Absolute Loser Becomes The Pleasure King Using Satan System

Chapter 109: 109.The chaotic dinner-1

The heavy oak door of the Head of Discipline’s office felt more like a cage than a workplace.

"I truly believe your presence is required, Miss Chloe," Professor Hearth said, his voice smooth, cultured, and entirely too close.

He leaned against the edge of his mahogany desk, trapping her in the small space between the leather guest chairs. His eyes scanned her from head to toe, lingering just a second too long on the curve of her waist.

"The fresher’s party is a critical networking event," Hearth continued, taking a slow, deliberate step forward. "It sets the tone for the entire year. The students need to see a united front from the disciplinary committee. They need to see us."

Chloe took a subtle half-step back, clutching a stack of files tightly to her chest like a shield.

"Professor, I have an immense backlog of incident reports to finalize," she replied, fighting to keep her voice perfectly professional and detached. "I’m not sure a loud college party is the best use of my time."

Hearth smiled, though the warmth never reached his eyes. He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing the sleeve of her blouse.

"I insist, Chloe," he murmured, his tone dropping into a patronizingly intimate register. "You work entirely too hard. You need to let your hair down. I would personally make sure you have a... wonderful evening."

A cold chill crawled up her spine. The unspoken implications hung heavy and suffocating in the air of the office.

"I will... think about it a little more, Professor," Chloe managed to say, stepping cleanly out of his reach. "I need to check on the hallway patrols now. Excuse me."

Before he could press the issue any further, she turned on her heel and practically fled through the door.

The moment the heavy door clicked shut behind her, Chloe let out a shaky, ragged breath. She leaned back against the cool corridor wall, closing her eyes as she tried to scrub the phantom sensation of his fingers off her sleeve.

How long can I keep dodging him like this? she thought, her chest tightening with quiet dread. He’s cornering me.

Taking a deep breath, she forced her eyes open, smoothed out her skirt, and pasted her composed, deputy-head mask back onto her face. She began walking briskly down the sunlit corridor, eager to put as much distance between herself and Hearth’s office as possible.

"Miss Chloe."

The calm, steady voice cut through the lingering anxiety in her head.

Chloe paused and looked up.

Walking down the corridor toward her, hands casually shoved into his pockets, was Mylo. His dark hair was slightly messy, and there was a faint exhaustion in his posture, but his gaze was clear, sharp, and entirely focused on her.

The suffocating tension in her chest evaporated almost instantly, replaced by a sudden, inexplicable wave of relief.

"Mylo," she breathed out, her strict professional facade melting into a genuine, tired smile.

He stopped in front of her, his dark eyes scanning her face. He didn’t miss the subtle tension in her shoulders or the way her fingers were white-knuckling the files against her chest.

​"You look like you just barely survived a hostage negotiation," Mylo said, tilting his head with a faint, teasing smirk. "Do I need to go beat someone up for you, Miss Chloe?"

​Chloe blinked, caught completely off guard, before a sudden, bright laugh escaped her lips. The heavy, suffocating feeling left by Professor Hearth vanished into thin air.

​"Don’t be ridiculous," she scolded lightly, though the blush rising to her cheeks betrayed her amusement. "It was just a very... tedious meeting. No physical violence required, thank you."

​"A shame. I was ready to throw hands for my favorite anchor," Mylo joked, stepping just half a pace closer. He watched her posture finally relax. "But since you’re safe, I actually came to ask you for a massive favor. It’s a crisis, honestly."

​Chloe sighed, shaking her head with a fond smile. "I should have known. What kind of trouble are you in now, Mylo?"

​"Domestic peril," Mylo said deadpan. "I just moved into my apartment, and my fridge is an absolute wasteland. I need groceries immediately, but I have a fatal flaw."

​"Which is?"

​"I have absolutely zero experience shopping for food," Mylo confessed, widening his eyes in exaggerated desperation. "I can’t tell cilantro from parsley. If I go in there alone, I’m going to panic, buy three boxes of sugary cereal, and probably starve by Tuesday. I need an adult. I need my anchor to come shopping with me."

​Chloe froze, her beautiful eyes widening as a furious shade of pink rushed all the way to the tips of her ears.

​"W-What?!" she stammered, frantically waving her free hand. "Mylo, I am the Deputy Head of Discipline! A faculty member cannot just casually stroll through the supermarket aisles with a freshman! It’s highly unorthodox! What if another student sees us?"

​"Then we’ll go to the big supermarket four blocks away from campus. No students ever go that far," Mylo countered smoothly, not giving her an inch to retreat. "It’s just vegetables, Miss Chloe. Consider it an extension of your duties. You’re saving a student from a terrible diet and imminent starvation."

​"That is not in my job description!" she protested, her professional tone completely cracking into a flustered squeak.

​"Please?" Mylo lowered his voice, locking his dark eyes onto hers with a soft, genuine sincerity that made her heart skip a beat. "I really don’t want to go alone. And... I’d really like to spend a little more time with you."

​Chloe’s breath hitched. She looked at his earnest expression, her mind completely short-circuiting under his direct, unapologetic charm. She bit her lower lip, desperately trying to find a valid excuse, but her resolve was already crumbling into dust.

​"You are... you are impossibly stubborn," she murmured, looking down at her sensible heels to hide her burning face.

​"I prefer the term ’dedicated’," Mylo smiled. "So, is that a yes?"

​Chloe let out a long, defeated sigh, though a tiny, helpless smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

​"Five o’clock," she said quietly, finally looking back up at him. "Meet me at the back gate of the campus. And if anyone asks, we merely bumped into each other in the produce aisle. Understood?"

​"Crystal clear," Mylo beamed, taking a step back. "I’ll be waiting for you, Miss Chloe. Don’t be late."

​"I’m a teacher, Mylo, I am never late," she huffed, adjusting her files as she tried to reclaim some shred of her dignity.

​Mylo just chuckled, giving her a playful two-finger salute before turning on his heel and walking down the corridor.

​Chloe stood glued to the floor, watching his back until he turned the corner. She brought a hand up to her chest, feeling the rapid, chaotic fluttering of her own heartbeat, completely forgetting all about Professor Hearth and the heavy dread from just five minutes ago.

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