Third POV
anwhile, in another place, sowhere inside a private villa, the petite girl with lilac hair was moving with a ferocity that didn't match her delicate figure or her innocent, doll-like face.
Arisu straddled the man beneath her, slamming her hips down over and over, her tight, dripping pussy swallowing the huge cock that stretched her raw.
Each ti she lifted her hips, his shaft glistened with her wetness before sinking right back inside, filling her up to the hilt.
"Arisu-chan, you're being so aggressive today," Takashi said with a lazy grin, his voice laced with amusent as he let her grind and ride him wildly.
He stayed laid-back, hands behind his head, as if enjoying the spectacle. "What's wrong? Are you jealous of Fuka?"
Her eyes burned with anger as she glared down at him, her body still trembling with pleasure even as she sneered.
"Humph… you scumbag. Hentai. I should've never trusted you in the first place, you perverted bastard of a boyfriend."
Her words carried venom, fueled by the mory of how close Takashi had been to Fuka during the banquet, and how their position as legitimate fiancées only made her feel even more insecure.
The more Arisu thought about it, the rougher her movents beca, her hips slamd down harder, faster, her pussy clenching desperately around him until her breath grew ragged and her eyes almost rolled back from the intensity of her orgasm.
Takashi seized the chance the mont her body quivered in climax.
He flipped her over with ease, pressing her down into the futon as he mounted her from above.
His cock drove into her soaked entrance again with a heavy thrust, making her cry out as he set the pace, ramming into her with the sa relentless intensity she had shown him.
"Well," Takashi murmured against her ear as her body squird beneath him, "maybe you shouldn't trust … but no matter what, you'll always be my favorite, Arisu."
He chuckled low.
Before she could snap back with another insult, his mouth crashed down onto hers.
His kiss silenced her, swallowing her muffled cries as her legs instinctively wrapped tight around his waist.
Even in her silent protest, her body betrayed her, she clung to him, hugging him tighter, refusing to let go even as his cock kept pounding into her.
The room filled with the sound of skin slapping, wet friction, and muffled moans.
Takashi kept thrusting deeper, harder, losing himself in the heat of her body. His climax hit hard, thick ropes of cum spilling deep inside her tight pussy.
But he didn't stop there, he kept moving, kept fucking her without pause, cumming inside her again and again as if he had no intention of ever letting her go.
There was nothing holding them back, just raw, ssy, endless sex, their bodies colliding again and again until the villa itself seed to echo with their cries and the sound of their passion.
...
Principal Sakayanagi's POV
"Sakayanagi, it has been quite a while since we've t." Professor Ayanokouji greeted with that smooth, calculated warmth of his, the kind of tone that could trick anyone into thinking we were lifelong companions.
I may allow myself to see him as an old acquaintance, but deep down I know better.
This man has never been about friendship. His eyes are the kind that always asure profit, always weigh interest, always scan for leverage.
To him, friendship is nothing more than a tool, a waiting resource to be exploited at the right mont.
And yet, despite knowing this cold and distasteful nature of his, I still ended up calling him a friend.
Perhaps that makes a fool, or perhaps it makes just as pragmatic as he is.
"Long ti no see as well, Professor Ayanokouji." I returned the greeting, my hand eting his in a firm shake.
Outwardly cordial, inwardly wary.
I knew well he hadn't co here out of nostalgia or sentint.
He needed sothing from . He always does.
His eyes narrowed, the fake warmth draining as his expression sharpened into a predator's. "You know, my friend, I've co across a rather unpleasant rumor. It concerns my son. Word is that he'll soon be enrolled in your school. They say he escaped from the White Room. Now tell , my friend, is there any truth to this rumor?"
"I don't understand, Professor Ayanokouji," I answered smoothly, masking my tone with ignorance.
Of course I understood. Of course I knew.
But I could never let him realize that I was protecting the boy. If he learned the truth, his son would be dragged back into that sterile cage, that twisted experint, and forced to endure a living hell I refused to allow.
What kind of father does this? What kind of man deliberately subjects his own child to such rciless trauma from such a young age, simply to fulfill his obsession with creating an artificial genius?
It is beyond cruel. It is incomprehensible.
He smiled at my response, but there was nothing resembling warmth in that expression.
