Chapter 179: Corruption Attempt in Progress…

The café area had started to thin out as students drifted toward the various festival attractions scattered across the entire school. Akira was still seated with Mia, Rina, and Aoi, nursing a now-cold coffee.

He was trying to process Valerius’s chilling departure when a sudden movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention.

Sakura Hanamura approached the outdoor café with a thick clipboard in her hand.

She was dressed in her pristine Student Council uniform: sharply pressed blazer, perfectly hemmed skirt, and her dark hair pulled back into a neat, severe ponytail. All business.

Then she saw Valerius.

For just a second, maybe less than a heartbeat, she froze mid-step.

Her eyes widened slightly, her clipboard lowering just an inch. Then the professional mask snapped firmly back into place, and she continued forward, straightening her posture to compensate for the slip.

Valerius, who had been chatting casually with a group of mesmerized upperclassmen near the café entrance, turned at exactly the right moment.

His expression shifted instantly into something warm, respectful, and welcoming.

“Ah,” Valerius said, smoothly excusing himself from the group and approaching Sakura directly. “You must be Sakura Hanamura. The famous Ice Queen of Kawakami High.”

Sakura blinked, visibly caught off guard by the directness. “I… yes. I am the Student Council President. How did you know my name, Mr. Ashford?”

“Your reputation precedes you.” Valerius’s smile was genuine and effortless. “Top of your class. Scholarship offers from three prestigious universities. You run this school’s administration better than most adults run their businesses.”

“You’ve done your research,” she said, though her tone lost some of its usual frost.

“I make it my business to know excellence when I see it,” Valerius replied smoothly. “And I know the burden of leadership can be quite lonely. People see the results, but they rarely appreciate the sleepless nights it takes to achieve them.”

Sakura’s usual composure wavered. Just slightly. A faint, unprecedented blush colored her cheeks, and she straightened her already-straight posture. “Thank you. That’s… actually very kind of you to say. Most people just assume it comes easily to me.”

“Nothing worth having comes easily,” Valerius murmured.

He gestured broadly at the sprawling festival setup around them. “Would you mind giving me a tour? I’d love to see everything through the eyes of the person who actually built it, rather than just the brochures.”

Sakura hesitated for exactly one second.

Then she nodded. “I… of course sir. It would be my pleasure to show you around.”

“Lead the way, Madam President.”

They walked away together, falling into an easy, synchronized step.

Akira watched them go. His hands tightened around his coffee cup until the cardboard creaked and nearly buckled.

“Are you okay?” Mia asked, noticing the sudden tension in his shoulders. “You look like you’re about to punch a wall.”

“I’m fine,” Akira said flatly.

“You don’t look fine,” Rina whispered, leaning in close so the others wouldn’t hear. “His aura is suffocating. I can feel it from here. Why is he going after the President?”

“He’s trying to show me that he can and there’s nothing I can do about it,” Akira muttered with a tight jaw.

“Darling,” Ai said quietly in his mind. “You can’t intervene… at least not here, and definitely not now.”

“I should walk over there and pull her away.”

“And say what?” Ai challenged. “There’s no legitimate reason for you to stop them. You would look insanely jealous. Possessive. Suspicious. It would ruin your civilian cover instantly.”

“I know,” Akira mentally gritted out.

“And Valerius knows that you know. That’s exactly why he’s doing it in public. It’s a show of force.”

Akira set the cup down carefully on the table and stood up. “I need to get to the locker room. We have a game to prep for.”

Over the next two hours, Akira caught torturous glimpses of them as he moved through the school.

He shouldn’t be worried, considering it’s Sakura and he’s been thinking of the perfect way to get at her.

But it’s Valerius… anything to keep him from winning or having the upper hand.

At the art exhibit, Valerius stood close behind Sakura as she explained the student paintings.

His hand was resting lightly on the small of her back in a gesture of casual intimacy that she didn’t pull away from.

At the food stalls, he bought her takoyaki. She laughed at something he said… actually laughed in a warm, genuine, melodic sound Akira had never heard from her before.

