Lor's heart pounded, though his wide-eyed expression was pure theater.
"Olivia! Why are you doing this to me?" he gasped, struggling against the ropes binding his wrists, his voice trembling as if he were truly terrified.
The abandoned classroom was dim, its broken windows letting in slivers of gray light, the air heavy with dust and the faint creak of old floorboards.
Olivia stood before him, her light brown hair styled in a short, wavy bob that framed her striking face.
Her hazel eyes glinted with a mix of suspicion and triumph, the flickering fire in her palm casting shadows over her tight shirt, which clung to her busty chest, and her tight pants, which hugged her hips and thighs like a second skin.
Lor's gaze lingered despite his act, her curves a distracting contrast to the tension in the room.
Olivia stepped closer, the flame in her hand steady, and held up a familiar scrap of paper.
"This was from me," she said, her voice low and sharp. She waved the note, the words "I know you helped Eva" scrawled across it, followed by Lor's casual "Ok" reply.
"So that was you," Lor said, his tone feigning surprise as he tugged at the ropes, his average build straining for effect. "What's this about?"
Olivia smirked, holding the paper closer, her shirt stretching slightly as she leaned in, offering a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage.
"What's with this 'Ok' nonsense? I slip you a note, and that's all you write?"
Lor shrugged, his hazel eyes meeting hers, his fear melting into a calculated nonchalance.
"What else was I supposed to do? You didn't make any demands or anything. Just 'I know you helped Eva.' So, yeah, Ok."
Olivia's eyes widened, then narrowed as she slapped her forehead, the flame in her hand flickering.
"Ugh, you're right. I forgot the blackmail part." She muttered under her breath, "No wonder I'm stuck in Class D."
Lor bit back a grin, his thoughts echoing her sentiment.
No wonder we're all in Class D.
But he kept his face nervous, tilting his head. "So, what's your demand now?"
Olivia straightened, her hazel eyes locking onto his, her busty figure silhouetted by the dim light. "I saw what you did with Eva," she said, her voice accusatory. "That coin-levitating trick, that weird thing you both were so focused on. What were you two doing?"
Lor's expression hardened, though his mind raced with amusement. "It's a secret," he said firmly. "I'm not telling."
Her smirk returned, sharper now.
She stepped closer, her tight pants emphasizing the sway of her hips.
"Then I'll tell Miss Silvia that Eva cheated on her tests. That you helped her using some cheat magic. A jump from two to ten in two days? That's suspicious enough. They'll believe me."
Lor's eyes narrowed, but his voice stayed calm. "We didn't cheat."
"Doesn't matter," Olivia said, tossing her wavy bob. "Eva's scores are too good, too fast. The teachers will investigate, and you'll both be in trouble."
Lor sighed, as if cornered, though he was already spinning his next move.
He slumped in the chair, his black hair falling over his eyes. "Fine. It wasn't cheating. It's… a magic of mine. A bloodline ability called the Guiding Light."
Olivia snorted, crossing her arms, her shirt straining further. "That sounds like complete bullshit."
"Maybe it is," Lor said, his grin creeping back. "But it's working for Eva. Why don't you try it? In exchange for keeping your mouth shut."
Olivia hesitated, her hazel eyes searching his face, her fire flickering as her confidence wavered. She bit her lip, then nodded sharply.
"Fine. Do it." She stepped forward, untying the ropes with a quick flick of her wrist, her fingers brushing his arms, sending a spark through him.
Lor rubbed his wrists, standing to face her.
He pulled a coin from his pocket, his fingers twitching with a subtle pulse of magic—far more precise than anyone in Class D suspected him capable of.
The coin rose, hovering steadily between them, its gleam catching the dim light. "What guidance do you seek?" he intoned, his voice deep and theatrical, barely hiding his amusement.
Olivia's expression hardened, her ambition clear despite her earlier blunder.
"There's an inter-class competition coming," she said, her voice firm. "I need to improve my spell-casting precision. I'm terrible at it—can't even hit a target half the time. If I place in the top two, I could transfer to Class C. This class is a mess, the teacher's useless, the lessons are a joke—"
"I don't care about your problems child," Lor cut in, his tone sharp, though his eyes lingered on her curves. "Tell me what guidance you seek."
Olivia glared, her cheeks flushing slightly. "I want guidance to improve my spell-casting precision," she said, her voice steady.
Lor let out a low hum, as if communing with some mystical force.
The coin dropped with a clink, and he pressed a hand to his forehead, feigning strain.
"The Guiding Light has spoken," he said, his grin slow and deliberate. "To receive its wisdom, you must… twerk for five minutes."