Issei lay on his bed, examining the ornate metallic gauntlet on his hand, tight enough to be mistaken for a grafted prosthetic by a casual observer. Its presence was unbelievable. When he woke up, Issei had been ready to write off the disjointed memories of the previous night as a particularly nasty dream. A dream where his date for the day had sprouted blackened wings and attempted to kill him, an aim she seemingly succeeded at. Issei remembered the creeping cold as his blood flowed out unrestricted, blackness invading his vision.

He was ready to write those impressions off, if he didn't also remember the sudden appearance of a weird gauntlet, the same one that he was currently sporting over his left hand. He also remembered the rush of energy flowing to his body with the gauntlets appearance, an energy potent enough to counter the weakness borne the blood loss, momentarily at least. He would have said it was a figment of his overactive imagination, if it wasn't for the same rush of power, flowing through his veins, energizing him even better than the darkest coffee.

Despite all, he still managed to maintain a slight hope that all was just a dream. Maybe not the gauntlet part, he corrected himself, as rejecting something he could see and feel was a difficult thing. In that way, the madness lay. Still, there was the hope that the other parts were just a figment of his imagination; fake girlfriend with midnight black wings, burning spears made from pure light, and a flash crimson hair that came to his field of vision just before he fainted, and the wound that drained him of his life-blood…

He decided to solve it once and for all. He would check his wound, to see whether he had a wound there. With that in mind, he stood up and pulled his pajama top, hoping only to see his flat stomach, sculpted by his ambitious exercise program…

But he found a big, red, ugly scar on his left side instead, the exact spot that was penetrated by the spear of light. It didn't look like a recent wound. It was months-old, or at least it appeared so, but that didn't change its importance. It was there, evidence of a wound he hoped to be imaginary. "Fuck," he murmured. What had he done to deserve finding himself middle of something clearly supernatural like this? He was just a normal high school student working towards his perfectly reasonable goal of having a harem!

But a magical gauntlet in his arm, and memories of a barely unsuccessful assassination attempt in his mind, it didn't take a genius to realize his life was about to change, for good or not, he didn't know. After a moment's indecision, he shrugged, trying to look at the positive side. Maybe the sudden supernatural turn would make his life's objective of having an amazing harem easier.

Just the thought about his future life was enough to destroy the cloud of depression that was threatening to set over him. He jumped off his bed, though he wasn't ready for jumping three meters forward. His reflexes were the only reason he hadn't head-butted the wall painfully. "Okay," he murmured. "Apparently, the rush of energy I feel isn't just a figment of my imagination." He felt curious about the exact effect of the gauntlet. He was feeling stronger, but for how much, he wasn't sure. He walked towards the corner of the room, where he kept his weight training materials, and reached for a mid-sized dumbbell, one he would normally struggle to curl, only to be able to treat it like it weighed as much as a water bottle. "Curious," he murmured, and moved to the next weight.

Five minutes later, he was looking at his gauntlet once more, this time with astonishment. He was easily able to curl his previous bench-press record, an unbelievable achievement to itself. Moreover, he didn't even felt tired, not even a bit. More testing was required, he decided, and not just because he felt curious about the changes. He wanted to be ready in the case of something unexpected happening again.

He had a feeling that it wasn't the last time he saw his killer date.

Three hours later, he was walking towards the school after a quick break for a shower and a change. He was dressed in his school uniform, and his gauntlet was absent. He was lucky that summoning and dismissing the gauntlet was pretty straightforward, requiring just a thought. He was tired from all the exercises, and the mortal wound he received the previous night wasn't exactly beneficial in that dimension.

It was an interesting activity, trying to examine the changes in his body. He hadn't realized the rush of energy wasn't limited to the times when the gauntlet was apparent. Even without it, his body felt different, though, in what way, Issei wasn't sure. But the improvements weren't just simple incremental changes. During his tests, he managed to run hundred meter dash in less than five seconds, and he managed to benchpress more than half a ton relatively easily. Not to mention, if his basic tests were accurate, even his thoughts were faster compared to yesterday.

Still, none of the changes surprised him as bad as the sudden prodigal understanding of any written and spoken language. All the others, he could try to find a rational explanation for, but sudden and perfect comprehension of any written language defied any explanation. He even managed to score perfectly in Mandarin, Polish, and Swahili reading comprehension tests he took online, underpinning the ridiculousness of his situation.

Though, not all changes were positive, he noted as he sent an annoyed glare to the Sun. Whatever happened to his body also brought an extreme sensitivity towards the light, so much that he could actively feel every second he spent under its angry gaze sapping a bit of his energy.

With his mind busy comprehending the changes he went through, it wasn't unexpected that he had missed a certain presence hiding in the gate's shadow. "Hyoudou Issei," a familiar voice intoned. "You are late."

