Lor slouched at the back of Class D's cramped classroom, his black hair falling messily over his hazel eyes, his average build blending into the worn wooden desk.

He was the only boy in a sea of girls, a fact that earned him sneers and whispered jabs.

"Useless," one girl muttered as she passed his desk, her skirt swishing. "No magic, no brains," another giggled.

Lor ignored them, keeping his gaze fixed out the window—or so it seemed. In truth, his eyes flicked to the curves of their tight uniforms, the way their blouses strained against their chests, the glimpses of plump thighs beneath short skirts.

He had a secret which he never told anyone, he was a reincarnate from Earth, and while this world's magic and swords fascinated him, its women were the real spectacle.

At the front, Miss Silvia, their busty, clumsy teacher, scribbled on the chalkboard. Her auburn hair was pinned in a loose bun, her glasses slipping down her nose as she wrote, "22 + 24 = ?"

Her white jacket and pencil skirt clung to her figure, accentuating every sway of her hips. "Come on, class," she said, voice bright but strained. "Anyone?"

"48!" shouted a girl with blonde pigtails, her confidence unshaken.

"42!" called another, twirling green hair around her finger.

Miss Silvia sighed, then turned to Lor. "Lor, your turn."

He shrugged, keeping his voice dull. "424."

The classroom erupted in laughter, sharp and mocking.

A girl with red curls leaned over, whispering loudly, "As if he'd know."

Miss Silvia adjusted her glasses, a faint smirk on her lips. "That's… as far off as the moon, Lor. It's 46." She turned back to the board, oblivious to the sting of her words.

Lor didn't care.

He knew it was 46.

This world's education was a joke—second-grade math by Earth standards.

As a reincarnate, he could ace every test, master every spell, and dominate this academy if he chose.

But attention brought questions, and questions could unravel his secret.

So he played the fool, the talentless boy in a class of misfit girls, content to coast and enjoy the view.

And what a view it was.

Class D's girls were distractingly gorgeous, their uniforms designed like a pervert's dream: short skirts, thigh-high stockings, blouses that left little to the imagination.

Lor's eyes lingered on a girl in the front row, her skirt riding up to reveal a flash of lace panties.

Another adjusted her stockings, her fingers brushing her plump thighs.

He smirked, his fingers twitching under the desk.

A faint spark of magic danced at his fingertips—nothing flashy, just a subtle breeze he'd mastered in secret.

With a flick of his wrist, the air stirred, nudging the skirt of a brunette nearby.

The fabric lifted just enough to expose a sliver of pink fabric before she yelped, smoothing it down and shooting a glare around the room.

Lor kept his face blank, doodling in his notebook, the picture of innocence.

The girls' disdain for him only made it easier.

They thought he was useless, a mana-less nobody who didn't belong in their class.

Fine by him.

It meant they didn't suspect him when a "random" gust fluttered their skirts or a button popped loose on a too-tight blouse.

He was careful, never pushing it too far—just enough to keep his days entertaining.

Mid-lesson, Miss Silvia fumbled her chalk, and it clattered to the floor.

"Oh, bother," she muttered, bending down to retrieve it.

Her pencil skirt rode up, revealing the smooth curve of her ass cheeks and a glimpse of lacy black panties.

Lor's breath caught, his eyes glued to the sight.

Half the class giggled, the other half rolled their eyes, but Lor just leaned forward, committing the moment to memory.

Silvia straightened, blushing as she adjusted her skirt, oblivious to the fact that she'd just made his day.

"Focus, class," she said, flustered, pushing her glasses up.

But Lor was already lost in thought, planning his next subtle spell.

Class D might be the academy's dumping ground—full of girls with poor grades, weak magic, or social quirks—but it was his playground.

Most of them dreamed of climbing to Class C, B, or the elite Class A, where powerful mages trained for glory.

Their efforts always fell short, but Lor had no intention of helping.

Not yet.

For now, he'd keep his intellect hidden and his magic subtle, savoring the perks of being the only guy in a room full of curves.

The bell rang, and the girls filed out, their chatter echoing.

"Useless Lor," one muttered, brushing past him.

He shrugged it off, grabbing his bag and heading for his home, already plotting a nap.

Later that afternoon, Lor realized he'd left his spellbook in the classroom.

Grumbling, he trudged back, pushing open the door to find the room empty—except for one girl.

Eva sat at her desk, her dark blue hair with pink streaks spilling over her shoulders, the large blue bow on her head slightly crooked.

Her straight bangs framed a face twisted in frustration, her green eyes glistening with unshed tears.

