Lewd System: Every Scream and Moan is EXP-Chapter 251 : The Storm That Will Swallow Them
Inside the VIP room, a discussion was underway.
Lysandra maintained her cold face while inside she was drowning. Helpless. Watching the same people she had to call allies carve out the fate of a girl she had sworn to protect.
The other heads filled the room. The Elf King. The Dragon Empire King, Seraphina’s father
The Vampire King, Elira’s father, silent and calculating. Sylvie. The Pope, hands clasped in practiced composure.
The Dark Mage Academy’s cult leader. And the Martial Academy principal, leaned back like a man watching entertainment rather than deciding a life.
They had been discussing what came next. What to tell the public. What narrative would keep trust intact. How to spin the chaos into something they could all profit from.
Then the door opened.
Rather, it ceased to exist.
Both massive doors flew off their hinges and crashed inward. A knight guarding the entrance flew with them, his armored body slamming against the floor and skidding to a stop in the doorway.
He lay there like a doormat. Unconscious. Maybe worse.
A man walked in.
He planted his boot on the knight’s stomach. Then his chest. Then stepped clean over him into the room as if the body was an uneven tile he couldn’t be bothered to walk around.
Lysandra was the first to stand. "What do you think you are doing, Professor Jax?"
Anyone looking at him could see the murderous aura he carried. It wrapped around him like a second skin. But he was hiding it behind his playful face. For now.
"What? I didn’t do anything." He glanced back at the unconscious knight. "Haven’t killed him. Or any of the other guards. I just made them pass out so their sense of duty doesn’t earn them a spot in the grave."
His grin widened.
"That’s the last thing I need right now. I still have my quota of killing people for the day to fill, and I’d rather not waste it on small fries."
Sylvie spoke next. Her voice carried an urgency she rarely showed. "Jax, snap out of it. Control your anger before it consumes you. I know you’d be upset about—"
"Control my anger?"
The playful mask slipped. What came through wasn’t a crack. It was a fissure.
"It’s too late for that, Sylvie. I’ve been patient. Longer than I ever should have. I was a fool to think I should build a new character. That I should play nice. Faking every single smile while swallowing everything I despise about the real demons sitting on their thrones."
His eyes swept the room.
"If I wasn’t so obsessed with crafting a different identity for myself, if I hadn’t bound my own hands with my own stupidity, some very specific people in this room wouldn’t have been destined to see today’s sun."
The Martial Academy principal laughed from his chair. Didn’t stand. Didn’t even straighten up.
"Oh boy, you really are the retarded one, aren’t you? Do you even hear what you’re saying? Do you know who you’re threatening?"
Before Jax could respond, a voice came from the far end of the room.
"Professor... stop it. You don’t have to—"
A cough swallowed the rest. Weak. Empty. The sound of a body that had nothing left to give.
Jax’s head turned to the extreme right.
Lilith was bound to the wall. Shackles locked around her wrists and thighs. Around her chest sat a metallic runic plate that Jax recognized instantly.
Standard equipment for high-threat prisoners. It drained mana continuously, sucking its host dry until they couldn’t lift a finger let alone fight back.
His blood boiled. The mana around him started leaking out involuntarily, pressing against every person in the room.
He walked to her. Raised her head by the jaw. Looked at her face.
"Was she crying?"
Lysandra’s voice cut in. "Professor, leave this instant."
Jax didn’t look at her. His tone dropped heavier. "That wasn’t what I asked. Tell me who made her cry. Who put these bindings on her?"
Silence. The room held its breath.
Jax drew his sword and swung toward the shackles.
An invisible force caught the tip of his blade mid-arc. Holding it frozen in the air.
His eyes snapped to Lysandra. He wrenched his sword free from her telekinetic grip and pointed it in her direction.
"Headmistress. This is the last warning. Don’t meddle with my affairs. Don’t make me lose the little respect I still have for you after knowing how you protected her all these years."
His voice tightened like a wire about to snap.
"Are you really ready to sacrifice her to these morons’ scheming? If so, then I won’t hesitate to bring one more head down."
The guilt hit Lysandra harder than any blade could. She knew what she was. A coward. Unable to keep her own promise while a young man who owed this girl nothing stood alone in a room full of the most powerful people alive, knowing full well it was suicide.
The Dragon Empire King spoke. His deep voice filling the room without effort.
