I managed to swallow the piece of steak that had nearly ended my second life. My chest was still burning, and my eyes were a little watery. Across the table, Lyra the Elf girl was still staring at me with her big, green, worried eyes, making me feel like a pathetic puppy.
"A-are you sure you don't need water?" she asked, her voice as soft as the whisper of wind through leaves. She pushed her untouched glass of juice toward me.
"N-no, thanks. I'm fine," I answered hoarsely, trying to salvage some of my dignity. "Just... choked."
She nodded slowly, but her anxious expression didn't fade. She looked down again, taking a small bite of her apple, pretending not to watch me anymore, though I could see her beautiful, pointed ears twitching slightly a sign she was still listening.
Meanwhile, inside my head, World War III was breaking out.
'A PERMANENT TITLE?! ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE?!' I screamed at the System. 'ABOVE MY HEAD?! ALL WOMEN CAN SEE IT?! THAT'S WORSE THAN DEATH!'
[Precisely. That's the point of a penalty, Host. To motivate. To ensure you don't slack off and accept your fate as an extra. I'm investing in you, so you have to deliver results.]
'RESULTS?!' I almost shouted out loud. 'You're telling me to get personal items from the three most dangerous girls in the first year! Isolde could burn me alive, Kira the Beastkin would probably snap my neck, and Lyra... this Lyra...'
I glanced at the Elf girl in front of me. She seemed so fragile and shy. But I knew from the game that her nature magic could turn an entire forest into a deadly weapon if she wanted. Getting her handkerchief wouldn't be as simple as just asking. She'd probably faint from anxiety if I tried to speak more than two sentences to her.
[That's the challenge. Use that perverted brain of yours that you're so proud of. You have until the end of the ceremony tomorrow. The clock is ticking.]
The panel disappeared, leaving me alone with my panic and a plate full of food that suddenly tasted like ash. This mission was impossible. The tutorial mission was child's play. This was a boss level.
I tried to calm down, forcing myself to eat. I needed energy. I needed to think.
'Okay, let's break down the problem,' I thought, mimicking the style of my annoying old manager. 'Three targets, three items. I have to tackle them one by one.'
Target 1: Isolde von Brandt.Item: A strand of hair. Difficulty: She hates my guts. Approaching her directly is suicide. I have to get it without her noticing. Maybe when she's not looking? Or provoke her into attacking me and grab it in the chaos? No, too risky.
Target 2: Kira, the Beastkin senior.Item: One uniform button. Difficulty: I haven't even met her. I don't know where she is, what she's like, or how strong she is. I'd have to find her first. Getting a uniform button means getting pretty close physically. Beastkin have sharp senses. She'd definitely notice.
Target 3: Lyra Valeriana.Item: Handkerchief. Difficulty: She's right here. Directly in front of me. This is my best shot. But how? Ask directly? No way. She'd get suspicious. Steal it? She's carrying a small bag; it might be in there. But stealing from an Elf right in front of her? I'd have better luck stealing honey from a dragon's nest.
I looked at Lyra again. She ate so slowly and politely. Every movement was filled with grace. She was the very picture of purity. And I had to think of a sneaky way to get her handkerchief. I felt like the lowest villain in the world.
Suddenly, a crazy idea flashed in my mind. A plan that was super cliché, super cheap, but maybe... just maybe, it would work. A plan that involved clumsiness, a little bit of acting, and a whole lot of luck.
I finished my food quickly, my heart pounding at the thought of my plan. I had to do it now, while I had the chance.
"Ehm," I cleared my throat softly to get her attention.
Lyra looked up, her green eyes widening slightly in surprise.
"Y-yes?"
"My name's Leon. Leon Richter," I said, trying for a friendly smile. "Looks like we'll be classmates."
"I-I'm Lyra Valeriana," she replied, her voice barely a whisper. "It's... nice to meet you."
"You too," I said. 'Okay, phase one small talk is done. Now for the hard part.'
I picked up my empty juice glass and stood up.
"Well, I'm heading out. See you in class, Lyra."
"G-goodbye," she replied, looking relieved that the awkward conversation was over.
I turned and started walking toward the tray return counter. I took five steps, and then... I executed my plan.
I intentionally tripped myself.
Thump!
I took a dramatic forward tumble, making sure my tray flew from my hands and landed on the floor with a loud, clattering crash.
CRASH!
All attention in that corner of the hall immediately snapped to me. I groaned in pain, even though I had landed pretty safely. I was an actor now.
"Ouch... damn it..." I muttered, just loud enough to be heard.
As I expected, Lyra, with her naturally kind-hearted nature, immediately jumped from her chair.
