Reincarnated as the Only Male in an All-Girls Magic Academy!-Chapter 19: The Bet.

The pathway had become a battlefield, and Ren stood at the center like a chess master before a board full of rooks with broken egos.

The four girls hadn't moved yet. They were watching, waiting, thinking this was intimidation.

But Ren didn't need to act tough. He only needed them to make one mistake.

His eyes swept the hallway with speed so fast it could be mistaken for a flicker of fear, but in truth, it was calculation.

He had no spear, no sword, no flashy robes or martial aura. But what he did have was a fully trained mind backed by a scientist's ability to turn thoughts into weapons.

He'd already finished planning.

Step one: Light confusion.

He reached into his coat and gently pressed the second button on his shirt's lapel—an entirely mundane thing. But the gesture made the girl in front flinch.

He had carried out that move with such confidence that it had left no doubt in their minds that it meant something.

Well, it didn't.

Step two: Initiate threat illusion.

"Before you do anything stupid," Ren said in a calm, polite voice that only made things more terrifying, "you should probably know I already notified the Head Instructor and triggered a self-defense sequence. I have to say, she was right about using me as bait to fish out the bad eggs."

He hadn't. Not even close. They hadn't even met one time after the first orientation.

But the confidence in his tone and the faint glimmer of "wait, what?" that passed across their faces was more than enough.

The girls hesitated. That was all he needed.

"If I were you, I'd run. The instructor won't be too friendly when she arrives."

Their leader narrowed her eyes. "You think we're scared of you just because you know some tricks?"

"No," Ren said with a faint smile. "But you're definitely scared of what she would do."

Step three: Run!

There was no instructor anywhere, he had to erase himself from these evil girls' surroundings!

With a sudden pounce, Ren jumped onto the nearest window pane directly beside him, landed neatly at the ledge and kicked off using all his might.

Mid-air, he latched onto the base of a balcony directly opposite the window and pulled himself upward with tremendous strength.

And just like that, he had disappeared!

The moment he vanished, three of the girls yelled and lunged, but it was too late. His coat flared behind him, and he was already sprinting.

Hard!

They chased him, of course. He could hear their footsteps pounding behind him, voices barking curses, and even the hiss of magic building in the air.

He ducked behind a flower pot, flipped over another short railing, and slid across the smooth floor like he'd rehearsed it in a lab simulation.

His mind processed his location and escape route faster than their legs could run.

Shortest route to an open courtyard: 32 meters.

Interception window: 5 seconds.

Distance between threats: 14 meters and closing.

Outcome: 76% success rate... until now.

Just as he reached the open hall that led out of the orientation building, a blur of silver dropped from above like the moon had fallen just for him.

Thud.

He came to a skidding stop. His breath caught—not out of exhaustion, but out of sheer what the hell.

Standing calmly in front of him, a full head shorter yet radiating the composed pressure of a queen, was a girl with waist-length silver hair and eyes like violet galaxies.

Her expression was neutral. Cold. Almost blank.

But her presence?

Titanic.

She wasn't trying to stop him with threats. She didn't have to. She simply existed and the entire hallway obeyed.

"Ren, isn't it?" she asked, voice soft, almost curious. "Mirabella Von Frostweave."

Behind him, the four girls came to a halt too late. Their faces were red, furious, flustered. But not one of them dared move past Mirabella.

In fact, they merely gave Ren one last furious glare and then bolted.

Ren adjusted his stance, caught completely off-guard.

"You know my name?" he asked warily, trying to determine her angle.

Mirabella gave a small nod. "I've been watching you. You're... peculiar."

"I get that a lot."

"I'd like you to join my guild," she said plainly.

Ren blinked.

"What?"

"I'm starting a new guild," she repeated. "And I want you in it."

Just like that.

No threats. No flattery. No dramatic speech about her vision. She simply stated it as though it were obvious.

Like she had seen a storm in the distance and decided to own the lightning.

Ren tilted his head slightly.

"I just escaped four emotionally unstable tanks, and now I'm being invited to a guild?"

Mirabella shrugged, almost amused. "That's exactly why I want you. You're definitely smart. You calculate. You improvise. You will survive."

He stared at her.

Then laughed softly, running a hand through his silver hair.

He hadn't expected this twist.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Ren studied her with the wary patience of a man examining a bomb he wasn't sure was ticking. Mirabella Von Frostweave didn't move either.

She just stood there, arms crossed, silver hair catching the light like a river of moonlight, and violet eyes as unreadable as a sealed vault.

