(Lily's Perspective)
A dull, persistent throbbing in my head was the first thing I registered. The second was the sterile, antiseptic smell that always reminded me of hospitals and bad news. My eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the soft light of the room. I was lying on a cot, a thin blanket pulled up to my chin. A woman in a crisp white uniform stood nearby, checking a chart. The school nurse.
"What happened?" My voice was a dry croak.
She turned, a gentle smile on her face. "Oh! Miss Harrison, you're awake. You gave us all quite a scare."
I pushed myself up, my mind a confusing fog. "A scare? Why am I in the infirmary?"
"You fainted," she explained, her tone matter-of-fact. "One of your students brought you here. A very concerned young man. What was his name… Adam Wilson, he said."
Adam Wilson.
The name hit me like a physical blow, and suddenly, the fog cleared, replaced by a storm of memory. The crowded lecture hall. The sea of students. And Adam, standing before me, his voice ringing out with that impossible, audacious declaration. The memory of his proposal, so public and so raw, sent a fresh wave of heat crawling up my neck. My hands clenched into fists at my sides. The embarrassment was quickly being consumed by a hot, simmering rage.
How dare he? In front of everyone! I'll have him expelled for this. No, a three-month suspension, at the very least. He needs to learn that some lines should never be crossed.
Fueled by this renewed anger, I swung my legs off the bed, ignoring the nurse's protest. I didn't have time for this. I had to get to the headmistress's office and make sure justice was served. I stormed out of the infirmary, my heels clicking an aggressive rhythm on the polished hallway floors.
I didn't even bother knocking. I pushed the door to the headmistress's office open and marched inside. Mrs. Watson looked up from her desk, her expression one of weary understanding.
"Ah, Miss Harrison. I know what happened," she said, her voice calm. "We were just discussing the matter. Rest assured, we will make sure to expel the student responsible for such a hideous act."
Her words should have been a victory. They were exactly what I had come here to demand. Expulsion. The end of Adam Wilson's career at Northwood High. So why did a sudden, sharp pang of something… unpleasant… twist in my gut? The image of Adam's face flashed in my mind—not the defiant smirk he usually wore, but the look in his eyes when he'd made his speech. It was… genuine. Frighteningly genuine.
The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. "No, ma'am. There's no need to expel Adam Wilson."
Mrs. Watson's perfectly sculpted eyebrows rose in surprise. "I'm sorry?"
"He was just… playing a prank on me," I stammered, the lie feeling foreign and clumsy on my tongue. "It was a joke. I once mentioned to the class that I'd never had a big, dramatic proposal in my life, and he just wanted to… fulfill my wish. He's innocent. It was just a silly, misguided prank."
What am I doing? Why am I defending him? He humiliated me! The logical part of my brain was screaming, but a stronger, more primal instinct had taken over. The thought of him being expelled, of his future being ruined because of this… it was unbearable.
The headmistress stared at me, her expression a mixture of confusion and suspicion. "Are you absolutely certain, Miss Harrison? A hundred percent certain that what you're saying is the truth?"
"Yes, ma'am," I said, forcing a conviction I didn't feel into my voice. "Please, for my sake, just let it go. Forgive him."
She sighed, leaning back in her leather chair. "Very well. If you insist. But Lily, you must work on maintaining a minimal boundary between yourself and your students. This kind of incident, even as a 'prank,' is highly inappropriate."
I nodded meekly, enduring the lecture that followed. It felt like a small price to pay, though I wasn't entirely sure why I was paying it. After what felt like an eternity, I was dismissed. I walked back to my apartment in a daze, my mind a complete and utter mess. The internal chaos was deafening.
The moment I shut the door to my apartment behind me, the facade of composure crumbled. I went straight to my bedroom, kicked off my shoes, and fell onto the bed, staring blankly at the white ceiling. My life, which had always been so orderly, so predictable, had been thrown into a blender.
