Simulator in Type-moon, Starting with becoming Morgan husband!

Chapter 105: Ophelia's "Seduction" Plan

A few days later, outside Ophelia's room.

Ian lightly knocked on the door marked with the number "016."

Unlike usual, this time, it wasn't Ian who sought Ophelia out; instead, she had texted him:

"Come to my room for a bit."

In fact, this seemed to be the first time she had done something like this.

Click.

The door opened.

Ophelia stood there, her face full of caution as she looked at Ian.

She spoke coldly:

"Did you come alone?"

"Mordred didn't follow you, right?"

"..."

Ian smiled calmly.

"Think about it—if you were a magus, wouldn't you sense if someone was following me?"

"True enough."

Ophelia stepped back, making way for Ian to enter.

"Come in."

Click.

The door closed again.

Ian glanced around the still tidy room and remarked:

"Ophelia, so you do know how to keep a room clean."

"Look, even though I haven't been here for a few days, everything's still in order."

"..."

Ophelia turned away, avoiding his gaze.

"Even if you say that, it doesn't make me particularly happy."

"Yeah, I know."

Ian turned back.

"So, what did you call me here for? If I recall, you didn't want us to stay in contact anymore."

Ian was spot-on.

With Ophelia's help, Ian had "successfully" summoned the Servant Mordred.

Even though the original goal wasn't entirely achieved, Ian had kept his promise not to visit her room again and even deliberately stayed out of her sight.

This made Ophelia realize:

He probably wasn't interested in her at all.

He was just acting to achieve his objective.

Thinking about this, Ophelia's face darkened, her expression full of displeasure.

"What's with your attitude…"

"Do you find seeing me that unpleasant?"

As she said this, Ophelia's gaze kept darting to a certain corner of the room.

Ian noticed but said nothing.

He shrugged.

"Of course, I don't find seeing you unpleasant."

"I'm just worried that seeing me makes you uncomfortable—in that case, it's better if I don't show up in the first place."

"Don't pretend."

Ophelia immediately countered.

"You're not kind enough to care about something like that… you must have another motive."

"Whether I have a motive or not doesn't really matter."

Ian looked straight at Ophelia.

"Miss Ophelia, did you call me here just to scold me?"

"If that's the case, I think you could've done it over the phone."

"After all, it can pick up sound—don't worry, I wouldn't hang up."

Ophelia, of course, realized the hidden meaning in Ian's words.

He was urging her to just get to the point.

She cleared her throat and spoke up:

"That being said, Ian, do you know if that sword has any additional magecraft on it?"

"Sword? Mordred's?"

"Yes," Ophelia nodded.

"It wouldn't be surprising if it does," Ian said as he looked at her. "After all, the sword itself belongs to a 'Servant.' Didn't you mention before that their very existence is a form of magecraft?"

"Logically, that's true."

Ophelia walked to the nearby bookshelf, took down a book, and quickly flipped to a certain page, confirming something.

"But Ian, this magecraft isn't something Mordred possesses naturally."

"You're saying someone placed magecraft on the sword, and it came to me as part of the 'Noble Phantasm' with the 'Servant'?"

"You…"

Ophelia frowned slightly.

"How did you know what I was going to say?"

"Because I've considered it as well," Ian replied honestly.

"Ophelia, are you worried about me?"

"Who's worried about you!" Ophelia snapped the book shut, glaring at Ian.

"Don't get so full of yourself."

"I'm only concerned that this unidentified magecraft might cause unpredictable changes."

"Then you can rest assured."

Ian responded without hesitation.

"I assure you, the magecraft on this sword poses no danger."

"Really?"

Ophelia looked at him with doubt.

"Of course."

Ian didn't avoid her gaze.

"Have I ever joked with you?"

Ophelia let out a cold laugh.

"Typical you—practical to the core."

"Something so trivial doesn't seem like the kind of thing you'd do."

As she spoke, the magus glanced again at the corner she had been discreetly watching earlier.

She seemed to think her actions weren't too obvious—but in reality, Ian had noticed everything clearly.

However, he didn't feel the need to comment.

Because it wouldn't mean anything.

"Anything else?" Ian asked. "If not, I'll head back."

"Wait."

Ophelia raised her hand to stop Ian.

"Ian, do you remember me telling you that if you want to become a magus, there's still a lot you need to do?"

"Of course." Ian chuckled lightly. "That's why I'm doing my best now."

Ophelia knew he wasn't lying.

This guy—once he got serious, there was no stopping him.

"Ian, in that case…"

Ophelia looked at him.

"When there's a chance, come with me to the Clock Tower."

"Clock Tower?"

Ian thought for a moment about the name.

"I remember—that's where you studied, right? Going there is to…"

"Are you deliberately asking something so obvious?"

Ophelia looked at Ian with a slightly exasperated expression.

"Of course, it's to see if you qualify to join the Clock Tower—but only when the time is right."

"I see."

Ian nodded.

"Well, thank you, Ophelia."

"That's it? You agreed so quickly!"

"..."

"..."

"Anything else?"

"You…"

Ophelia glanced again at the corner of the room, as if she had made up her mind about something.

"Don't you want to do something else with me?"

The moment Ophelia said those words, Ian forcefully pushed her onto the bed.

The entire process was smooth, without the slightest delay.

It seemed as though Ian had anticipated her saying something like this.

The ribbon tied in a bow was undone by skilled hands, revealing the magus's treasures.

These treasures were still covered by a layer of black fabric, as if afraid they might spill out.

Ophelia lay beneath Ian, while he was on top.

The two stared at each other, but their thoughts were on entirely different wavelengths.

