The shadow energy stops at a red door, the velvet words of "Dean Yu" hanging on the wall next to the entrance. Islyl enters the deals office, approaching him and kneeling at his feet, looking up at him with a mixture of adoration and fear.
"Master," Islyl says, his voice trembling slightly. "I am here to serve you, as commanded."
Dean Yu looks down at Islyl with a cold, calculating gaze. He reaches out and runs his fingers through Islyl's hair, a gesture both possessive and affectionate.
"Good," Dean Yu says, his voice low and smooth. "You're right on time. I have a task for you." The deans' miles, a hint of cruelty in his eyes. He continues to stroke Islyl's hair, his touch cold and firm. The dean leans forward in his chair, his face inches from Islyl's. he reaches out and cups his chin, forcing Islyl to look up at him.
"You will attend this academy, and live a 'normal' life. Your mission is to find students who are weak and easily manipulated. I need you to befriend them and influence them to be my pawns. Do not get too attached to these humans, remember they are tools to be used and that's it."
Islyl nods, his eyes fixed on the dean. With a sharp slice of a dagger, a wound was opened on his shoulder, breaking the skin and drawing blood. The dean uses his shadow essence to enter the would, extracting blood. The sensation is both painful and pleasurable, a strange mix of sensations that the original Islyl had come to crave, shuddering with the sudden rush of adrenaline. He can feel the dean's essence digging into the flesh. The dean's face is flushed with pleasure, hands gripping Islyl steadily.
Islyl's eyes glaze over, his body trembling. He looks like a puppet; his strings being pulled by the deans will.
As the dean drinks Islyl's blood, the magic power from his blood flows into the dean's body. It courses through his veins, filling him with a sense of power and energy. The dean's eyes snap open, glowing with an otherworldly red light.
Once fully satiated, he pulls back his blood from Islyl's neck, a satisfied smile on his face.
Islyl feels weak and drained, his body trembling from the loss of blood. He felt his power leave him, and enter the dean, strengthening him, it's like I was milked.
I look up at the dean with a mixture of fear and submission. It feels empty, as if a part of me was taken away.
He knows that his is a dangerous mission, putting extra effort into appearing like the perfect spy toy. I'm determined to conduct this plot to the best of my ability. I have the memories of being trained for this, anyhow!
Sigma: Host is truly a lost cause
"Yes, Master" I replied to the dean, "I will do as you command. I will perform bonds with the students and use them to achieve your goals. I will make no mistakes, and if I do, I will not hesitate to take my own life, Master."
The dean chuckles, a cold mirthless sound. He rubs Islyl's shoulders, squeezing his cheeks.
"That's why you need to be careful, my pet. You need to be charming and charismatic, but not too much so, just make them trust you."
The dean plays with Islyl's fingers on his lap, rubbing the knuckles in circles.
"Very good, you may go to the dorms. It would be better to stop by the orientation party first, and meet your targets. Update me in a week. You know what will happen if you fail, hm?"
Islyl shivers, bowing his head and rising to his feet, his mind racing with the information he was given. He turns to leave the office, but the deans voice stops him.
"Do not let anyone find out about your true allegiance. If they do, it will be the end of you. Understand?"
Islyl nods in affirmation, more chills running down his spine. He knows the dean is right. If he is discovered, he would be killed. He must be careful.
"Yes master," Islyl responds, his voice barely above a whisper. "I understand, I will not fail you."
With that, Islyl turns and leaves the office, his heart pounding in his chest. This mission is so dangerous! But I don't have a choice if I want to follow the plot, tsk.
***
On the way out, Islyl couldn't help but feel chills. The hall that the dean's office is in is long and dark, with lofty ceilings and dimly lit corridors. The walls are lined with old portraits and tapestries, the floor made of polished marble.
The marble floor is cold and hard beneath his feat, the sound of his footsteps reverberating loudly in the silence.
'Good job host, you did well. You didn't act out of character at all.' Sigma pops back up
'Even if you were simply scared and acted like a puppet because you're a punk, its okay! As long as we pass, Hehe.'
"Can you please just shut the hell up?" Islyl retorts, tired of the useless system.
'Did you know that shut doesn't go up?' Sigma responded.
"….."
"Please leave."
Silence, and the system was gone.
I sigh in relief, my head finally peaceful and away from chatter. I want to think to myself, without that useless spectator.
*Sigma: I can still hear you. T.T
-
As Islyl walks back into the party, everyone is just getting ready to call it a night. Islyl slipped back into his spot, getting up once everyone got up to leave. His performance was seamless, his absence disregarded. He's good with being in the background.
The blonde boy who got caught sleeping in class spotted Islyl in the moving students. His black hair was beautiful, and his face even more so. Two handsome people must be friends! Liam walks up to Islyl and flashes him a charming smile, dimple, and all.
"Hey there," he says, his voice confident. "I'm Liam, and you?"
Islyl hesitates for a moment, unsure of how to respond to Liam. But he decides to play it safe. Can't piss off the main character!
"Islyl," he says simply, keeping his voice steady. "Nice to meet, you, Liam."
Liam nods, his eyes flickering to the bite mark on Islyl's neck. That mark is brand new, and the ones from when he found him should be bandaged and recovering.
"That's a… unique mark you've got there," he says, his tone casual but sharp. "How did you get it?
Islyl shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant.
'System, system, wtf! The damn zombie dean ate me alive T.T
Clearing his throat, he says to Liam, "Oh this? Its nothing. It's a small wound from practice."
Liam raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying Islyl's excuse. He steps closer, his eyes narrowing as he studies the bite mark more closely.
"Well, it's pretty easy to tell the difference between a fresh bite mark and an old one," he says. "Fresh bites are usually darker and more swollen, and they bleed more. Old bites are lighter and less swollen." Liam steps closer, their chests touching. "Can you guess what your bite mark looks like?" Liam sighs, his breath tickling the top of Islyl's head.
The bite mark on Islyl's shoulder blade was clear to see, as it was right there where the shirt shows skin. it was fresh and bleeding, the blood on his collar still wet. The marks are jagged and uneven, the teeth marks puncturing deeply where the dean had bit into him. The surrounding skin is red and inflamed, the mark itself swollen and tender. It looks painful and disturbing.
Islyl's voice is sharp and defensive as he responds to Liam's probing questions.
"Mind your own business, Liam," he says, his eyes flashing with irritation. "I don't need you to care about my personal life."
Liam holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender, a smirk playing on his lips. "Hey, I was just curious," he says. "No need to get all defensive, I was just concerned." Liam shrugs, still smirking. "I guess you're right. I'm just trying to be friendly, and its not my business. I won't pry anymore."
Islyl looks at Liam with a mixture of annoyance and resignation.
"Look, Liam," he says, his voice firm. "I appreciate your concern, but I don't think we'll be good friends."
With that, Islyl turns and walks away, leaving Liam standing and looking slightly hurt and mostly amused.
Liam watches Islyl walk away, a sly smile on his face. He knows that he's probably pissed off, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at getting under his skin. As he turns to leave himself, he mutters under his breath. "Oh well, have more fun for me." Liam walked away, his smirk still on his face as he blends with the group of departing students.
***
The students walk into the dorm rooms, most of them have already set their stuff in the rooms. Islyl had done this too, but he had just left the infirmary and only had thirty minutes to run to class. Liam walks into the room, carrying his luggage and looking around. Islyl's eyes widen in surprise as he sees Liam standing there.
"Wait. YOU'RE my roommate?" Liam says, his voice laced with disbelief.
"Looks like it," Islyl replies.