The evening air was cool, the sky painted in hues of bruised purple and orange.
As Alex walked, his exhaustion began to morph into a strange, giddy buzzing.
I passed, he thought, a stupid grin spreading across his face. I actually passed. And I scammed Cassandra into giving me an A.
But his thoughts didn't stay on academics for long. They drifted to something far more important.
Lily.
She had promised him a bath. A "service" bath.
Hehe...
Alex let out a giggle that was entirely unbefitting of a Duke's heir.
She said she'd scrub me. Does that mean the sponge, or... something else? Maybe she'll use those oils again. Maybe she'll her body to clean.
Lost in his delusions of sudsy paradise, Alex took a shortcut. He ducked into a narrow alleyway that cut between the magic supply district and the residential area.
It was dark. It was quiet. It was the perfect place for a protagonist to get mugged.
Alex was too busy humming a happy tune to notice the shadows detaching themselves from the brick walls.
"Hold it right there."
The voice was rough, feminine, and smelled like menthol cigarettes.
Alex stopped. He blinked, coming back to reality.
He was surrounded.
Three figures blocked his path—one in front, two flanking him.
Alex squinted in the dim light.
"Oh no," he whispered. "Delinquents?"
But as his eyes adjusted, the fear vanished, replaced instantly by appreciation.
These weren't just delinquents. They were Erosbound Delinquents.
The girl in the center—the leader—was leaning against a dumpster, blowing a pink bubble with her gum. She had messy, bleached hair and a glare that could cut glass.
Her uniform was a violation of public decency laws. Her skirt was rolled up at the waistband so many times that it was practically a belt. The hem was so high that the strings of her black thong were fully visible on her hips.
Her shirt was unbuttoned. Not just the top button—all of them. It hung open like a jacket, revealing a black lace bra that was struggling to contain her assets.
A tattoo of a black rose started on her cleavage and wound its way down her stomach, disappearing dangerously into the waistband of her panties.
The two girls flanking her were no better. One was smoking a cigarette, her shirt tied in a knot under her chest to show off her pierced navel. The other was licking a lollipop, wearing fishnets instead of the standard academy socks.
Pop.
The leader burst her gum bubble. She pushed off the wall and sauntered toward him, hips swaying with exaggerated swagger.
"So, Pimp," she sneered, blowing smoke into his face. "Did you bring the cash this time? Or do you want another beating?"
Alex blinked. The smoke stung his eyes, but he didn't care.
Pimp? Beating?
The memories clicked.
These were his bullies.
For the past year, the original Alex had been terrorized by this trio. They had extorted him, pushed him around, and humiliated him in these very alleys.
Alex stared at them.
He looked at the leader's exposed midriff. He looked at the sidekick's fishnets. He looked at the thong straps riding high on the leader's hips.
I was getting bullied by... this?
He didn't feel fear. He didn't feel anger.
He felt cheated.
Why did the old Alex hate this? he thought, his brain short-circuiting. This is a reward!
A slow, foolish smile spread across his face. It wasn't a smile of defiance. It was the smile of a man who had just realized his "torture" was actually a "feature."
"You..." Alex muttered, his eyes wide. "You're going to beat me?"
He stepped closer, invading the leader's personal space.
"If the beating comes from you ladies... then oh god, please, bully me more."
The silence in the alley was deafening.
The leader froze. Her hand, which had been reaching for his collar, stopped in mid-air.
She looked at Alex's face. There were no tears. No trembling. Just a weird, flushed expression and eyes that were looking at her like she was a steak dinner.
"Hah?" The leader recoiled, dropping her cigarette.
She looked at her friends. "Did... did he just ask for more?"
The girl with the lollipop took it out of her mouth, looking genuinely concerned. "Did we beat him too hard yesterday? He looks... broken."
"Yeah," the third girl muttered, stepping back. "He's smiling. It's creepy. I think he finally lost his mind."
The intimidation factor evaporated instantly. The fierce, sexy delinquents suddenly looked like worried nurses staring at a patient who had just started eating the drywall.
"Hey," the leader said, her voice wavering slightly. "You... you okay, Pimp? You're freaking me out."
Alex blinked, the leader's face just inches from his. Up close, he could smell the mix of cheap menthol, bubblegum, and sweat. It was intoxicating.
"Am I okay?" Alex repeated, a slow, predatory grin stretching across his face. "Darling, I'm better than okay. I'm enlightened."
He took a step forward.
Usually, this was the part where the victim cowered. But Alex didn't cower. He invaded her personal space, his eyes dropping shamelessly to the black rose tattoo disappearing into her panties.
"You call this a robbery?" Alex clicked his tongue, shaking his head with mock disappointment. "With outfits like these, it looks more like a solicitation."
The leader—let's call her Mara—spluttered, her face flushing a deep, angry red. "H-Hah?! You wanna die? I said hand over the credits!"
"I'm broke," Alex said cheerfully, turning out his empty trouser pockets. "Spent it all. Not a single credit to my name."
Mara grit her teeth. She grabbed his collar, trying to shove him against the wall. "Don't screw with me! If you don't have cash, then strip! That uniform is silk, we can pawn it!"
"Strip?"
Alex's eyebrows shot up. "Here? In this dirty alley?"
He looked at the two lackeys. The girl with the lollipop had stopped licking it, her eyes wide. The smoker was staring at his crotch.
"Well," Alex shrugged, his hands moving to his belt buckle. "If you insist."
Click.
He undid the buckle with a smooth, practiced motion.
Mara froze. "Wait."