Everyone has a bit of vanity hidden deep inside, and Greg was no exception.
Although his initial plan was to maintain a proper distance from these main characters and avoid getting overly dragged into the vortex of the plot, sitting in a window booth at the Golden Crucible restaurant right now, feeling the unabashed envy, jealousy, and even disbelief in the eyes of the male patrons around him...
An indescribable sense of satisfaction quietly welled up in his heart.
After all, to an uninformed outsider, he was currently surrounded by three peerlessly beautiful girls of completely different styles, effectively enjoying a harem of beauties.
This sight was enough to make any young man's imagination run wild and grit his teeth in envy.
"Sir, your menu."
A well-trained server appeared right on time, handing an exquisitely decorated leather menu to Greg with both hands.
"Alright, thank—"
Greg habitually reached out to take the menu, but before he could finish his thanks—
"Ngh!"
An indescribable, tingling sensation, like a weak electric current, suddenly surged from the outside of his thigh!
The feeling was gentle yet precise, carrying the delicate friction unique to silk fabric as it softly brushed against his skin through his trousers, straight to his nerve endings.
The sensation was so extraordinarily pleasant and unexpected that he nearly failed to control his throat muscles and let out an ill-timed groan.
His body froze imperceptibly. He lowered his head almost instantly, glancing beneath the table—
Directly opposite him, Silvia, who was sitting next to Victoria, had secretly slipped off her right leather shoe under the cover of the tablecloth at some unknown point.
At that moment, that delicate foot, encased in a sheer black stocking, was gently arched, using the soft inner sole to rub against the fabric of Greg's trousers.
The slickness of the stocking combined with the warmth of her skin yielded a strange, thrilling sensation that pierced straight to his core.
Meanwhile, above the table, Silvia rested her elbows on the smooth tabletop, tilting her head slightly. Her long pink hair cascaded over her shoulder, and her face bore a sweet smile so overwhelmingly innocent and pure that it stood in utter contrast to her actions below. Her pink eyes gazed clearly at Greg as she asked in a soft, gentle voice full of concern:
"Senior Greg, is something wrong? Your expression looks a bit... strange? Are you feeling unwell?"
Her expression and tone were so convincing that anyone looking at her would think she was merely a gentle underclassman worried about her senior.
Only that mischievous foot under the table betrayed the possessiveness surging in her heart—a yearning ignited back in the catacombs when she heard other girls gossiping about Greg.
She hadn't found a good opportunity the entire way here. Now, beneath the dining table right in front of her best friend, the thrill of this taboo secret made her heart pound wildly, filling her with even greater excitement.
“Why does it feel like Nightmare was right after all? Silvia really seems to have turned into a slut... This is way too erotically charged!”
Greg felt a surge of heat rush straight to his head, his cheeks warming up slightly.
Suppressing the increasingly irresistible numbness spreading up his thigh, he fought to maintain a calm expression. He even forced a stiff smile and pushed forward the menu he had nearly crumpled in his grip:
"Ah, no... I'm fine. I might just be a little tired. You... you girls order first. See what you'd like to eat, don't hold back."
His voice sounded slightly deeper than usual, laced with a barely perceptible tension.
Victoria suspected nothing. She immediately reached out and took the menu, her gray eyes glittering bright with the excitement of freeloading off a rich guy:
"Really? Then let's make a deal! Since you were the one who offered to pay, I will definitely not be polite! I'm going to eat back everything I lost in the catacombs!"
Meanwhile, beneath the table, sensing Greg's stiff body and his lack of explicit rejection, the flame of guilt mixed with excitement burned even hotter inside Silvia's heart.
Thinking that she was doing this to the person her best friend Victoria liked right in front of her, the taboo thrill made her tremble with delight.
Her foot unconsciously applied a bit more pressure. The rubbing of her toes grew slower and more deliberate, probing deeper toward a more sensitive region.
"Hss—"
Greg inhaled sharply. His hands resting on his lap instantly clenched, veins bulging slightly on the back of his hands.
