Beast Gacha System: All Mine-Chapter 222: Thinking and Guessing

Someone who wanted to ruin his reputation?

Did that even narrow it down?

No. Yes. Actually, it did.

"I do have obvious enemies." His voice came from behind her, still slightly distracted by the struggle with unfamiliar clothing. "But to find someone who can touch my food... or someone who can tamper with the student council’s office... is—"

"Exactly." Cecilia hummed. "Harder to find who’s even dare."

She turned.

Arkai stood there, mid-motion, caught in the act of pulling his pants up. The old uniform, a spare from the depths of the council’s cabinets, was halfway to his thighs, revealing a devastating slice of hip and the hard lines of abdominal muscle leading down to—

"P—please turn around!"

His face burned crimson again. As if being seen climaxing wasn’t enough, now he had to be seen naked too?

"Sorry." Cecilia shrugged. She didn’t turn around. "Just pull your pants up."

Of course he pulled his pants up. But the fumbling, the buttoning, was a nightmare. The spare uniform wasn’t tailored to his frame like his usual attire. The fabric sat wrong, the waistband unfamiliar, and his muscle memory, honed on perfectly fitted clothes, offered no help here.

Thankfully, Arkai thought, stealing a glance, Cecilia didn’t actually turn to watch him.

She was looking at the ceiling.

Her gaze traced invisible lines across the plaster, her head tilting slowly as if following something only she could see. Did she... was she able to perceive magical circuits? Mana flows? Something beyond normal sight?

The calm, casual ease of this woman, locked in a room with a man who had just been through a drug-induced heat, who had just climaxed while holding her hand, made him even more nervous than the situation warranted.

Was she... that experienced?

The rumors, then. About her and three other men. They were... true?

Or could it be that she had set this all up?

But why? She had no motive. No reason to trap him here, to drug him, to—

Right?

"Ah, it’s the chandelier." Cecilia pointed upward.

Arkai blinked.

"Oh, nope, I’m wrong." She sighed, disappointed. "It’s not the chandelier. Could it be... in the walls...?" 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

She turned to him, those sea-glass eyes sharp and inquiring. "You’ve been here longer than me. Where do you think the spell is planted? I’ve been following the mana source, but it’s a bit tangled from here."

Arkai stared at her.

This...

What was she expecting from a man who had just been drugged and locked in a room? Did she think he would have been observing mana flows while fighting for control of his own body?

But well...

"I think it’s the window." The words came out before he could second-guess them.

Yes. Even while drugged, even while fighting for control, he had been analyzing. Cataloguing. Surviving. What surprised him was not his own answer. It was her reaction. Or rather, her lack of one.

She believed he did analyze things, while he was busy being drugged. Without a doubt. She accepted his response without question, without surprise, as if she had expected him to know.

She... overestimated him? Or simply assumed competence as the baseline for Arkai Dawnoro? Was she testing him? Preparing to mock him if he admitted ignorance?

Cecilia, meanwhile, thought nothing of it.

She knew Arkai would know. Like Oathran had said, Arkai was the most similar to her. Because she would do the same. He was that kind of person.

She crossed to the window, tried the latch.

Locked.

But even if they could unlock it, outside, the steep wall of the Athenaeum’s outer building dropped away into darkness. They were far from the ground. Too far to jump, too far to climb without preparation.

"Do you think if we can look out, we can find the source of the mana and the spell?" she asked.

"Perhaps." Arkai moved closer, his voice steady now. "You want me to destroy the window?"

Cecilia shrugged. "It’s better than destroying the door."

"It’s as bad," Arkai deadpanned.

She chuckled. "You’re right."

"But destroy it anyway." She nodded.

Arkai narrowed his eyes in suspicion. But then his fist clenched, muscles coiling, and he turned to face the window.

CRASH!

The glass shattered outward in a crystalline explosion, fragments catching the dim light as they tumbled into the void beyond. The wooden frame splintered under the force of his strike, leaving a gaping hole where solid barrier had been moments before.

Wind rushed inside immediately. It swept through the office like an invading force, sending loose papers into chaotic spirals, whipping documents from desks and shelves into a frantic aerial dance.

Arkai turned to look at Cecilia.

She stood perfectly still, unflinching. Her hair streamed behind her in the rushing wind, golden strands caught in a wild, beautiful dance, but her posture remained relaxed, composed, as if she faced nothing more threatening than a gentle breeze.

She pointed to the cloudy sky.

"Ah. Look at that pigeon." Her voice carried easily over the wind. "It’s carrying the spell."

Arkai noticed it the same time she did, squinting into the grey expanse. There, circling high above, almost lost against the clouds, was a single bird. Even from this distance, he could sense it. The same foreign mana that coated the door, the windows, pulsed faintly from the creature.

"I’ll shoot it down." His body tensed, ready to destroy.

Cecilia’s eyes widened. Then narrowed.

"And lose the clues of who did all this?" Her voice was a bit teasing, but sharp nonetheless. "Don’t tell me, you actually have an idea who did this and are trying to protect them? Or prevent me from finding out?"

Arkai’s eyebrows drew together.

She’s... terrifying.

Just from a single suggestion, she—?

Cecilia reached toward the sky.

She didn’t move from her spot. Didn’t leap, didn’t chase, didn’t even stretch particularly far. Her hand simply extended, palm up, fingers loose and waiting.

The circling pigeon stopped.

Stopped.

As if time itself had frozen for that single creature. Its wings were locked mid-flap, its body suspended in the air like a museum specimen mounted on invisible wire.

Cecilia turned her palm upward and curled her finger in a beckoning gesture, gentle yet absolute.

The bird descended.

Still frozen in that impossible flying pose, it floated downward through the air as if carried by an invisible hand. Down past the shattered window, through the gaping hole, into the chaos of the wind-tossed office.

It came to rest before them, hovering at eye level, a perfect statue of a pigeon caught in eternal flight.

Telekinesis.

Right. That was her ’specialty’. But she wasn’t a Vision Mage. She was Unique. Which meant this was supposed to be simple telekinesis. Yet it felt and looked beyond standard telekinesis.

No wonder she had aced her exams and certification at the same time.

Arkai stared at the frozen bird, at the woman who controlled it with a curl of her finger, and felt something shift in his understanding of the world.

"Well." She tilted her head, those sea-glass eyes fixed on him. "Why don’t you start narrowing it down?"

They stood face to face in the wreckage of the office, broken glass underfoot, papers scattered across every surface, the frozen pigeon still hovering between them like a judgment suspended in time.

From outside, commotion erupted. Footsteps pounded down corridors. Voices shouted, professors, students, staff, all drawn by the sound of shattering glass and the sudden release of magic. The door, no longer sealed by whatever spell the bird had carried, burst open to reveal a crowd of alarmed faces.

Cecilia didn’t turn, or flinch, or acknowledge any of them.

Her gaze remained fixed on Arkai, patient. As if the entire world could burn around them and she would simply continue this conversation.

"Who might be the culprit?"