Once the freshman oath concluded, an elegant woman stepped onto the stage.
It was Choi Ara, Chairman of the Academy University.
“New students, I offer you my sincere welcome to this glorious occasion.
From this day forward you will carry out the most vital mission this nation has ever known: to serve great men, receive their genes, and ensure the prosperity of humankind.
This academy will remake you into the finest wives any man could choose.
Wear that pride openly and join us on this great journey.”
Her voice was soft yet commanding; the women answered with thunderous applause.
The next person to take the podium radiated an entirely different atmosphere.
Student Council President Choi Seoa.
The moment she appeared, the air inside the auditorium grew hotter.
Waves of admiration and envy rolled through the seats.
A glossy brown ponytail, a body without a single ounce of excess fat, and underwear so skimpy it barely covered anything at all.
“Hot” was nowhere near strong enough for a figure like hers.
“Freshmen.”
Choi Seoa’s voice was cold and razor-sharp.
“As the Chairman said, you came here to become the best wives possible.
Do not misunderstand.
University is not a playground.”
Her gaze swept slowly across the audience.
“Every one of you is a rival to the others.
Only the most outstanding, the most devoted, and the most alluring woman will earn a man’s choice and the right to become a wife.
Laziness and complacency mean elimination.
Remember that—remember what it means to grow old alone, never chosen by any man.”
At her icy words the hall fell so silent not even a breath could be heard.
Then, mid-speech, Seoa’s eyes locked straight onto mine where I sat.
Every other woman’s gaze burned with heat and desire; hers was something else entirely.
Open, cutting hatred lived inside those eyes.
What the hell…?
My brow furrowed on its own.
Had I done something wrong?
Before I could even think, she was already addressing the entire freshman body again.
“Finally, we will conclude the entrance ceremony by reciting together the contract you will uphold for the rest of your lives.”
She raised a hand.
Massive characters flared across the giant screen at the front of the auditorium.
OFFICIAL DOCUMENT
Master Contract
Contract Regarding Family Inclusion and Protection
“What’s that?” I asked Chaerin beside me.
“Marriage contract.
That’s the official name, but everyone just calls it the Master Contract.”
She answered as if it were nothing.
The text glowing on the screen was anything but nothing.
Student Council President Choi Seoa’s clear voice began reciting the clauses one by one, and every woman in the hall chanted them back like machines.
“Article 1.
Upon conclusion of the contract, all tangible and intangible assets of the female contractor shall vest completely in the male head of household.”
“Article 2.
The contractor shall have no right to refuse any sexual demand of the head of household; the head of household shall possess the right of discipline for the purpose of maintaining household order.”
“Article 3.
The contractor shall have no freedom of residence or social activity without the permission of the head of household.”
“Article 4.
The woman may never terminate this contract, yet the head of household may release the contractor at any time.”
The more I heard, the wider my mouth fell open.
Complete surrender of property, body, and freedom.
A one-sided contract that let a husband discard her whenever his mood shifted.
This was simply a slavery contract.
Yet unlike my stunned reaction, the faces of the women reciting those clauses shone with reverence and glory—as if they were knights receiving the highest honor.
In the middle of that surreal spectacle I looked once more at Student Council President Choi Seoa.
She still gazed down at the seats with an expression of pure ice.
And I saw it clearly: her contemptuous eyes locked onto me again, dead center.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
I was about to enter Class 1-1 with Chaerin and Subin for our upcoming lessons.
The moment I appeared, the hallway parted as if on cue.
With every step I took, the women standing there silently stepped aside to clear a path.
Not one of them turned their back on me.
They pressed themselves against the walls and twisted only their faces to follow my every movement.
“…That guy’s in Class 1.”
“He’s a real man…”
“I wish I’d been assigned to Class 1.”
“He’s even better-looking than the guy in our class.”
The voices that barely escaped among the women were pure admiration and sighs.
I had never felt anything like this before.
Before the transmigration I had been transparent—someone no one ever noticed in a crowd.
Even locking eyes with another person had been rare; now dozens of gazes clung to my body alone.
My shoulders straightened of their own accord.
A pleasant shiver ran down my spine.
So this is the weight a man carries in this world.
Before stepping into the classroom marked 1-1 I asked Chaerin why an academy university even had homerooms.
She explained that they split into classes because everyone had to take four hours of sex education every single day, and after lunch each student went to the classroom of her chosen major.
Incidentally, as a man I had no major.
After lunch I could go home or wait for the girls—whatever I wanted.
Hearing about majors actually made it feel like a real university.
Just a peculiar university with class divisions.
The second I, the only man, walked in, every soft sound inside the room cut off at once.
The classroom was like a stage.
Roughly twenty women sat in various postures and outfits.
Yet every single choice of theirs pointed to one purpose: seduction.
Their poses, their clothes—everything was designed to lure a man.
I glanced casually at a girl near the front door.
First I saw a skirt riding dangerously high on her thighs.
The seated position made the already short length look even more precarious.
When the fluorescent light hit the smooth legs exposed beneath the skirt, the silhouette of her underwear showed through.
On the other side a girl boldly displaying rock-hard abs watched me with her arms crossed.
Every breath made those sharp eleven-pack muscles shift ever so slightly.
The healthy sexiness radiating from a well-trained body heated the classroom air.
The girl next to her had deliberately left her blouse half-unbuttoned.
The deep valley of her cleavage flashing between the buttons dragged my attention in.
They were flaunting their most attractive features, and every last gaze was aimed at the man who had just arrived—me.
While I was still reeling, Chaerin took a seat by the window.
She propped her chin and stared outside as if uninterested, but her profile was rigid with tension.
Having so many women targeting me clearly rattled her.