It's all about love

We have met the requirement of two chapters per day. I will post the next chapter in four hours. The rules for update stability remain the same as usual; you can refer back to Chapter 9 for details.

...

"Brother, tell me the truth—how far has your relationship with Kaguya-sama gone?" Ai Hayasaka asked coldly, her piercing eyes devoid of any warmth as she forced me to meet her unyielding gaze.

Her tone was sharp, her words slicing through the air like a blade meant to cut past my defenses.

"I've already told you, haven't I?" I rolled my eyes, brushing off her judgmental tone with practiced indifference.

Her cold stare didn't faze me, not anymore. I wasn't the confused lamb I used to be, blindly stumbling through a world I didn't understand.

When the fog cleared, I learned the truth about women—what they wanted most in this world wasn't as simple as lust. Affection was their true craving, their lifeblood.

Sex was just the last, desperate resort for them, something they turned to only when their desire for affection was denied or when the object of their longing showed disgust or repulsion toward them.

That's why I knew better than to show Ai any negative emotions now. I wasn't stupid enough to ignite that ticking bomb.

Keeping my expression neutral was always the safer bet.

True to form, I noticed her icy glare soften just a little as her baffled frustration gave way to curiosity.

"I do," she replied, her tone still cold but tinged with suspicion.

"I noticed you've gotten much closer to her, but even so, I can't imagine Kaguya-sama willingly letting you climb the Paradise Tower—let alone giving you the Crystal Stone—unless she felt guilty about something and wanted to compensate you for it."

Her words were delivered with the conviction of someone who thought they had the whole world figured out. "I know what kind of woman she is, brother. She would never allow a man to rise to a position of power under normal circumstances. Her Shinomiya education wouldn't permit it. Call it what it is—sexist, if you ask me."

"I don't think she's that bad," I replied with a shrug, genuinely puzzled by Ai's reasoning.

So far, Kaguya had only shown me her softer, almost cute side.

Sure, maybe she was sexist in the eyes of this matriarchal world's standards, but that didn't define her entirely.

Her kindness and positivity overshadowed her flaws, at least in my opinion.

"Yes, not that bad," Ai repeated with a sarcastic chuckle, her tone drenched in mockery.

"Then tell me this, brother: who's the one who constantly complained about Miss Kaguya's endless harassment?"

"Who's the one who whined about her gifts, about her being too clingy and refusing to give him space? Who's the one who always wanted to be left alone, yet she wouldn't stop chasing him?"

"Tell me, brother—who is he? Because I remember someone who couldn't stand her, and now you're suddenly singing a different tune? Why the change of heart?"

Her eyes drilled into me, sharp and unrelenting, casting her judgment without mercy. Her sarcastic smirk only made the sting of her words worse.

"It's not all bad, indeed," she continued, her tone dripping with condescension.

Her accusations annoyed me, but what annoyed me even more was the fact that she was dragging me into problems I didn't create.

Why did the former owner of this body have to dump all his bullshit on me?

Why were his grudges, his relationships, his messy emotions, suddenly my burden to take?

This is bullshit.

As if a thought had suddenly struck me, my annoyance melted away, replaced by a teasing smirk as I turned my gaze toward Ai.

The air between us seemed to shift as I spoke, my voice laced with challenge and subtle provocation.

"Yes, indeed. Why is it, Ai? Why the sudden change of heart, hmm?"

Ai Hayasaka's expression shifted, her confidence wavering as suspicion crept into her eyes.

She wasn't used to being on the back foot like this.

"Rather than asking me," I continued, my tone sharpening, "let me ask you something. Why do you care now? Why take action all of a sudden? You've had every opportunity to take me out, to do something about all this. Haven't you?"

I stood from my seat, letting my movements carry a deliberate momentum, as if the weight of my words propelled me forward.

My gaze locked onto hers, intense and unwavering, daring her to meet it.

She faltered, her eyes breaking away, unable to hold my challenging stare.

Her face turned slightly, guilt flickering in her expression like a flame that couldn't be extinguished.

So, I was right. It all made sense now. The complaints from the former owner of this body, his bitterness, his cries for Ai to help him escape this situation or sever ties with Kaguya—it was all starting to add up.

But in the end, she hadn't helped him. She hadn't done a thing. The evidence was glaringly obvious.

When I transmigrated into this body, he was still here, still playing the role of a servant, a butler at Kaguya's beck and call.

Ai's failure to act had left him stuck, and her silence had weighed heavily on this twisted relationship.

Compared to the strength of my momentum, Ai's resistance was crumbling.

The aura of confidence she had radiated earlier was gone, replaced by something fragile and uncertain.

Her shoulders sank, her head lowered in shame, and her once-sharp eyes softened.

"I'm sorry, brother... I really am..." she said, her voice trembling with humility and regret.

I didn't let her off easily.

Reaching out, I lifted her chin gently, forcing her to meet my gaze.

Her eyes, once filled with defiance, now shimmered with guilt, the anger and coercion from before completely erased.

They were soft, almost pleading, as she looked at me.

"No problem, sister," I replied, my tone low and deliberate.

I leaned closer to her ear, my breath brushing against her skin as I whispered.

Her face flushed a deep, burning red as the closeness between us grew.

My lips barely grazed her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

A faint gasp escaped her lips, betraying the tension that had built up in her chest.

I let the moment linger, then reached up to stroke her blonde hair gently, my fingers gliding through the soft strands with slow, deliberate intent.

