Chapter 120: Blue haired simp’s plan
After an emotional rollercoaster of the night, including Emma’s confession, the horrors of heroast, her selfish request, and their quiet promise for the future, the two finally drifted into a peaceful sleep in each other’s embrace. Emma held him tightly the whole night as if he might disappear like he was just a projection of her cruel nightmare.
When Eren groggily opened his eyes, the room was still mostly dark, with the sun barely casting rays over the horizon. He rolled over the bed in habit... only to find out the other side was empty and already cool.
His tanned, muscle mommy girlfriend was gone.
He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes as he heard some soft sounds. Following the source, he found Emma standing near his wardrobe, almost dressed up. She was buttoning up her formal white shirt, hiding those soft, chocolate mounds behind.
The ridiculous, short maid skirt from last night was nowhere in sight...
Too sad.
’Damn... farewell, legendary maid outfit. You will be missed. My eyes and my little brother both send their regards.’
Emma’s instincts noticed him watching and glanced over her shoulder.
"Ohh, you’re awake already?" She said, her tone cold and authoritative again, as if last night’s vulnerable confession never happened. "It’s barely four in the morning."
Eren gave her a half-lidded smirk, resting his head on his palm. "How can I? It’s hard to keep sleeping when the best part of the bed suddenly disappears."
"Of course," Emma snorted, taking her black hair tie and sweeping her long pink hair to tie it up into a combat, high ponytail in quick moments. "Unlike a certain lazy noble idiot, I have a daily morning workout to keep myself in shape."
He chuckled weakly, still sleepy. "You know... it’s pretty hilarious thinking about our future. Imagine the poor kid having to see the sweet, sensitive side of you at night, only to wake up to the terrifying captain who threatens to break bones as discipline."
Emma finished up her ponytail and walked to him and held her muscular hand on his shoulders. She leaned down slightly, storm grey eyes filled with familiar menace.
"Do I need to remind you..." Emma whispered, her voice turning husky. "...that I can still crush your skull with my legs like last night?"
Eren didn’t even flinch at her threat. He just gave a filthy smirk as he said:
"Captain, that sounds far more like a premium reward offer than an actual threat."
Emma huffed, pushing his shoulder with little force so he flopped back onto the pillows. "Go back to sleep, you pervert, and get ready for the day," she reminded him, stepping towards the doorway.
Eren stared at the ceiling as sudden realisation clicked in his brain. "Oh, right...today is the weekend. We are all going out for a date,"
"Don’t be late," she ordered briskly, shutting the door behind her.
Eren lay in the quiet room for a moment, running a hand through his dark hair as a lazy, wicked smile spread across his face.
"Right... time to get ready," Eren muttered to himself, his blue eyes glinting with intrigue. "Besides... I have a very specific shop to visit today."
[Ding!]
[It seems that the host is very excited for a triple date with three beauties!]
The familiar, soft female voice chimed in his mind all of a sudden.
"How could I not?" Eren questioned, smiling like an idiot. "It’s my first time taking them out. Honestly, if I were not buried in my projects, I would take them on different dates every day. Seems like I failed as their boyfriend."
[Ohh, don’t be like that host.]
[How about I give you a special reward for last night’s maid foreplay?]
[Free of cost!]
Eren raised a single, skeptical eyebrow. "What are you, wingman system?"
****
Meanwhile, in his own luxurious dorm room, the blue-haired simp was pacing back and forth like a psychotic trapped in a high-security mental asylum.
"Why...why did this happen?" He muttered hysterically, violently biting off his own fingernails until they bled. "This isn’t how it’s supposed to go! It shouldn’t be like this!"
His entire world shattered in one month. He was the chosen hero, the brilliant heir destined to be adored by the universe. That’s what his mother drilled into his mind since he was a kid. Everything was supposed to belong to him.
But now?
He was alone, drowning in a suffocating wave of public humiliation and isolation.
He sat in his desk chair, burying his bleeding fist in his unkempt blue hair, his mind spiralling.
’Why did Eren change?!’ he screamed internally, his turned ref. ’He was supposed to be the trashy, useless villain! I should have slaughtered him the very first day I had the chance! He stole Aria’s heart... he turned Alice against me... that bitch ignored me after I lost!’
How was he supposed to kill a monster like Eren Volsver now? He didn’t have the strength, the political pull, or the standing left to touch him.
Knock. Knock.
Reinhardt’s heart abruptly froze as he heard a knock at his door, staring at his door with paranoid fear.
Hesitantly, he walked across the room and opened the door. Just as expected, the hallway was empty. But looking down at the threshold, he saw an unlabelled black wooden box sitting on the floor, just like last time when someone had anonymously tipped him off about Violet.
Grabbing the package, the fallen hero pulled it inside and slammed the door shut.
He flipped the latch and opened the lid. Nestled inside the velvet lining were several small glass vials filled with a thick, swirling, pitch-black liquid that seemed to absorb the light around it. Beside the vials was a folded piece of paper.
Reinhardt picked up the letter and unfolded it. The message began with the best courtesy he had ever received:
’You absolute, unmitigated fool. You managed to ruin an entire setup with your pathetic, ego-driven duel.’
Reinhardt’s jaw clenched so hard his molars groaned, his fingers tightening, nearly tearing the paper in half. But just as he was about to rip the letter to shreds in a fit of rage, his eyes caught a line near the bottom of the page.
’If you are truly desperate to drag Eren Volsver to mud, stop trying to fight him directly. Hit him where it actually hurts. Secure the target below for leverage:’
Mira Rumiro.
The simp stared at the name, a slow, sickening realization dawning in his mind.
"Mira Rumiro.." Reinhardt whispered, his trembling fingers gently picking up one of the vials. "So that’s where I should strike."