He almost bounced right out of his seat.
The sensation was far too intense!
"You... order whatever you like, anything is fine..."
Greg squeezed out the words from between his teeth while subtly shifting his posture, trying to steer the underground assault away from his vital spot and make his awkward predicament less obvious.
Having secured Greg's financial blessing, Victoria grew even happier. She began perusing the menu in earnest, muttering things like "This looks pretty good," and "This looks super expensive, I have to try it."
From time to time, she even discussed the dishes with Silvia beside her.
Meanwhile, Catherine, sitting beside Greg and quietly sipping her lemon water, knit her delicate brows slightly.
Her azure eyes sharply caught the strange, tightly suppressed look on Greg's face.
She set down her water glass, pondering internally:
What's wrong with him? His face keeps flushing and turning pale, and his breathing seems uneven... Did he suffer some hidden injury during the battle in the catacombs that's acting up now? Or is it a lingering effect of mana exhaustion?
This thought caused her mind to wander for a moment.
Just then, Victoria picked out a few dishes and casually passed the menu to her: "Senior Catherine, take a look and see what you'd like as well?"
Catherine was still preoccupied with Greg's potential injuries. Distracted, her fingers slipped as she reached out to take it—
Clack.
The exquisitely decorated leather menu dropped to the floor with a muted thud.
"Ah, I'm sorry, Senior Catherine!" Victoria quickly apologized.
"It's fine. My hands slipped."
Catherine spoke calmly and bent down, preparing to pick up the menu that had fallen near her feet.
Her movements were graceful and natural as her gaze cast downward.
And then—
Halfway through bending down, her body froze imperceptibly.
Beneath the tablecloth, the light was dim, but it was clear enough for her to see:
Opposite her, resting against Greg's trouser leg, was a beautifully curved foot clad in a black stocking.
And the owner of that foot...
Catherine's eyes slowly traced the foot upward, peering over the edge of the tablecloth to the other side.
Silvia was blushing slightly as she discussed desserts with Victoria, a shy and sweet smile on her face, appearing completely oblivious to what was happening under the table.
Meanwhile, Greg sat stiffly, struggling to maintain a calm expression, though tiny beads of sweat glistened on his forehead.
"..."
In an instant, Catherine felt as though her brain had been doused in ice water, yet also tossed into boiling oil.
Countless pieces of information exploded inside her fast-calculating business mind.
Although she had previously noticed Silvia's interest in Greg, what she never expected was this:
“They... have already progressed to this point? In a place like this? Right in front of Victoria and me?”
“Are they... treating us as part of their... play?!”
Even for someone like Catherine, who was well-versed in intrigue, dark schemes, and all facets of human nature in the business world, she felt an unprecedented shock and a sense of... absurdity.
She had seen people put on a show for profit and feign intimacy for deception, but secret flirtation beneath the dining table in a public venue—and with Greg Sass, a man she found increasingly difficult to read—
This completely exceeded the boundaries of her past knowledge and experience.
She held her bent posture, pausing for only about half a second.
Immediately, with astonishing composure, she pulled back all external emotion. Her face reverted to its impeccably calm demeanor as if she had seen nothing at all. She naturally picked up the menu and sat up straight again.
However, as she settled back into her seat, her body seemed imperceptibly stiffer than before, and her fingers gripping the water glass involuntarily tightened.
"..."
She picked up the water glass and took another sip to mask her momentary lapse.
Her mind was churning, yet her formidable rationality drove her to analyze the situation immediately:
Was this a momentary slip of control, or a deliberate display or test? Did Silvia know about the contract between Greg and herself? Was Greg acquiescing or being coerced? How would this affect her observations and plans?
Countless questions swirled in her mind. On the surface, however, she had already returned to her composed, self-possessed demeanor as a senior sister. She casually flipped through the menu and read off a few dish names to the server in a steady voice, as though that heart-pounding scene beneath the table had never entered her vision.
"..."
Across the table, in the brief moment Catherine bent down and sat back up, both Silvia and Greg felt their hearts leap into their throats.
