The classroom buzzed with its usual hormonal chaos, but beneath the surface, a tension clung to the walls of school like cigarette smoke.
Machio Araki sat at his desk, staring blankly at his hand. Faint crimson markings pulsed just beneath the skin—vein-like, serpentine. He clenched his fist. The resonance still hadn't settled after the Nightshade Trial. Even with the Harem King Aura II now part of him, there was something wrong.
Something was watching.
Tachibana Natsume sat nearby, tapping her pencil against her vampire TikTok-covered notebook. "You keep twitching like you're gonna explode. Want me to hit you with a sedative fang?"
"No," Machio said quietly. "I just... feel off."
"That makes two of us," Veronica added, peering at her reflection in a silver compact. "My seduction meter hasn't activated all morning. It's like... something's jamming it."
Before more could be said, the intercom cracked to life.
"Araki Machio, please report to the nurse's office. Immediately."
Half the class went quiet. A few girls giggled nervously. Others exchanged worried glances. Machio rose slowly, heart pounding.
As he stepped into the hallway, he couldn't shake the feeling that every eye was on him. And not in the usual, pervy-harem-anime way. This was colder. Calculated.
**
The nurse's office was empty. No scent of antiseptic. No cozy lighting. Just shadows.
Machio stepped inside. The door slammed shut behind him.
"Hello, Machio," a voice said from the dark.
From behind the curtain emerged a figure in a pristine Mishima uniform. Tall, sharp-jawed, with a calm smile.
"You... you're the new transfer student," Machio said, squinting. "Haru... Mitsuki, right?"
"You remembered. Good. Makes this easier."
Suddenly, the air turned thick. Mitsuki's eyes glowed a faint red. His hand moved, forming a seal. Crimson glyphs ignited beneath Machio's feet.
"W-What the hell?!"
Mitsuki's smile widened. "We need to test your loyalty, Harem King. To see if you're truly worthy of Crimson Resonance... or if you're just a vessel to be drained."
**
Meanwhile, in the stairwell leading to the rooftop, Veronica and Tachibana were already on the move.
"He's been gone too long," Veronica said, adjusting her skirt's slit for maximum combat mobility.
"And the nurse's office doesn't even have a nurse right now," Tachibana muttered, eyes narrowed. "This smells like a setup."
They broke into a sprint.
**
Machio groaned as Mitsuki's spell dug deeper into his core. His aura was flaring, trying to break free. Crimson waves burst from him, burning sigils in midair.
"You're holding back," Mitsuki said calmly. "Why? Afraid of your own power?"
"No... I'm afraid of what it wants."
Mitsuki paused.
Suddenly, the ceiling above exploded.
Tachibana dropped from the sky like a vampire angel of fury, fangs bared. Veronica followed, spinning into a leg kick that knocked Mitsuki across the room.
Machio coughed, falling to his knees. The glyphs vanished. The pressure was gone.
"You okay?" Tachibana knelt, eyes searching his.
"I think... I think he was using some kind of corruption seal. Trying to hijack my resonance."
Veronica nodded. "Not normal magic. Dark martial arts. This... might be linked to the Phoenix Blood."
Machio's breath caught. Phoenix Blood.
His mother had once whispered that term in her sleep.
Before she vanished.
**
Back in class, news of the attack spread like wildfire. Some students whispered that Machio had turned dark. Others blamed him for the magical disruptions across campus—broken mirrors, combusting gym shorts, even a mysteriously pregnant ghost in the third-floor bathroom.
Whispers became rumors. Rumors became paranoia.
Machio stood at the school courtyard alone after dismissal, watching clouds gather.
Kira, Tachibana's brother, appeared beside him, holding two cans of melon soda. He offered one.
"You looked like you needed something fizzy."
Machio took it. "Thanks."
"People are scared of you."
"I know."
"You scared of you?"
Machio laughed bitterly. "Maybe."
Kira leaned against the fence. "I used to be afraid of Tachibana too. Until I realized she's just a girl with fangs and trauma."
Machio glanced at him. "You think I'm just a guy with a harem and trauma?"
Kira shrugged. "No. You're something more. And that is what scares them."
**
Later that night, in the dorm lounge, Machio found Azumi—his beautiful, mysteriously young mother—sitting on the couch in a silk robe, sipping wine.
"You were attacked today."
"How do you always know?"
"Because your aura shook the wine glass on the table."
She patted the seat beside her.
"Sit."
He did. She turned, eyes glowing faintly red.
"Machio... I haven't told you everything about your father."
He looked up, startled.
Azumi sipped her wine. "He was part of the Phoenix Blood sect. A forbidden martial clan. They believed in mixing spirit techniques with carnal resonance."
"...Carnal?"
"Why do you think your powers awaken during pervy encounters? Your father was a Crimson Monk. And the Vampire Council feared what our bloodline could produce."
She leaned closer. "You are that product."
Machio blinked. "So I'm... a weapon?"
"No," Azumi said, kissing his forehead. "You are my son. And that's why I'll burn the world before I let anyone control you."
Kira walked in, caught sight of Azumi's robe, then turned around and walked out with a quiet, "Thank you, God."
**
Meanwhile, in the shadows of the old clock tower, Mitsuki knelt before a cloaked figure.
"I failed."
"No," the voice hissed. "You did perfectly. Now he knows. Now the Phoenix Blood will stir."
Lightning flashed.
And far away, in the sealed vaults of the Crimson Court, a pair of golden eyes opened.
TO BE CONTINUED