Academy's Pervert in the D Class - Chapter 260
Chapter 260: arrived
It was evening by the time they arrived, the sun already painting the streets with long orange shadows that stretched like lazy fingers across the cobblestones.
Lor followed her through the winding paths, his boots scuffing softly against the ground, the air cooling with the promise of night.
Eva’s house was larger than he expected, well-kept but not ostentatious—a sturdy two-story affair with flower boxes in the windows and the faint scent of varnished wood clinging to the walls from the family business in carpentry.
She led him upstairs, her hips swaying a little too naturally in those charcoal-gray skirt that hugged her curves, each step drawing his eyes despite his best efforts.
In her sitting room, they shared tea—black, fragrant with hints of bergamot, poured into delicate cups that steamed between them on a low table polished to a shine.
Small pastries sat untouched on a plate, their flaky surfaces dusted with sugar, but Eva’s focus never left Lor, her gaze intense and unwavering.
“I’ll admit this is selfish,” she said, her tone softening as she stirred her cup without drinking, the spoon clinking gently against the porcelain.
“But… what if you teach me now, and I pass it on to Olivia, Mira, Viora, Nellie later today at night? That way, you won’t be so drained. It’ll lighten your burden.” She looked up at him then, her green eyes wide and sincere, vulnerability peeking through her usual confidence.
Lor blinked at her, genuinely surprised—he hadn’t expected that kind of thoughtfulness.
He set his cup down with a soft clink, leaned back in the cushioned chair, arms crossed over his chest as he considered her.
“…But distributing the Guiding Light’s wisdom is prohibited,” he said solemnly, his voice dropping into that grave timbre he used for the act.
“It might anger the Light if you share what it gives.” Internally, he chuckled at the absurdity, but he kept his face straight.
Eva’s brow furrowed, frustration flickering across her features like a shadow.
“Lor. I’m trying to help you.” She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, her blouse gaping just enough to offer a teasing glimpse of cleavage as her eyes locked onto his with earnest intensity.
“I see how exhausted you get. Everyone’s asking, tugging, demanding. You help all of us, but who helps you? Let me do this. Please.”
Her voice cracked just faintly on the last word, a subtle break that tugged at something deep in Lor’s chest—guilt mixed with a warm rush of affection.
Lor hesitated, scratching his chin thoughtfully, letting the moment build.
He closed his eyes, exhaled heavily through his nose, and let his features tighten into mock irritation—the kind of expression he always wore when acting as the vessel, furrowed brows and a distant stare.
He tilted his head slightly, as if listening to some ethereal voice whispering in his ear.
His lips moved silently, his breath stilled, and the air in the room seemed to thicken with the performance, the only sound the faint tick of a clock on the wall.
When he opened his eyes again, he met her gaze with feigned solemnity, his voice dipping lower, weightier.
“The Light has… agreed,” he said, drawing out the words for effect.
Eva straightened, surprise flashing across her face, her bow shifting with the motion. “Really?”
“Yes. But…” He let his voice trail off, dipping even lower, adding a layer of mystery. “…the ritual will require more from you this time.”
His heart pounded a little faster, anticipation building as he watched her reaction.
Eva’s fingers tightened around her teacup, knuckles whitening slightly.
She stared down at the steaming liquid for a long moment, her bangs shadowing her eyes, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.
Then she lifted her head again, determination set into her features like carved marble—jaw firm, eyes steady.
“I don’t care what it takes,” she said firmly, her voice unwavering despite the faint flush creeping up her neck. “I trust you.”
Lor’s throat tightened at the way she said it, so steady, so absolute—it hit him harder than expected, a mix of arousal and something softer stirring in his chest.
He swallowed, gave her a slow nod, his smirk hidden behind a mask of seriousness.
“Then…” He rose from his seat, brushing invisible dust from his shirt with casual sweeps, his pulse quickening despite himself.
“Shall we perform the ritual?”
Eva stood too, her bow trembling faintly with the movement as she smoothed her skirt.
Her cheeks colored, just a little—a soft pink that made her look even more alluring—but her eyes didn’t waver, holding his with quiet resolve.
She nodded once, sharply, decisively.
