Chapter 183. Productive Violence

Succubi Chapter 183. Productive Violence

Time passes slower when you want something.

It’s a universal curse.

The more you anticipate it, the more the clock decides to mock you.

Every second stretches.

Every minute becomes a lecture on patience.

And classes?

Classes felt like they had personally decided to test my sanity.

Professor after professor droned on about mana resonance, ethical field deployment, risk assessment matrices, normally I could tolerate it. Normally I’d even enjoy it.

Today?

Every ticking second was a reminder that I had a mission.

At 19:00 I had to report.

At some undefined hour after that, I’d be outside the academy walls fighting actual monsters for actual credits.

My leg bounced under the desk.

My pen tapped faster than usual.

Adrian elbowed me once during strategy class. “You look like you’re waiting for a festival.”

“I am,” I muttered. “It’s called independence.”

He snorted.

Evelyn noticed too. Her gaze lingered on me longer than usual. Not worried. Just observant. Like she was cataloging the way my shoulders stayed slightly tense, ready to move.

I didn’t say it out loud, but I needed this.

Not for reputation.

For myself.

To prove that the anomaly tag wasn’t just spectacle under a dome.

When the final bell rang, I was already halfway out of my seat.

The hallway buzzed with normal student noise, but my mind was elsewhere.

Dorm.

Prep.

Dinner.

Then mission room.

I reached my dorm and dropped my bag onto the bed.

Checklist mode activated.

Mana stabilizer? Check.

Basic potions? Check.

Phone charged? Check.

I paused.

Dinner.

Yeah.

That was important.

Because no matter how financially motivated I was, I wasn’t skipping Lilith’s food.

Ever.

The moment I entered the dining room, the aroma hit, savory herbs, roasted meat, something lightly sweet woven into the steam. The kind of food that didn’t just fill you up, it grounded you.

I ate slower than I intended.

Despite the anticipation burning under my ribs.

Each bite steady.

Intentional.

Because walking into a mission half-fed was stupid.

And I refused to be stupid.

By the time I dashed back toward the academy, the sky had dimmed into deep blue. Lamps flickered on along the stone paths. Shadows stretched longer.

It was almost 19:00.

The mission room sat near the rear wing, a wide hall with reinforced doors and subtle mana barriers humming faintly along the edges.

The moment I stepped inside… The difference hit.

The air felt heavier.

Not physically.

But energetically.

This place reeked of power.

Confidence.

Experience.

Students stood in small clusters, older semesters mostly. Their uniforms worn differently. Slight scuffs on boots. Weapons casually slung. Eyes sharper. Less chatter. More quiet assessment.

These weren’t cafeteria gossip students.

These were field veterans.

And me?

Semester one.

Fresh face.

New crest shine.

I felt it instantly.

The glances.

Quick.

Evaluating.

“Who’s that kid?” kind of gaze.

I straightened unconsciously.

Didn’t puff my chest.

Didn’t try to dominate space.

Just… existed.

Calm.

If I acted nervous, they’d smell it.

So I didn’t.

Footsteps approached behind me.

Familiar rhythm.

Confident stride.

“Oh, Evan you are here! That’s why you ate dinner in a hurry.”

I turned.

Rivy.

Her Titan uniform tonight was darker, reinforced with additional leather segments around the shoulders. She looked less like a student and more like a walking impact statement.

“You took a mission too?” I asked.

She nodded, stepping closer. Close enough that I could feel the faint heat radiating from her mana core.

“I need to take missions to blow off steam,” she said, leaning slightly toward me. “Wrath needs something to punch.”

I almost laughed.

“Well,” I said carefully, “I want to judge you… but I agree.”

She raised a brow.

“I also need something to punch,” I added. “Since I need to level up.”

There it was.

Honest.

Direct.

Rivy grinned slowly.

“I like that confidence.”

“Thanks.”

It wasn’t arrogance.

It was clarity.

She tilted her head. “So you took a hunting mission.”

“Absolutely.”

Her grin widened.

Good.

That meant we were aligned in at least one category: productive violence.

Around us, conversations buzzed low.

A third-year Valor student was explaining terrain positioning.

Two Arcana seniors discussed mana saturation in forest zones.

A Titan laughed loudly about cracking a bone last week.

This wasn’t academy play.

This was preparation for reality.

I felt something settle in my chest.

Excitement.

Not the chaotic kind.

The steady kind.

Rivy crossed her arms lightly.

“You nervous?”

I considered the question honestly.

“No.”

That surprised me.

Not because I wasn’t cautious.

But because I wasn’t shaking.

I wasn’t overthinking.

I was… ready.

Rivy’s gaze lingered for a second longer.

Then she smirked.

“Good.”

The reinforced doors at the front of the hall hummed faintly.

A staff member entered with a clipboard.

“Mission teams will be transferred shortly,” he announced.

Mana circles along the floor flickered to life.

Teleportation arrays.

My pulse picked up slightly.

This was it.

Outside the academy walls.

No instructor safety net.

Just monsters.

Credits.

And growth.

I rolled my shoulders once.

Rivy cracked her knuckles lightly.

Names were called one by one, sometimes in pairs, sometimes in full teams. The staff member’s voice carried clearly across the mission hall, firm but routine. Each group stepped forward when summoned, posture straightening instinctively under the weight of expectation.

The staff briefly restated the mission objectives, location, threat level, target count, environmental hazards, nothing dramatic, just precise and efficient. No glory promised. Only results required.

After the explanation, each student received a small, faceted crystal, clear at first glance but faintly pulsing with embedded teleportation runes. Emergency return only, the staff reminded them. One use. 

Then came the mana bracelets, clasped firmly around wrists. Sleek, metallic bands etched with tracking sigils, designed to monitor position, vital signs, and mana fluctuation in real time. A safety net without being one. Not protection, just surveillance.

Teams moved toward the activated teleportation circles as their names were confirmed. Blue-white light flared softly around them before swallowing their figures whole. One moment present. The next? Gone.

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