The cheap, fluorescent light of his studio apartment hummed a dull tune, but to Michael Grandevore, it was the sound of a throne room. He lay on his thin mattress, not seeing the water-stained ceiling, but the glorious, pink-tinted interface of the Lust System floating before his eyes.
[ Total Lust Points: 1,550 ]
A slow, satisfied smile spread across his face. The past few weeks had been… productive. Every secret meeting, every whispered command, every touch that made Cindy shudder with forced pleasure had filled his coffers. He was no longer just a participant in this twisted game; he was its master, amassing power in the shadows.
His eyes scanned the system shop, moving past the cheap, mischievous skills and into a new, gleaming section that had unlocked with his points: Traits.
There they were. Not the flashy, elemental powers of the S-class, but something far more insidious and, for his purposes, perfect.
[ Trait: 'Nullifier' - Creates a small, passive nullification field around the user. Weakens or disables low-to-mid tier traits and magical effects on contact. Cost: 1,200 LP. ]
Perfect, Michael thought, his mind immediately flying to Kaito. The brute's physical enhancement trait would be useless if he couldn't even muster the strength to throw a punch. This wasn't about winning a fair fight; it was about humiliating him completely.
But his revenge was only one part of the plan. The school had made an announcement that sent a ripple through both the elite and the dregs.
In three months, they would open a temporary Pocket Dimension for a training expedition.
It was a rare opportunity. These dimensions were filled with dangers, but also with rare artifacts and materials that could, in the hands of a lucky or cunning individual, rival the innate power of an S-class trait.
Of course, the F-class students were permitted to enter. The school administration called it a "meritocratic opportunity to change one's destiny." Everyone else knew it was a designated hunting ground where the strong could bully the weak without any consequences.
Let them think that, Michael mused. They'll be looking for a punching bag. They won't be looking for a predator.
His plan was simple. He would buy the Nullifier trait. Then, in the chaos of the Pocket Dimension, he would find his moment. He would strip Kaito of his power and break him in front of everyone. The artifact he might find would just be a bonus.
But as he thought of the expedition, another, more thrilling thought emerged. The Pocket Dimension wouldn't just have Kaito. It would be filled with other female students from various classes—arrogant S-class mages, nimble A-class scouts, all looking down on the F-class. All potential new recruits.
A shiver of addictive anticipation ran through him. The feeling of absolute control over Cindy, of watching her will erode day by day, replaced by a programmed obedience… it was a high more potent than any trait. He was addicted to the sensation of conquest.
Speaking of Cindy, the system provided a status update.
[ Slave Harem - Member #1: Cindy Vance ]
[ Submission Progress: 41% ]
[ Status: Conditioned. Displays increased anxiety around Kaito. Complies with all master's commands without public hesitation. ]
A dark chuckle escaped Michael's lips. Kaito was still strutting around school, his arm possessively around Cindy's waist, completely oblivious that his girlfriend's body and increasingly her mind, belonged to the boy he called "monster bait."
Every time Cindy flinched at Kaito's touch or her eyes unconsciously sought Michael's in a crowd, his victory felt sweeter.
He was going to break Kaito, not just physically, but utterly. He would take everything from him. And while he was at it, he'd fill those empty slots in his Slave Harem interface.
With a mental command, Michael purchased the Nullifier trait.
A cool, invisible energy washed over him, settling into his skin like a second layer. He felt different.
He looked at the empty, waiting slots in his Harem menu, then back at his remaining points.
The hunt was about to begin, and the Pocket Dimension would be his perfect hunting ground.
The F-class homeroom was, as always, a masterclass in subdued despair. Michael Grandevore sat at the back, his eyes not glued to the floor like the others, but actively scanning.
His gaze drifted to the front of the class, to the one person who was supposed to be their leader: the class president, Rose Ivy.
She was, by all accounts, painfully beautiful in a gentle, natural way. Her hair was the color of fresh spring leaves, falling in soft waves around a face with kind, doe-like eyes. But those eyes were always downcast, filled with a constant, anxious worry.
Her body, hidden under the standard uniform, hinted at generous curves—a full chest and hips that promised a womanly figure, a stark contrast to her girlish, timid demeanor.
Her trait was a public joke: [Floral Bloom]. She could make a flower bud open. That was it. In a world of dungeon crawlers and monster slayers, it was the equivalent of being a living, breathing vase.
As Michael watched, a paper ball flew from the side and hit Rose on the head. She flinched, hugging her clipboard tighter to her chest, but didn't turn around or protest. She just tried to make herself smaller.
Pathetic, Michael thought, but the thought wasn't dismissive. It was analytical.
He understood her. In a place like this, survival was the only priority. Standing up for others was a surefire way to become the next target. Rose's cowardice wasn't noble, but it was rational. She was just better at playing the helpless victim than he used to be.
But now, he saw potential where others saw weakness.
A peace-loving coward with a useless trait and a body made for sin, he mused, a plan beginning to crystallize in his manipulative mind.
He knew someone like Rose, who had known nothing but powerlessness, would have a deep, hidden craving for strength. A desire so potent she would be willing to do anything for it. He just had to dangle the right carrot.
A quick mental command brought up the Lust System shop. He scrolled past the offensive skills until he found a specific, insidious category: Empowerment Boons.
[ Skill: 'Blooming Ascension' - Allows the user to gradually upgrade a target's trait through a series of... intimate energy transfers. ]
[ Effect: Can raise a trait from E-Rank to D-Rank, then C, B, A, and potentially S. Progress is locked behind successful 'bonding' sessions. ]
[ Cost: 800 LP ]
A cruel smile touched Michael's lips. It was expensive, but the investment was worth it. He wasn't just buying a skill; he was buying a slave with S-class potential.
He imagined it: the meek, flower-loving Rose, her pathetic [Floral Bloom] evolving under his "tutelage." What would it become? [Control Over Flora]? [Chlorokinetic Combat]? The possibilities were endless. And with each new level of power she achieved, she would owe it all to him.
The intimacy wouldn't just be for pleasure; it would be the very fuel of her ascent, a constant reminder of her debt and his control.
She would never refuse an offer of power. Why would she? He would be her benefactor, her only path to respect and safety. She would walk into his web willingly, gratefully even.
He purchased the skill, feeling the knowledge of it settle into his mind.
When the bell rang, Michael moved. He intercepted Rose as she was hurriedly trying to leave the room, her head low.
"Rose," he said, his voice calm and neutral.
She jumped, clutching her books to her chest like a shield. "M-Michael? What is it?" she stammered, her eyes wide with confusion and a hint of fear. He was part of the background noise of F-class; no one ever sought her out.
"I've been thinking," he began, offering a harmless, sympathetic smile. "It must be hard, being class president with everyone looking down on us. Don't you ever get tired of being afraid?"
Rose's gaze dropped to the floor. "I... I don't know what you mean."
"I think you do," Michael said, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "What if I told you that your trait... your [Floral Bloom]... isn't useless? What if it's just dormant? What if it could be so much more?"
Her head snapped up, genuine shock in her green eyes. "What? How? That's impossible."
"Let's just say I've come across some... unique knowledge," Michael said, his smile turning just a fraction darker, though she was too naive to see it. "Knowledge on how to awaken true potential. I think I can help you, Rose. I can make you strong. Strong enough that no one from S-class would ever dare to look at you the wrong way again."
He saw it—the flicker of desperate, hungry hope in her eyes. It was the look of a drowning person seeing a rope.
"You... you can?" she breathed, her voice barely a whisper.
"I can," Michael stated, his voice full of a confidence that brooked no argument. "But the method is... unconventional. It requires complete trust. Think about it. No one else has to know."