She clutched a crumpled test paper, her curvy figure tense as she banged her forehead lightly against the desk.

Her tight uniform hugged her chest, the top button straining, and her skirt had ridden up, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her panties and plump thighs.

Lor's gaze lingered, his pulse quickening, before he forced himself to focus.

"Rough day?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe with a casual air.

Eva's head snapped up, her eyes blazing.

"Mind your own damn business, you creep," she snapped, her voice sharp but shaky. She shoved the test paper into her bag, but not before Lor caught the score: 2/100.

He raised an eyebrow.

Eva was one of Class D's loudest dreamers, always bragging about topping the class and climbing to Class A.

That score must've shattered her.

The other girls mocked her ambition, but she kept pushing, her fiery spirit as captivating as her figure.

For a moment, Lor considered walking away.

He didn't owe her anything—Class D's girls treated him like dirt, and he was happy staying invisible.

But her slumped shoulders, the way her bow quivered as she fought back tears, stirred something in him.

An idea formed, wild and risky, blending his sharp mind with his… less noble impulses.

He stepped closer, grabbing his spellbook but lingering by her desk.

"Math's not your thing, huh?" he said, keeping his tone light.

Eva glared, her cheeks flushed.

"What do you care? You're barely passing yourself, loser."

Lor's grin widened.

She had no idea he could solve her test in his sleep. He leaned against her desk, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "What if I could help you ace the next math test? Get you closer to that Class A dream?"

Her eyes narrowed, suspicious but intrigued.

"You? Help me? What's the catch, creep?"

Lor's heart raced. This was it—the gamble that could change everything. 

"Let's just say I've got a special method," he said, his grin turning mischievous.

"Interested?"

...

Lor's grin was barely concealed as he leaned against Eva's desk, his hazel eyes glinting with mischief. 

"How?" she demanded, crossing her arms, which only accentuated her curves. "How could you possibly help me with math? You're the class loser."

Lor's grin didn't falter. He straightened, adopting a serious tone, though his mind raced with the ridiculous plan forming.

"It's a secret," he said, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "You can't tell anyone. I have a… special magical ability. A bloodline power called 'The Guiding Light.'"

Eva's brows furrowed, her bow quivering as she tilted her head. "The Guiding Light? Never heard of it. Sounds like something you made up to sound cool."

Lor chuckled, unfazed. He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a dramatic whisper. "It's rare. My grandfather discovered it, passed it down through our family. He was a wandering mage, helping the hopeless with his gift. It's not in any academy records because it's… unconventional."

She rolled her eyes, but curiosity flickered in her gaze. "If you've got some fancy power, why aren't you using it on yourself? Why're you stuck in Class D, flunking like the rest of us?"

"Simple," Lor said, his tone smooth as silk.

"The Guiding Light only works on others. My grandfather's vision was to uplift those in need, not to selfishly boost himself. It's a power of guidance, not personal gain." He fought back a smirk. The lie was so absurdly perfect, he almost believed it himself.

Eva's suspicion didn't waver. "Okay, so what is this Guiding Light? What does it do?"

Lor paused for effect, letting the silence build tension.

"It's a mystical force," he said, his voice taking on a reverent tone. "If you tell me your problem and seek my guidance, the Light reveals a… ritual. A specific act we must perform together. Once it's done, and the light is satisfied, it grants you clarity and wisdom for a time. But," he added, his eyes glinting, "the acts it demands are… like I mentioned earlier, unconventional. Sometimes downright obscene."

Eva's face flushed crimson, her eyes widening. "You're such a pervert!" she shouted, slamming her hands on the desk and standing up, her skirt riding up slightly to reveal a flash of her panties.

"You think I'm gonna fall for this crap? You just want an excuse to creep on me!"

Lor raised his hands defensively, though his grin betrayed his amusement.

"Believe what you want, Eva. But think about it." He stepped closer, his voice low and persuasive.

"What if I'm telling the truth? What if this could get you that score you crave, get you out of Class D, all the way to Class A? You're desperate, aren't you?" He gestured to the crumpled test paper. "Two out of a hundred isn't gonna cut it."

Eva's glare faltered, her lips trembling as she sank back into her seat.

The weight of her failure hung heavy, her dreams of climbing the academy's ranks slipping further away.

Lor watched her, his heart racing.

He was playing a dangerous game, but the thrill of it—blending his Earth-born intellect with a fake magical ruse—was intoxicating.

"Tell you what," he said, grabbing his spellbook from his desk. "Think it over. If you change your mind, let me know." He turned to leave, his steps deliberate, counting on her desperation to pull her back.