It was a voice Issei normally welcomed, leveraging those opportunities to try seducing the source despite his non-existent progress, but in his current exhausted state, it felt like a chore. He turned towards the source. "Kaichou," he said simply.

"You're late," Sona repeated, both her face and her voice impassive as usual. "I distinctly remember a deal that requires you to arrive the school in time, one you agreed after your latest mishap."

Issei struggled to prevent a blush appearing on his face at the mention of the event, though he wasn't sure about his success. "Sorry to break it, but I was a bit under the weather," Issei said. An unfamiliar expression flashed on Sona's face, but it was gone before Issei could identify.

"Nothing serious, I presume," Sona said, her face stony once again.

"I feel better already," Issei answered. "I need to go if I'm to catch the next class," he added, and walked away. Normally, he would have spent a few minutes trying to rile up the thorny, yet beautiful flower of the student council, but he wasn't in the mood, listless and irritated under the angry glare of the Sun. Later, he promised himself, despite the low probability of his eventual success. She was obsessed with chess, and he had a hunch that she wouldn't be really attracted to anyone unless they were able to stand their ground against her. Which was a big problem. She was amazing at chess, and Issei doubted he would be able to reach her level without studying for years, making her a long-shot at best.

Distracted by his thoughts, he was barely paying attention as he traversed the corridors when he received a sudden shout from his survival instincts. He ducked, and the sharp sound of a wooden shinai hitting to the concrete wall filled the corridor. Issei raised his eyes, only to see the captain of the Kendo club, Katase, standing in front of him, his sword extended above his head, anger distorting her sweet face. "Worm," she said, her anger palpable, then threw the ruined remains of his camera on his feet. Several other members of the club standing behind her, sporting their own shinais didn't make him any more comfortable about the whole situation.

Damn, Issei thought, looking at the camera he had hidden on one of the unused lockers. With that camera discovered, he only had four cameras left in the girls' locker room, which meant his 360-degree coverage was compromised. Still, Katase was already recovered from her missing strike, readying another one, which gave him more priority issues. "You'll never take me alive," Issei exclaimed, and dashed away, a smile on his face. Only after he took several steps, the distance between him and the others stretching unbelievably long, Issei remembered to limit his speed to believable levels.

Still, even with the limit, Issei was far too proficient in running away from furious groups of women, and soon, he managed to ditch his followers as he sneaked towards the rarely used storage section of the school, conveniently located in the basement. Soon, he was in the storage room, safely away from his angry followers.

Or so he thought, until he felt the familiar presence of a shinai pressing to his back. "I found you, you bastard," said Murayama, vice-captain of the Kendo club. Her voice was angry, but it was a different anger than Katase's, laced with playfulness.

"Really," Issei said even as he turned towards her in a lightning, grabbed her sword, and pulled it off her hands with one hard tug. "What are you going to do, now that you found me, but without your precious weapon."

"Give me my shinai-" she started, only to get silenced when Issei took a step towards her and pressed his lips to hers. She stiffened for a second before she placed her hands on his torso, but on his back instead of his torso. She pressed her fingers into his skin, hard enough to risk drawing blood, but Issei didn't break the kiss. Though, he doubted he would be able to, with one of her hands back of his neck, holding firmly, ensuring he wouldn't be able to pull back easily.

Not that it was a problem. He pressed his tongue against her lips, which parted in a familiar manner, ready to accommodate his presence. Their kiss lasted until she pulled away from Issei for a breath, though Issei was unprepared for the slap that was followed her.

"What was that for," Issei asked puzzled, but not overly disturbed. Murayama had always been a girl with violent tendencies, and that made her even more attractive.

"That's because you didn't come to the club room last evening, leaving me waiting," she said in anger.

"I told you, girl, I had another date," Issei answered in exasperation.

She looked at him angrily. "No, you most certainly didn't tell me anything like that, not that I would believe such an empty boast even if you told me. Who would date a pervert like you," she said scathingly.

"Apart from a certain kinky vice-captain of the Kendo Club," Issei answered, holding himself back from giving other names. He knew that half the reason she pushed him like that was to learn who else he was being together with. Issei might be a shameless pervert, but he had some principles, his aversion to kissing and telling being one of them.

"Don't be a braggart, Issei, who would date with a shameless pervert like you," she said.

Issei barely held back a laugh, impressed with her ability to double-think. Here she was, admonishing him about his perversion and his lack of attractiveness even as her hands were passing over the buttons of her shirt, revealing her bra to his gaze. She was weird…

But it was a certain kind of tasty weirdness, backed by a stunning body she kept in excellent shape with daily exercises, so Issei said nothing about her hypocrisy as he watched Murayama reducing her clothing just to a skirt, the shape of her firm breasts highlighted by the soft light in the room. The view was enough to trigger an arousal thick enough to strain his self-control, thick enough to burn the last remaining pieces of his lingering exhaustion.

