind a cracked wall and down a narrow staircase, there was a secret place.
No signs. No teachers.
Just stone steps leading into darkness.
At the bottom was a wide, round room made of old stone.
The air was damp.
Red lights glowed from the walls, making everything look bloody.
In the center, there was a fighting pit—just a sunken circle with metal rails around it.
The ground inside was stained dark.
Dried blood. Lots of it.
Students stood around the edge, watching.
Some sat on rough benches, others leaned against the walls.
They were all from the Academy, but many had removed their uniforms or covered their faces.
No one wanted to be recognized here.
Two boys stood in the pit.
One held a short, glowing blade.
The other had bare fists wrapped in cloth.
No one said "go."
They just moved.
The one with the sword slashed fast, cutting the other's arm open.
Blood sprayed.
The crowd shouted.
Some cheered, some laughed.
The boy with the bleeding arm didn't back down.
He charged forward and punched the sword user in the face—once, twice.
Teeth flew out.
But then the blade stabbed into his side.
He screamed. Blood poured from the wound.
He fell, clutching his stomach.
The other boy kicked him hard in the face while he was down.
More blood. The kind that stuck to the floor.
No one stopped it.
No rules. No mercy.
Just violence.
The board outside this area read "Blood Games Club".
Away from all this noise, in an isolated room, loud moans could be heard.
The girl leaned against the cold wall, naked.
The boy's hands touched her skin, making her breathe fast.
A faint red light came through the door, showing their shadows. His lips brushed her neck, and she moaned softly.
The noise from the fighting pit was far away. She arched her back, grabbing his shoulders. They moved together, fast and needy.
Her nails scratched his back, pushing him closer. Their breathing was loud, and the air felt hot.
The violence outside didn't matter. They kept going, lost in each other, until they stopped, panting.
After, she rested against the wall, hair wet with sweat.
The boy fixed his shirt, grinning.
"Lila, we'll get caught someday," he said quietly.
She smiled, grabbing her uniform.
"No way, Kael. I run the Blood Games Club. Nobody talks." He laughed.
"Still weird, sis. You're my sister, running this crazy place."
She shrugged. "Makes life fun, right?"
**************
Author's Note :
Please comment your thoughts on this chapter
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