An Extra’s Rise in an Eroge

The commotion caused by Professor Samantha's announcement soon died out as the next class resumed after ten minutes break.

The classroom was eerily silent.

Not a whisper.

Not a mutter.

Just pure, focused anticipation.

It wasn't because the students were suddenly diligent or that they respected the schedule so much that they went silent exactly when the break ended.

No.

The reason was far more obvious.

It was because of who was about to walk through those doors.

Demonic Studies.

This class was different.

Not because of the topic.

But because of the instructor.

Professor Isabella.

The woman who had captivated the class from the very first lecture.

The woman whose presence was so intoxicating that students counted the days until her next lesson.

And today was that day.

The wait was finally over.

A soft clack of heels against the marble floor.

A commanding yet seductive presence swept into the classroom.

She had arrived.

All eyes—every single gaze in the room—snapped toward her.

A low, unconscious gulp echoed somewhere in the back, a sound of instinctual surrender.

Because today, Professor Isabella had chosen to torment them even further.

She wore her signature white blouse and black skirt—but this time, something was different.

There were no tights.

Her smooth, thick, flawless white legs were on full display.

With every step, the elegant sway of her hips became more hypnotic, and the slight bounce of her generous curves sent the classroom into silent chaos.

The students' attention was divided.

Some were entranced by the gentle, rhythmic sway of her chest.

Others found themselves unable to look away from those bare, sculpted thighs, imagining the softness their hands would never touch.

And Isabella?

She noticed.

Of course, she did.

As a succubus, she thrived in these moments.

She drank in the silent desperation of men falling under her spell.

She thrived off the jealousy simmering in the women's hearts.

And with a knowing smirk, she walked to the center of the classroom.

Facing the mesmerized class, Isabella's voice dripped with sultry amusement as she purred:

"Good morning, students."

Her voice alone felt like velvet wrapping around their senses.

"I trust you've all revised last week's lesson?"

The reply came—not in unison, but in dreamlike stupor.

"Yes… ma'am…"

The male students answered absentmindedly, their minds clouded by the succubus professor standing before them.

Meanwhile, the female students?

Their expressions darkened.

They could barely hold back their irritation as their boyfriends shamelessly drooled over the professor's every movement.

They hated how easily she could steal attention.

They hated how she played with the emotions of every man in the room.

And worst of all—

They hated the fact that she didn't even have to try.

But did Isabella care?

Not in the slightest.

With a sly smirk, she continued.

"Excellent." She ran a hand down her hip, as if adjusting her skirt—yet the motion was far too slow… far too deliberate.

"Shall we begin today's lesson, then?"

The class collectively exhaled, as if they had been holding their breath this entire time.

And then—

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Excellent."

Professor Isabella's voice carried a sensual undertone as she spoke, her eyes gleaming with hidden amusement.

"I was informed that you'll be going on a field exercise in a dungeon tomorrow. So, in today's class, I'll be explaining what type of monsters you'll be facing."

Turning to the blackboard, she picked up the chalk and began writing.

And yet—

No one paid attention.

Their eyes were elsewhere.

With each movement of her delicate wrist, the soft sway of her hips became impossible to ignore.

Her skirt—tantalizingly tight—clung to her ample curves, accentuating every shift, every step.

And then… the true torment began.

As she leaned forward to write, the hem of her skirt lifted ever so slightly, exposing just enough of her creamy thighs to set the entire classroom on fire.

Breaths were held.

Throats went dry.

Even Arthur, despite knowing she was a succubus, found it impossible to focus.

His eyes flickered between the blackboard and the professor's milky thighs.

She turned around, facing the students with a teasing glint in her crimson eyes.

"The dungeon you'll be entering is an E-level cleared zone."

Her fingers trailed along the desk as she walked, her movements slow and deliberate.

"That means the monsters inside are weak—perfect for gaining experience."

With a flick of her wrist, the hologram projector activated.

A three-dimensional image appeared in the center of the classroom—a small, green, scraggly creature with a long nose and beady eyes.

Goblins.

"This," she pointed gracefully at the projection, "is the most common monster you'll encounter inside."

The classroom stirred as students took out their notes, trying to shake off the professor's earlier distractions.

"They are small, weak—even a ten-year-old could take one down. However…"

Her gaze sharpened.

"Do not underestimate them."

The playful tone was gone, replaced by a cold warning.

"Goblins rely on numbers. They are never alone. If you see a goblin by itself, assume there are others hiding in ambush."

A shudder passed through some students as they absorbed the information.

"Never engage recklessly. Always communicate with your team before a frontal assault."

The students nodded, hurriedly jotting notes.

Isabella then swiped her finger in the air and the image changed.

The hologram shifted—what stood before them was similar to goblins, but bulkier, red-skinned, and far more menacing.

Unlike their smaller counterparts, these creatures radiated aggression.

Professor Isabella's sultry yet commanding voice broke the silence.

"These… are hobgoblins."

Her delicate fingers tapped the air, rotating the image so everyone could see its brutish physique, jagged weapons, and piercing yellow eyes.

"They are stronger, smarter, and far more dangerous than normal goblins. If you see one, assume there's an entire goblin tribe nearby."

Students instinctively gulped.

Some exchanged nervous glances, the previous excitement over dungeon exploration beginning to sour with apprehension.

"Unlike standard goblins, hobgoblins are capable of wielding weapons. In fact, they don't just craft their own…"

A slow smirk played on Isabella's lips.

"They prefer taking weapons from their fallen enemies."

A visible shudder passed through the room.