Early the next morning, as Greg dragged his feet out of the dungeon and made his way toward the Student Council, his handsome face unreservedly wore a look of severe sleep deprivation and exhaustion.
This was not because he had encountered any terrifying night raids in the dungeon or been plagued by nightmares.
Quite the contrary; this was the result of his own choice.
He figured that even if he went to class, given his learning talent, he probably wouldn't gain much anyway. Since that was the case, he might as well catch up on sleep during the day and frantically grind the dungeon at night.
Thus, after a night of hard struggle, Greg's level had already risen to LV29. Moreover, he had deliberately hunted specific monsters to strengthen the acquired skills that might come in handy when tackling the second layer later on.
For example, Tentacle Entanglement—a skill he had initially thought was entirely useless—had its proficiency raised straight to LV3 in a single night once he realized its practicality.
He could now control five tentacles simultaneously, and the strength of each tentacle had also been enhanced to a degree, increasing its overall versatility once more.
In addition, just to be safe, Greg had also ground his Ice Magic Resistance from LV1 to LV3. Now, he had a thirty percent damage reduction against ice-attribute magic.
While thirty percent did not sound particularly high, for the human race, this rate of damage reduction was actually beyond absurd.
In common knowledge, humans were innately weak when it came to magic resistance, especially targeted resistance against specific attributes.
Powerful magic resistance was typically an innate privilege or racial talent belonging to special races such as High Demons, the Dragon race, or High Elves.
For an ordinary human to raise resistance against a single attribute above ten percent through acquired training or special opportunities was already no small feat.
Reaching twenty percent was enough to be called a Resistance Variant.
Yet someone like Greg, who achieved a thirty percent reduction in ice damage purely by leveling up a skill...
If the Magic Defense professors at the academy found out, they would likely drag him straight into a laboratory to research him thoroughly from head to toe, eager to know whether he had mutated or possessed the bloodline of some mysterious race.
In any case, Greg himself was quite satisfied with this result.
A thirty percent damage reduction could be the difference between life and death at a critical moment.
Of course, last night had not been entirely smooth sailing in terms of upgrades.
The only thing Greg felt somewhat regretful about was the Insubstantiality skill.
This skill, which was practically a divine life-saving ability, required killing Shadow-eater Beasts for a chance at dropping skill fragments. However, Shadow-eater Beasts were elite enemies, making them rare and slow to spawn, which left him unable to raise its proficiency to LV2 for now.
"I can only take it slow... There's no rushing a life-saving skill like this. Anyway, with 【Dark-Erosion Armament】 and my boosted stats, my survivability is already much stronger."
Greg comforted himself this way.
Besides, last night had not been completely devoid of other gains.
While clearing various monsters, he had luckily obtained a few basic quality magic gems.
Although these basic gems could not be used together with the high-grade gem Greg had obtained, he could hoard them for now and sell them later, which would bring him a considerable sum of money.
"Sigh, instead of staying properly in the dungeon, thou art actually neglecting thy proper duties and running off to the academy—and thou even insisted on bringing me along. Honestly, I do not recall raising thee to be such a child."
Nightmare's helpless sigh suddenly sounded in Greg's mind.
Greg gritted his teeth. "Do you think I wanted to? And I don't recall ever being raised by you either!"
If not for being able to continue staying in this dungeon, Greg wouldn't have wanted to set foot on the surface at all.
As for why he had insisted on bringing Nightmare along this time?
The reason was simple: security while catching up on sleep.
Greg did not want to be instantly wiped out by some accident triggered by his damned -10 Luck stat while falling into a deep slumber from exhaustion.
Bringing Nightmare along was equivalent to carrying a high-perception alarm.
While he slept, this Goddess could keep watch over the surroundings, waking him immediately if any anomaly or danger approached.
This was far more reliable than any magical alarm or physical trap.
Though he had to endure her sharp tongue and wicked tastes... for the sake of his life, he would endure!
Thinking this, Greg finally arrived in front of the quaint stone building where the Student Council was located.
Rubbing his slightly aching temples, he pushed open the heavy wooden door.
Clang.
The sound of turning door hinges resounded inside the somewhat noisy room, and Greg stepped inside.
This time, the scene inside the Student Council office was completely different from yesterday morning when Yelena had been waiting alone.
It was no longer very early, and the Student Council's daily operations had already begun.
President Vivian was still seated upright in the head chair at the innermost part of the room, with quite a few documents stacked in front of her.