"I am not here to take him back. Not now. But listen carefully, the Ichinose family has ddled with sothing that should never have belonged to them. They have touched what is mine. Their heir will indeed walk into your academy in the near future, but mark my words, Sakayanagi… I intend to make him pay the price for interfering with what should have remained untouched. And I need you to..."
I cut him off before he could finish his venomous request. "My academy is not your weapon for revenge. Do not mistake for one of your tools, Professor. I have tolerated you enough."
Yes, I already knew the truth he was dancing around. The movent was far too large to escape my notice.
A handful of brilliant children, products of the White Room, had been transferred under my care.
They arrived with the protection of both the governnt and the Ichinose family, a partnership strong enough to derail several of my old friend's carefully laid plans.
And the reason the governnt moved at all was because of .
Just as Kiyotaka deserves a chance at freedom, so too do the others.
I refuse to let them stripped of their youth, their innocence, and their freedom be used like disposable weapons.
That has never aligned with my principles.
This academy may be harsh, cruel even, with rules designed to break and mold students.
But compared to the White Room?
Advanced Nurturing Academy is heaven.
Here, at least, these youths can breathe the word "freedom," even if faintly.
In the White Room, there was only order, only control, only the suffocating silence of a cage.
And as long as they remain under my roof, they will never again be dragged back into that nightmare.
"Are you certain about this, old friend?" Professor Ayanokouji asked with a smirk tugging at his lips.
The mont that expression crossed his face, I felt a bad premonition.
Sothing was wrong.
Without hesitation, he tossed a photograph onto the table. It slid across the polished surface until it stopped in front of .
My eyes fell on it, Takashi Ichinose, seated at a restaurant, dining intimately with a beige-haired woman.
The way they leaned toward each other, the way their hands almost touched, it was unmistakable.
The cruel glint in Ayanokouji's eyes made it clear he had been waiting for this mont.
"Look closely," he said coldly. "This is your son-in-law. See how comfortable he is? He's cheating on your daughter. Tell , doesn't that make your blood boil?"
I t his gaze, refusing to flinch. "What do you want, Professor Ayanokouji?"
His smile widened, sharp and malicious.
"I want nothing more than for that boy to suffer. I want to see him dragged down into the mud where he belongs. I'll make sure he and my son clash until every last ounce of their value is drained. Throw that bastard into Class D, while my son in Class C. I'm confident, no, I'm certain that my son will grind him down, keep that mongrel chained in the garbage heap where he belongs, forever."
"That breaks the rules," I replied, my voice firm and steady. "The boy is exceptional. He's more than qualified to be placed in Class A."
But Professor Ayanokouji's smile didn't waver.
If anything, it grew colder, the kind of smile that said everything was already under his control. "Do you want to keep playing more of my cards, old friend? Do you want to reveal even more evidence, more reasons why he fits into Class D?"
The threat was clear. And I knew better than to dismiss it. This was not a man bluffing. His influence was vast, rivaling the power of Japan's pri minister.
His hands reached into the military of the United States, into international corporations, into foreign governnts and shadowy business partnerships.
To cross him carelessly would've been suicide.
I exhaled slowly, the weight of inevitability pressing against
"Then so be it," I finally said, my voice heavy with exhaustion.
"Good." He stood, clapping his hands once, pleased with himself.
"Happy cooperation, my old friend." He extended his hand.
I accepted the handshake calmly, my face giving away nothing. "Happy cooperation."
And with that, our deal was concluded.
The silent war between the Ichinose family and the White Room ended with Takashi Ichinose being thrown into Class D, the class despised by the school, the dumping ground where failures and rejects were piled up.
If he didn't rise all the way to Class A, the stain of being shackled in Class D would cling to his reputation forever.
That was the trap Professor Ayanokouji had prepared.
But Professor Ayanokouji made one mistake. He overestimated his son, and underestimated Takashi.
He thought Takashi was just another pushover, a pawn he could break.
I knew better. The man who had conquered my daughter's heart, who had given her joy and even helped cure her illness, that man was no diocrity.
So I smiled in silence, my face calm, hiding the blade behind my eyes.
One day, when Professor Ayanokouji least expected it, I would drive that blade straight into his back, and he wouldn't see it coming until it was too late.
...
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