The expected scream never came.

No shattered teeth.

No twisted face.

Burns, a second-tier Berserker, possessed terrifying strength. When enraged, this professionally recruited student could punch through an adult Hippola bison. Yet now, his unstoppable iron fist sank completely into a pitch-black mire of magic—and couldn’t pull free.

“How is this possible?” Burns stammered in shock.

“What do you mean, ‘how’?”

Lenna turned her head slowly. Her twin braids hung like vines beside her cheeks, and her round black glasses glinted with eerie light.

“My fist… what did you do to my body?!” Burns roared, panic twisting his voice. He thrashed his arm wildly, even activating *Blood Rage Liberation*—a Berserker’s once-a-day ability. His muscles swelled crimson, bursting through his uniform like a giant forged from rage.

The commotion drew every department. New and old students swarmed the Necromancy admissions booth, packed tight as sardines.

Witch Teacher beamed. She seized the moment, unfurling a banner to advertise.

Burns’ hand remained stubbornly trapped in the black sludge. Only he looked utterly ridiculous, charging for love.

Lenna barely glanced at him. She switched to massaging Angela’s trembling white-stockinged legs with her left hand, fingers drifting like clouds seeking blossoms.

No reaction. She’d made her decision.

Lenna was curious to see how this fallen angel would salvage the situation.

Give up completely?

Shout accusations for bystanders to judge?

Run home crying to big sister for revenge?

*Ha…*

Don’t worry. I’ll claim both sisters. No favorites.

“Everyone, please stop.”

After a brief inner struggle, Angela reassembled her flawless, pure smile. Her dimples deepened, radiating sweetness.

“What just happened… was just a little misunderstanding between Lenna-senpai and me. I’m so, so sorry for worrying everyone…” She pressed her hands together apologetically.

Her angelic face held undeniable charm as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I apologize on behalf of Lenna-senpai. She’s not good with words and acts a bit rashly sometimes. Please forgive her, seniors…”

She flashed the crowd a sugary smile.

Amidst the murmuring crowd, a voice suddenly yelled: “Cupid’s gone full power!”

Laughter erupted. The situation stabilized.

But sharp-eyed onlookers caught the flaw: “Wait… that wasn’t how friends act! Do you have a ‘friend’ you grope in public?!”

Exactly.

Their angel must be blackmailed by this devil!

Someone shouted it out. The fragile peace shattered again.

“…”

Angela’s fingers clenched her skirt. Her helpless eyes pleaded with Lenna for a solution.

Lenna shook her head coolly, her smile deepening. Silent.

“Ugh! You win, you pest!”

Angela stamped her petite boot. Flustered, she parted her pink lips and forced out broken words: “I… everyone… there’s… something important… I need to tell you all…”

Her snow-pale cheeks flushed crimson.

That flustered expression on her breathtaking face made the air smell like sweet cream-filled buns.

*Perfect.*

Lenna tightened her arm around Angela’s slender waist, clinging like mating frogs. She inhaled deeply—the rich fragrance flooding her senses, stirring her soul.

Time stretched like a burning incense stick…

No. Longer.

When Lenna opened her eyes, Angela had slipped from her embrace.

She stepped forward—only to be halted by a firm arm.

“Thought it through?”

Lenna’s arm was as slender and soft as her voice. Resting on Angela’s shoulder like a black swan’s feather, it carried chilling nobility and crushing pressure.

“Some things I can’t do. But others… I can.”

Angela mimicked Lenna’s deep breath. A wave of humiliation surged in her chest, stubborn and sharp.

She was a free canary. She hated cages. Yet Lenna forced her into a gilded prison rigged with traps.

Misery choked her. Where to even begin?

Honestly? She didn’t hate Lenna. Yesterday, walking home, she’d even imagined them as friends.

But Lenna’s actions killed that hope.

*Can devils change?*

Obviously not.

“Lenna-senpai and I…” Angela’s gaze burned ahead, hand pressed to her heart.

“Lenna-senpai is my… mmph—”

Her lips were sealed.

The words died unspoken.

In her widened pupils appeared a stunning girl with unforgettable ash-white hair…

Like storm clouds given form.

***

“Hey, heard the news?”

Lunchtime. Small groups huddled in the academy gardens, swapping gossip.

“The whole campus is talking. Can’t believe Angela’s into *that*. I even went to her concert once.”

“Right? Two girls? Gross.”

“What can two women even *do*? They’d wear each other out. I’d satisfy her better.”

His friend’s nod fueled his arrogance. He launched into a loud monologue, oblivious to the gray shadow behind him.

“Dude, shut up! RUN!”

His companion shot up, face pale, and vanished.

The boy scratched his head. “What’s wrong? Scared the devil’s standing behind me or—”

*Click.*

His neck creaked like rusted gears.

He hadn’t moved. Yet his head turned anyway.

Before him stood Lenna, smiling kindly, and the very angel they’d mocked—pure, gentle Angela.

“Thinking about me?” Lenna adjusted her glasses, her tone unnervingly gentle. “Gossiping isn’t nice… I mean, any other student might forgive your rudeness.”

“What do you want?!” The boy braced himself.

“How unpleasant. Everyone asks that. Do I look scary? Threatening? Besides…” Lenna tilted her head playfully. “…what I want is obvious.”

The silent nun beside her suddenly clung to Lenna’s arm and yelled: “What are you waiting for? RUN!”

As her voice faded, thick black mist erupted from thin air…