Before Greg could even keep his eyelids closed for a few seconds, the three boys exchanged knowing looks, tacit expressions spreading across their faces before they all stood up together and walked toward the corner where he was sitting.
Soon, they arrived in front of Greg, forming a loose semicircle that hemmed him and his chair into the corner, creating an unspoken posture of intimidation.
One of the boys with short brown hair spoke up first. "Hey, Greg. After being kicked out of your family, you're nothing more than a commoner now, right? So why aren't you getting up properly to greet us nobles when you see us?"
Another slightly taller boy chimed in immediately:
"Yeah! Besides, we heard... your level is still pitifully stuck around LV10? With that kind of strength, it's going to be pretty hard to get by in the academy now."
Leaning in a bit closer, he lowered his voice—just enough to ensure those nearby could still hear:
"Tell you what, since you just joined the Student Council and don't know any better, how about you do as we say from now on and handle the tasks we give you? Who knows... if we're in a good mood, we might even guide you a bit and teach you how to survive in this academy. How about it? That's a rare opportunity for someone like you."
The third boy, a relatively stocky red-haired teen, grinned and added:
"Oh right, right! What about that thing mentioned in the academy news earlier? Care to tell us how you managed to steal that kill? Don't worry, we definitely won't tell anyone else and make you lose face, hahaha."
Their words came one after another in seamless coordination, dripping with noble contempt for a commoner.
Damn it, my villain role should really be handed over to you guys to play instead.
These lines, this acting, this spirit of seeking death... it was a textbook example of begging for a beating.
Although Greg had originally made up his mind to lay low and try to avoid causing unnecessary trouble in the Student Council,
right now, these guys had brought their faces right up to his for an earful. If he continued to swallow his anger and pretend not to hear, that wouldn't be called laying low—that would be called spineless.
He, Greg Sass, could play it safe and act cowardly, but he would never let nameless small fry like this walk all over him!
Just as Greg's anger meter began to climb and he prepared to open his eyes to teach these three foolish fools a lesson—
A cold voice carrying unquestionable authority—one that seemed capable of instantly freezing the air—sounded without warning in the somewhat noisy room, ringing clearly in everyone's ears.
"Get outside and stand face-to-the-wall yourselves."
The voice was not loud, yet like an ice blade, it precisely cut off the three boys' endless provocation, causing all other whispers in the room to vanish instantly.
Hearing this, gloating expressions surfaced on the faces of the three boys surrounding Greg.
Because in their view, the President's words were undoubtedly directed at Greg Sass—the guy who came in wanting to sleep and acted so impolitely toward them, his seniors!
Immediately, the three boys simultaneously cast mocking and pitiful glances at Greg, who was still seated in his chair, as if saying: Kid, you're finished.
Seeing this, Greg pointed at himself in confusion. "What? Are you talking to me?"
In the next second, he was just about to rise up in fury and say: You're not my wife, why are you making me stand outside!
"Not you."
Vivian's voice came again.
Her gaze remained calmly on the document in her hand. She merely raised her eyelids slightly, her ice-blue eyes like a frozen lake sweeping over the three boys who were looking triumphantly at Greg, before adding in a tone utterly devoid of emotion:
"The other three."
"..."
Time seemed to freeze once more.
The entire Student Council room fell into a dead silence.
You could hear a pin drop.
The three boys' faces were like an overturned paint palette, shifting from a triumphant flush to a shocked paleness, then turning into an unbelievable crimson, before finally settling into an ashen gray mixed with shame, embarrassment, and deep confusion.
Their mouths agape and their eyes wide, they looked at Vivian, then at Greg, who looked equally bewildered. Their brains seemed to grind to a halt under the shock of this sudden turn of events.
"N-Not Greg Sass?! It's... it's us?!"
For a moment, they could not comprehend it.
Why?!
Didn't the President hate Greg Sass?!
We were clearly helping her teach this clueless guy a lesson!
Why did she stop us?! And even... punish us by making us stand outside?!
Immense confusion and the shame of being publicly slapped in the face bit at their hearts like venomous snakes.
The brown-haired boy among them seemed to want to struggle a bit more, attempting to defend themselves and save face:
"P-President... we were just... we saw him go to sleep as soon as he came in, without even greeting his Seniors. It was really too rude, so..."
He couldn't finish his sentence.