This wasn't some casual encounter. That much was obvious. This girl hadn't intercepted him by accident.

"I'll admit," Ren said eventually, folding his hands behind his back like a professor about to lecture a rowdy class, "you caught me off-guard."

"I planned to," Mirabella replied smoothly, tone polite but steeped in confidence. "It was the most efficient way to make sure you listened."

He raised an eyebrow. "So you're aware that your classmates were trying to pummel me?" ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

She waved a hand casually, as if brushing dust off a priceless artifact. "Irrelevant. You handled them. That's what mattered."

Ren squinted. "That's your recruiting pitch? Send some unstable muscleheads after me and see if I survive long enough to get the honor of your attention?"

"I don't need average minds in my guild," she said simply. "I need vision. Guts. People who can walk through a storm and carry the wind with them."

"Uh-huh." Ren tapped his chin thoughtfully. "And you're offering me... what, exactly?"

"The vice-guild master position," she said without flinching.

Silence.

Ren blinked.

He looked around the hallway, suspiciously. "You're joking," he said.

"I never joke," she said.

Ren laughed once, out loud. "You truly met me less than sixty seconds ago."

"And that was enough," she said. "You're the only male weaver in recorded history, you solved twenty-six riddles in one night, and you made four girls look like flailing toddlers while escaping with an elegant flair."

She stepped forward, eyes glittering. "You're valuable, Ren. And I want to make use of you before someone else does."

Her words didn't offend him. Actually, they confirmed his suspicions.

This wasn't about friendship. It wasn't even about potential.

This was politics.

And that meant danger.

Ren's mind raced. Weaver families... That term had already come up in several library records.

Ancient bloodlines tied to the Loom, each with generations of exclusive carving knowledge, territorial power, and arcane influence across the Academy and beyond.

Some trained like cults. Others operated like noble clans. But all of them had one thing in common: they hated unknown variables.

Ren was the biggest unknown of all.

And Mirabella Von Frostweave? She wasn't just a talented new student. She was from one of those families.

That explained the confidence. That explained the bluntness. But what it didn't explain was why someone like her would hand him power so easily.

Unless...

She didn't see it as power.

She saw it as a leash.

Ren's eyes narrowed. "I appreciate the offer," he said, voice polite but edged with something sharper. "But I'm not ready to tie myself to any faction just yet."

Mirabella didn't even flinch. She had probably expected that answer.

"Still playing it cautious, I see."

"I prefer to understand the game board before I pick a color," Ren replied.

"Fair," she said with a small nod. "But how about this..."

She stepped closer, and this time, her smirk was unmistakably bold.

"...Why don't we make a bet?"

Ren's eyebrow arched. "I'm listening."

"In two weeks, we'll face each other in the public arena. One-on-one. No interference, no items, no tricks. If I win, you join my guild—no excuses, no escape clauses."

He crossed his arms. "And if I win?"

Her next words came like a bomb wrapped in silk.

"Then I'm yours."

Ren coughed. "Wait, what?"

"I'll work under you. For a year. You'll have complete control over my efforts, and I'll act as your subordinate in any way you want. Strategist, assistant, sparring partner. Or even—" her eyes flashed with seductive mischief, "—a secretary."

Ren paused. That... didn't sound like someone making a stupid bet.

It sounded like someone betting on certainty.

And that made him hesitate.

Mirabella Von Frostweave wasn't being arrogant. She wasn't being cocky. She was being logical.

She knew exactly what she was worth, and she wasn't afraid to put herself on the line because she fully believed there was zero chance of losing.

Ren's mind kicked into full analysis mode.

She may have been introduced to the Loom's awakening process the same time he had, but that didn't mean they were equals.

If she was from a Weaver family, she must've been carving since childhood. Her runes, muscle control, spatial awareness, fighting instinct—they'd all be far beyond his.

And even worse... she'd probably trained under people who already had evolved mental seas, refined skills, and full battle experience.

In contrast?

Ren had two weeks, a few thread exercises, and a bag full of questionably safe ideas.

And the Evolution Forge.

Ah... that's right.

He smirked.

She doesn't know about the Forge. She thought she was betting against a novice with some talent.

She didn't realize she was betting against a scientist with a cheat code!

Ren extended his hand, and Mirabella shook it with that same unblinking confidence.

"Deal," he said. "Two weeks from now. Arena."

Her smile deepened. "Prepare yourself, Ren."

"Oh, I'm not worried," he replied with a calm glint in his eyes. "I evolve fast."