The Academy's Doomed Side Character Chapter 142: Blackmail [4]

She groaned, dragging a hand down her face. "You’re the worst. You know that?"

"I’ve heard."

A tense silence hung in the air again.

She crossed her arms, tapping a finger against her elbow, eyes narrowed as she recalculated her approach. I could almost see the gears grinding behind her eyes.

Then, slowly, carefully, she said, "Alright. How about this—I drop the picture completely. For real. Delete it right here in front of you. And in exchange, you just... put your na down on the club roster."

"No introductions?"

"No introductions," she confird, raising a brow. "Just the na. I won’t bother you again. You won’t even need to show up. I just need the numbers for official recognition. That’s it."

I tilted my head.

"You want to help you get your club officially recognized... by faking my mbership?"

She shrugged like it was the most natural thing in the world. "That’s how half the clubs here operate. Don’t look at like I invented corruption. I’m just playing the system."

"You’re honest for a stalker."

"And you’re smug for a walking headache."

I smirked. "You’re not denying the stalker part."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. A researcher, then."

"A researcher who blackmails people."

"A researcher with poor thods and even worse judgnt, happy now?"

"Almost."

She gave a long look, then sighed. "I’ll even buy you lunch. Twice."

"Two lunches and you won’t bother again?"

"I won’t even breathe in your direction."

I pretended to consider it.

Two free lunches wasn’t much—but avoiding a long-term headache and getting my na cleared off that mysterious picture was worth more than gold.

"...Alright," I said finally. "You’ve got a deal. Put my na down. But if you bother or try anything else, I’ll file an official complaint and then send a private letter to the Student Council with the whole story."

She blinked. "You’d really go that far?"

"Oh, I’ll include dramatic screenshots and everything. Maybe even a tear-stained essay."

She grimaced. "You’re terrifying."

I gave her a thumbs-up. "Thanks."

With a resigned grumble, she opened her tablet and, right in front of , deleted the picture. Then she pulled up the club registry form and typed in my na.

"There. Done."

"Pleasure doing business."

"I’ll rember this betrayal when I’m famous," she muttered under her breath.

"You can thank in your award speech."

She gave one last withering look, then turned on her heel and walked away, muttering sothing about "jerks with nice hair being the absolute worst."

I watched her go, then shook my head.

Honestly... she was insane.

But in her own twisted way, she kept her word.

And that was more than I could say for most people around here.

I didn’t expect to see her again after that.

I figured she’d file away under "Uncooperative Bastards" and move on to harassing so other poor soul. But—of course—not even twenty-four hours passed before her na popped up again.

[You’ve been tagged in a post on the Academy’s internal feed: "Observation Club — Now Official!"]

I opened it with mild curiosity and imdiate regret.

There it was. The announcent.

Complete with a stupid picture.

Not of , thankfully—but of her, standing in front of a freshly assigned classroom, throwing up a peace sign like she’d just won the Grand Magic Tournant. And in the caption, tagged proudly:

"Special thanks to Rin for supporting us!"

I stared blankly at it for a full five seconds before muttering, "That liar."

Was I really surprised? No.

Was I still annoyed? Yes. Deeply.

Before I could even decide whether or not to publicly deny the post, a ssage pinged into my inbox.

From: The Devil Herself

Subject: Chill

> Don’t be mad. I didn’t say you were an active mber. Just... thanked you. For your support. Which you technically gave.

Also, lunch? Tomorrow? I owe you one.

I sighed through my nose.

Technically, she hadn’t broken our agreent.

But she’d still managed to twist it just enough to make it annoying.

"Support," I muttered, flicking the ssage closed. "Sure. Let’s call it that."

---

The next day, she showed up right on schedule.

I was halfway through eating alone in the cafeteria when she dropped her tray across from with a thud and slid into the seat like she owned it.

"Good afternoon, contractual mber of the Observation Club," she said, grinning.

"You’re pushing your luck."

"And you’re predictable. Still sitting in the sa spot. Still eating the sa combo. I’m beginning to think you enjoy consistency too much."

I stabbed my fork into my food, unimpressed. "I enjoy peace. Sothing you keep taking from ."

She nudged a carton of juice across the table. "Peace is overrated. Juice?"

"...Thanks."

We ate in silence for a bit—well, I ate. She kept watching with that annoying sparkle in her eyes like she’d just tad a wild animal and was proud of it.

"So," she said finally, resting her chin on one hand. "Why’d you agree, anyway?"

I looked at her. "I told you. Because it gets you off my back."

"Liar. You could’ve kept being stubborn. Threatened again. Gotten that tear-stained essay ready. But you didn’t."

I shrugged. "Because you asked properly."

"Liar again."

I paused. Then smiled. "Maybe."

She narrowed her eyes. "You’re not going to tell , are you?"

"Nope."

She huffed, grabbing her juice like it had personally offended her. "You’re impossible."

"And yet you bought lunch."

She rolled her eyes. "One down, one to go."

"Looking forward to it."

"You shouldn’t be. Next ti I’m making you eat cafeteria fish."

"Then I rescind the deal."

"Too late. It’s legally binding now."

We sat in another stretch of silence.

But this ti, it wasn’t tense. Just... weirdly tolerable.

She leaned back in her chair, sipping her drink. "So... no introductions, huh?"

"Nope."

"Not even a tiny one?"

I gave her a look.

"Okay, okay," she said, hands raised. "No introductions. Promise."

I didn’t believe her for a second. But for now?

She’d paid for lunch.

And she’d kept her end of the bargain.

That was good enough—for now.