The question hung in the warm schoolyard air, strange and out of place. A moronic question, one that no one in his past world would have even bothered to consider, writing it all off as youthful maximalism and hormones. But here, in this new reality, where absurd dreams had a habit of taking on flesh and blood, Jin was genuinely interested in Issei's answer.
He looked at the guy in front of him, and a whirlwind of thoughts tore through his mind. He saw the whole picture: a pathetic, obsessed schoolboy who, through pain, humiliation, and loss, would eventually scramble to the very top of the world. And all of this—for what? For a harem. This drive to live, to overcome himself, to challenge gods and demons—everything was filtered through a prism of vulgarity. His entire incredible motivation boiled down to this stupid, almost childish desire. What exactly drove this goal? What fuel fed this fire?
"Where does this drive come from?" Jin continued, his voice remaining even, almost academic, but holding a note of genuine interest. "Even with your reputation… Even I, the new guy, can immediately see that almost every girl in this school looks at you guys with disgust." He glanced at Matsuda and Motohama, who winced guiltily. "And, by my humble observation, you are currently as far as possible from your dream. So why?"
He fell silent and waited for an answer, watching Issei intently. He looked surprised at first, bewildered. Always, when he spoke of his dream, he was laughed at, despised, people would tap their temple. But no one had ever asked about it like this. With such seriousness, with such analytical curiosity, as if it weren't a stupid fantasy, but a complex philosophical doctrine.
Catching Jin's serious mood, Issei was faced for the first time with the need to not just declare his dream, but to explain it. He frowned, searching his mind for words, trying to clothe his chaotic, instinctive desires in something coherent.
"Yeah…" he began, his voice uncertain at first, but growing stronger with every word. "Yeah, they look with disgust! Yeah, they call us perverts! And yeah, I get beaten up almost every day just for trying to catch a glimpse of their beautiful forms! But…" he raised his head, and a fire of fanatical conviction lit in his eyes. "But my faith will not waver! Because they don't understand!"
"Don't understand what?" Jin clarified calmly.
"Everything!" Issei blurted out, gesticulating. "Every girl is beautiful! Every single one! You get it? One has a cute smile, another has beautiful hair, a third has slender legs! And every one… every one has breasts!" At this word, his eyes shone reverently. "Big, small, firm, soft—it doesn't matter! Breasts are a symbol! They are the source of life! They are the promise of warmth and tenderness! They are what makes life worth living!"
Matsuda and Motohama, listening to him, nodded reverently, as if taking in the greatest sermon.
"I don't just want to look!" Issei continued, his voice ringing with passion. "I want to know them all! To understand! To protect! I want to create a world where every single one of them is happy! Where they will smile, and laugh, and not be afraid of anything! My harem isn't just a bunch of girls! It's my kingdom! A kingdom where I will be king, and they will be my queens! And I'll do anything to achieve this dream! Even if I have to die!"
He finished his fiery speech and, breathing heavily, held out his fist to Jin. A gesture full of pride, defiance, and unshakable faith in his own righteousness.
Jin's thoughts were different. 'No matter how you look at it, he's an idiot,' it flashed through his mind. 'An impenetrable, clinical idiot.'
However, listening to his words, he understood something important. At the heart of all this nonsense wasn't just lust. It was greed. All-consuming, limitless greed. Issei strove to possess them all. Not just to sleep with, but specifically to possess—their beauty, their smiles, their happiness. And this was despite him being at the very bottom of the social hierarchy. Maybe that's why he became the wielder of a dragon's power? Draconic greed. The desire to obtain all the world's treasures, be it gold or women's hearts.
Irritating.
Jin was irritated by the thought that such a stupid, primitive desire would become the catalyst that would change this guy's life and the entire world. Irritated by the situation itself, which looked so stupid, so childish, as if it were written from the template of a cheap novel. Irritated that he was dragged into this farce. And most of all, irritated that they were similar. Issei was reincarnated as a demon. Jin—into this body. Both of them were beings who had received a second chance in a foreign world. And the realization of this kinship with such an idiot pissed him off to the point of grinding his teeth.
Jin snorted, then smirked. "Hah," his voice held a mix of contempt and a strange, almost perverse admiration. "Well, your resolve is worthy of respect, even if it is channeled into absolute stupidity. Good luck with that, future Harem King."
He lightly, almost carelessly, bumped his fist against Issei's. Meanwhile, Matsuda and Motohama, with shining eyes and tears of emotion, watched the scene as if they were witnessing a historic moment.
On the way back to class, in one of the sunlit corridors, they passed another guy. He was the complete opposite of the "Perverted Trio." Tall, slender, with soft golden hair and kind green eyes. His smile was warm and disarming. He was walking with books in his hands, and several girls passing by giggled shyly and cast admiring glances at him. Kiba Yuuto. The local "Prince Charming."
Issei and his crew, upon seeing him, grimaced in unison, looking at their main rival for female attention with irritation. Kiba, used to this reaction, turned with interest. Glancing at the familiar scene with those three, he noticed the new, fourth student. Jin.
Their gazes met. For a moment, tension hung in the corridor. They looked at each other appraisingly. Two alphas. Two centers of gravity, albeit of completely different kinds.
Yuuto was the first to break the silence. He smiled gently, approached, and offered his hand to Jin. "Hi. You must be Izayoi Jin? I'm Kiba Yuuto. Nice to meet you."
Jin received the same friendly smile and, shaking the offered hand, returned the sentiment. "Likewise."
They both stood, holding each other's hands, smiling pleasantly, creating a picture of a burgeoning friendship that took the breath away from the girls passing by. However, a silent struggle was taking place in their hands.
Initially, Jin had simply returned the handshake, but then, out of pure curiosity, he added a little strength. Just to test. Kiba, intrigued, reciprocated. He was a Knight of the Gremory clan; his physical strength, enhanced by demonic energy, was orders of magnitude higher than a human's. He was confident he could easily crush the arrogant newcomer, showing him his place.
However, at some point, his smile became a bit more strained. He was surprised by the strength of the handshake. Jin was squeezing his hand with strangely immense power for a "normal" person. Kiba increased the pressure, applying not playful, but quite serious demonic power. But Jin's hand was like a steel vise. It didn't yield.
At some point, Kiba began to feel real pressure, which he hadn't expected at all. His knuckles began to ache. Jin's previously friendly face began to change. Although the smile remained on his lips, his eyes were slightly narrowed, and in their violet depths, Kiba saw something else. Not friendliness, but the cold, appraising glint of a predator. The crushing force kept growing until Kiba felt his bones were about to crack.
And then they both, as if on command, chuckled softly, breaking the tension. A moment later, they released their hands.
"It was nice to meet you, Izayoi-san," Kiba said, his smile genuine again, though surprise was evident in his eyes. "See you, Kiba-kun."
After saying goodbye, Jin's group continued on their way to class, leaving Kiba standing alone in the corridor. When they had disappeared around the corner, the smile faded from the prince's face. He raised his hand and looked at it in amazement. It was trembling slightly, almost imperceptibly, from the strain.