Transmigrated into Eroge as the Simp, but I Refuse This Fate

DING!

A familiar chime echoed in his mind, and a translucent window materialized before his eyes.

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[Hidden Quest Completed: Prove Them Wrong]

Objective: Successfully answer a classroom question when no one expected you to.

Reward: +100 SP

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Damien's smirk deepened.

Well, well… Didn't expect that.

He hadn't even been trying to trigger a quest this time. But apparently, his little display had been enough for the system to recognize it as an achievement.

Not bad.

Not bad at all.

Tucking the information away for later, Damien turned his attention back to the room.

Professor Reynard, still watching him with an unreadable expression, finally exhaled and adjusted his sleeves. "I see. It seems you do have some grasp of the material after all, Damien."

Damien shrugged. "Something like that."

Damien wasn't an idiot.

He could feel the tension in the room, the unspoken weight of everyone's stares. But more importantly—

He knew exactly how this situation had started.

There was no doubt in his mind that Victoria had been the one to set him up for this.

After all, Reynard rarely called on students at random unless someone had drawn attention to them.

And considering Victoria's thinly veiled irritation, the way she had been staring at him ever since class started, it wasn't hard to put the pieces together.

'So you snitched on me, huh?'

A slow smirk curled at his lips.

Well, if she wanted to use him as a tool for her amusement—

Then it was only fair he returned the favor.

He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting against his desk as his sharp blue eyes flicked lazily toward Victoria.

"Thanks for the opportunity, Victoria," he drawled, his voice smooth, confident. "I know you must've really wanted to hear my insight on the topic. It's flattering, really."

A few chuckles rippled through the classroom.

Victoria's lips parted slightly, caught off guard. "I—"

But Damien didn't let her speak.

"Oh," he continued, tilting his head slightly, as if a realization had just hit him. "Or was it something else? Were you hoping I'd embarrass myself?"

Another round of amused murmurs spread through the students.

Victoria's expression twitched. "Of course not," she snapped, her tone sharper now. "I simply thought it would be fair if you contributed to class for once."

Damien chuckled, shaking his head. "Fairness? From you?" He let the words hang in the air for a moment, letting them sink in before flashing her a smirk. "I didn't know you cared so much about my education, Victoria. How sweet of you."

Laughter broke out.

Some students openly chuckled, others exchanged knowing looks, and even Reynard—strict as he was—didn't bother to intervene.

Victoria, on the other hand, looked absolutely livid.

Damien leaned back in his chair, fully enjoying the sight of Victoria seething in silence. But he wasn't done with her just yet.

With an easy smirk, he tilted his head. "By the way, Victoria," he mused, his voice dripping with amusement, "since you were so eager to hear my thoughts—what about yours?"

Victoria's eyes narrowed. "What?"

Damien gestured lazily toward the board. "Did you understand my explanation? I hope it was helpful for you."

A few scattered laughs erupted around the room, and Victoria's expression darkened further.

Damien could see it—that internal struggle.

If she lashed out now, she'd look like a sore loser. If she admitted defeat, she'd have to acknowledge that she had walked straight into her own trap.

So in the end, she clenched her jaw, her fingers gripping her pen tightly as she looked away.

"Tch."

No response.

Damien chuckled under his breath. That's what I thought.

Professor Reynard, having apparently decided this exchange wasn't worth his time, exhaled sharply and moved on.

"Enough," the professor said, his voice bringing the classroom's focus back to him. "Let's continue."

The murmurs died down, and the lesson resumed.

But Damien could feel the tension lingering in the air.

Especially from his side.

Glancing to his right, he noticed Moren was watching him—his usual laid-back expression gone, replaced with something much less amused.

Displeasure.

Annoyance.

Damien raised an eyebrow slightly.

'Ah… Let me guess.'

Victoria must have ghosted Moren today.

And in his mind?

It was all Damien's fault.

Damien exhaled softly, shaking his head.

How fucking pathetic.

This was exactly why he couldn't stand simps.

****

Victoria's hands curled into fists beneath her desk.

That bastard.

The way he had flipped the situation so effortlessly. The way he had turned the class's laughter against her. And the worst part? He didn't even care.

She could still hear the faint chuckles from earlier, the way a few students had exchanged amused glances when Damien had taunted her.

Her stomach twisted with irritation.

She wasn't supposed to be the one caught off guard. She wasn't supposed to be the one embarrassed.

But Damien—that arrogant, insufferable—

Her sharp gaze flicked toward him.

And there he was.

Once again.

Sleeping.

Victoria felt something in her snap.

This… This infuriating man.

After all of that. After making a fool of her, after standing above her in a moment where he should have been humiliated—he dared to sleep through the rest of the class as if none of it had ever happened.

As if she wasn't even worth his attention.

Her jaw clenched.

Fine.

She still had P.E.

If she couldn't humiliate him in the classroom, she would do it there.

But first…

The bell rang, signaling the end of class. Professor Reynard gathered his materials, dismissing the students with his usual brief nod. The class erupted into quiet murmurs, chairs scraping against the floor as students prepared to leave.

Victoria, however, did not move.

Instead, she stood, her heels clicking against the polished floor as she strode purposefully toward Damien's desk.

He was still slouched in his seat, arms folded, head tilted slightly downward, eyes closed. The very picture of indifference.

Victoria barely registered the approaching footsteps before a familiar, eager voice reached her ears.

"Victoria… Did you come here for me?"

Moren Vaughn.

The sheer hopefulness in his tone made her fingers twitch in irritation.

She turned her head just slightly, just enough to see him standing there—his usual lopsided smile in place, his hands fidgeting as if he were nervous but excited all the same. In his grasp was a small, neatly wrapped box.

A gift.

He had actually prepared something for her.

Pathetic.

"I noticed you didn't say anything to me this morning," Moren continued, rubbing the back of his neck. "I thought maybe… I don't know, you were busy? So, uh, I waited. I thought—"

"Shut up," Victoria cut in, her voice cold.

The words hit him like a slap.

Moren flinched, his mouth opening slightly as if to protest, but no words came out.

The humiliation flickered in his gaze, the faintest crack in his usual puppy-like devotion.

And yet, he still didn't move.

Still stood there, lingering, waiting for something—any sign of warmth, of acknowledgment.

Victoria had no time for this.

She had ignored him all morning for a reason. Isolating Damien, ensuring that Moren and his pathetic little grudge would fester long enough to be useful.

And yet this fool… still thought this had anything to do with him?

How utterly beneath her.

She didn't spare Moren another glance.

Instead, she turned her full attention back to Damien.

And, with the same sharp irritation clawing at her patience, she reached forward—

And shoved his shoulder.

"Wake up," she ordered.

Nothing.

Her lips pressed into a thin line.

Another shove. This time firmer.

"Damien."

Finally, a slow exhale. A quiet shift of movement.

And then—

Damien cracked one eye open.

That sharp, knowing blue gaze locked onto hers, groggy but still carrying that insufferable amusement.

Then—

A smirk.

"Missed me already?"

Victoria seethed.