"Alright," he muttered, crossing his legs. "I've got this system that rewards me for being... romantically aggressive. But what the hell can I actually do with these points?"
As if on cue — because the system had clearly been reading his thoughts like a thirsty stalker — two screens appeared above his right eye, each with dramatic gothic fonts and sparkles like they were trying to seduce him.
[The Shop of Debauchery]
[Exchange your hard-earned points for items, tools, and trinkets — both worldly and wildly inappropriate.]
[Debauchery to Strength]
[Convert debauchery into cold, hard power. Every 10 points equals 1 Attribute Point. Choose wisely. Or stupidly. That's also fun.]
"...Of course," Reed said, deadpan. "Because what's a magical world without microtransactions."
He tapped on [The Shop of Debauchery] out of pure curiosity, and the interface dramatically opened like a magic scroll, presenting a virtual catalog that looked like it belonged in the backroom of a shady adult store mashed with a medieval apothecary.
[Current Debauchery Points: 0]
[Items are organized by category: Kink Gear | Alchemical Curios | Battle Tools | Miscellaneous]
The first item featured in the rotating display like it was on QVC was none other than...
[Master's Midnight BDSM Set] – 1000 DP
[Includes enchanted ropes, cuffs, collars, blindfolds, a multifunctional crop, and a safeword-charm that prevents real injury. Comes in black leather blessed by a Lust Spirit. Boosts Charm +10 when equipped. May cause nosebleeds. Handle with kink-awareness.]
"…A thousand points?" Reed blinked. "Does this set unlock a dominatrix subclass or something?"
He scrolled down, only to be bombarded by a barrage of item names that seemed to exist solely to make his moral compass do backflips.
[Vibrating Pleasure Ring] – 100 DP
[Magically resonates with a partner's mana signature. Effects scale with Lust level. Great for dates, battles, and bathhouses. Warning: may distract casters during spell prep.]
[Pink Demon's Delight Dildo] – 150 DP
[Shaped by the hand of a Succubus artisan. Said to drain mana upon use and replenish stamina. For solo magic recharge only. Do not dual-wield.]
[Aphrodisiac Incense (Room-Grade)] – 80 DP
[Fills a room with a calming floral scent... that causes elevated heart rate, light-headedness, and increased skin sensitivity. Good for seduction. Bad for tests.]
[Portable Love Shack (Tent)] – 250 DP
[Pop-up tent with spatial expansion magic. Soundproof. Waterproof. Shag-proof. Comes with mood lighting. Limited use: 3 activations per recharge.]
Reed slowly exhaled. "I'm either building a harem… or a lawsuit."
Still, not everything was ridiculous.
Scrolling further down brought him to the more practical section.
[Stamina Potion] – 30 DP
[Restores physical energy. Can be used for combat or... adult cardio. May cause short bursts of hyperactivity.]
[Lust Recovery Tea] – 25 DP
[Reduces lust meter for partners who are too overwhelmed. Grants mental clarity and resets romantic cooldowns. Also helps with headaches.]
[Minor Healing Potion] – 40 DP
[Restores minor wounds and fatigue. Best used after sparring — or other strenuous activities.]
[Steel-Tip Combat Gloves] – 100 DP
[Fingerless gloves enchanted for close-quarter combat. Boost Strength +2. Durable and sexy.]
[Moonlit Blade (Uncommon)] – 250 DP
[A short sword imbued with silver mana. Boosts Dark affinity by +5%. Can be hidden in a coat. Glows under moonlight.]
"Now we're talking," Reed muttered. "Useful stuff. Mixed in with... whatever the hell the 'Love Shack Tent' is."
His fingers hovered over the [Debauchery to Strength] tab next. With a quick tap, the screen switched to a clean stat conversion menu.
[Convert Debauchery Points to Attributes]
[10 DP = 1 Attribute Point.]
[Attributes Available: Strength | Agility | Magic | Endurance | Charm | Luck]
[Note]
[Each point adds significant value. Conversion is permanent. Choose wisely, because even horny stats are stats.]
"It seems like this world actually likes me," Reed whispered. "With the system, I could sex my way into being a god probably."
He could already imagine it.
A lean, muscular Reed dodging lightning spells with inhuman speed, charming the enemy's general into defecting mid-battle, and casually slicing a dragon's tail with a weapon forged from aphrodisiac potions and broken dreams.
"No grinding slimes or begging nobles for training… Just seduction and biceps."
It sounded stupid. It sounded absurd.
But It sounded like freedom.
A chirp from his academy wristband reminded him of reality.
The small metal circle attached to his left wrist blinked gently in a pale blue hue — class was about to begin in twenty minutes.
Reed dismissed the shop tabs and stood, adjusting his uniform before walking toward his first class of the day, The Weapon Class.
...
Solvanyr Academy was a fortress of ambition.
Students didn't just learn magic or strategy — they molded themselves for the future they wanted, or more accurately, the future they could survive in.
Out of the academy's extensive curriculum, three classes were non-negotiable: Magic Theory, Mystical Combat Application, and Ethics in Sorcery.
Everything else? Elective.
And that was why Reed Arkwright, despite his pitiful mana pool had registered for Weapon Class.
The class was located in one of the older wings of Solvanyr — a large stone structure that looked like a coliseum crossed with a dojo.
Unlike the rest of the classrooms, which had chalkboards and tiered seating, this one had racks of weapons along every wall and a floor made of enchantment-infused wood that healed dents and scuffs automatically.
When Reed walked in, all eyes locked onto him.
He was used to being ignored or scowled at.
But now? Now people stared.
Some out of curiosity, others out of straight up dislike.
A few noble brats already had smirks on their faces, waiting for the "weakest student" to humiliate himself.
One whispered, "Look who finally decided to die today."
Another added, "Maybe he thinks swinging a sword will make him a noble."
'Noble brats really are like how they're shown in novels, bunch of wastes.' Reed thought.
He didn't particularly dislike nobles but damn did he hate their guts, they always looked down on people especially commoners and they wouldn't hesitate to discriminate people based on their blood... It was the only cliché that made his blood boil.
But he had to stop thinking as the door at the far end of the room opened, and silence fell like a divine decree.
Professor Thalvorr strode in.
He was shirtless as usual which immediately drew attention from a few girls and even a couple of the boys.
But his muscle definition wasn't the kind you got from magic-enhanced workouts or enchantments.
No, this man had earned his body the old-fashioned way.