“This way.”
She led him down the hall, past doors with polished brass handles that gleamed in the dim evening light filtering through windows, until she stopped before one.
She pushed it open with a soft creak to reveal her room—neat, tidy, the bed made with military precision, crisp white sheets tucked in without a wrinkle, the shelves lined with meticulously organized notes and books on spell theory.
A faint, floral scent hung in the air, like lavender from a sachet hidden somewhere, mingling with the warmth of the space.
Lor stepped inside, his eyes sweeping the room, taking in the personal touches—a framed photo on the desk, a stuffed animal tucked in the corner of the bed—and felt his pulse quicken further, a heady mix of excitement and nerves buzzing under his skin.
Eva closed the door behind them with a soft click, the sound echoing like a finality in the quiet room.
.
.
The coin spun between their bodies, a glimmer of silver catching the candlelight as it hovered above the wooden floorboards.
The air was thick with Eva’s nervous breath and Lor’s feigned divinity.
His eyes glowed pale, glassy white, pupils swallowed whole by the act of channeling the “Guiding Light.”
He let his voice stretch into that otherworldly register he’d perfected, low and sonorous, vibrating in his chest as though something far greater spoke through him.
“What guidance do you seek, child?” he intoned, letting each word fall heavy, ancient, like stone tablets dropping into the silence.
Eva sat opposite him on the floor, her skirt pulled tight across her thighs as she shifted restlessly, the fabric whispering against her skin.
She clasped her hands in her lap, shoulders rigid, green eyes flickering between the floating coin and Lor’s face.
Her lips parted hesitantly, her voice low but steady enough to betray real need.
“I… I want to do well tomorrow,” she said, her words tumbling out in a rush once she started.
“The tournament. The academics portion. Spell theory and mathematics. I—” She broke off, swallowing hard, as though confessing failure tasted bitter. “I want to do better than ever. I need the Light’s help.”
The coin wavered, then dropped, clinking faintly against the wooden floorboards.
Lor’s eyelids fluttered shut as he slumped forward like a puppet with its strings cut.
He made sure his chest heaved visibly, sweat pricking his brow as though the effort of channeling had drained him to the bone.
He held his breath for three beats, then exhaled harshly, snapping his eyes open again.
The glow dimmed to nothing, hazel irises returning as if the “Light” had retreated from him.
He sat there a moment longer, letting the silence build between them.
Then, with perfect timing, he rasped:
“The Light… has spoken.”
Eva leaned forward, breath catching audibly. Hope glimmered in her eyes, wide and childlike in their eagerness.
“What must I do?”
Lor rubbed his temple with two fingers, grimacing as though reluctant to speak the words aloud.
He let them spill slowly, dragging out her anticipation.
“The Light demands…” He hesitated, jaw tightening, before blurting with manufactured disbelief.
“The Light demands that… I make love to you until satisfied. With… with your sex toys.”
The words landed like a thunderclap in the little room.
Eva jerked back as though struck, her face flooding crimson from collarbone to cheeks.
Her lips worked silently, her hands curling into fists against her knees.
“What the fuck—” she breathed, voice trembling, green eyes wide with mortification.
Lor slapped a hand over his own mouth, shaking his head violently, feigning panic.
“I… I don’t know why it said that!” His tone was the perfect mix of shock and denial.
“That’s absurd. Insane. Why would—” He let his voice trail into stammering, shoulders hunched as if the revelation embarrassed him as much as her.
Inside, though, his pulse was racing for a very different reason.
Because Eva hadn’t denied it.
Not outright.
Her cheeks burned hotter, her chest rising and falling too quickly, and though anger simmered in her eyes, shame ran deeper, stronger.
She tried to glare at him, but her gaze kept darting away, down to the coin on the floor, down to her own lap, anywhere but his face.
Lor bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smirking.
He shook his head again, louder this time, as though arguing with some invisible voice.
“Maybe the Light’s angry,” he said quickly, spinning the words with perfect desperation. “Maybe it doesn’t want you to share the secrets freely. That’s the only explanation, right? It’s lashing out. Because—because you don’t actually have toys. Do you, Eva?”