"Leon-san! Are you okay?!" she cried, rushing over to me.
I watched her approach from my position on the floor. And that's when I saw it. Hanging from the pocket of her robe, its lacy edge peeking out... a clean, white cotton handkerchief.
'Bingo,' I thought, while on the outside I kept my most pained expression. 'Now, how do I grab it?'
Lyra knelt beside me, her green robe sweeping across the dirty wooden floor. Her beautiful face was so close to mine, filled with genuine concern. I could see the faint freckles on her nose and smell a subtle, floral scent from her hair. For a second, I felt guilty for deceiving a girl this pure. The feeling vanished as quickly as it came when I remembered the diarrhea penalty and the permanent impotent title.
"Leon-san! Are you hurt? Is anything broken?" she asked frantically, her green eyes scanning my body for injuries.
'Showtime,' I thought.
"Argh... my ankle," I groaned, touching my right ankle and wincing in pain. "I think I twisted it when I fell."
"Twisted?!" her panic increased. "Don't move! I'll go get Sister Beatrix from the nurse's office!"
She was just about to stand up when I quickly grabbed the edge of her robe.
"W-wait! You don't have to," I said, trying to sound tough. "It's probably not that bad. Can you just... help me sit up first?"
This was the bait. To help me sit up, she would have to get closer, very close.
"O-of course," she replied without hesitation.
She shifted her position, wrapping a slender arm around my back to support me. Her arm felt soft yet firm. As she leaned in, I could feel the warmth of her body and, holy shit, her large, soft tits accidentally pressed against my shoulder. The heavenly sensation almost made me lose focus.
[Warning: Host detected to be on the verge of losing concentration due to tit-based stimulation. Focus on the mission, you perverted monkey!]
'Shut up!' I snapped internally, while keeping my pained expression.
With her help, I slowly shifted into a sitting position. I stretched my "twisted" ankle out in front of me. Lyra was still kneeling beside me, her hand still on my back, making sure I didn't fall again.
Her position was perfect. Her robe pocket, where the handkerchief was, was now right next to my free hand.
"How is it? Does it hurt a lot?" she asked, her attention completely focused on my ankle.
"Just... throbbing a little," I replied, gritting my teeth for dramatic effect.
Now. Time to make my move.
While Lyra's eyes were fixed on my foot, my left hand began to move, slowly, inch by inch, like a stalking snake. My heart was pounding so hard I was afraid she could hear it. My fingers finally touched the soft cotton of her robe, then the edge of the handkerchief peeking out.
The fabric felt incredibly fine and clean. With an extremely careful motion, I pinched the edge with my thumb and forefinger. This was the most tense moment of my second life.
I began to pull it out, very, very slowly.
One inch. Two inches.
The handkerchief slid out of the pocket without a sound. I didn't dare to breathe.
Just as the handkerchief was almost completely out, Lyra suddenly turned toward me.
"Maybe we should..."
My heart stopped. I froze.
But thankfully, her gaze wasn't on my hand, but on my face.
"Maybe we should still call the nurse. You look really pale."
I swallowed, calming myself down.
"N-no, really. I just need to rest for a minute."
While I was talking, with a final, quick movement hidden behind my body, I managed to pull the handkerchief completely free and immediately stuffed it into my pants pocket. Success. First trophy secured.
[Congratulations! Mission Objective 1/3 (Obtain a handkerchief belonging to Lyra Valeriana) is complete! You've proven that you're not just a pervert, but also a talented pickpocket.]
I almost laughed out loud in relief.
"Alright then," Lyra said, still looking unsure. "Let me help you up and over to a nearby bench."
"Thank you, you're so kind, Lyra-san," I said with the most sincere expression I could muster.
With great difficulty (which was, of course, faked), I stood up with her support. I deliberately put a little of my weight on her, enjoying this rare opportunity. She was much stronger than she looked.
I limped dramatically toward an empty bench, with Lyra as my fragrant and soft human crutch. After I was "safely" seated, she finally let go.
"Are you sure you'll be okay alone?" she asked one last time.
"Yes, I'm sure. Thank you so much for your help. I really owe you one," I said.
She blushed, a faint pink hue appearing on her pale cheeks.
"I-it's no problem. Glad I could help. Well then... I'll be going."
She gave a little bow, then turned and quickly walked back to her table to get her books, as if embarrassed by being the center of attention.
I watched her go, a sly, victorious smile playing on my lips. I reached into my pocket and felt the soft cotton of the handkerchief. It felt more satisfying than any salary bonus.
One down. Two to go.
I looked at the crowd of students in the hall, my mind already shifting to the next targets. Isolde's red hair and Kira's uniform button.
This game... had just begun.