Tokyo: I'm bound to the evil women!

Fujiwara Matsu recognized the voice somewhat, as they were classmates, but its appearance at this time was truly...

Fujiwara Matsu looked up and saw Chiya Misaki standing gracefully below the steps, her eyes gentle, but she had already taken out her phone.

"Snap!"

The shutter clicked, and before Fujiwara Matsu could even make a move, the scene was captured.

It’s over.

He felt that his campus life had come to an end prematurely.

The girl's footsteps echoed softly against Fujiwara Matsu's chest as she walked to his side.

"What is this?"

She naturally took the stockings from Fujiwara Matsuo's hand, and he did not stop her.

He knew that there was no point in trying to stop them; now, the best course of action was to punish those who resisted and to be lenient those who confessed.

Chiya Mio examined the item for a moment, then moved closer to Fujiwara Matsu. Even when Fujiwara Matsu turned his face away, he couldn't get her face out of his sight.

Because they were so close, the scent of Mio Chiya's perfume lingered around Fujiwara Matsu's nose.

"Why are my missing socks with you, Fujiwara-kun?"

Fujiwara Matsu's Adam's apple bobbed up and down, and he opened his mouth but couldn't utter a single word for a long time.

"If I said it was an accident, Chiya-kun, would you believe me?"

"Fujiwara-kun is eating very well."

Silently, Fujiwara Matsu took another bite of bread. Chiya Misaki chuckled softly, walked past Fujiwara Matsu, and used her key to unlock the door on the rooftop.

Perhaps this is part of the privileges afforded to young ladies.

Turning his head, he watched as Chiya Misaki walked onto the rooftop, and Fujiwara Matsu got up, intending to sneak away.

"Fujiwara-kun? Where do you want to go?"

He hadn't taken two steps when Chiya Mio called him back. He turned around and gave her a bright smile:

"Chiya-kun, since you want to..."

"Fujiwara-kun, if you don't want the whole school to know you stole my socks tomorrow, you'd better not leave."

Fujiwara Matsu wasn't really ready to experience social death yet, so he turned around and followed Chiya Mio.

He stepped onto the rooftop, which was clean and did not show any signs of decay due to abandonment. There was a set of tables and chairs and a parasol placed by the railing, which was obviously placed there by this young lady for herself.

Behind her, she heard the sound of a door closing softly, followed by the click of a lock. Chiya Mio had locked the rooftop door.

There are only two people here right now.

Chiya Mio naturally sat down at the table and placed her bento on the table, eating slowly and deliberately, as if she didn't care about Fujiwara Matsu's presence at all.

With only one chair, Fujiwara Matsu could only lean against the railing and watch Chiya Mio's movements.

"Chiya-kun, why did you keep me here?"

She put down her utensils, swallowed what was in her mouth, and looked up at Fujiwara Matsu:

"Fujiwara-kun, can you tell me when you got my socks?"

Can I say that the system gave it to me?

Such an outrageous answer was so absurd that even Fujiwara Matsu felt a chill run down his spine, let alone whether Chiya Mio would believe it.

Therefore, Fujiwara Matsu chose to remain silent.

"Aren't you going to tell me? Fujiwara-kun, are you sure?"

Faced with the girl's clearly threatening words, Fujiwara Matsu sighed helplessly:

"I just found it, Chiya-kun, I don't know anything about it either."

"To be able to get my personal belongings without being noticed, Fujiwara-kun seems to have some extraordinary talents besides his studies."

Who wants this kind of talent!

"Well, it seems that Fujiwara-kun is quite valuable after all."

"Fujiwara-kun—would you like to be my slave?"

Chiya Mio put down her chopsticks, tilted her head to look at him, and blinked slightly, as if what she had just said was not something lewd, but rather a natural act of coquetry.

The task in his mind, combined with the smile of the girl in front of him, left Fujiwara Matsu with only one thought in his mind—to agree to her, it wouldn't do you any harm.