Vivian didn't even look up. The quill pen in her hand merely made a light scratching sound as it made a mark on a document before stopping.
"Do you have an objection to my decision?"
Her volume didn't rise, nor were there additional threatening words.
Yet this plain question, combined with her calm, soul-freezing ice-blue eyes, felt like a bucket of ice water dumped over the three boys' heads, chilling them from head to toe. Every word of defense or dissatisfaction was choked back down their throats.
They had no doubt that if they dared say one more word right now, what awaited them would hardly be as simple as standing outside.
Given this President's decisive and uncompromising style, it was entirely possible she would expel them directly from the Student Council or even report them to the academy for disciplinary action.
"...No."
In the end, the stockiest red-haired boy among the three squeezed a dry word from between his teeth.
He lowered his head, avoiding Vivian's gaze as well as the complex looks directed at them by the other members around the room.
"N-No objections."
The other two were also like defeated roosters, hanging their heads and chiming in softly.
"Then get outside and stand there."
Vivian lowered her head again, her eyes returning to the document as if she had merely handled a trivial matter. Her tone reverted to its usual plainness:
"Face the wall. Without my permission, you are not allowed to leave or speak."
The three didn't dare delay for even a second. With lowered heads and flushed faces, they shuffled stiffly toward the door of the Student Council room.
Their backs radiated utter humiliation and defeat.
Creak—
The door opened, and the three filed out one after another, then softly pulled it shut.
Immediately after, lowered, curious whispers from passing students drifted in from outside:
"Huh? Isn't that Senior XX from the Student Council? Why are they standing outside?"
"Facing the wall? Were they made to stand out there by the President?"
"What happened? They look so embarrassed..."
"I don't know, it sounded like something happened inside earlier..."
Those fragmented whispers, like needle tips, penetrated the not entirely soundproof door and drifted inside, making the three outside wish they could dig a hole and crawl into it.
It was easy to imagine that before long, news of 'three male Student Council members being publicly forced to stand in the hallway by President Vivian' would spread through a small circle of the academy, becoming a dark history they couldn't shake off for a long time to come.
Inside the Student Council room, silence returned, even quieter than before.
Everyone's eyes cautiously and reverently flicked toward the blue-haired girl in the President's seat before quickly darting away, pretending to focus intently on whatever was in their hands, even their breathing involuntarily turning hushed.
The girls around Yelena had long stopped giggling, each sitting upright with eyes full of deep awe toward the President's authority and shock at the sudden turn of events.
Yelena herself quietly patted her chest, exhaling a sigh of relief as she looked at Vivian with eyes full of admiration.
Sitting in his chair, Greg watched the embarrassed forms of the three boys, then looked back at Vivian, who had plunged back into her work. For a moment, his mood was a bit complex.
Of course, he didn't feel a shred of sympathy for those three guys.
They brought it on themselves.
Still, while Vivian stepping in to resolve the situation this time was even more satisfying than before, it was indeed somewhat beyond his expectations.
Because he had thought that compared to him—whose engagement with her had long been broken off—she would be more likely to take the side of her own followers.
But to his surprise, she didn't indulge or tacitly allow others to humiliate and suppress him in public just because of that terrible past engagement or her personal distaste for him.
On the contrary, in her capacity as Student Council President, she maintained order in the room, put a stop to the behavior, and punished the provocateurs.
This brought a faint sense of relief to Greg's heart.
Because he wanted to save Vivian and prevent her from meeting a dark ending.
But if she wanted to become his enemy, then Greg's rescue operation would become completely meaningless.
Besides, he didn't want the person he was working hard to save to be someone who could turn into his enemy at any moment.
But looking at it now, at least Vivian wouldn't stand opposed to him without reason.
This caused his mood to lighten up considerably all at once.
"Still..."
Greg looked at Vivian's cold, focused profile, then rubbed his chin, a strange feeling welling up in his heart.
"Why does it feel like these face-slapping, badass scenes have constantly been stolen by the girls around me lately?"
"First it was Tiny Senior Yelena dissing that noble girl for me, and now it's my former fiancée Vivian dealing with these three fools on my behalf..."
Thinking up to this point, Greg suddenly felt caught between laughter and tears.
But on second thought, this feeling of being protected by pretty girls...
"Doesn't seem half bad?"
Rate on N.U.