"Stop," Eva called, her voice softer but firm.

Lor paused, his grin widening as he turned to face her. Her face was red, her hands clenched into fists on the desk. "Fine," she said, barely meeting his eyes. "I'll… I'll do it. But this better not be some sick joke."

"It's no joke," Lor said, his tone serious but his eyes gleaming. "But it's a secret. No one can know."

Eva nodded, her cheeks still flushed. "Okay. But the academy's too public—no way we're doing anything weird here. If this is real, we'll do it at my place. A… study session." Her voice wavered, as if she couldn't believe her own words.

Lor raised an eyebrow, impressed by her boldness. "Fair enough. But first, you need to tell me what you want. Then I'll tell you what the Light demands."

Eva hesitated, then leaned forward, her voice low. "Tell me what I have to do first. Then I'll decide if I want the help of the light or not."

"Alright," Lor said, sitting across from her, his pulse quickening.

He pulled a silver coin from his pocket and placed it on the desk between them.

"This is how it works. I enter a trance, the coin levitates, and you tell me your problem and what guidance you seek. The Light will tell me the ritual, and we'll know what to do."

Eva's eyes narrowed, but she nodded. "Fine. Do it."

Lor closed his eyes, his fingers twitching subtly under the desk.

A faint pulse of magic—carefully controlled, far more precise than anyone in Class D suspected him capable of—flowed through him.

The coin wobbled, then rose smoothly, hovering between their faces with eerie stability.

Eva's breath caught, her skepticism wavering.

Lor sucked at magic—everyone knew that.

He could barely light a candle in class.

Yet here he was, levitating a coin like a master.

"What guidance do you seek, child?" Lor intoned, his voice deep and theatrical, barely suppressing a smirk.

Eva stared at the coin, then at him, her resolve hardening.

"I want a perfect score in math," she said firmly.

Lor's eyes remained closed, his voice steady. "That's a wish, child, not guidance."

Her bow quivered as she leaned forward, frustrated. "What's the difference?"

"Guidance is a path," he said, his voice still deep, the coin steady in the air. "I can guide you to score higher in math than you did this time. Much higher."

"Yes!" Eva said immediately, her voice desperate. "Do it!"

Lor let out a low, guttural hum, as if channeling some ancient force.

His eyes snapped open, and the coin dropped to the desk with a sharp clink.

He pressed a hand to his forehead, feigning strain, though his mind was clear as ever.

He'd already decided the "ritual" the moment he saw her test score.

"What did you see?" Eva asked, her voice urgent, leaning so close her blouse strained further, offering a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage.

Lor met her gaze.

"The Guiding Light has spoken," he said. "To receive its wisdom, I must… squeeze and play with your breasts for five minutes."

...

Eva's face burned red, her green eyes wide with shock and fury.

"Squeeze my what?" she sputtered, her voice echoing in the empty classroom.

Her dark blue hair, streaked with pink, bounced as she stood, her large blue bow quivering.

Her tight uniform strained against her curvy figure, a glimpse of lace panties flashing as her skirt shifted.

"You're disgusting, Lor! I'm not doing that!"

Lor shrugged, his hazel eyes glinting with amusement as he tucked his spellbook under his arm.

"Suit yourself," he said, his tone casual but laced with challenge.

"But you know where to find me if you change your mind." He turned and strolled out of the classroom, leaving Eva fuming, her crumpled 2/100 test paper still clutched in her hand.

Inside, he was grinning.

He'd planted the seed—her desperation would do the rest.

That evening, Lor lounged in his room, a modest space with a wooden desk, a single bed, and shelves crammed with spellbooks he pretended not to understand.

He was sketching a half-hearted rune in his notebook when a knock came at the front door.

His mother's voice carried through the house, cheerful and curious.

"Oh, hello! Are you one of Lor's classmates?"

"Y-Yes," came Eva's hesitant reply. "I'm here for a… study session."

Lor's grin widened.

He tossed the notebook aside and bounded downstairs. His mother, a plump woman with kind eyes and black hair like his, beamed at Eva.

"Well, isn't that nice! Lor, you didn't tell me you had a friend coming over."

"She's not a friend, Ma," Lor said, keeping his tone bored. "Just a classmate."

He glanced at Eva, who stood in the doorway, her cheeks pink, her uniform as tight and distracting as ever.

"Come on," he said, jerking his head toward the stairs.

Eva followed, her steps hesitant, her bow bouncing slightly.

