Lord of Perverted Ladies

The office was warm.

Not because of the weather, but because it felt lived in.

Unlike the polished hallways outside, this room didn’t give the impression of being arranged purely for appearances. Bookshelves lined two walls from floor to ceiling, packed with books that had clearly been read rather than displayed. Framed photographs occupied the remaining spaces—graduation ceremonies from decades past, sports teams celebrating championships, cultural festivals, and group portraits of faculty members whose faces had slowly changed with time.

Near the windows stood a wooden cabinet filled with trophies dating back almost seventy years.

The room smelled faintly of old paper and freshly brewed tea.

The principal walked around his desk instead of remaining behind it.

"I’m glad you all came."

His voice carried the calm confidence of someone accustomed to speaking with students every day.

"I know it’s been a long two days."

Ryan scratched the back of his head.

"It definitely has."

The principal smiled.

"I can tell."

His eyes briefly swept across our group before settling on Noah.

"You must be Noah Walker."

"Yes, sir."

"And these are your club members?"

"They are."

Noah introduced everyone one by one.

"Ryan Carter."

Ryan gave an enthusiastic wave.

"Marcus Reed."

Marcus nodded politely.

"Daniel Foster."

Daniel smiled.

"Ethan Brooks."

Ethan offered a respectful greeting.

"And Adrian Cross."

I inclined my head.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir."

"The pleasure is mine."

The principal gestured toward a seating area near the windows where six chairs had already been prepared.

"Please."

"Sit."

Once everyone had settled, another faculty member quietly entered carrying a tray with cups of tea.

She placed one in front of each of us before excusing herself without interrupting the conversation.

Ryan stared at the cup.

"...We’re getting tea."

Marcus looked sideways.

"Yes."

"I’ve never had tea in the principal’s office before."

"I don’t think most students have."

"I feel important."

Daniel chuckled.

"You’ve felt important since yesterday."

"Yesterday I had visitors."

"Today I have tea."

The principal laughed softly.

"I’ve heard quite a bit about you, Mr. Carter."

Ryan froze.

"...Good things?"

"I’ll let you decide."

The room relaxed immediately.

Whatever nervousness everyone had been carrying into the office quickly began to fade.

The principal picked up a thin folder from the coffee table.

"This contains the reports submitted by teachers who visited the exhibition."

He opened it carefully.

"I don’t usually read every report myself."

"But yours appeared often enough that curiosity got the better of me."

Ryan quietly whispered toward Marcus.

"...That’s definitely good."

Marcus whispered back.

"It probably is."

The principal adjusted his glasses.

"I visited every exhibition personally."

"There were impressive engineering projects."

"Excellent musical performances."

"Remarkable artwork."

He looked toward Noah.

"But your club interested me for a different reason."

Noah listened attentively.

The principal continued.

"You created something that encouraged people to think together."

"You made strangers cooperate."

"I watched grandparents discussing clues with children."

"I watched students who had never spoken to each other begin debating evidence."

"I even saw teachers arguing over witness statements."

A faint smile appeared on his face.

"You reminded people that solving problems can be enjoyable."

Noah lowered his head slightly.

"Thank you, sir."

"No."

"You’ve earned the thanks."

He closed the folder.

"I understand this club has only recently become active."

"Yes."

"It was nearly dissolved."

Ryan quietly muttered, "We don’t mention that part."

Daniel elbowed him gently.

The principal either didn’t hear him or chose not to comment.

Instead, he leaned back in his chair.

"May I tell you all a story?"

Everyone nodded.

"When I was your age..."

He looked toward the old photographs on the wall.

"...This academy was very different."

"There were fewer buildings."

"Far fewer students."

"The library occupied what is now the science wing."

"And the old auditorium stood where your sports complex is today."

Ryan listened with unexpected interest.

"I was part of a literature club."

Daniel blinked.

"You were?"

"I was."

The principal laughed quietly.

"Most people assume I spent my youth studying administrative policies."

"I assure you..."

"I did not."

Marcus smiled faintly.

"I find that surprisingly reassuring."

The principal’s eyes softened.

"There were only five of us."

"We weren’t especially talented."

"Our club rarely won awards."

"In truth..."

He paused.

"I doubt anyone outside the academy remembers it today."

The room became completely silent.

"But I remember."

He looked around at each of us in turn.

"I remember every conversation."

"Every meeting."

"Every ridiculous argument."

Ryan immediately glanced at Marcus.

Marcus sighed.

"...Don’t."

"I’m just saying."

The principal smiled.

"I remember staying after sunset because we were too absorbed in discussing stories to notice the time."

"I remember believing our little club would last forever."

His expression grew quieter.

"It didn’t."

"Graduation arrived."

"People found jobs."

"They moved away."

"Life continued."

He folded his hands together.

"For many years..."

"I believed our club had disappeared."

He looked toward one of the framed photographs.

"Then..."