At the outdoor stage, a girl Akira didn’t recognize joined them.

She was pretty, incredibly friendly, and positioned herself on Sakura’s other side like she’d been her best friend for years.

Yui, he grabbed her name when Valerius mentioned. One of Valerius’s demonic plants.

The three of them looked perfectly natural together. A tight-knit group. Sakura was smiling, animated, and engaged in a way that made her look almost unrecognizable from the cold, distant disciplinarian everyone knew.

And every single time Akira saw them, Valerius managed to catch his eye for just a fraction of a second. A brief, knowing glance that clearly said: I see you watching. I see you doing nothing.

“He’s isolating her,” Ai explained clinically. “It’s classic manipulation, enhanced by demonic essence. He makes her feel seen, valued, and special. Then he surrounds her with his own people so she associates all those positive emotions directly with his presence.”

“It’s working too fast,” Akira noted.

“By the time she realizes what’s happening, she’ll be too far gone to pull away easily. Her brain will treat him like a drug.”

“How long does he have until the bond is permanent?”

“At this rate? Six hours, maybe less. He’s working aggressively.”

Akira turned away from the festival grounds, his vision tunneling. He headed straight toward the gym.

The locker room was loud, thick with the smell of sweat, deep heat rub, and nervous pre-game energy.

Half the team was already suited up, stretching out their hamstrings, taping ankles, and running through offensive plays in their heads.

The other half was still pulling on their home jerseys and double-knotting their basketball shoes.

“Hey, Captain, you ready to crush Shibuya?” Soita, the power forward, called out, tossing a towel at Akira.

“Always,” Akira caught it smoothly. “Just stick to the pick-and-roll. We break their defense early, they’ll panic.”

Shibuya High had arrived thirty minutes ago. Akira could hear them just down the hall: loud, excessively confident, and talking trash in booming voices intentionally meant to carry into the home locker room.

Akira sat down on the wooden bench and started taping his right ankle. If this game was going to get as dirty as Yuki had warned him, he wasn’t taking any chances with his mobility.

Across the room, Kenji was unusually quiet.

He sat slumped on the opposite bench, his phone clutched in his hand. He was staring at the glowing screen with an expression Akira couldn’t quite read. He looked stressed. He looked guilty.

Akira watched him covertly in the long mirror mounted on the wall. Kenji typed something frantically, paused, then deleted it all. He typed again. Deleted again. His left leg bounced nervously against the linoleum floor.

Coach Yamada walked in holding a heavy clipboard in hand, and clapped his hands twice.

“Alright, listen up, gentlemen!” Coach Yamada barked. “Shibuya plays an aggressive, physical game. You know this. Expect hard screens and elbows in the paint. The refs are going to let things slide today to keep the exhibition flowing, so keep your damn cool. Do not give them a reason to call technical fouls on us. We play our game. Understood?”

“Yes, Coach!” the team echoed.

He looked around the room, making direct eye contact with his key players. “Kanzaki, Takahara… you two are our foundation out there. Our dual captains. I need you both locked in from the first whistle. No ego. Just basketball.”

Kenji nodded slowly, staring at his shoes. He didn’t look up.

Akira didn’t respond at all. His eyes were locked on Kenji.

As the coach gave the final signal and the team started filing out of the double doors toward the court, Akira stood up and crossed the room.

He stepped deliberately in front of Kenji, physically blocking his path to the exit.

“Hey,” Akira said quietly, keeping his voice below the ambient noise. “We good?”

Kenji looked up, startled, his eyes darting away almost immediately. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t we be?”

“Just checking,” Akira said, his gaze piercing. “It’s a big game. Need to know my co-captain has my back out there.”

“We’ll win.” Kenji’s voice was completely flat and devoid of its usual arrogant fire. “Don’t worry about it.”

“That’s not what I asked, Kenji.”

“I said we’re fine, Kanzaki!” Kenji snapped, side-stepping him roughly.

He walked away quickly, pushing through the locker room doors without waiting for a response.