His energy renewed, he leaned to her lips once more. This time, she wasn't passive like a moment ago. Her lips did her best to devour Issei's, her tongue battling for supremacy in a skirmish it was destined to lose. A detail she didn't care much, evidenced by her hands, busy trying to get Issei away from his clothes. Issei's hands focused on her naked skin, caressing her spectacular breasts. She had one of the best breasts in the whole school. It wasn't as good as Rias Gremory and Akeno Himejima of course, but unfortunately, these women lay outside Issei's reach. They weren't interested in him, evidenced by their dismissive attitude first few times Issei tried to seduce them, and Issei didn't have any excuse for repeated contact, which in turn allow Issei to slowly work to build an attraction.

At least for Rias, he corrected himself. There was one opportunity he could use to get closer to Akeno, but he rejected it out of principle. Akeno, in one of the rare times they were able to talk, implied that she might be interested to play with him if he takes the submissive position. Unfortunately, that was unacceptable for Issei. After all, how could he become the harem king if he became the plaything of a woman, no matter how attractive she was.

A set of nails, scratching his skin hard enough to leave red thin lines, brought him back to the present. Murayama pulled out of the kiss, her expression smug. "This is the punishment for getting distracted," she said.

"So, we are moving to the punishment stage then," Issei said in a perfectly calm tone, even as he unbuckled his pants and pulled his cock out. The sudden mixture of panic and arousal in her eyes was delicious, but Issei put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her on her knees, and before she could say anything, his shaft was already inside her mouth.

Murayama showed no sign of discomfort with the Issei's way of silencing her. Her wet lips wrapped around his girth, her head bobbed back and forth, causing a sharp burst of pleasure inside him. But the pleasure awakened a set of instincts, overwhelming Issei's mind. When he realized what was going on almost a minute later, his hands were already firmly on her head, keeping it in place as he pushed his shaft mercilessly deep into her throat. Thankfully, Murayama seemed satisfied with the sudden change of pace, only occasional gagging interrupting her moans. Seeing no reason to change the pace since she apparently had no problem with rougher than his usual treatment, Issei turned his thoughts inward, trying to think the reason for his sudden change.

The answer was hard to find. It had been less than twenty-four hours since the almost successful attempt on his life, an attempt that changed his body radical enough that he was outside what he could call baseline human. The sudden increase of aggression could be a side-effect of that, or it could be also about the physiological impact of his recent brush with death. He shrugged, not overly concerned with it. As long as he could combat them through rough sex, they weren't really a threat.

Deciding to cut his thoughts short, he turned his attention back to the service he was still receiving, Murayama's lips, a bit bruised due to his rough attention, was still around his shaft, trying to extract his release, but with a slight difference. Her tongue also joined the fray, assisting her lips in their task of bringing his release.

It was better not to keep such a beautiful woman waiting, Issei thought even as he leaned forward and captured her breasts, perky and perfectly shaped, and sank his fingers into her tantalizing flesh. She continued bobbing her head, not even registering the absence of hands. It hadn't taken long until Issei felt something trigger inside himself. Murayama pulled a few seconds later, her mouth filled with the pearly liquid, in which she spat on the ground next to her, her face blurred with pleasure.

Issei was suddenly struck with a temptation to punish her for her insolence, wasting his seed, but he held himself back the last second, realizing the ridiculousness of the situation. Apparently, his instincts might be a bigger problem than he initially envisioned.

Still, it wasn't all bad, Issei thought as he noticed his cock coming back to life just seconds later instead of the minute it usually takes. He grabbed and lifted Murayama, her weight almost feather-like thanks to his recent boost in strength. When he lay her on the table, could touch of the table brought her back to the land of consciousness, Issei already between her legs, pulling her panties, soppy wet with her arousal. She waited until she was free of the constraint her panties afforded, then parted her legs, her nether lips glistening in invitation.

Issei barely kept himself from snorting in amusement, knowing it wouldn't be welcome at this stage. He was always struck by how easy was to destroy all self-control they displayed despite all the anger and condemnation they had about the evil of the perversion. A statement Issei disagreed vehemently, sex, female body, and masturbation were the great gifts the Creator gave the humanity, claiming they were evil was the real Devil's work.

Still, Issei wasn't a man that could spend too much time with his thoughts when a pair of legs were parted invitingly in front of him. He pushed forward, about to push inside her, only to be interrupted by the door opening, followed by a cry of feminine fury, coming from a familiar voice. A sound which belonged to the captain of the Kendo club, Katase.