"There’s an old saying. The weak always seek fights without knowing their place. Watching this boy act high and mighty before us reminds me of exactly that."
Jax grinned.
"I may be the weakest person in this room, Your Majesty. And you’re right. That saying is entirely true."
He took a step forward.
"The strong know their place because they’re comfortable. Fed. Protected. Sitting on thrones so long they’ve forgotten the floor exists. They don’t seek fights because they have nothing left to fight for."
Another step.
"But the weak? The weak have empty stomachs and nothing to lose. A starving wolf doesn’t pause to check whether the throat in front of it belongs to a shepherd or a king. It just bites. And the hungrier it is, the deeper the teeth go."
He met the Dragon King’s eyes.
"You’re absolutely right. I don’t know my place. Which means there is nothing, no boundary, no law, no throne, keeping me from ripping you off yours."
The Dragon King’s fingers twitched against the armrest.
The Pope spoke before the room could combust. His voice measured. Diplomatic.
"We should act wisely." He addressed the Dragon King first. "The boy is young. He hasn’t seen the real world. As adults, we should guide him. Not provoke him into losing what little composure he has left."
He turned to Jax. His tone shifting to something practiced and fatherly.
"My Child, I don’t know what connection you share with that demon. But to make this short, she doesn’t deserve to live. The matters have already been discussed. The evidence is clear. Not only does she carry high-threat demon blood, she has also taken the lives of our comrades. Our children."
"How many?"
The Pope blinked. "Pardon?"
"How many of your so-called children do you believe she killed?"
The Pope’s expression tightened. "Everyone who didn’t return alive. Two of our students. And the most devastating loss of our—"
His voice cracked. Emotion surfacing. Whether genuine or rehearsed, Jax didn’t care.
He looked over his shoulder at Lilith. Head still hanging. Mouth sealed shut. Taking every accusation onto her own shoulders so no one else would burn.
She was absorbing all the blame.
Jax turned back to the Pope. "And why do you think she was the one who killed them?"
The Pope’s tone carried grief. "Because she accepted it."
"And you accepted that as truth? Just like that?"
Jax tilted his head. "Oh, dear Pope. Allow me to tell you what actually happened."
He raised his sword. The dried blood coating the blade caught the light of the room.
"This little friend of mine was behind everything that fell today."
He turned toward the Dark Mage Academy’s cult leader.
"First, it brutally severed every limb of that female professor from your academy. Piece by piece. Then came her student."
He shifted his gaze to the Martial Academy principal whose grin had finally died.
"Oh, and I didn’t bring back the other sword. The one that pierced that martial professor. What was his name again?" He tapped his chin as if recalling something trivial. "Ah. Amael. That blade hung the poor soul on a stone wall like a trophy."
He turned back to the Pope.
"And your beloved Cleenah? I killed her by wrapping a vine around her neck and suffocating her to death."
Everyone in the room stood. Chairs scraped. Jaws dropped. The silence that followed wasn’t disbelief. It was the sound of an entire room recalculating reality.
They didn’t believe his words. But they were horrified by the fact that he had said them at all. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎
Sylvie broke through. "Do you even know what you’re saying?! If you think taking her blame will save her, it’s useless, Jax. You know it as well as I do. Even if she didn’t kill anyone, she still has to die. Don’t throw your life away protecting her."
Jax looked at Sylvie. Then back at the Pope.
"And what makes you think I’m lying? I said what happened. It wasn’t her. It was my blade. My hands. My kills."
He sheathed his sword.
"But forget my word. We have the Pope right here, don’t we?" His smile returned. "And I can feel your presence wrapping around my mana right now. Scanning. Checking every syllable for a trace of deception."
He spread his arms wide.
"Am I right?"
The Pope’s hand flew to his mouth. Every shade of color drained from his face. His body lurched forward as if everything inside him was trying to exit through his throat.
He looked like a man about to vomit on sacred ground.
The others saw his reaction. They didn’t need him to open his mouth. Didn’t need a formal declaration. Didn’t need a single word of confirmation.
His face had already told them everything.
-x-X-x-
[A/N: I’ve been receiving a lot of love from you guys lately, and I think it’s mainly because of the current arc and for that I’m really grateful. I promise this arc will only escalate and get even better from here. Also, a huge shoutout to John_Frey_8197 and Michael_Henderson_3448 for dropping tons of Golden Tickets!]