Akira stood there for a moment, watching the heavy doors swing shut.

“He’s lying through his teeth,” Ai said.

“I know.”

The gymnasium was packed beyond capacity. It was standing room only. Local media crews had set up their heavy cameras near the scorer’s table, and the bleachers were a sea of students, parents, and faculty members.

The ambient noise level was already deafening, echoing off the high ceiling, and the game hadn’t even started yet.

Akira walked onto the polished hardwood court for warmups. He began his layup drills, smoothly catching passes and banking the ball off the glass, but out of sheer survival habit, he scanned the crowd.

SPIU agents were scattered throughout the stands, at least four that he could easily identify by their rigid posture and concealed earpieces.

It was routine monitoring after the other day’s supernatural incident with the painting, but it complicated things. Ayame was seated in the upper bleachers; her posture was relaxed but her sharp eyes were tracking Akira’s every move.

And then he saw the VIP section.

Front row. Perfect, unobstructed view of the court.

Valerius sat incredibly comfortably, looking like a king observing a gladiatorial match. One arm was draped casually over the back of the folding chair beside him.

Sakura sat in that chair, leaning slightly toward him as they talked over the crowd noise. Yui sat on her other side, close enough that their shoulders touched comfortably.

Sakura laughed brightly at something Valerius said, her hand reaching out to touch his forearm briefly.

The system chimed softly in Akira’s ear, overlaying his vision with text.

[WARNING: TARGETED CORRUPTION ATTEMPT IN PROGRESS]

[TARGET: SAKURA HANAMURA]

[CURRENT PROGRESS: 35%]

[METHOD: SOCIAL ISOLATION + CHARM SATURATION]

[ESTIMATED TIME TO FULL CORRUPTION: 6 HOURS]

“Darling,” Ai said in a cautious tone. “He’s been actively working on her all day. Every laugh, every smile, every single moment of focused attention… it’s all essence work. He’s making her associate those positive dopamine hits directly with his demonic presence. By the time she realizes what’s actually happening, her brain will already be chemically wired to crave him. She won’t be able to resist.”

“I know,” Akira replied, snatching a rebound out of the air.

“You can’t stop it. Not here in front of a thousand people. Not now.”

“I know that too.”

Akira turned away from the stands and forced himself to focus entirely on his warmups. He needed anything to keep his hands busy and his mind from spiraling into a violent rage.

When he finally looked up again, Valerius was already watching him.

Their eyes met across the chaotic, noisy court.

Valerius raised his plastic water bottle in a slow, deliberate, mocking toast.

Then, making sure Akira was looking directly at his mouth, he mouthed two silent words: Good luck.

And smiled.

Akira turned away, his blood running cold.

Shibuya High took the court five minutes later.

They were loud, arrogant, and highly organized. Their captain, Takeshi, was built like a collegiate linebacker… all thick muscle, height, and barely-contained aggression.

He moved with the heavy, imposing swagger of someone who had played dirty his entire life and never been punished for it.

When the teams lined up shoulder-to-shoulder for the customary opening handshake, Takeshi made direct, challenging eye contact with Akira. He smirked, a nasty, knowing expression.

The referee stepped to the center circle and blew his whistle sharply. “Captains to center court for the tip-off!”

Akira and Takeshi broke from their teams and walked forward.

The overwhelming noise of the cheering crowd seemed to fade slightly as they faced each other at the center circle.

Takeshi leaned in close, his voice pitched low enough that only Akira could hear him over the din.

“I heard you’ve been making waves, Kanzaki,” Takeshi said, his grin widening to reveal his teeth. “It would be a real sight to see you perform that in your worst form today.”

Akira lowered his stance slightly, his entire body coiling like a spring. He locked eyes with the massive player. “Try it.”

Takeshi’s grin turned entirely predatory. “Oh, I will. Count on it.”

The referee stepped between them, holding the basketball at waist height. “Gentlemen, keep it clean. Ready?”

Akira nodded once.

The ball went up.

The game began.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep