Jacob was still riding the strange high of his interaction with Mira. For the first time in what felt like forever, someone had actually smiled at him. Not with pity. Not with disgust. But genuine, awkward interest.
They had just stepped out of the library together, Mira walking beside him with a stack of books hugged tight to her chest. She wasn't talking much, just glancing shyly his way now and then, as if she wasn't sure if this was real.
Jacob didn't blame her. He wasn't sure it was real either.
But everything changed when they passed the college courtyard.
"Hey, no way!" a voice rang out. It was loud, mocking. "Is that Jacob the Joke actually talking to someone who isn't a bot?"
Jacob's spine stiffened. He recognized the voice immediately, Tariq, one of the upperclassmen who always hung around like he owned the place. Behind him were two others, both smirking with that same cruel glint in their eyes.
"Dude, don't tell me you're into that?" Tariq laughed, jerking his thumb at Mira. "Bro's so desperate he's digging into the discount bin."
Mira froze. Her knuckles turned white around her books.
"Leave him alone," she said softly, but her voice barely carried. "He didn't do anything."
"Aww, look, the shy librarian speaks," one of the guys sneered. "Adorable. Go on, sweetheart, save your knight in rusty armor."
She stepped forward, trying to wedge herself between them and Jacob. "I said leave him alone."
The response was instant. One of the guys gave her a little shove, not enough to knock her down, but more than enough to cross a line.
Jacob's blood boiled.
"Hey! Don't touch her!"
He moved on instinct, shoving the guy back. That was all it took. The courtyard turned into chaos as fists flew. Jacob barely got one punch in before he was grabbed and slammed against the wall.
"hah, some low-class boob doll talk to you and you forget your place?, You really wanna play hero now?" Tariq growled, fist drawn back.
But before the punch could land, a sharp voice cut through the air like a whip.
"Enough!."
Everyone froze.
Heels clicked across the pavement. A woman strode into the scene, her presence enough to silence the courtyard.
Professor Elise Marrin, the English lecturer. She was tall, elegant, and had the kind of beauty that didn't fade with age, it just became more dangerous. Her tailored suit clung to her in all the right places, her white blouse slightly unbuttoned at the collar, hinting at skin that shouldn't look that good on a mother of two. Her skirt hugged her hips just enough to catch every eye without saying a word. She wore arrogance like perfume,subtle, but inescapable. Cougar energy, distilled and deadly.
Tariq stepped back immediately, eyes wide.
"P-Professor Marrin."
She folded her arms, expression unreadable. "Do I look like I'm running a cage fight? Go. Now. Before I report you all."
They didn't wait to be told twice. The three of them scattered like scared dogs.
Professor Marrin turned her gaze to Jacob. It wasn't concern. It wasn't sympathy. If anything, it was disappointment.
"Mr. Martin," she said, her voice clipped. "Again?"
Jacob tried to explain, but the words wouldn't come. His lip was bleeding. His shirt torn. He looked pathetic.
She sighed. "Mira, take him to the infirmary. I'm not wasting a lecture slot filling out incident reports."
"Yes, ma'am," Mira said quickly, already reaching for Jacob's arm.
Professor Marrin turned and walked away without another word. But Jacob couldn't help it. His eyes followed her.
As she turned and walked away, the fabric of her blouse fluttered just slightly with each step, but it was the hypnotic sway of her hips beneath it that commanded all attention. The blouse clung just enough to trace the elegant dip of her back and the pronounced curve of her buttocks, each stride setting them into motion.
And then he saw it.
Floating just above her head, in the familiar purple hue that now haunted his life:
TARGET IDENTIFIED: B-RANK
ATTRACTION: 0%
Jacob stared in disbelief. Of course. Of course she was one of them.
A literal bombshell of a professor with zero tolerance for his existence,and apparently, one of the targets he was expected to seduce.
He nearly laughed. This had to be a joke.
Mira tugged gently at his sleeve. "Come on, you're bleeding."
He let her guide him away, his head spinning. At least one target seems to favour him a bit . But if Professor Marrin was any sign of what was to come, this contract was probably going to kill him long before the countdown ever could.
In the quiet of the infirmary, Jacob lay on the examination bed, the bruises on his ribs throbbing with each breath. Mira sat beside him, dabbing antiseptic on a cut near his temple. Her hand trembled slightly, and her eyes kept darting away from his face.
"You shouldn't have done that," she murmured.
Jacob let out a shaky chuckle. "What, get beat up? That's kind of my thing."
"No," she said, more firmly. "Standing up for me. Now they'll just bully you more."
He turned his head slightly, meeting her eyes. "They already bully me. I'd rather they do it for the right reasons this time."
Mira was silent for a moment. Then she set down the cotton pad, her hands folding tightly in her lap. "They pick on me too, you know. The girls. They say I'm a pig pretending to be a scholar. That I read so much because I can't get a boyfriend."
Jacob sat up a bit, grimacing. "They're idiots. You're-…"
She turned toward him too quickly, and the edge of her shoe caught on the metal frame of the bed. She tripped, stumbling forward and suddenly, she was on top of him. Her soft weight pressed against his chest, her face inches from his, and before either of them could react, Jacob felt her breasts pressed against his face, warm and pillowy. His hands instinctively reached up to catch her, but ended up cupping the firm curve of her buttocks.
Time froze.
Mira went crimson. "Oh my God-…"
"I didn't mean to!" Jacob yelped, immediately releasing his hold, his face buried somewhere between flustered and apologetic.
She pushed herself up slightly but didn't move off him right away, her hair falling like a curtain around their faces. "It's okay," she whispered, then added, "I just... wasn't expecting that."
Jacob swallowed. His heart thundered in his chest.
"Me… neither," he said quietly.
For a second, their eyes met, vulnerable, charged.
Then Mira sat up, clearing her throat. "We should, um... clean that last cut. Before the nurse comes back."
Jacob nodded, still dazed. The heat of her body lingered on his, and a thought slid unbidden through his mind: oh how I wish the other targets could be like this