My Succubus Harem System In The Reverse World

"Let me try it."

Jenna let out a long breath, her posture relaxing just a fraction as she leaned back against the central console.

"You don’t have to rush this, Rev," she said, her tone shedding the sharp edge of the Guildmaster.

"I know," I answered, keeping my hands buried in my pockets.

"I just want to know where I stand. If I’m walking around as a hazard to anyone I get close to, I need to know the actual limits."

Jenna studied my face for a long second, searching for any signs of panic.

Whatever she found must have reassured her, because she gave a slight nod and glanced over at Mira.

Mira took the cue, gathering her tablet and slipping through the automatic doors into the adjacent lab to prep the equipment.

The moment the glass doors shut behind her, the atmosphere in the room shifted.

Jenna crossed her arms, tilting her head as a very playful glint returned to her eyes.

"So...," Jenna began, her voice dropping to a conversational murmur.

"How was she?"

I blinked, playing dumb.

"Who?"

"Stop pretending," she chuckled, shaking her head.

"I am the one paying for the sensors you tripped. Tell me."

A reluctant smile broke across my face, despite the lingering dread pooling in my stomach.

I looked away, staring at the blank monitor beside us.

"It was different."

"Different how? You’ve had me yesterday."

"I know. And I thought that was just how it was going to be. I thought my powers would just make others addicted to me. Like some kind of survival mechanism the system wired into me so I wouldn’t die in a dungeon."

I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated by my own lack of understanding.

"I thought it was a one-way street. I take, they give, they get addicted. But Gianna was different."

"How?"

Jenna prompted, her voice gentle but demanding the truth.

"Because it wasn’t just about pulling her mana," I confessed, the realization settling heavily over me.

"I actually want more of her. Just her. Not her stats, not her rank. If the system didn’t exist right now, I would still want her pinning me against that wall."

Jenna watched me carefully, the amusement fading into something far more protective.

She was a Guildmaster, yes, but she was looking at me like a mother dealing with a boy playing with live explosives.

"You remember the boundaries we discussed?"

"Yes. Of course I do," I promised, meeting her gaze head-on.

"Keep my distance. Don’t push her past her limits. Don’t take it all the way. Don’t shatter her core."

"Good," Jenna nodded firmly.

"At least until you learn how to handle the power. You can’t let your instincts drive the car, Revien. You have to be the one holding the wheel."

"I hear you," I sighed.

"A mother is a mother, no matter what."

Jenna started smiling, a dangerous expression that told me she was about to lay down a threat.

"If you ever have to choose between me and my daughter—"

"Oh, stop that, please," I cut her off instantly, holding up a hand. "You already know the answer to that."

"Do I?" she challenged, raising an eyebrow.

"I would break my own core before I let anything happen to either of you," I replied, meeting her gaze head-on without blinking.

"I don’t play favorites. You are both safe with me."

Jenna’s smile turned genuine.

"You’re lying. You like her, don’t you?"

Before she could push the interrogation any further, the lab doors slid open. Mira walked back in, carrying a small metal case.

"What are you two discussing?" Mira asked, her eyes darting between us suspiciously as she set the case on the table.

"Nothing," Jenna and I replied in unison.

Mira judged us silently for a long moment, clearly unconvinced, before opening the case.

She reached inside and pulled out a transparent ball made of glass. She held it out to me.

I took it.

The second the glass touched my skin, the transparent surface flared into a deep red.

"That detects your active mana," Mira explained, pushing her glasses up.

"It reads the ambient energy you are bleeding into the air."

Then she reached into the case again and handed me a small patch. It looked like a piece of high-tech adhesive.

I turned it over in my palm, examining the tiny integrated circuits running along the edges.

"What is it?"

"The training room recorded everything during your sparring session," Mira said, tapping a rhythm on her tablet.

"Every spike in your pulse. The exact moment your skin flushed. The precise shift in your core temperature when you pinned her against the glass."

"That sounds invasive."

"It’s data," she corrected easily, tossing the comment aside.

"Put this on the back of your neck. It taps directly into your nervous system."

Huh?

I swallowed hard, looking from the small device to the fragile red core resting in my other hand.

"Let me get this straight. You are going to simulate the exact feeling of making out with Gianna, and while my body is convinced it is happening, I have to hold this delicate mana core..."

"And not break it," Mira finished, looking up with a very serious expression.

"Your instincts will scream at you to release energy. The patch will make your blood run hot. But you have to stare at the monitor and force your mana output to stay entirely flat."

I stared at her, waiting for the punchline, but she was dead serious.

"And if I slip up?"

Mira gestured to a small metal bin sitting in the corner of the room. It was currently empty.

"Then you sweep up the mess, bandage your hands, and we try again until you learn how to separate your rational mind from your class instincts."

I peeled the backing off the patch, feeling the sticky adhesive catch on my thumb. I guess this was the hidden price of having an overpowered support class.

Nothing came for free.

"Fine," I sighed, reaching around to press the device to the base of my neck.

I turned and stepped into the adjacent testing room, making sure I was out of the way just in case I made a mess on the floor.

I felt a tiny prick, like a needle finding a vein.

"Turn it on."

Mira didn’t hesitate. She tapped a button on her screen.

Instantly, a phantom heat bloomed across my chest.

My breath hitched in my throat as the ghostly, undeniable sensation of Gianna’s fingers tangled roughly in my hair.

The scent of her boy’s sweat flooded my senses, so vivid I actually leaned forward.

My heart rate spiked instantly, a wild drumming echoing in my ears, and my class instincts roared to life, eager to feed on the connection.

A raspy voice echoed in my mind.

"...Harder."