I stared at my fingers. They were slick, glistening with the evidence of my surrender, catching what little light remained in the room. A part of me the part that still remembered being a twenty year old man who valued dignity above all else was screaming in horror.
But the body I inhabited was still humming, still vibrating from the aftershocks of that orgasm. The instinct was stronger than the memory.
Hesitantly, almost hypnotically, I lifted my hand. I watched in the mirror as I brought those wet fingers to my lips. I tasted myself. The salt, the heat, the overwhelming reality of what I had just done. I licked them clean, swallowing hard.
Then, reality crashed back down.
"What the fuck was I doing?!" I hissed, yanking my hand away from my mouth as if I'd been burned. "What kind of sick fuck am I becoming?!"
My face was so hot I was surprised it didn't spontaneously combust. I frantically wiped my fingers on the already damp mattress behind me, desperate to clean myself, desperate to erase the evidence. I needed to breathe. I needed to stop feeling like a walking contradiction.
"I did it. I... I masturbated." The words felt heavy and foreign in my mouth, spoken in a shameful whisper.
As I lay there, trying to slow my racing heart, a strange, uncomfortable twinge of guilt gnawed at me. It wasn't just shame about the act itself; it was the terrifying realization that I was drifting further and further away from the man I used to be. Every time I surrendered to this body's desires, the memory of my old self felt a little more like a dream, and this this lewd, sensitive, beautiful reality felt more like the truth.
Still... I couldn't regret it.
I had made a tactical decision. I had assessed the market, identified the most valuable asset, and executed a transaction to acquire it. I was a business major, after all.
And as I remembered the expression in the mirror the flushed cheeks, the unfocused eyes, the way I had looked completely undone by my own touch a cold fear settled in my gut. The skill wasn't just a luxury. It was a necessity. If I couldn't even control my own reactions when I was alone, how the hell was I supposed to maintain my composure when a Conqueror decided to put his hands on me? If I couldn't hide my pleasure from myself, I would never be able to hide it from them.
"I was scared," I admitted to the empty room. "And being scared means I'm vulnerable."
I sat up, the cool air of the room helping to ground me. I slapped both my cheeks lightly, the sting helping to clear the post orgasmic fog.
"Come on, Ellen. Get it together. You had no choice. You were alone. It's fine."
I moved mechanically, gathering my discarded uniform and wiping down the bedsheets as best I could before changing into simple, loose nightwear. I needed to reassemble myself. Tomorrow was another day of pretending to be an Ice Queen.
Once I was settled and the room felt quiet again, I summoned the System. My pulse quickened as I navigated to the skill purchase menu.
"Okay. Let's do this."
[ SP SHOP ]
[ Purchase: Expression Suppression Tier 3 ]
[ Cost: 3,000 SP ]
[ Current SP: 3,000 ]
[ Confirm Purchase? ]
I didn't hesitate. I pressed [CONFIRM].
A wave of golden energy washed over me. It didn't feel like heat or power; it felt like a cold, soothing numbness spreading through my facial muscles, through my nerves, settling into my very bones. It was as if a layer of frost had been applied to my soul, stabilizing everything beneath it.
I tested it immediately. I thought of something embarrassing, something humiliating, something that should have made me flush crimson. My face remained perfectly still. I thought of something terrifying. My breathing remained steady. I even imagined someone touching me in a way that would normally send me into hysterics.
My expression remained glacial. Neutral. Untouchable.
"Success," I whispered. My voice was steady, devoid of any tremor.
The mask was finally real. The Ice Queen was no longer a performance; she was a weapon.
I opened my Status Window, wanting to see the damage report or rather, the upgrade report of my first full day as Ellen Frost.
The familiar translucent panel unfolded before my eyes.
◈ PURITY PRESERVATION SYSTEM ◈
Host: ELLEN FROST
Institution: Ertenaria Academy / Year 1 / Rank #2
Combat Rank: D
Rank Limit: SS
Beauty: SS
Body Traits:
▸ [Third Rate Sensitivity Passive]
Skills:
▸ [UNBINDING Unique]
▸ [Expression Suppression Tier 3]
SP (System Points): 0
Purity Status: Virgin
⚠ THREAT: WORLD EATER Estimated ETA: ~3 Years
Required Rank to Intervene: TRANSCENDENT
Current Rank: D
I read through it slowly, cataloging everything like a manager reviewing the end of day ledger.
Day one. Let's audit.
[UNBINDING] my Unique Skill, the contract immunity. My insurance policy against every predatory paperwork trap this world would throw at me. Untouched. Tested zero times. That was going to change soon whether I liked it or not.
