Chapter 224 ·Why Is the Boss Here Personally

Sunlight.

Blinding ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍sunlight, carrying that lazy afternoon warmth, spilled across the desks in large patches.

Fine ‍​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍chalk dust floated in the air like countless tiny insects dancing wildly. The blackboard eraser hadn’t been cleaned properly, leaving behind half-erased, pale function formulas. That big “X” looked like it was mocking someone’s intelligence.

Lilia ‍​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍was stunned.

Where ‍​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍was this place?

A ‍​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍school?

She blinked hard, even secretly pinching her thigh.

Hiss—pain.

Not a dream.

But this was even more absurd than a dream!

“Ding-ling-ling—”

A sudden bell rang overhead.

That conditioned reflex engraved into her DNA instantly took over her body.

She subconsciously tried to shove the short blade in her hand into the desk compartment—but halfway through, her movement froze.

Wait.

Something’s not right.

Lilia suddenly snapped back to her senses and slapped her forehead.

What the hell was she afraid of?!

She was Lilia now!

She didn’t need to go to school anymore!

That old world that made her tremble was already separated by a dimensional wall.

“Phew…”

Lilia let out a long breath, suppressing that embarrassing stress reaction.

This had to be an illusion.

A mental prison created by that “keeper.”

As long as she didn’t follow the script, as long as she didn’t treat herself as a student, this illusion was nothing more than a paper tiger.

With that realization, Lilia instantly straightened her back.

She casually slammed her short blade onto the desk with a loud “bang,” then leaned back into the chair, crossed her legs, and struck a domineering pose of “I’m the boss, who’s afraid of who.”

Since it was an illusion, then she’d tear it apart.

Just as Lilia was considering whether to use a “Time Stop demolition technique” on the desk, the tightly shut front door of the classroom was suddenly pushed open from outside.

“Creak—”

Then came a series of crisp, rhythmic footsteps.

“Tap, tap, tap.”

The sound of high heels.

For some reason, Lilia’s crossed leg began trembling slightly at that sound.

And that sense of pressure…

She swallowed, her gaze fixed firmly on the doorway.

A hand held the doorframe.

A pale, slender hand.

Then, that person stepped in.

At that moment, Lilia felt like the CPU in her brain had burned out.

That was… Hera.

A white fitted shirt, buttoned all the way up to the top—restrained and strict, yet stretched taut by her proud curves, as if it might burst open at any moment.

Below was a black hip-hugging skirt, the length perfectly stopping above the knees, outlining that exaggerated waist-to-hip ratio to perfection.

But the most lethal part—

Her legs.

Those long legs usually hidden beneath long skirts were now wrapped in thin, almost transparent black stockings, paired with glossy black pointed high heels.

Her black hair was tied up high, revealing a slender swan-like neck. On the bridge of her nose rested a pair of gold-rimmed glasses. Behind the lenses, those golden eyes—usually carrying mockery and coldness—now swept across the classroom with icy scrutiny.

Office lady?

Teacher play?

Lilia stared, eyes wide, mouth slightly open, a “ha-ha” sound coming from her throat like a duck suddenly strangled.

Th-this… this was something that illusion boss could come up with?

Did that boss really have such advanced taste?

This was a direct, pinpoint strike on her preferences!

“Class has started. Why are you still spacing out?”

“Teacher Hera” placed the lesson plan on the podium, casually picking up a slender teaching pointer and tapping it lightly against the desk.

“Pa, pa.”

The sound wasn’t loud, but it made Lilia’s entire body tremble.

Hera’s gaze pierced through the empty classroom, locking precisely onto Lilia in the back corner.

That gaze—thirty percent cold, thirty percent stern, and forty percent an unreadable amusement.

She stepped down from the podium.

The sound of high heels striking the floor drew closer.

As the distance closed, that familiar scent—cool, sharp cedar—forcefully invaded Lilia’s nose.

Lilia’s brain completely crashed.

That smell… was too real.

So real it made her question reality itself.

Hera stopped in front of Lilia’s desk, looking down at her from above.

The queen who usually stood high above all had now transformed into a strict teacher. That sense of contrast hit harder than a forbidden spell.

Lilia subconsciously tried to stand up and salute, to call out “Master.”

But just as her hips left the chair, she suddenly realized something was wrong.

She looked down.

Her original outfit had disappeared at some point, replaced by a blue-and-white sailor uniform.

The skirt was absurdly short, barely covering the upper thighs.

On her legs were white over-the-knee socks, paired with small round-toe leather shoes.

At that moment, Lilia felt blood rush straight to her head.

Shame.

So damn shameful!

What kind of pervert designed this script?!

“Student Lilia.”

Hera spoke.

The voice was the same—magnetic, with that mature, commanding tone that could make legs go weak.

But now, it carried less killing intent and more the authority of a teacher.

The pointer in her hand lifted slightly, pressing against Lilia’s chin, forcing her to raise her head.

The cold touch made Lilia shiver.

“You look… very nervous?”

Hera leaned down slightly, an absolutely oppressive posture.

That exquisite face magnified before Lilia’s eyes. The chain of the glasses dangled down, lightly brushing against her cheek, ticklish.

Lilia unconsciously swallowed.

“Gulp.”

The sound echoed clearly in the quiet classroom.

“I… I’m not nervous,” Lilia stammered, not daring to meet Hera’s eyes.

“Not nervous?”

Hera raised an eyebrow, a dangerous curve forming at the corner of her lips.

The pointer slid down from Lilia’s chin, along her neck, across her collarbone, and finally stopped at the bow on her sailor uniform, gently lifting it.

“If you’re not nervous, why is your heartbeat so fast?”

“And…”

Hera leaned close to Lilia’s ear.

“…it’s all wet here.”

She was referring, of course, to her palm.

Lilia’s hand gripping her skirt was soaked with cold sweat.

Lilia felt like she was about to explode.

Was this really an illusion?

If it was, then this boss’s imitation of Hera was way too accurate—even that suffocatingly terrible personality had been perfectly replicated.

The “Hera” in front of her might not be a simple illusion at all—it might actually be the real Hera crawling over through some connection to “inspect” her.

Lilia suddenly looked up, meeting those half-smiling eyes behind the lenses.

Case closed.

This was definitely the real one!

That shameless boss wasn’t just watching—she had personally entered the scene to add more drama!

“Teacher…” Lilia’s voice trembled, this time not from fear but from weakness, “um, since this is class, shouldn’t we… go over the textbook?”

She tried to steer the conversation back to a proper “respect the teacher” direction.

As long as it entered a normal teaching flow, she would have a chance to find a way out.

“Teach?”

Hera let out a soft laugh, straightening up and pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

That action—

was unbearably restrained and seductive at the same time.

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