"Service duty... in a fishy-smelling fishing village? You're joking, right?" I stared at the assignment papers in my hand with utter disbelief.
In front of me, the Academy Headmaster cleared his throat awkwardly. "Alex, you crushed the prince in public. The King is practically calling for your head. This is the only way the Heist family can legally protect you—by spiriting you away from the capital until things cool down."
"And why does she have to come along?" I pointed at Elara, who was casually inspecting her nails beside me.
"Because I am your fiancée, my dear Alex," Elara said with a sweet smile—the kind of smile that promised me nothing but mental anguish. "And I am your guardian knight. I won't have you left alone in a fishing village crawling with scantily-clad country girls."
"And... Lady Clarisse?" I turned toward the corner of the room, where Clarisse stood clutching a large backpack.
"I... I volunteered," Clarisse murmured, her face turning beet red. "As a Saintess-in-training, I must perform community service. And I feel... I owe you an explanation, Alex."
Elara stood up, her cold aura instantly filling the room. "An explanation? Keep it to yourself, Saintess. If you dare come within a meter of Alex during this trip, I'll make sure you end up as shark bait."
I massaged my temples. This was going to be a 300-kilometer journey through literal hell.
That night, at a small roadside inn on the way to the village:
"There's only one room left," the elderly innkeeper said innocently. "And it only has two large beds."
I looked at Elara. Elara glared at Clarisse. Clarisse stared at the floor.
"I'm sleeping on the floor," I said quickly.
"No!" Elara and Clarisse shouted in unison.
"Alex, you are my assistant. You must sleep beside me so I feel safe," Elara grabbed my arm, dragging me toward the bed on the right.
"But... but Alex was injured in the duel yesterday! He needs regular holy magic treatment!" Clarisse found the courage to yank my other arm.
I stood in the middle, caught in a tug-of-war between the two most dangerous women in the academy, in a cramped room that smelled of old wood and Elara's rose perfume.
God, I thought cynically. How did this extra's life get so messy? I'd rather fight a dragon than have to share a bed with both of them.
The "Faithful Gull" inn on the outskirts of this fishing village was supposed to be a sanctuary of peace. However, the atmosphere inside Room Number 7 right now is heavier than the gravity at the bottom of the ocean.
I sit on the edge of the creaking wooden bed, staring at the two large bunks facing each other. Between them sits only a small table with a flickering oil lamp.
"Alex, you're sweating. Let me help you out of that heavy cloak," Elara steps closer. She has already swapped her traveling clothes for a black silk nightgown that is remarkably short—far too short for a village inn. Her rose scent dominates the room, as if trying to forcibly evict the smell of the sea wafting through the window.
"I can do it myself, Elara," I say, attempting to back away.
"Don't refuse me, darling. You are my assistant, but in here... I am your servant," Elara whispers, her cold fingers beginning to undo my collar buttons one by one. Her eyes flash a challenging glint toward Clarisse, who stands frozen in the corner.
"Lady Elara! That... that is inappropriate!" Clarisse finally speaks up, her face as red as a ripe tomato. She clutches the hem of her holy robes. "Alex is exhausted. He needs tranquility, not... temptation!"
Elara lets out a small, condescending chuckle. "Temptation? This is called devotion, Saintess. Something you could never understand because you're too busy praying to a god who doesn't even care about you."
"At least I don't force him!" Clarisse steps forward, standing on the other side of my bed. "Alex, let me check your mana circuits. The wounds from your duel with Prince Julian yesterday could be fatal if the residual black mana isn't cleansed with Holy Magic."
"I told you, I'm fine," I mutter, but Clarisse has already taken hold of my wrist.
Clarisse's touch feels warm and soothing—like spring sunshine. It stands in stark contrast to Elara's touch, which is sharp and icy.
BZZZT!
Suddenly, a spark of blue mana explodes between us. Elara roughly shoves Clarisse's hand away.
"Do. Not. Touch. Him," Elara hisses. Her silver hair begins to drift slightly, a sign that her mana is becoming unstable. "Or I will freeze that hand of yours until it shatters into a thousand pieces."
"Elara, enough!" I stand up between them, blocking their line of sight to each other. "If you want to fight, take it outside. I want to sleep. Tomorrow we have to start clearing the docks and helping the fishermen, remember?"
Clarisse looks down, her eyes welling with tears. "Forgive me, Alex... I only wanted to help."
Elara snorts, then suddenly wraps her arm tightly around mine, leaning her chest against my shoulder without a shred of shame. "Fine. Let's sleep. But Alex sleeps in the right bed with me. You, Saintess, sleep in the left bed alone. Don't even think about crossing over if you value your life."
"Wait, what?! One bed?!" I bolt upright.
"Of course. Heist Tower is your home now, and this is practice for our future 'nights' together," Elara pulls me onto the mattress, dropping my body onto a somewhat stiff pillow.
Clarisse looks ready to protest, but seeing the murderous aura radiating from Elara, she can only bite her lip and climb into the adjacent bed, looking utterly heartbroken.
The oil lamp is extinguished.
Darkness envelops the room, but I can't close my eyes. To my right, Elara is clinging to me like an octopus, her legs entwined with mine and her head buried in the crook of my neck. I can feel her steady breath on my skin.
"Alex..." she whispers softly, so quietly that Clarisse couldn't possibly hear. "Don't ever think about giving your warmth to that girl. If you do... I truly will destroy this village and everyone in it."
I swallow hard. This isn't just a threat; it's a Yandere's promise.
From the next bed, I can hear Clarisse's muffled sobs as she tries to hide them behind her blanket.
Dammit, I think, staring at the dark ceiling. This community service has just begun, and I already feel like I'm in purgatory. A quiet life? That was just a myth I made up for myself in this iteration.
Suddenly, I feel Elara's hand creep under my shirt, her fingers gently tracing the scars on my chest. "I love you, Alex... never forget that."
I close my eyes, trying to summon the "Glitch" system in my head just to shut down my sensory nerves for the night. This is going to be a very long and exhausting 100 chapters.