"Just as I thought, the core of this move... is vibration, huh?"

In the middle of a wrecked corridor, Muen sat on a chunk of wall debris, observing the movement of his own hand.

His five fingers bent and stretched in turn, mimicking the form of various beast claws. But no matter how they changed, the essence of the motion stayed the same—each swing of the hand caused the air around it to lightly tremble.

Thunderclap – LV2!

Seeing the record appear in the Black Book, Muen couldn’t help but show a hint of joy.

After being beaten hundreds of times by Ailuka’s husband—that overwhelmingly powerful adventurer—he had finally managed to get the hang of this technique.

Compared to [Shadow Step], which only served for movement, or [Dagger Combat Technique], which was more a skill than an actual martial art, this technique had far broader applicability.

In fact, it could be considered the first offensive martial art Muen had truly learned.

And even at just LV2, the power was already formidable enough that Muen didn’t dare imagine how terrifying it might become at higher mastery.

Of course, that also meant the difficulty of learning it was a tier above what he’d experienced with [Shadow Step].

"But once you get past the beginner stage, everything else becomes much easier."

Learning martial arts through real combat—without a teacher’s explanation—meant the hardest part was always breaking into the basics.

But once that hurdle was cleared, high-intensity training made further improvement much more manageable.

Just like how Muen had already reached LV8 in [Dagger Combat Technique].

When it came to manipulating daggers, Muen considered himself no weaker than that maid-assassin from before.

Of course, he still had no hope of winning against her in the Black Book’s simulations—since cultivation stage and overall stats remained a massive gulf he had yet to cross.

"I still have a long way to go."

Muen withdrew his gaze and looked to his side.

There lay Rayne, sprawled on the ground, covered in blood. His body trembled faintly as he let out a low, painful groan from his throat.

Rayne’s eyes opened, filled with bewilderment.

"You're awake, Rayne?"

"Where... am I...?"

Rayne, overwhelmed by the searing pain tearing at his senses, struggled to turn his head toward his body.

His right hand was pinned to the floor with a regular fruit knife—its blade buried to the hilt in his palm. His other limbs were all twisted at unnatural angles. He tried to move, only to find the pain intensifying into something near maddening—but there was no response from his body.

"Sorry, you were way too scary just now," Muen said softly. "So I had to temporarily revoke your ability to move."

"Do you remember what just happened?"

"I..."

Rayne stared blankly, his blood-cracked lips quivering.

Of course he remembered.

He’d let the wolf into the fold—led a group of cultists into the dorms to find Muen.

He’d fought Muen Campbell—and ended up like this.

And before all that...

He’d been sneaking into other boys’ dorms, stealing their underwear, and collecting them like precious treasure—going so far as to padlock a regular wardrobe with a dozen locks.

But the real question was...

Why had he done all that?

Why had he hurt his fellow students?

Why had he joined those cultists?

And most of all...

Why had he done something so depraved?

He’d always dreamed of having a cute girlfriend.

He wasn’t gay.

"Looks like you’re finally lucid again."

Muen stared directly into Rayne’s eyes and, upon seeing the madness and fury gone from them, let out a long sigh of relief.

"But sorry. I still can’t let you go just yet. I can’t be sure the Evil God’s influence is really gone."

"I’m sorry... Muen..."

Once he finally understood everything that had happened, Rayne began to sob uncontrollably.

His heart filled with overwhelming remorse. He didn’t know why he had done those things—but he knew they were all wrong.

"It’s alright. I don’t blame you."

Muen smiled, and under the light outside, his handsomely proportioned face almost seemed to glow.

"Do you remember when you started becoming like this?"

"When...?"

Rayne fell into thought.

"Probably... sometime before the semester started...

I was wandering the streets... and someone was handing out flyers...

The flyer said it would help you become more popular, that it could help you find true love...

So... I went. I don’t remember exactly where.

After I got there, there was this high priest... he said something to me...

Then... I just felt like... well, if I couldn’t get a girlfriend anyway... maybe liking men wasn’t so bad...?

And then when I came to, I was already back at the academy.

During the day, I didn’t feel anything was off. I thought it had all been just a stupid dream.

But every night... I couldn’t control myself... and I’d do those things...

And back then... when those people appeared in front of me... I was dazed the whole time... like... I wasn’t even myself.

Even during our fight, Muen... there was this rage boiling in my chest. Like everything you said... had tainted my love."

"So it was like that, huh?"

Hearing this, Muen let out a faint sigh—but also couldn’t help a relieved smile.

"A small mercy in all this: you were only being controlled. You weren’t truly corrupted by the Evil God—or at least, not deeply."

Like Ailuka, or that high priest before, those polluted # Nоvеlight # by the Love God always had one defining trait: when driven to desperation or emotional collapse, they would transform into grotesque monsters.

It was the outward manifestation of a completely twisted soul—the mark of divine corruption embedded in their bones.

But Rayne didn’t transform. His physical changes seemed more like a martial technique—or perhaps a natural ability.

And the fact that he could become conscious again proved he wasn’t beyond saving.

"I really am sorry... I just... I just wanted a cute girlfriend, that’s all."

Rayne kept apologizing, tears and snot running down his face, mixing with the blood. He looked utterly pathetic.

Only now, with the Evil God’s influence fading, did his real self show before Muen.

Not an angry pervert. Not a twisted closet case.

Just a boy—a perfectly ordinary boy—desperate for the affection of cute girls, and struggling with how to get it.

"I see. In that case, as the academy’s most notorious playboy, I’ll teach you how to win a girl’s heart."

"Huh?"

Rayne hadn’t yet processed what Muen meant when he suddenly stood and looked out the corridor window.

Under beams of glaring searchlight-like magic, down below the dormitory, a giant twisted creature was roaring in agony.

It was the high priest.

Driven to a dead end by Ariel and the elite Student Council members who had rushed to support her, the high priest, just like Ailuka before him, had devoured other muscle-bound men and transformed into this hulking, repulsive monster.

But unlike before, this was Saint Maria Academy—renowned for its mages.

A beast that huge was a sitting target.

Under a furious barrage of area-covering magic attacks, no matter how fast the high priest healed, his flesh was soon torn apart—cracks forming across his massive body.

The source of the corruption—a thick divine tome—rose and sank within the beast’s meat, as if trying to avoid the spellfire like it had a will of its own.

But once the source showed itself, there was no excuse to let it escape.

Muen crouched down, picked up the horse-slaying saber from the floor, and stepped toward the shattered window.

"Oh, right."

Just before leaping, Muen seemed to remember something. He turned back to Rayne and gestured toward his ear.

"Your ear—clean slice. If you get healing magic in time, it should be recoverable. So no need to worry about it ruining your looks."

"Muen..."

"So now... watch carefully."

Muen smiled, turned back, and hurled himself from the upper floor, straight toward the monster.

"Rule number one of how to win a cute girl’s heart—

—Never waste a single chance to look cool!"