In his room, Lor shut the door and leaned against his desk, arms crossed.

"Thought you said no," he teased, his eyes flicking over her figure—her blouse straining against her chest, her skirt barely covering her plump thighs.

Eva glared, her face still flushed. "I thought about it," she muttered, avoiding his gaze. "I need better marks in math. If your stupid Guiding Light thing is real, I'll… try it. But if you're lying, I'll make you regret it."

Lor chuckled, motioning to a chair. "Fair enough. Sit. Let's get started."

Eva sat, her posture rigid, her hands clenched in her lap.

Lor pulled another chair close, facing her, and placed the same coin from the classroom on his desk.

"Same deal as before," he said. "The Guiding Light demands a ritual. You agreed to it."

Eva's eyes narrowed, but she nodded, her lips tight. "Just… get it over with."

Lor closed his eyes, his fingers twitching subtly under the desk.

A faint pulse of magic—precise, controlled, far beyond what anyone in Class D thought him capable of—lifted the coin.

It hovered between them, steady and gleaming. "The Light has spoken," he intoned, his voice deep and theatrical. "For five minutes, I must… squeeze and play with your breasts."

Eva's breath hitched, but she didn't back out.

"Fine," she whispered, her voice trembling but resolute. "Do it."

Lor's heart raced, though he kept his face calm.

He reached out, his hands hovering over her blouse, the fabric stretched tight over her full, round breasts.

He squeezed gently, the soft, warm weight yielding under his fingers, the texture of her blouse smooth but slightly rough where the seams strained.

Eva tensed, her breath catching, her cheeks burning redder.

The warmth of her skin radiated through the fabric, her curves impossibly soft yet firm, like ripe fruit begging to be held.

Lor's fingers traced slow circles, savoring the plush give, the way her blouse shifted with each movement.

After a minute, he paused, his voice low.

"The Light demands a closer touch," he said, his grin barely hidden.

His hands slipped under her blouse, brushing against the silky warmth of her skin, finding the lacy edge of her bra.

The bra was soft, slightly padded, the fabric cool against his fingers, contrasting with the heat of her body. He squeezed again, feeling the delicate lace press into her curves, the faint outline of her nipples stiffening under his touch.

Eva's breath came in short gasps, her thighs shifting, her bow quivering as she fought to stay composed.

"Dare go under the bra, and I'll break the Light's damn fingers," she snapped, her voice shaky but fierce, her green eyes blazing.

Lor chuckled, pulling his hands back to her bra, keeping the contact light but sensual. "Noted," he said, his fingers lingering on the lace, tracing the edges where it hugged her curves.

The five minutes stretched, each second electric, the air thick with tension.

Eva's breasts seemed to throb under his touch, her body betraying her embarrassment with every shiver.

"Time's up," Eva said abruptly, pulling back, her blouse disheveled, her face scarlet. She adjusted her bow, her hands trembling. "Now help me, you perv."

Lor leaned back, his grin fading into a mock-serious expression.

"Alright," he said, opening a math textbook and closing his eyes as if possessed.

"The Light guides us." In truth, he was pulling from his Earth knowledge, where basic math was child's play.

He opened his eyes, his voice calm and confident. "Let's start simple."

He grabbed a handful of small stones from his desk, leftovers from a failed alchemy project.

"Imagine these are apples," he said, placing five stones in front of her. "You have five apples. Your friend gives you three more. How many do you have?"

Eva frowned, hesitant. "Eight?"

"Exactly," Lor said, smiling. "Now, let's say you want to share those eight apples with two friends, so three of you total. How many apples does each person get?"

Eva bit her lip, her brow furrowing. Lor placed the stones in three piles, nudging them around. "Think of it like splitting candy. You want everyone to get the same amount." He moved the stones, showing two piles of three and one pile of two.

"See? Eight divided by three gives you two each, with two left over."

Eva's eyes widened, a spark of understanding flickering. "Wait, that makes sense."

For the next hour, Lor guided her through basic addition and division, using stones, coins, and even sketches of pies to explain fractions.

"Picture slicing a pie into four pieces," he said, drawing a circle and dividing it. "If you eat one piece, three are left. That's three-fourths." He kept it simple, like teaching a kid, his voice patient but firm.

Eva leaned forward, her earlier embarrassment forgotten, her bow bobbing as she nodded along.

By the end, she was solving problems on her own, her face lighting up with each correct answer.

"I… I actually get it," she said, staring at the textbook, her voice soft with wonder. "How did you—?"

"The Guiding Light," Lor said, though his mind was racing with pride.