An Extra's Rise in an Eroge-Chapter 278: Isabella

"So, we have an agreement," Arthur said, buttoning his uniform jacket.

The dorm room was still a disaster zone, but the atmosphere had shifted from a potential war zone to a strange, tense truce.

Alicia smoothed down her skirt, her face regaining that mask of icy nobility she wore for the public. "An agreement," she confirmed, shooting one last warning look at the floating ball of light that was Sol. "But don’t think this gives you a free pass to do whatever you want, Arthur. I’ll be watching."

"I’m counting on it," Arthur grinned.

Sol, currently in her wisp form to conserve mana, bobbed in the air. "Yeah, yeah. Just don’t freeze the mood next time, Ice Queen."

Alicia ignored the jab, turned on her heel, and walked out. "I’ll see you in class, Arthur. Don’t be late. I hear Professor Isabella is... particularly excited today."

The door clicked shut.

Arthur’s smile faded instantly.

"Isabella," he muttered, the name leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

"The Succubus," Sol’s voice echoed in his head, dripping with disgust. "She sensed the demonic energy from few days ago. A Count-level demon dying? That’s like ringing a dinner bell for her kind."

"She’s not just a Succubus, Sol. She’s a clone of Lilith. If she finds out I have a System that can devour demons... I hope she hasn’t reported the incident to her real body yet. She won’t just fuck me. She’ll dissect me."

Arthur grabbed his bag. "Let’s go. Time to enter the lion’s den."

****

Demonology Class, Sector 4

The air in the lecture hall was heavy. It wasn’t the humidity; it was the pheromones.

Every male student in the room was sweating. Their eyes were glued to the front of the class, tracking every movement of the woman pacing back and forth.

Professor Isabella West.

She was a weapon of mass destruction wrapped in a teacher’s uniform. Her pencil skirt was so tight it looked like it was painted on, struggling to contain the massive curve of her hips and ass. Her white blouse was unbuttoned one too many times at the top, revealing a deep, sweaty cleavage that bounced with every step she took.

"So," Isabella purred, her voice husky and low, vibrating through the room. "I heard you boys had a little... excitement few days ago."

She turned to the whiteboard, lifting her arm to write ’Tier 3 Demons’. The movement pulled her skirt up just an inch, exposing the creamy, soft flesh of her upper thighs.

A collective gulp echoed through the room.

"A Count-level demon," she continued, not looking back. "A nasty piece of work. Far too strong for little students like you."

Clatter.

She "accidentally" dropped the marker.

"Oh my," she whispered.

She didn’t squat. She didn’t ask a student to pick it up.

She bent over.

It was deliberate. It was calculated. It was a show.

As she bent at the waist, her skirt hiked up dangerously high. The fabric strained, outlining the massive, heart-shaped globes of her ass. It was obscene. Through the sheer fabric of her tights, the outline of a thin, black thong was fully visible, disappearing deep between her thick ass cheeks.

"Fuck," the guy next to Arthur whispered, shifting uncomfortably to hide the tentacle growing in his pants.

Arthur didn’t shift. He stared. He had to. Looking away would be suspicious. But his mind was cold.

’She’s testing the waters. Checking for fear.’

Isabella stayed in that position for a good five seconds—long enough for every boy in the front row to get a full view of her pussy outline pressing against the skirt—before she snatched the marker and stood up, flipping her long, dark hair over her shoulder.

She turned around, her violet eyes scanning the room. They weren’t human eyes. They were predator eyes.

They landed on Arthur.

"Mr. Ludwig," she smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. It was the smile of a cat that just found a particularly interesting mouse.

"Yes, Professor?" Arthur leaned back in his chair, meeting her gaze head-on.

"I heard you were the MVP," she said, walking slowly down the aisle. Her heels clicked rhythmically against the floor. Click. Click. Click.

She stopped right in front of his desk. The scent of vanilla and raw lust hit him like a physical blow. She leaned forward, placing both hands on his desk, bringing her face inches from his.

Her tits were practically serving themselves on a platter right in front of his nose. He could see a mole on her left breast, just above the lace of her bra.

"Tell me, Arthur," she whispered, her voice dropping so only he (and the jealous students nearby) could hear. "How does a Second-Year student... kill a demon that requires a full squad of Knights?"

"I had help," Arthur said smoothly, not breaking eye contact. "And I got lucky."

"Luck?" Isabella laughed softly. She reached out, her finger tracing the line of his jaw. Her nail was sharp. "Demons don’t die to luck, darling. They die to power."

She moved her hand down, resting it on his shoulder, her thumb brushing against his neck. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

"I could smell it on you," she murmured, her pupils dilating. "The stench of death. And something else... something ancient."

Arthur’s heart hammered against his ribs, but he kept his face bored. "Maybe you’re smelling my cologne, Professor. Or the fact that I haven’t had time to do my laundry since the fight."

Isabella chuckled, the sound vibrating in her chest. She pushed herself off his desk, but not before deliberately brushing her hip against his arm.

"Perhaps," she said, turning her back to him. She walked back to the podium, her hips swaying with exaggerated motion. Every step sent a ripple through her ass cheeks that mesmerized the class.

"See me after class, Mr. Ludwig," she called out, winking at him over her shoulder. "I think you need... remedial lessons. On anatomy."

The class erupted into whispers. Jealousy. Lust. Confusion.

Arthur just sighed, rubbing his temples.

"System," he subvocalized.

"I’m here," Sol replied, her voice tight. "She knows something. Her mana was probing you the entire time."

"I know," Arthur thought back, watching Isabella erase the board, her tits bouncing with the motion. "She wants to know if I’m a threat... or a meal."

"Which one is it?"

Arthur smirked, his eyes darkening.

"Both. But she’s going to choke on this meal."