Chapter 1406

<Chapter 1406> 1406. The Savior of the Academy

A spacious room with tatami mats.

Seated within was an elderly man with a robust build and white hair. Dressed in a black kimono, he sat cross-legged on the tatami mat, holding a teacup delicately with both hands.

The old man’s identity? Sanada Kenshi—Head of the Madou-tei.

He quietly took a sip of the steaming tea.

Zzzt.

Around Sanada Kenshi, space began to warp, revealing a figure. It was humanoid—a form of magical video call or something like that. Soon enough, four figures appeared around him.

Including Sanada Kenshi, there were now five in total.

These were the officers who led the Madou-tei alongside Sanada Kenshi.

Today, they convened for an emergency meeting due to unforeseen developments at Japan’s Arashi Academy.

“Word has it that students from Korea’s academy arrived today.”

Sanada Kenshi broke the ice first since he had summoned them all for this urgent conference.

– An emergency meeting over something so trivial? They’re probably just here for the exchange program. It’s none of our business.

– That’s right. As much as Korea gets under my skin… now is the time to focus on the plan.

– Didn’t you yourself say, Sanada Kenshi, that meddling with the academy would cost us more than we’d gain?

With calm deliberation, Sanada Kenshi slowly lifted his teacup once more and took another sip.

“I’ve obtained highly confidential information. It seems Sung Hali is among the guardians accompanying the Korean academy students.”

For a moment, the four officers fell silent.

Sung Hali.

There was no one present unfamiliar with that name.

– …What’s going on here? Did the government catch wind of our plans and ask Sung Hali for help?

– That’s absurd. If the Japanese government knew, we would have been informed. And naturally, we would have acted to ensure Sung Hali never set foot in Japan.

– Wasn’t she mentioned as being at Arashi Academy? Then it’s simple: Tenrai Nagisa. That woman must have pulled some strings.

– She might not know everything about our plans, but she’s clearly caught onto part of it… so your theory isn’t completely baseless.

– What do we do? Proceed with the plan as is? Or wait until the Heavenly Brain of Guantian leaves Japan?

– We’ve prepared for over thirty years. Now we’re entering the final stages. Is it really necessary to take unnecessary risks? Dealing with Korea and the Heavenly Brain can wait until after we succeed.

Everyone preferred to let things slide quietly.

But Sanada Kenshi, Head of the Madou-tei, thought otherwise.

“Sung Hali isn’t the same person she used to be. There’s no reason to fear her. The plan will proceed as scheduled. Once successful, eliminating Tenrai Nagisa and Sung Hali will be a mere formality.”

– …Have we really prepared for thirty years only to fail because we can’t wait a few months longer?

“Should the entire Madou-tei halt because of a single variable? If we fail because of someone like Sung Hali… then perhaps failure is better. You seem to have grown timid with age.”

– Sanada does have a point. If our plan fails because of one person… doesn’t that mean we’re simply incompetent?

– We’re nearing the endgame! Thirty years of planning are finally coming to fruition! This isn’t about pride—it’s about practicality!

“Practicality has already been considered thoroughly.”


Sung Ha-ri will be unable to do anything. Hattori.”

-…Speak.

“Proceed according to the plan.”

-As you wish.

Having finished his words, Sanada Kenshi once again sipped his tea. Though he heard the voices of his officers through his earpiece, there would be no changes to the plan.

After evening meal time, free time was granted.

I found myself lost in a blissful dilemma—deciding which woman to spend my free time with.

Resuming unfinished physical conversations with Sung Ha-ri? Perhaps smashing into Yoon Hee-jung for some rough sex wouldn’t be bad. Letting Go Eun-ha take control could also be fun. Checking in on Lee Si-eun after so long might not be too shabby either.

‘How about sex in the bathhouse? No, it’s probably being used by other students right now.’

Lost in thought, I wandered down the hallway. At the end of it lay a lounge. Although I intended to pass it by, my eyes caught sight of a blonde woman sitting in a chair, blankly staring out the window. It was Clara Feirade.

“Enjoying the outside view? Can’t see much in this darkness.”

Clara turned her startled gaze toward me before smiling faintly at the corner of her lips.

“Are you Sung Yoo-jin, ranked first in the year? I’m Clara Feirade. This is our first conversation. Nice to meet you.”

Her smile was breathtaking, and her voice, as expected from a singer, was clear and refined. Definitely someone who’d let out a beautiful scream.

‘A moment.’

[Using ‘Moment’. Remaining stacks: 6]

Using Moment, I slowly took in her figure.

Clara was every bit the dream Western blonde beauty, her golden hair shimmering gorgeously, her blue eyes like gemstones, and her porcelain-white skin flawless. Her physique was naturally outstanding. With breasts likely around an I-cup, a slender waist, and hips that seemed ready to burst, all paired with her towering height of 170 cm.

“That’s enough.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Isn’t it tiring always pretending to be nice and cheerful around people? Dealing with me must feel like a chore, right?”

Clara’s expression stiffened slightly, but only for a fleeting second—less than a second. However, I had been observing her intently and caught that brief change. Her face was just too stunning not to focus on.

“What are you talking about? Are you some journalist or paparazzi trying to fish for something strange?”