I started reminiscing, tracing the path that had led me here. From an all-girls primary school to an all-girls university, my world had been almost exclusively female. It wasn't that other girls around me weren't in relationships; I just never had any interest. My strict parents had drilled it into my head that relationships were a distraction from a successful career. And I had listened. I excelled in my studies, aced every exam, and won every competition I entered. I felt fulfilled, satisfied with my achievements and my well-ordered life. I suppose, over time, I developed a sort of resistance to men and the very idea of romance. I saw it as something for people with… well, lower IQs. I was superior. Above it all.
And today, a random student from my class had shattered that world with a few simple words. He had proposed to me. Publicly. And when he spoke, I saw a sincerity in his eyes that I couldn't dismiss. When he took my hand, a strange, tingling sensation had shot up my arm, a feeling I'd never experienced before. Then he'd said it. I love you so much, Lily. He used my first name. My brain just… short-circuited. I fainted. How utterly embarrassing is that?
And the craziest part? Instead of demanding punishment, I defended him. I took a lecture from the headmistress, all to protect the boy who had caused the whole mess. I had no idea what was going on in my own head.
As I was getting lost in this spiral of confusion, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. It was my mom. I picked it up, trying to sound normal.
"Hello, Mom. How are you?"
"I'm doing great, dear. But are you okay? You sound a little off," she said, her motherly intuition kicking in immediately.
"No, Mom. I'm not," I confessed, the words coming out in a rush of emotion.
"What happened, dear? Tell me everything."
And right then, an idea sparked in my mind. A desperate, grasping question. "Mom… how did you and Dad meet?"
There was a soft chuckle on the other end of the line. "Oh, that's a story. Your father, dear, he proposed to me right in the middle of our college campus, in front of hundreds of people."
My breath caught in my throat. "What? But… he always taught me to avoid all that stuff, to focus on my career."
"I know you think of your father as this very strict, cold man," she said, her voice warm with nostalgia. "But in reality, he was such a romantic. He got down on one knee, and I was so overwhelmed, blushing so hard… I actually fainted."
My world tilted on its axis.
"It was in that moment," she continued, "that I felt something so real. He was such a caring man, and he's been a loving husband ever since. I love him so much. But why are you asking all this, Lily?"
Before she could probe any further, I mumbled a quick goodbye and cut the call. I dropped the phone and continued my staring contest with the ceiling.
Mom fainted when Dad proposed. I fainted when Adam proposed.
The parallel was too stark, too perfect to ignore. My mother had said she was so happy she married my dad. My brain, against all logic and reason, made a terrifying leap.
Does that mean… I should marry Adam?
No, no, no! Stop it, Lily! He's your student! It's impossible!
But another part of me whispered back, But he is quite handsome… and that look in his eyes… his feelings felt so genuine.
I groaned, burying my face in my pillow as if I could physically smother the thoughts. My brain felt like it was melting. I eventually drifted off into a restless sleep.
The entire next weekend was a blur. I found myself watching cheesy romance movies and dramas, the very things I used to mock. But now, in every love scene, I couldn't stop myself from imagining Adam and me as the main characters. I even broke down and called my best friend, telling her the whole ridiculous story. I expected judgment, a lecture. Instead, she just laughed.
"Oh, honey," she said. "You're in love."
"Don't be ridiculous," I scoffed, but there was no conviction in my voice.
"Just try something for me," she said. "Close your eyes. Think about him. And then tell me what you feel."
I sighed but did as she asked. I closed my eyes and pictured Adam's face, his confident smile, the way his eyes had locked onto mine. And then I felt it. A fluttering, ticklish sensation in the pit of my stomach.
"I… I feel butterflies in my belly," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper.
"See? You're in love, my dear," she said gently. "You said he genuinely proposed to you. Why not accept it? How many years are you going to live alone in that big apartment? Are you going to become an old hag? Try to enjoy your life. Enjoy your love."
After the call, I spent hours in quiet self-introspection. And no matter how I looked at it, I could only find one truth: I loved him. He was cute, handsome, and daring enough to do something so crazy. I was in love with my student, Adam Wilson.
