CHAPTER 31: LET A SCUMBAG COOK

I woke up to a weight on my chest and the soft caress of morning light filtering through my curtains. Opening one eye, I was greeted by a cascade of purple hair splayed across my shoulder like spilled wine. Natalia Kuzmina, New Vein Academy’s ice princess herself, was curled against me like a contented cat, one leg hooked possessively over mine, her arm draped across my stomach.

Her face was tucked into the crook of my neck, and each exhale ghosted warm against my skin. Every few breaths, she’d make this little noise—a soft "mmm" that vibrated through her body into mine. My right hand rested where it had been most of the night: cupped around the full curve of her ass, fingers spread in a gesture of ownership that felt bizarrely natural, the smooth fabric of her skirt still bunched around her waist.

What a fucking picture we made. The proud, perfect Natalia and the formerly fat, formerly pathetic Satori. If someone had told me a month ago that I’d wake up with Natalia Kuzmina sleeping on my chest after I’d made her come twice with my mouth, I’d have laughed in their face then punched them for the cruel joke.

Then again, a month ago I wasn’t Kaelen Leone. I was just Satori Nakano, the family embarrassment, the worthless Zero everyone loved to hate.

"How the mighty have fallen," I whispered, voice barely audible in the quiet morning air. My fingers tightened slightly on her ass, testing the firm flesh beneath my palm, and she responded by nuzzling closer in her sleep, making a small sound of contentment that sent a rush of satisfaction through me.

I felt a familiar pressure building against my thigh. Even through my sweatpants, my morning wood was making itself known—a hard ridge pressing against her soft thigh, practically throbbing with urgency. I sighed, looking down at the problem with a mixture of pride and annoyance.

"Eight inches of rock-hard inconvenience," I muttered, shifting slightly to ease the pressure. "The sacrifices I make for this mission. Strategy over instant gratification."

I could wake her up. Take things further. Finish what we’d started last night with her spread across my bed, begging for me. But that would be rushing things. Last night was about breaking her defenses, making her vulnerable, cracking that icy exterior. Today was about cementing that vulnerability, not pushing her back into her shell with post-coital regret.

Besides, I needed to check in with my demonic taskmaster before making my next move.

"Nel, you can come online now."

The familiar blue text box materialized in my vision, floating just at the edge of my peripheral view.

[System online. Good morning, Host. Primary Quest progress has been updated to: 85%. Congratulations on a... successful night. You have been awarded +100 SP for achieving a critical milestone. Total SP: 185.]

A hundred points? That was substantial, far more than I’d expected. Clearly, the System—or should I say, the gods watching through Nel—had enjoyed last night’s performance. The thought of cosmic entities watching me eat out my step-sister should have been disturbing, but in my previous life, I’d performed for far worse audiences. Before I could respond, the text changed.

[One of our divine sponsors for the Apollo broadcast has a query. They ask: "Why did you not fully claim the mortal female when she was so clearly pliant?"]

I rolled my eyes, suppressing a snort that might wake Natalia. "Tell your sponsor they’re an idiot who doesn’t understand the art of corruption," I replied mentally, careful to keep my thoughts focused. "This isn’t a one-night conquest; it’s a long-term hostile takeover. If I’d fucked her, the spell would be broken. She would have woken up full of regret and fury, building her walls back twice as high. This way... she wakes up wanting more. She wakes up confused and craving." I smirked, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest against mine.

"Let me cook. I know what I’m doing."

[The sponsor acknowledges your expertise in the field of corruption, though they wish to express that the viewers were quite enthusiastic about the potential for a more... conclusive scene. The ratings peaked during your oral performance.]

"Tell them to be patient. Good things come to those who wait." I glanced down at Natalia’s sleeping form, her normally sharp features softened in slumber, vulnerable in a way she’d never allow if conscious. "And the best things come twice, as we’ve already established."

A new notification flashed, this one in the garish gold of Apollo’s Emporium. The smirking, pixelated face of the god appeared, animated with an insufferable wink.

[APOLLO’S GACHA EMPORIUM PRESENTS: A NEW PLAYER RATE-UP BANNER! For a limited time, a special 3-card pull is available. Guaranteed ONE Gold-tier or higher reward! A perfect boost for an up-and-coming star! COST: 150 SP.]

My eyes narrowed suspiciously. I had 185 SP. I could make the pull and still have 35 left over. It was a huge investment, practically my entire savings, but a guaranteed Gold-tier item or skill could be a game-changer for the upcoming exams. In this world, power was everything, and I needed every advantage I could get.

"What’s the catch?" I asked Nel silently. "There’s always a catch with you cosmic bastards. Nothing comes free, especially not from a god of trickery."

[No catch, Host. Just divine generosity toward a promising performer. The Audience has been... entertained by your progress. Consider it an investment in future entertainment.]

Right. And I was born yesterday, fresh-faced and innocent. Even in my old world, I knew better than to trust a smiling dealer.

Natalia stirred against me, her grip tightening on my shirt. Her leg shifted, sliding dangerously close to my morning situation, her thigh brushing against it with unconscious intimacy. I froze, holding my breath, waiting to see if she’d wake up and shatter the moment.

She didn’t. Instead, she mumbled something incoherent—something that sounded suspiciously like my name—and settled back into sleep, her body somehow pressing even closer to mine, seeking warmth and connection even in unconsciousness.

I stared at the ceiling, weighing my options, absently tracing small circles on her hip with my thumb. The entrance exam was less than a month away. My current abilities were decent, but nothing spectacular. A Gold-tier reward could be the difference between barely passing and excelling, between surviving and thriving.

On the other hand, Schema Points weren’t easy to come by, and spending most of my stash on one pull was risky. What if I got garbage?

Risk versus reward. The eternal calculus of the hustler, the gambler, the survivor.

"Fine," I decided, mentally bracing myself for disappointment. "Let’s do it. Activate the banner pull. But if I just get one gold, I’m going to be very disappointed in your divine showmanship."

[Pull confirmed. Initiating 3-card draw. Good luck, Host. May the Fates smile upon your performance.]