But he refused.

Both the current situation and his rationality told him that he could not, and should not, agree so easily.

"Chiya-kun, you should know how many people would flock to you if you said that, right? Even girls would agree."

"So, it's your honor, Fujiwara-kun."

The girl proudly raised her head, like a proud swan, revealing her perfect jawline and neck.

"However, please excuse me for refusing, but if you're going to do this, shouldn't you at least pay a price?"

"Fujiwara-kun, you should know the consequences of rejecting me, right?"

"If it's just about ruining my reputation in the academy, I can bear that price."

Chiya Mio raised an eyebrow, revealing an expression of great interest.

"It seems that Fujiwara-kun is unwilling."

"Chiya-kun, besides this threat, what other offer do you have that could sway me? And why me?"

The girl's beautiful eyes were obscured by the shadow of the parasol, making it difficult to discern the expression in them.

Her gaze fell on the stockings she had placed on the table. She stood up, took something, and stuffed it into Fujiwara Matsu's hand:

"I can give Fujiwara-kun some of the rewards you've always dreamed of."

"As for why I chose you?"

She chuckled softly, a sly glint in her eyes:

"Of course, it's because Fujiwara-kun is now an 'accomplice.' If word gets out, no one will believe your innocence."

Fujiwara Matsu understood what Chiya Mio meant. No one would believe anything a pervert who stole her socks would say about her.

It was precisely because of this that Chiya Mio showed him a side of herself that was completely different from that of a "perfect young lady".

"But, it shouldn't be too difficult for Chiya-kun to find an 'accomplice,' right?"

"The search itself is risky. Although I don't know why my socks are with you—but having 'coincidentally' obtained them, aren't you the perfect 'accomplice' for me?"

When the girl said the word "coincidentally," the corners of her mouth curled up almost imperceptibly, as if she had encountered something interesting. He noticed this gesture.

happen?

This word made him realize two things: first, Chiyo Mio didn't know why the socks ended up in his hands; second, this was precisely the reason she chose him—

Because it's a coincidence, it's absolutely safe and controllable.

"So, Chiya-kun, what is this reward you're talking about?"

Chiya Mio looked around at her surroundings and picked up her phone to check the time.

"After school this afternoon, Fujiwara-kun, come to the literature club."

You'll find out then.

After saying that, she turned around and prepared to leave. Just as she was about to open the door, Fujiwara Matsu saw the bento box still on the table.

"Chiya-kun, your bento box..."

"You can have it, Fujiwara-kun. After all, one loaf of bread isn't enough for lunch. As my slave, you can't do that."

Looking down at the remaining bento and utensils of Chiya Mio, he couldn't help but think of the fact that she had already eaten.

Noticing his expression from afar, Chiya Mio turned back once more and whispered in his ear:

"Don't tell me, Fujiwara-kun, you're starting to fantasize about things because of the tableware I used and the food I ate?"

"How vulgar!"

"However, I'm granting you this privilege, so enjoy it!"

"Remember to give me your lunchbox after you finish eating. Oh, and this too."

"Remember to bring this with you when you come to the literary society."

Chiya Mio hooked the stocking in Fujiwara Matsushita's hand with her little finger, then left without looking back.

Sitting in the chair where Chiya Mio had just been, the lingering scent of the girl still hung in the air. He looked down at the bento box on the table—it looked and smelled delicious.

In comparison, the bread he had only taken a few bites of looked particularly shabby.

Fujiwara Matsu stared at the remaining bento boxes on the table and remained silent for a few seconds.

Throwing it away would seem guilty, while eating it would seem like admitting to something.

In the end, he simply covered the bento box carefully, put it in a bag along with the cutlery, and carried it in his hand.

He didn't want to leave any trace that could be misinterpreted until he figured out what the other party meant by "reward" and their purpose.

We cannot allow this to become a handle for the other party to use against us.