"Twenty years after graduation..."

"The five of us met again."

Daniel smiled.

"Really?"

"We did."

"We spent six hours together."

"And do you know what surprised me?"

Nobody answered.

"We barely talked about our careers."

"Or our salaries."

"We talked about our club."

"The books we’d argued over."

"The competitions we’d lost."

"The terrible tea we used to drink."

Ryan quietly lifted his cup.

"...This tea’s good."

"It is."

The principal laughed.

"My point is..."

He looked directly at Noah.

"Years from now..."

"You probably won’t remember how many visitors you had."

"You may not remember every clue in your mystery."

"But if you’re fortunate..."

"You’ll remember each other."

The room fell silent.

Not awkwardly.

Comfortably.

Ryan looked down into his teacup.

Daniel’s smile became thoughtful.

Even Marcus seemed unusually reflective.

I found myself remembering my previous life.

How many friendships had quietly faded because everyone assumed there would always be more time?

Far too many.

The principal noticed our expressions and smiled.

"I apologize."

"I’ve become sentimental in my old age."

"I don’t think so," Noah said.

"I think..."

He looked around at us.

"...It’s something we needed to hear."

The principal nodded once.

"I’m glad."

He reached into another folder resting beside him.

"Now."

"Business."

Ryan whispered dramatically.

"...Here it comes."

Marcus whispered back.

"I thought you liked tea."

"I do."

"I’m emotionally prepared."

The principal placed six certificates on the table.

"These are academy recognition certificates."

"They’re awarded to clubs that demonstrate exceptional contribution to student life."

Ryan’s eyes widened.

"...For us?"

"For all of you."

One by one, he handed them over.

When mine reached my hands, I read the neatly printed words beneath my name.

In recognition of outstanding creativity, teamwork, and contribution during the Inter-Club Exhibition.

It wasn’t extraordinary.

It wasn’t life-changing.

Yet...

I still felt unexpectedly proud.

The principal wasn’t finished.

"The academy board also approved a modest activity budget for the Mystery Research Club beginning next semester."

Ryan nearly dropped his certificate.

"...Budget?"

"Correct."

Daniel looked equally surprised.

"We actually have funding?"

"You do."

Marcus slowly nodded.

"That’ll help."

Ethan smiled.

"We can improve next year’s exhibition."

Ryan immediately leaned forward.

"We can buy a better cardboard victim."

Marcus closed his eyes.

"I knew you’d say that."

The principal laughed heartily.

"I’ll leave budgeting decisions to President Walker."

Noah looked slightly overwhelmed.

"I..."

"Thank you."

"We won’t waste the opportunity."

"I believe you."

The conversation continued for another twenty minutes.

The principal asked about our ideas for future activities.

Ryan proposed hosting a campus-wide detective tournament.

Marcus suggested smaller monthly events instead.

Daniel wanted collaborative projects with other clubs.

Ethan discussed inviting guest speakers from local museums.

Noah carefully took notes whenever someone offered a practical suggestion.

I mostly listened.

Watching.

Thinking.

Several times I caught the principal looking toward me.

Not suspiciously.

Almost...

Curiously.

As though he wanted to ask something but kept deciding against it.

Eventually, the meeting drew to a close.

The principal stood.

"I won’t keep you any longer."

"You’ve all earned some rest."

We rose from our chairs.

One after another, everyone thanked him.

Ryan bowed so enthusiastically he almost lost his balance.

Marcus quietly grabbed his sleeve before disaster struck.

The principal pretended not to notice.

As we reached the door, his voice stopped us.

"Mr. Cross."

My hand paused on the doorknob.

"...Yes, sir?"

"The others may go ahead."

"I’d like a brief word with you."

The room became noticeably quieter.

Ryan looked between us.

"I’ll wait outside."

"No need," I replied.

"It shouldn’t take long."

Noah studied my expression for a second before nodding.

"We’ll be downstairs."

The others filed out one after another.

Ryan was the last.

Before closing the door, he looked back.

"...Don’t let him assign homework."

I couldn’t help smiling.

"I’ll try."

The door clicked shut.

Silence returned to the office.

The principal walked back toward the window overlooking the academy grounds.

Students could still be seen carrying equipment across the courtyard below.

Without turning around, he spoke.

"Relax."

"You’re not in trouble."

"I didn’t think I was."

"I suspected as much."

He remained quiet for several moments.

Then he asked,

"Tell me, Adrian..."

"What do you think makes a story change?"

My heartbeat slowed.

Not because I had relaxed.

Because every instinct I had screamed that this wasn’t an ordinary question.

The blue notification appeared at the edge of my vision.

______

[Story Alert]

Conversation classified as Significant.

Recommendation:

Respond carefully.

______

The principal was still looking out the window.

Waiting patiently.

As though he already knew there was no simple answer.

And for the first time since Lucien had walked into the exhibition...

I felt as though someone else had quietly stepped onto the stage.