The door shut behind him like the lid on a coffin.
But the air was warm.
Too warm.
The room glowed dimly with suspended orbs of rose and amber light, floating mid-air like lazily bobbing candles.
Velvet curtains draped the walls, half-hiding rune-scribbled bookcases shrouded in shadows.
Incense smoke curled through the air like fingers dragging across skin.
The floor was thick, dark carpet—soft, plush, muffling his footsteps like it had swallowed screams.
Aiden swallowed hard.
This wasn't a classroom.
This was a den.
He took one cautious step.
Then another.
That's when he heard her voice.
"You smell like fear and virginity. Heavy on both."
It came from a lounge chair, half-shrouded in shadow, curled like a throne near the back of the room.
And then she leaned forward.
A leg slid into view first—pale, long, wrapped in black thigh-high stockings that ended in ritual lace.
Her uniform skirt clung to her hips like it had been tailored for seduction.
Her blouse was slightly unbuttoned, just enough to reveal a glint of silver ink across the top of one breast—a sigil, slowly glowing.
She didn't stand. She didn't need to.
The room bent around her.
"Name?" she asked, not looking up from the book in her lap.
Aiden opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Tried again.
"Uh… Aiden. Kuro. Last rank, Section D."
Her eyes flicked up at him.
And it felt like a leash had just been snapped onto his spine.
Pale violet. Sharp. Cold. Not hateful—judging.
Calculating.
Like she was reading the most pathetic page of a very boring book and deciding whether to crumple it or keep it.
"Of course you are."
She shut her book with one finger. The air pulsed.
"And what, exactly, are you doing in the clubroom of the Virgin Detective Club, Aiden Kuro?"
He stared.
Then said the only thing that came to mind.
"…Running from cum sorcerers?"
There was a pause.
Then—a laugh.
Not loud. Not bright.
Dry.
Wicked.
"At least you're honest."
She rose.
Not quickly. Not dramatically.
Just enough to let her presence stretch.
She walked toward him slowly, her heels clicking like metronome beats, her fingers tracing the spines of books she didn't look at. Her eyes never left his.
"You don't know who I am, do you?"
He shook his head.
"Selene Virell. Third-ranked student in the academy. Lustcraft specialization. Sigil master. Club founder. And the only reason you're not already naked and bound to a hex circle is because I'm bored."
She stopped one step from him.
He didn't step back.
His legs wouldn't move.
"So tell me, last-ranked Aiden Kuro…" she said, lifting her hand.
A rune glowed on her palm. Softly. Just once. Enough to make the air thicken.
"…Do you want to leave?"
His throat dried.
His brain screamed yes.
His lips?
They moved anyway.
"…What happens if I stay?"
Her smile could have melted glass.
"Then you get a chance to survive the curse you already triggered."
"What curse?"
She touched his forehead with her fingertip.
"That one."
His vision pulsed.
And the world—
—split open.