"You're my sister, Ai," I murmured, my voice steady but laced with meaning. "I want your support, not this tension between us. I don't like the accusations. I don't like how our relationship has become strained like this."

"We're supposed to be there for each other, through thick and thin." As I spoke, I leaned closer, my lips hovering near hers, teasing the moment as her breath hitched.

Then, without hesitation, I closed the distance, pressing my lips against hers in a passionate kiss.

Ai stiffened, her eyes widening in shock, but the resistance faded quickly.

Her lips were warm, soft, and slightly parted, inviting me in.

I deepened the kiss, my mouth capturing hers with deliberate intensity.

My tongue flicked against her lips, teasing them apart before sliding into her mouth.

Ai let out a small, surprised whimper as my tongue explored her mouth, tracing along her teeth, the roof of her mouth, and finally intertwining with her own.

Her taste was intoxicating, sweet and addictive, as if designed to make me lose myself.

Her initial hesitation gave way to surrender as her hands gripped my school uniform tightly, pulling me closer.

She tilted her head slightly, allowing me to dominate the kiss entirely.

Our tongues danced together, each movement growing more desperate, more frenzied.

Her breathing grew uneven, ragged gasps escaping her between the relentless press of our lips.

My hand slid from her hair, trailing down her back, and rested on the curve of her waist.

I pulled her flush against me, the warmth of her body igniting my own.

Ai moaned softly into my mouth, her voice muffled but undeniably filled with lust.

My free hand moved up to cup her cheek, tilting her face to deepen the angle of the kiss.

I nipped at her lower lip, tugging it gently before soothing the sting with my tongue.

The kiss was messy now, heated and filled with raw emotion.

Saliva pooled between our mouths, spilling slightly and trailing down her chin.

I didn't stop to clean it; instead, I pressed forward, capturing her lips again and again, as if I couldn't get enough.

When we finally broke apart, a thin string of saliva connected us, glistening in the light.

Ai's face was flushed, her lips red and swollen from the intensity of our kiss.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her breathing uneven as she tried to recover.

I grabbed a tissue from the table, wiping her chin gently before brushing my thumb across her lips, savoring the sight of her like this—disheveled, vulnerable, and utterly mine.

"I understand, brother," she said, her voice heavy with remorse. "I'm sorry. I'll never pressure you again. Please... forgive me."

"Hush," I replied, cupping her face gently. "Don't apologize, Ai. You've always been my sister. You'll always been."

I pulled her into my arms, and she collapsed against me, burying her face in my chest.

Her guilt, her shame, and her heart—all of it belonged to me now.

I held her close, letting the moment linger, knowing she was mine in every way that mattered.

...

The previous incident with Ai had left me in deep thought, almost unconsciously dragging me into the depths of my own mind.

Was that really me back there? Since when had I become so smooth, so effortlessly Casanova, that I could disarm a girl like her with nothing but sweet words and calculated seduction?

The me from my past life?

A virgin loser with zero game. It didn't make sense.

If I'd been this charismatic back then, I would've easily conquered Hollywood actresses left and right.

Hell, I'd have made Scarlett Johansson wet just by walking into the same room as her.

So, what the hell was this sudden change?

Was it the adrenaline? The thrill of being cornered by Ai that awakened something inside me? Something darker? Something greater?

It reminded me of Peter Parker's transformation into Bully Maguire. Yeah, that guy.

Before his emo phase, Peter Parker was just a nerd—a pushover who couldn't even catch a break.

But once he embraced his darker side, even a supermodel like Gwen Stacy couldn't resist him. She was practically dripping at the mere sight of him.

Was I developing that same potential? If I stayed in this mindset—this emo, dark, unapologetic phase—could I become like the legend, Bully Maguire himself?

Girls love bad boys, after all. It's practically a law of nature.

But then I paused.

Did I really want that? Would I let myself turn into some manipulative edgelord just to get girls?

No, that wasn't me.

It couldn't be me.

I walked to the restroom, splashed cold water on my face, and looked at my reflection in the mirror.

A handsome man with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes stared back at me. He was so good-looking, it was almost unfair, if I'm being honest.

But as I stared into the mirror, I couldn't help but feel disgusted. I was becoming the kind of person I used to hate.

I didn't want to manipulate anyone. If I wanted someone, I should win them over honestly—not through tricks or emotional blackmail.

What I did to Ai was wrong.

But was she in the right, either? No. The truth was, we were both wrong.

And now, it was too late to turn back. Neither of us could undo what we'd done.

I sighed heavily.

How did I even end up like this? All I ever wanted was a life where girls chased after me obsessively, where I could live in pure joy and pleasure with them.

But not like this.

Not through manipulation. It didn't feel real. It didn't feel right.

This had to be the last time. I didn't want to get love—or whatever passed for it—through deceit.

Love born from manipulation could never be sincere, never truly fulfilling.

I decided I needed to talk to Ai Hayasaka. I owed her an apology for emotionally blackmailing her using the baggage left behind by the previous owner of this body.

Sure, I'd been angry at the time, and she wasn't innocent either.

But that didn't give me the right to lash out at her, to twist the knife just because I could.

What kind of person did that make me? What difference would there be between me and any other bad guy?

Ai had already admitted her mistakes. She owned up to them.

And while I could've used her guilt to rub it in her face at every opportunity, to make her submit and accept my relationships with other girls because of it... I wouldn't. I couldn't.

Because what I wanted wasn't her submission.

I wanted her love.