[Expression Suppression Tier 3]the big one. The skill I had screamed at, panicked over, and ultimately... financed through alternative means. I looked at the words "Break under climax" and felt my stomach do a small, complicated flip.
So that's the weakness. The mask holds under everything harassment, stress, arousal, all of it right up until the moment of actual release. Which means the only way to break my face is to break me completely.
...Which is exactly what the Conquerors in this game specialize in.
Great. A fortress with one door. At least I know where the door is. Knowledge is defense. Probably. Hopefully.
SP: 0.Broke again. Spent everything in one day like a college student with a fresh loan. Fitting, honestly. Some things survive transmigration.
Purity Status: Virgin.Still true. The system's precious little metric remains intact. Technically my own hands don't count. The system agrees with me on this, which means the system and I have an understanding: solo operations are maintenance, not conquest.
Good. Keep that policy, System. We're aligned.
And then the last lines. The ones that never changed no matter what I did today.
⚠ WORLD EATER. Three years. Current Rank: D.
I stared at that gap. D to Transcendent. A distance so absurd it made everything else I'd done today the screaming, the panic, the transactional solo session feel like arranging deck chairs.
Three years. One impossible rank. One body that was literally designed by this game to be destroyed.
I closed the window and flopped back onto my bed, staring at the ceiling.
"Day one," I told the dark. "Status: alive, virgin, broke, and slightly less likely to melt in public."
Tomorrow: classes, Aya's noise, and the beginning of the actual plan. Source B. The heroines. The Conquerors. The empire.
...After I sleep for approximately twelve hours. Saving the world is exhausting and I haven't even left the dorm yet.
***
Honestly, [Expression Suppression Tier 3] was nothing short of a miracle. It was a gift sent from whatever god or sadistic system had placed me in this body.
Over the next few days, I discovered its true value. The Academy was a shark tank, and I was the most appetizing thing in the water. The stares were relentless. I could feel the heat of lewd glances on my skin like physical pressure, and yes, my lower abdomen still reacted to the attention, sending those traitorous, tingling waves through my pelvis. But the difference now was that I didn't have to fight to hide it. My face remained a perfect, glacial mask of indifference while my insides were doing Olympic gymnastics. I could sit through a lecture while someone stared at my cleavage with shameless hunger, and to the rest of the world, I just looked bored. It was liberating.
"No, no, Ellen, you don't understand!" Aya said, her hands waving animatedly as we sat in our classroom. "The Ice Bear's mana circulatory system is adapted for thermal retention, which means its magical output is more concentrated, but the Fire Bear's core burns through mana three times faster to maintain its external temperature! They're completely different evolutionary paths!"
I blinked at her, my face as unreadable as a stone wall. "Aya, they both look like giant, angry balls of fluff that bite your head off. Can we please talk about something that doesn't involve monster digestive systems?"
"But the implications for potion brewing are fascinating!" she insisted, leaning closer, her green eyes bright with excitement. "If we can synthesize the coolant from an Ice Bear's bile, we could create a "
"A better way to freeze things? Yeah, I get it." I cut her off gently. "But unless that bile can help me pass my next exam, I think my brain has reached its quota for monster anatomy today."
"You're so pragmatic," Aya sighed, though she didn't seem offended. "That's why you're so good at combat."
Before I could respond, the door slid open and our homeroom teacher stepped in. He was a solid, scarred looking man who moved with the economical grace of someone who had survived more than one Gate incident. He dropped a thick attendance sheet onto his desk with a definitive thwack.
"Alright, settle down," he announced, his voice cutting through Aya's enthusiasm like a blade. "I know you all think this is a social club, but you're here to become heroes. And heroes don't spend their days chatting like high schoolers."
A few students groaned, but the room went quiet quickly. The teacher's eyes swept over us, landing on me for a split second before moving on.
"Today is Combat Practice," he said, his tone hardening. "We're going to see how many of you actually have the nerve to channel your mana under pressure. Meet me at the gymnasium in ten minutes. And bring your gear. If you're late, you're doing laps until you vomit."
As he turned to leave, Aya turned to me, grinning. "Combat practice! Finally! I wonder if we'll get to use elemental projection today? I've been wanting to test my new mana conductive gloves "
"Just try not to blow yourself up, Aya," I interrupted, already gathering my things. The mask was on, but internally, I was bracing myself.
Combat practice meant showing off. It meant mana exposure. And in this world, mana exposure was the first step toward being noticed by the wrong kind of people.
Okay, Ellen. First real test of the week. Let's see if the Ice Queen can actually fight as well as she pretends to.