Her head was slightly lowered, her ice-blue eyes intently reviewing a report in her hands, while the profile of her face appeared sharp and cold under the morning light streaming through the window.
The quill pen in her hand moved occasionally, making a soft rustling sound, while her whole body naturally exuded an aura of efficiency and seriousness.
Meanwhile, several Student Council members were active in other areas of the room.
Yelena, that petite and cute third-year Senior, was currently trapped in a sweet predicament.
Surrounded by three or four girls in the middle, they seemed to be teasing her, chiming in back and forth with suppressed, crisp giggles.
Surrounded in the center, Yelena's round baby face was flushed bright red like a ripe apple, her large eyes filled with embarrassment and helplessness. She shook her head vigorously while softly murmuring excuses or denials, but her flustered appearance only made the surrounding girls laugh even harder.
On the other side of the room, near the window, sat three boys.
Some documents or books were spread out before them, pens in hand, making them look as if they were focusing on their work.
However, upon closer inspection, one would notice that the focus of their gaze was not on the paper in front of them; instead, their eyes drifted time and again toward where the girls were gathered, particularly toward Yelena in the center.
Mixed within those glances was the curiosity and yearning typical of adolescent boys watching interactions within a group of girls.
The moment Greg pushed open the Student Council door and stepped into the room, the air seemed to freeze for a split second.
Gazes carrying various emotions gathered all at once onto the blond youth standing at the doorway.
They had already learned yesterday that Greg had temporarily joined the Student Council as a Disciplinary Committee member.
Yet knowing it was one thing, but seeing him with their own eyes grandly stride into this Student Council office—the very symbol of academy student elites and core order—was quite another.
The visual and cognitive shock still delivered no small jolt to the minds of many present.
The laughter among the girls came to a sudden halt.
They first widened their eyes in surprise, their eyes resting on Greg's face for a few seconds as if momentarily stunned by the lethal charm of his appearance.
But soon, they exchanged a few glances with one another, their lips curling back into arcs filled with gossipy amusement.
One of the girls leaned into the ear of the red-faced Yelena, whispering something quickly in a low voice.
Upon hearing it, Yelena shuddered violently like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. Her face turned even redder, her head shaking like a rattle drum, while she hastily stammered out low protests like "It's not like that!" and "Don't talk nonsense!"
Her frantic denial and irresistible embarrassment only confirmed the girls' suspicion, prompting them to cover their mouths and chuckle softly, their eyes flitting between Yelena and Greg with eager anticipation for drama.
On the other side, the boys who had been secretly peeking at the girls had their attention instantly drawn to Greg the moment he walked in.
At first, surprise flashed through their eyes, but it was quickly replaced by another emotion—clear dissatisfaction and subtle hostility.
This hostility did not stem from any deep feud, but was mostly born from an instinctive sense of rivalry and exclusion.
To them, Greg's face was a provocation in itself.
However, after exchanging a few glances and conversing rapidly in hushed tones, the dissatisfaction and hostility on their faces were gradually overtaken by a different emotion—
a strange sense of superiority mixed with contempt and even a hint of pity.
Greg acutely caught the shift in the boys' expressions, feeling a wave of absurdity and amusement in his heart.
Frankly, he had no idea where their sense of superiority even came from.
After all, in the original game, they were minor characters without even character sprites, whereas the great Greg Sass not only possessed exclusive character sprites, but also had 1,386 personal CGs!
What did they have to compare with him?
Greg gave an unceremonious internal rant, then shook his head, deciding not to stoop to their level.
He didn't plan on truly integrating into this Student Council anyway. Once he secured the qualification to represent the academy in the Five Academy Tournament, he would immediately apply to quit, and at that point, even that thrill-seeker Headmistress wouldn't have any excuse to keep him around.
With that thought, Greg scanned his gaze around the room, finally letting it settle on an inconspicuous spot in the corner.
Walking straight over, he pulled out a chair and sat down with a thud.
Then, without hesitation, he closed his eyes, leaned back against the chair, and assumed a posture of "I'm catching up on sleep, do not disturb."
After all, last night's high-intensity dungeon battles, while yielding rich rewards, had indeed drained a great deal of his physical strength and energy.
Therefore, taking every opportunity to rest up was necessary for him.
However, the tree may prefer calm, but the wind does not subside.
Greg had intended to take a quiet nap, but the boys who had just established their inexplicable sense of superiority clearly had no intention of passing up this chance to teach the newcomer a lesson—especially an opportunity to flex their status and authority in front of the girls.
Rate on N.U.