Silvia's foot froze instantly, not daring to move another inch.
Greg held his breath, the thought I'm done for flashing through his mind.
However, when they saw Catherine calmly sit back up with her usual expression and order her food, both of them secretly breathed a sigh of relief in unison.
“Thank goodness... It seems she didn't see. Otherwise things would've gotten messy.”
Just now, both of them had gotten swept up in the heat of the moment. Silvia in particular, driven by the thrill of transgression, had acted so boldly that she failed to stop in time when Catherine bent down.
Now that they had cooled down, a wave of lingering fear washed over them.
Having survived this heart-stopping scare, Silvia finally slipped her foot back into her shoe. With a persistent blush on her cheeks, she hung her head, pretending to study her utensils intently, not daring to look at Greg or Catherine again.
Greg took the opportunity to adjust his posture, quickly and discreetly smoothing his rumpled trousers, trying to settle his racing pulse and physical reaction.
At the same time, a certain conviction grew even stronger in his mind:
It seems that during the Five Academy Tournament in Act Three, no matter what, I have to find a way to get the Church of Light's current Saintess to help me break this damn Chastity Mark!
Otherwise, if this keeps up, just dealing with Silvia's sneak attacks will give me internal injuries from holding back!
He took the menu that Silvia silently passed back, checked off a few dishes that caught his eye, and raised his hand to signal a server over.
Footsteps quickly echoed behind him.
"We've decided. Bring us one of everything checked off."
Greg didn't turn around, simply handing the menu to the person behind him.
The woman behind him took the menu, glanced quickly over the checked items, and the smile on her face broadened slightly.
She raised her head, looking down at Greg, her voice sweet as ever:
"Young Master Greg, are you sure... you want to order this much? The dishes at the Golden Crucible are... quite expensive, you know~"
Her tone curved upward at the end, carrying a touch of teasing.
"Hm?"
Greg frowned. The slight vanity he felt from being surrounded by beauties and the lingering thrill from earlier were instantly dispersed by this seemingly condescending reminder.
Are those brain-dead web novel tropes actually real? Do I really have to play out a 'Return of the Dragon King' scene just to place an order?
"Since you're using that tone, I won't hide it anymore. The truth is, I'm—"
He was just about to give this clueless server a piece of his mind and teach her what it meant by "Thirty years of slacking off, thirty years of lying flat—never look down on a poor youth!"
...when he suddenly noticed something he had overlooked earlier.
Why did she know his name?
And why did her voice sound so familiar?
A faint bad premonition began to rise in his heart.
When he tremulously turned all the way around and clearly saw the face of this female 'server', all his grand words and emotions instantly froze in his throat.
It was an extraordinarily familiar and beautiful face.
Her dark golden hair was meticulously tied into a neat bun at the back of her head, revealing a smooth forehead and delicate features.
Her pale blue eyes were as calm as still water, quietly gazing down at him, with a subtle, completely warmthless arc curling at the corner of her lips.
A bone-chilling coldness wrapped around Greg's heart like a venomous snake, making every hair on his body stand on end.
"..."
The expression on Greg's face went from slight annoyance to shock, and then to terror, undergoing a complex transformation in just a single second.
He opened his mouth, his throat bone-dry. His voice trembled with a shake he didn't even notice as he squeezed out a smile uglier than crying:
"W-What a coincidence, Allie... I didn't expect to run into you here... It seems... it seems you're doing... pretty well for yourself now? Ha... haha..."
Allie tilted her head slightly, her pale blue eyes fixed unblinkingly on Greg. The smile on her face remained unchanged, yet deep within her eyes, something icy seemed to be coalescing.
Her voice remained steady, even soft, but the words she uttered made Greg feel as if he had plunged into an abyss of ice:
"Young Master Greg, I'm going to kill you~"
Immediately after, the cold, white gleam of a blade unsheathing beneath her skirt reflected onto Greg's face.
Greg silently swallowed hard, completely... drenched in cold sweat.
Rate on N.U.