Massage. Stretch. Transform.

Ian demonstrated the pliability of the orbs in his hands.

It should have been a scene of humiliation, but at this moment, Ophelia's lips curved into a faint smile.

The more the man's hands roamed, the more victorious she felt.

Because—

She had finally outmaneuvered him.

In this small room, there was a hidden device recording everything.

This man would never have expected to fall into such a trap.

Now, she had leverage over him.

It was a complete victory.

However—

Ian's next words shattered Ophelia's triumph.

"Is this enough?"

"..."

"What?" Ophelia replied, slightly flustered.

"Don't play dumb with me."

Ian looked at her, his face devoid of emotion.

"Over there, there's a camera you installed, recording us, isn't there?"

"Eh?!"

Ophelia was completely caught off guard by Ian's words.

"What?! Why would I install something like that?"

"Because you want to have something to use against me."

"..."

Even her motive was stated perfectly by Ian.

Ophelia looked at him, as if he were someone capable of seeing the future.

But she wasn't willing to lose so easily.

Meanwhile, Ian wasn't in a hurry. He had his own way to deal with her.

His fingers brushed across the magus's treasures, stopping at the points where the black fabric connected.

"I'll give you three seconds."

"If you don't admit it, I won't be responsible for what happens next."

"Three."

"Two."

"One."

"I admit it!" Ophelia shouted. "I did it!"

Only then did Ian stop.

He gently restored the loosened fabric to its original position and retied the ribbon for Ophelia.

"Umu, that's better." Ian looked quite satisfied.

The plan was completely exposed.

Ophelia's face showed deep reluctance.

"When did you notice?"

"...Probably the moment I entered this room?"

Ian adjusted Ophelia's messy hair from earlier.

"Miss Ophelia, do you realize you kept staring in one direction?"

"..."

Ophelia looked doubtful.

"Was I really that obvious?"

"Of course, otherwise, how would I have noticed immediately?"

"..."

Hearing this, Ophelia hesitated for a long time before finally speaking:

"Then if you already knew, why did you still…"

"Because it feels good to touch."

Ian stood up.

"Small, but very cute."

"You!"

Ophelia blushed.

But as soon as her eyes met his, she immediately realized he was teasing her.

"You're seriously so hateful!"

Ophelia picked up a pillow and threw it at Ian.

Ian caught it firmly and replied:

"Yes, I know I'm pretty annoying."

He placed the pillow aside and walked toward the corner Ophelia had been focused on earlier.

As expected.

Hidden there were the items she had prepared.

Ian retrieved them and placed them in front of Ophelia.

"Here."

"?"

Ophelia looked at the memory card in front of her, confused.

"What do you mean by this?"

"Nothing much." Ian shrugged. "If you wanted to have leverage over me, now you've got it, haven't you?"

"Are you pitying me?"

"No, just making you feel assured."

"..."

Staring at the memory card in her hand, Ophelia hesitated for a moment before eventually handing it back to Ian.

"You keep it."

"Since you already found out, you might as well keep it so people don't think I enjoy recording this kind of thing."

Ophelia turned away.

"Next time, I'll find a way to make sure you don't notice."

"..."

"What's that look for?"

"Nothing." Ian sighed. "I was just wondering if I had been sincere with you from the start, would things have ended the same way?"

"Maybe... we could still be friends?"

"Who wants to be friends with you?!" Ophelia covered her dress, her face turning red.

"A pervert who does such things from the beginning!"

"Fair enough."

Ian didn't seem bothered by her anger.

"Anyway, I should get going. I still need to meet up with Mashu to pick up someone named Fujiruru Ritsugacha or something."

"Wait."

Ophelia grabbed Ian's hand.

"Actually, I have something else to say."

"What is it?"

"...Thank you."

"Thank you?"

"Yes." The magus nodded. "If it weren't for you, I don't think I'd ever have had the chance to see the Sword Clarent up close."

"This could have been a regret in my magus career."

"Also—"

Ophelia glanced down at Ian's waist.

She recalled the sensation of playing with the "flute" in her hands.

"Back then, I also bore some responsibility. I…"

"Hadn't touched it before, right?" Ian interrupted her.

"Umu, that's true... Eh, wait! Touched it... That's not right, how do I explain this?!"

"Anyway, it's just being a 'virgin' in more ways than one." Ian spoke bluntly.

"That's what you mean, right?"

"Why do you always say things so hard to accept?!" Ophelia gritted her teeth.

"But—"

Ian leaned closer to Ophelia's face.

"It's not unusual—since you're so devoted to magecraft, you probably didn't have time to think about such things."

"Moreover, Ophelia, since you've said that, I actually want to tell you something."

"What is it?"

Ian placed his hand on Ophelia's head.

"If you hate Sundays, you can always come to me to relieve stress, change your focus."

"Staying cooped up at home all day isn't a good habit."

"How do you even know that?" Ophelia was slightly surprised.

"Don't worry about it."

"Anyway," Ian extended his hand toward Ophelia, "I welcome you to do so."

Looking at the hand he offered, the magus from a distinguished lineage hesitated for a long time but eventually chose to take it.

"Alright, but remember, you said it."

Ophelia couldn't use her Mystic Eyes to foresee what their relationship would ultimately become.

But at least in this moment.

She hoped it wouldn't be that of enemies.

But speaking of which—

Ophelia looked at him.

From the moment he said she could come to him on Sundays.

She suddenly felt this man wasn't so bad after all.

"Tell me… can it be more than just stress relief?"

"?"

Hearing those words, Ian suddenly felt that he and Ophelia might become a different kind of friend entirely.