The bell rang, signaling the start of the first period: Mana Theory.
Professor Cassandra didn’t believe in warm-ups. She marched to the podium, chalk in hand, and immediately began explaining the fundamentals of mana flow in high-density environments.
"The vector of the mana stream is inversely proportional to the resistance of the conduit," she lectured, writing furiously on the board.
Nobody was looking at the chalkboard. Not a single soul. Well atleast none of the boys did.
Every male eye in the room was locked onto her back. Or, more specifically, the side profile of her chest.
As she reached up to write near the top of the board, the fabric of her brown blouse pulled tight. Painfully tight. The single button holding the shirt together was the real hero of the Academy. It was fighting a war against gravity, torque, and sheer volume—a war it was destined to lose.
The tension in the room was palpable. The boys were leaning forward, silently cheering for physics to do its job.
Snap.
It happened.
Cassandra stretched just a little too far to write a square root symbol. The button gave up the ghost. It popped off with the velocity of a bullet, flying across the room.
Ping.
It ricocheted off Lauren’s forehead. He didn’t even flinch; he just looked grateful to be hit.
"Oh," Cassandra muttered, glancing down as the cool air hit her skin.
Her blouse fell open.
It wasn’t a small peek. It was a grand reveal.
She was wearing a black lace push-up bra that was doing heavy lifting. The top halves of her breasts were completely exposed to the class—pale, heavy, and jiggling softly from the sudden release of tension.
The room went dead silent.
Did she scream? Did she cover up in a panic? Did she blush?
No. This was Cassandra Thomas.
She looked down at her chest, then up at the class of ogling boys. She didn’t even bother to pull the fabric together (mostly because the button was currently rolling under a desk).
"Pay attention," Cassandra said coolly, adjusting her glasses with one hand while tapping the board with the other. "The formula for mana dispersal is more important than my lingerie."
"YES, PROFESSOR!" the boys shouted in unison.
Quills scratched furiously against parchment. They were supposedly taking notes, but Alex was pretty sure half the class was sketching her cleavage.
"Good."
She turned back to the board.
Clack.
She dropped the chalk.
"Oops," she murmured.
She stepped back. She didn’t squat. She didn’t bend at the knees like a lady. She bent at the waist. Straight-legged.
Her pencil skirt, already dangerously tight, stretched to its absolute limit. The fabric clung to her ass cheeks, outlining every curve with high-definition precision. As she reached down, the skirt rode up, inch by agonizing inch, revealing the tops of her sheer black stockings and the garters biting into her thick thighs.
Hhhhhhh...
The sound of thirty boys inhaling at once sucked the oxygen out of the room.
"Heaven," Hanks whispered, a single tear rolling down his cheek. "Education is beautiful."
****
The second period was Alchemy & Potions.
The students moved to the laboratory in the basement. The atmosphere here was different. The air was thick, humid, and smelled of sulfur, crushed mint, and something that smelled suspiciously like burnt sugar.
The heavy iron door creaked open.
"Sorry! I’m late! The experiment... the slime... it exploded!"
The teacher stumbled in.
She was a mess. A beautiful, catastrophic mess.
Professor Sylvia.
Alex recognized her immediately. She was a supporting character in the game, a fan favorite on the forums for her "Gap Moe."
She was a genius—a generational talent in alchemy who had invented potions that revolutionized the Empire. But if Alex had to describe her in RPG terms, she was a character who had dumped every single stat point into Intelligence and Alchemy, leaving Dexterity and Social Awareness at a hard zero.
She looked like she had been living in the lab for a week.
Her lab coat was stained with purple and green fluids. Underneath, she wore a white dress shirt that was buttoned wrong, so one side hung lower than the other. It was unbuttoned almost to her navel, revealing a beige bra that had seen better days.
But the real tragedy—or miracle—was her skirt.
It was twisted sideways, the zipper halfway down her hip. The hem was caught in her underwear, hiking the skirt up on the left side so her entire flank was exposed.
"Okay, class!" Sylvia chirped, pushing her messy, frizzy blonde hair out of her face. She had a smudge of soot on her nose. "Today we are making... um... what are we making?"
She bent over her desk, rummaging through a pile of chaotic papers.
Because her skirt was tucked into her panties, the view from the front row was... unobstructed.
She was wearing white cotton panties. With a little bear print on the butt.
"She’s not wearing an underskirt," Alex noted, admiring the sheer lack of common sense. "She is completely oblivious."
"Is she... is she okay?" a female student whispered, concerned. "She smells like week-old coffee and gunpowder."
"She’s a genius," Alex corrected. "She’s just... high-maintenance."
Sylvia finally found her notes, triumphantly holding up a crumpled piece of paper. "Right! Stamina Potions! I have a new recipe!"
She grabbed an armful of glass vials and ingredients from the shelf. Way too many for two hands.
"I just need to mix the Mandrake root with the... woah!"
THUD.
It happened in slow motion.
She tripped on absolutely nothing. The flat floor defeated her.
She fell forward onto the raised teaching platform. The vials flew into the air, raining down colorful liquid like confetti.
Sylvia face-planted. Her ass went up in the air.
And because physics in this world ran on the "Ecchi Engine," her skirt flipped forward over her back.
She lay there in the classic "Jack-o’-Lantern" pose. Face on the floor, butt high in the air, legs spread slightly.
The little cartoon bear on her panties stared directly at the class, mocking them.
"Ugh..." Sylvia groaned from the floor, her voice muffled by the wood. "I spilled the mandrake..."
The class was silent. The boys were leaning forward, eyes glued to the display. Even the girls were blushing.
"Professor?" Alex called out, trying not to laugh. "Are you alright?"
Sylvia lifted her head. Her glasses were crooked, hanging off one ear. She didn’t pull her skirt down. She didn’t seem to realize her ass was serving as a beacon of hope for the male student body.
"I’m fine!" she beamed, a trickle of blue potion running down her cheek. "But I think I bruised my hip. Can someone check?"
She wiggled her hips to demonstrate the pain. The bear print danced.
"I volunteer!" Hanks shouted, standing up so fast his chair fell over backward.
Alex shook his head, burying his face in his hands.
Why was she a side character? he wondered. With clumsiness this powerful, she has Main Heroine energy.