“I’m good at reading people, Clara Feirade. Born in Nevada, you stood out as a singer from a young age. Your favorite fruit is cherries, your favorite dish is Chicago-style pizza, you hate durians and potato-based dishes altogether. You enjoy reading TIME magazine, and aside from English, you’re fluent in German, French, and Korean. And among your close celebrity friends….”

“Stop! So you’re a fan who knows a lot about me. Where should I sign? Even on a T-shirt if you want.”

“What about things others don’t know?”

“You mean me finding you annoying? That’s all your imagination. I wouldn’t find dealing with fans annoying. After all, everything I have today is thanks to them.”

Clara smiled.

All my attempts to grab her attention seem to be falling flat.

‘If I back off here, it’s really over. Time to step it up a notch—even if it risks backlash.’

This is a rare opportunity. Ending things with indifference feels worse than risking a little dislike.

“And three years ago, you received a confession from a red-haired punk.”

Clara’s face froze completely. That red-haired punk was none other than Hanson Hemmingford, the heir to the Hemmingford family—one of the top five families in America.

Clara rejected Hanson Hemmingford’s confession and, as retaliation, was barred from performing in the U.S. Hanson tried to gaslight her using his wealth and power, but Clara escaped to Korea for further studies and continued her singing career beyond the reach of the Hemmingfords.

“How do you know that….”

“Is this because Hanson sent you to approach me?”

“You. Did Hanson hire you?”

I wanted to say honestly that I just wanted to devour her, but that wouldn’t work.

“No way. Do you even know who I am? My mom is Sung Ha-ri.”


“……So, why the heck are you here in front of me? Here to threaten me?”

“Threatening you for what?”

Clara is a tough cookie inside and out. Just look at her—she’s still boldly pursuing her singing career even after turning Hemingford into an enemy.

Your average threats don’t phase her. Threats aren’t the best option. Should I force myself on her? With my current power, it’s doable. But where’s the fun in that?

“I’m your fan. I want to help you.”

“…Hmph. If you’re truly a fan, please stop making things difficult for me. Just because you know my situation doesn’t mean you understand everything about me… But since you are a fan, I’ll sign autographs anytime you want.”

“I really love your songs. I want to keep listening to them. Not the ones that already exist, but new songs that you create and sing. But if Hemingford interferes, that might get complicated. So, I want to help you—for my own sake too.”

“Huh… You’re saying you’d make Hemingford your enemy just for my music? All for some songs?”

“Your songs aren’t just ‘some songs.’ And if I help you… Someday, won’t you repay me? Like by writing and singing a song just for me?”

Clara smirked faintly.

“I don’t sing for just one person. And I never plan to. I appreciate that you like my music, but there’s no need for you to help me. I’ll be leaving now—I was actually waiting here to meet Teacher Yun Hee-jung. I’ll give you that autograph later.”

With quick strides, Clara left the lounge. Her swaying golden hair and the rhythmic swing of her hips as she walked stirred something deep within me.

‘She’s walking so fast it almost looks like she’s running away.’

I leaned against the lounge wall, gazing out the window with a distracted gaze while pondering the Hemingford family.

‘Turning against Hemingford means turning against the entire U.S., too.’

The influence the Hemingford family wields over America is immense.

Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t dare mess with the Hemingfords.

‘But Hanson Hemingford messed with *my* girl.’

Clara is mine.

She hasn’t been officially claimed yet, but I’ve decided—she’s mine.

‘Anyone who messes with my woman has to pay. Even if it’s the U.S.’

If America gets in my way, I’ll obliterate it using every method and means available.

As I always do.

‘Americans love zombies so much, don’t they…?’

After leaving the lounge, I headed toward Choi Da-yeon’s room.

Choi Da-yeon was essential to my plan.

Knock knock knock.

I gently knocked on Choi Da-yeon’s door and said,

“It’s me, Sung Yoo-jin. I have something to discuss. Can I come in?”

“…Wait.”

The door opened. Choi Da-yeon was still in her school uniform, arms crossed as usual, greeting me with her signature haughty expression.

“What do you want? Speak here; I don’t want you coming in.”

“I said I want to talk inside.”

“…My packing isn’t done yet.”

“Haha.”

Ignoring her protests, I chuckled and forcefully entered her room. Her crossed arms faltered, unable to stop me. Once inside, I glanced around. The aroma candle on her desk was burning, filling the room with its fragrant scent. Despite my casual demeanor, I couldn’t hide my grin as I noticed the unease flickering in Choi Da-yeon’s eyes.

Truthfully, I had activated my divine sight before knocking on her door, so I already knew exactly what she had been doing inside.

Pretending to casually approach her desk, I suddenly spun around and lunged toward her bed.

“Sung Yoo-jin! Get off the bed! Don’t just jump onto a girl’s bed like that!”

“Nah, not gonna happen.”

I tossed aside the summer blanket. The blue bedsheet in the center was slightly damp, as if water had spilled on it. But I didn’t stop there—I reached under the pillow and pulled out the hidden item.

A white pair of panties. The crotch area was soaked with sticky liquid, and a single curly pubic hair clung to it as a bonus.

“Wow, these are still warm. Were you having a good time just now?”