The question was, how could I possibly tell him? Then, while watching another drama, I saw it. The perfect scene. The perfect way to reply. A smile, the first genuine one in days, spread across my face. I knew exactly what I had to do.
(End of Lily's Perspective)
The world had dissolved into a single point of contact: her lips on mine. I don't have the words to describe it. It was soft, warm, and sent an electric jolt straight through my system, scrambling every thought in my head. One moment, I was standing in her office, ready for the final verdict, and the next, Miss Harrison—Lily—was kissing me.
When she finally pulled back, I was just standing there, frozen, my mind a blank slate of shock and awe. Her lips were so soft. That was the only coherent thought I could form.
Then she spoke, her voice a little breathless, her cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of pink. "I love you too."
My brain rebooted. "What?" I managed to choke out.
"I love you too, Adam," she repeated, a shy smile gracing her lips. "I was moved by your genuine and sincere feelings."
She… loves me too? The Demon Queen, the Ice Queen of Northwood High, Miss Harrison herself… loves me? How was this even possible? My internal monologue, usually a constant stream of sarcastic commentary, was completely shattered. There was just static.
Just as my brain was threatening to crash completely, a familiar red screen popped into my vision, its text glowing with an almost mocking brilliance.
[Congratulations! You have completed the new love mission!]
[Love Mission]: Teacher's Temptation[Objective]: Make your teacher, Lily Harrison, kiss you without your regards.[Duration]: 1 month[Penalty for Failure]: Castration[Reward]: Skill [Incubus], passive skill [Min], 100 Fear Coins, 50 Prayer Coins, and a massive +20 in every stat.
Incubus skill? Plus twenty to all stats? The system was really making things complex now. The shock of the kiss was now competing with the shock of the mission rewards. It was all too much.
Lily seemed to notice my catatonic state and continued, her voice taking on a more practical tone. "Don't worry about the headmistress, I've managed everything. When she asks you about it, just nod and agree with whatever I said, okay? I'll message you a location later. Let's go on a date sometime. But for now, you need to hurry to her office. Go."
She gently pushed me towards the door. Looking at her face, anyone could tell she was on cloud nine. The red tint on her fair skin, the way she couldn't quite meet my eyes… she was as embarrassed and flustered as I was. I tried my best to act normal as I walked out, but inside, I was a walking, talking system error.
Somehow, my legs carried me down the hall and to the principal's office. I took a deep breath, trying to get my bearings, and walked inside.
Sitting behind the large desk was a woman who could only be described as a masterpiece. She was voluptuous and curvaceous, with shiny, medium-length dark green hair. Bangs were swept artfully to the side, drawing attention to a pair of stunning blue-green eyes. Her lips were full, with a perfectly defined cupid's bow, and her complexion was a flawless, pale white. This was Mrs. Amelia Watson, the headmistress of Northwood High. A proper milf, if I ever saw one.
And sitting in a chair beside the desk was a younger, but no less stunning, version of her. It was her daughter, Tiffany Watson. She had the same hourglass figure, the same dark green hair, and the same rosy lips. Her eyes, however, were a piercing, pure green. They were a perfect mother-daughter duo; if they were out together, anyone would think they were sisters.
I stood there, waiting.
Mrs. Watson finally broke the silence, her voice smooth but firm. "Mr. Wilson. Do you have anything to explain for yourself?"
I looked her straight in the eye. "No. I don't have anything to explain."
A flicker of surprise crossed her face before she composed herself. "Very well. We are not expelling you. We've spoken with Miss Stacy, and she said that the two of you are a 'couple.' But still, kissing on school campus is not the right thing to do."
"I'm sorry," I said, deciding it was best to sound contrite. "In the future, I will moderate my actions."
"We also heard from Miss Lily that you were just trying to create a memory," she continued, her gaze intense. "But I don't want to hear about anything like this again."
"Yes, ma'am," I replied in my most obedient voice.
"First, sit down," she commanded, gesturing to the empty chair in front of her desk. I sat, now directly facing the two of them. "I also know you've created a guild of your own."
A cold sweat trickled down my back. How did she know that?
"Don't worry," she said, as if reading my mind. "We aren't judging you. In fact… we need your help."
I blinked. "My help? With what, ma'am?"
Her expression turned deadly serious. "Listen to me, Adam. As you know better than anyone, the environment in this school has become toxic. Dreadful. Bullying cases are on the rise, and most victims are too scared to even report it. I think you can understand more than anyone, as you were a victim yourself. It's not that we're blind to it. We know about the students' pain, their struggles. We know how scared they are. But we are… helpless. The people—the parents—behind the worst of these bullies are very powerful, both financially and politically. Thus, we have to keep a blindfold on."
Hearing this, hearing them admit they knew everything that had happened to me and countless others, made my blood boil. All the pain, the humiliation, the fear… they knew. And they did nothing. A furious, uncontrollable rage surged through me.
SMACK!
My hand slammed down on the principal's desk, the sound echoing in the silent office. I shot to my feet.
"How could you?!" I shouted, my voice raw with anger. "How could you just keep a blindfold on while students are suffering? Are you enjoying it? Our suffering? I'm so disappointed in you!"
"Mind your language!" Tiffany snapped, rising from her chair. "She is the principal of this school!"
"Let him say it, Tiffany," Mrs. Watson said softly, her voice heavy with regret. "He's saying the right thing. This is the truth. We really did keep a blindfold on. It is my inability to manage this school and create a nice and prosperous environment for our country's future generation."
"But Mom—" Tiffany started.
"Shhh…" Mrs. Watson silenced her, her eyes never leaving mine. I could see genuine guilt on her face, a deep-seated pain that mirrored my own anger. The sight deflated my rage, leaving only a hollow ache. I slowly sat back down.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled, "for acting on my impulse."
"It's okay, Adam," she said, her voice regaining some of its strength. "Your rage is genuine. Anyone would be angry if they knew. Thus, we need your help."
I looked at her, at the sincerity in her eyes. "How can I help you?"
"We know you have created your own guild," she said. "A group of students who used to be bullied. You are clear with your ideology that you will go after those who bully others."
"Yes, absolutely," I confirmed.
"I want you to control the bullying happening in this school," she stated plainly.
"Okay," I said, my mind racing. This was a massive opportunity.
"That's what we want," she continued. "And to help you, my daughter will assist you. She will join your guild and keep you in moderation."
I glanced at Tiffany, who stood with her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. An official babysitter. Fine. But I had a condition of my own.
"Okay, I understand," I said, looking back at Mrs. Watson. "But I want you to keep a blind eye on our actions. Would you be able to promise me that?"
She considered it for a moment. "To a certain extent. If you harm an innocent student, then I will intervene. Actively."
"Don't worry," I said, a confident smirk finally returning to my face. "Our targets aren't random mobs. I won't give you a chance to be disappointed."
"Then we have an agreement," she said with a nod. "You may leave. Tiffany, go with him."
I walked out of the office, the cool beauty Tiffany Watson walking silently by my side. As we stepped into the hallway, the students milling about stopped and stared. Their jaws practically hit the floor. The notorious troublemaker, Adam Wilson, wasn't being dragged out by security. He was walking alongside the headmistress's daughter as if they were old friends. The whispers started instantly.
As we walked, I broke the silence. "I still don't get it. Why can't your mom just handle these bullies herself? Use a harder approach to solve a simple problem."
Tiffany answered without looking at me, her tone serious and flat. "My mom can do it. But if she punishes them, their parents will play dirty tricks to get them out of trouble. And after that, the bullying just gets worse. Thus, she is helpless."
I felt a pang of sympathy for the headmistress. She was trapped. We reached the end of the hall. I stopped and turned to Tiffany, offering a warm smile.
"So, are you okay with this? Joining my guild?"
She finally met my gaze, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of determination in her green eyes. "I want to solve this issue. And help my mother. I will try my best to become useful."
"Then, Miss Tiffany Watson," I said, extending my hand. "Welcome to The Hunter's Guild."