He acted on pure instinct, forgetting the weak act entirely.
Dexter didn't run. He just moved. It wasn't some fancy magic trick or a cursed ability; it was pure, refined speed—an innate, ancestral trait he'd sharpened far beyond what was naturally possible. One second, he was by the wreckage, frowning.
The next, he was right behind Yuki, breaching her space as if the laws of her ability didn't apply to him.
A solid, warm hand clasped her waist.
The other hand was gentle. Too gentle.
His thumb traced the skin beneath her eye, a shocking caress. Then he just snatched her, spinning them into a dizzy blur.
Concentration? Gone. Ripped away by the sudden, intimate contact.
The massive Ice Wall she'd been building died. It didn't just collapse, it imploded, all that concentrated power turning to a stinging mist that did nothing to cool the sudden heat of his body pressed against hers.
"Queens don't need to put in effort on things of no importance or value of their time," Dexter murmured, his voice a low against her ear.
It was a statement of fact, merely devoid of fear.
He looked directly past her, his gaze locking onto Serana with a silent, mocking challenge. 'There's the jab. Focus on me now, Red. I just proved your little Queen is insignificant, and so are you.'
Yuki completely froze. The effortless way he'd bypassed her defenses—the sheer speed of the move—was a total violation. Her pride didn't like his intimate, uninvited touch, but her body felt strangely locked down, unable to fight.
'How was he that fast? I saw him walking towards me, then he was just... here. Was S+ actually right about him not being normal?'
In that fraction of a second, Dexter executed his move. It was barely a touch, just enough to sink his technique in. He wasn't after a large consumption, just the tiniest taste of her raw Pride Essence—enough to dial down her volatility. He quickly filtered the negative energy, savoring the subtle taste, and tucked it away for later refinement.
Yuki felt an immediate, strange sense of calmness. The suffocating, blinding weight of her arrogance—the very fuel of her curse—receded just enough to break the fighting madness. It was an unexpected, faint euphoric relief. Her tense, raised shoulders slumped just a millimeter. For a confused moment, she found herself gazing up at him, momentarily smitten.
'Ah, perfect,' Dexter thought, a genuine, private hint of cold, sinister satisfaction crossing his features before he smoothly masked it with a charming smile. 'A controlled dose. Just enough to hint at the addiction. The process of psychological dependence is beginning. Now, who's the clown, test subject?'
Serana, seeing the entire impossible sequence, felt her boiling rage instantly refocus entirely on Dexter. She didn't care that Yuki had calmed down; she cared that the supposedly defenseless Professor was a liar and a threat.
"Hey! Did you guys seriously not see that?!" Serana screamed, her throat raw, pointing a shaking finger at Dexter.
Her skin was electric, buzzing with the lingering heat of it. "He moved like a goddamn phantom!" Her eyes were wide, desperate for agreement. "He's not just some weak little nobody! He pulled a stunt that was completely out of line, damnit!"
Dexter's head tilted, the movement slow and deliberate, a smirk curling his lips as he finally looked toward Serana. He didn't just let go of Yuki's face.
The message was clear: I own this moment, and her.
"Aw, Serana. Are you jealous? Is it because you're not the center of attraction right now?"
That jab hit Serana square in the ego. "I'm not jealous, you damn idiot! I'm trying to tell everyone you're a goddamn liar!"
Her peers were completely ignoring her.
"He... he just calmed her down," Yue whispered, her devotion deepening, eyes wide with awe.
"I wish he'd manhandle me like that and squeeze on my boobs while he's at it~♡ " Belladonna sighed, fanning herself dramatically, her eyes already glazing over with lust.
Heat crept onto Serana's face, a sudden, furious blush.
'Were some of them actually this stupid? They should have been on high alert, but these two are staring wide-eyed at the pathetic, manufactured bullshit of a professor!'
Lyneth, however, narrowed her hazel eyes, her fingers twitching. 'It's a method. I need to figure it out. How did he bypass her field?'
Yuki recovered from the confusing, brief feeling of attraction. Her ingrained pride snapped back, instantly horrified by the intimacy. She couldn't stand being manhandled, especially by a supposed clown.
She drove her palms against his chest, shoving him back with a sudden, vicious jerk. She stumbled two steps away, her back arching.
Her ears were fire, the heat an immediate betrayal she couldn't hide. "Don't touch me, Clown," she hissed, forcing her voice back into that cold, sharp weapon. "You should be lucky I'm feeling generous today. Get back to your filthy corner."
Dexter simply straightened his suit jacket, the perfect, unruffled gentleman again. The weak, fumbling professor mask snapped back into place. He took a single, exaggerated breath, smoothing down a non-existent wrinkle.
"Alright, ladies, settle down," Dexter drawled. That familiar, mildly bored tone slid back into his voice, the one that meant he was done listening.
Serana was still shouting something, all high-pitched and breathless, but he didn't even shift his gaze. She just sounded like a screaming kid throwing a tantrum now. He had bigger things to worry about than her wounded pride.
"Let's all remember that we can't use our abilities to the point of an eye glow," he paused, glancing pointedly at Serana and Yuki, "as it would trigger a speed in your curse that eats away at your humanity, you'd turn into a blob of flesh... before y'know... KABOOM!"
He shrugged, gesturing loosely around the demolished room. "It's all stated right here in the files handed to me by management, nothing I made up, honest. I'm just looking out for you, don't want any of my pretty subj—students to DIE." He finished the sentence with an insincere, too-wide smile.
'Can't have my personal research assets getting blown up. That would be a huge inconvenience.'
He looked around the room, sighing dramatically at the destruction. "Well, look at this mess. The Warden is going to have a fit." Dexter shook his head, running a hand through his hair unnecessarily. "I'm sure he'll be here any second to... clean up my pathetic attempt at teaching."
As if summoned by the sheer power of his complaint, a cold, heavy pressure dropped over the room.
A figure, tall and imposing, appeared instantly near the door.
Forget the heavy steel Dexter half-expected.
This guy wore dark, oiled leather and practical cloth—pure killing gear. He looked like the kind of master mage or adventurer who wouldn't waste time on a flashy fight. It wasn't just authority; it slammed one with raw, instantaneous power. The cowl was pulled deep, just a hungry shadow where his face should've been.
The infamous Warden.