From Nightmare's perspective, Greg's behavior had also been somewhat abnormal recently.
He no longer spent his free time running down to the underground river, attempting to fish out those slippery Blackwater Octopuses with crude tools like he used to.
Instead, he often squatted in the open space of the camp, scribbling and drawing on the ground with twigs or stones, outlining complex patterns and lines. Sometimes he would even talk to himself out loud, imitating two different voices as he fiercely debated with himself.
Nightmare had once overheard him muttering like this:
“Or... should I just take this opportunity to heroically rescue the damsel and farm a massive wave of Silvia's affection? Playing the guy who steals someone's girl seems pretty exciting too; who knows, maybe it'll even trigger a special event...”
“No, no, no! Stop right there! Get a grip on yourself, Greg! Your main and only core mission right now is to survive! Safely lay low until you beat the story line! Maybe by the time I make it through, this damned -10 Luck stat curse that activates as soon as I reach the surface will automatically lift once my destiny as a villain comes to an end!”
“When that time comes, the sky's the limit! I can find any bustling city I want and enjoy fine wine, delicious food, and beautiful women... Living the life of a pampered... ah no, a happy life enjoying myself! Isn't that so much better than following a single heroine route with one of the main girls?! So for now, I must lay low! Minimize any unplanned entanglements with those heroines to keep the plot from going off the rails!”
Now, however, it seemed that after a few days of battling between his left and right brain, Greg had finally sorted out his thoughts and reached a firm decision, no longer indecisive like before.
Facing Nightmare's question, Greg wiped his face with a cloth towel, his tone returning to its usual casualness:
“If you're asking about preparations... there's really no need to prepare anything special.”
After all, this was merely the wrap-up event for Chapter One.
According to the game's difficulty curve, that theoretical-type Associate Professor Audrey definitely wouldn't be all that strong.
Compared to the LV35 Floor Boss Lady Eight-Legs—who was known as a nightmare to novices and had left psychological scars on countless new players—this associate professor could practically be called soft and adorable.
Moreover, in the original game, the difficulty of this event was never about combat.
The hardest part was that players had to act like detectives, investigating and deducing within limited time and with limited clues, tracking Associate Professor Audrey step-by-step to ultimately find the secret location where she hid Silvia.
This process was packed with time constraints and branching paths; a single wrong step could lead to failure.
Yet for Greg, who possessed the game script, this most difficult deduction and tracking phase could be skipped entirely.
He knew Audrey's entire plan of action and the precise hidden location where she intended to imprison Silvia.
So, intercepting and stopping her in advance...
...would undoubtedly reduce the difficulty and risk of the event to a minimum.
“Oh? It appears thou art confident of success.”
Nightmare flicked her tail, pacing over to Greg's feet with catlike steps and looking up at him.
“Then, in this idle time before the operation begins... thou seemest quite free? In that case, why not attempt to romance me? For instance, by presenting me with some delicious jerky right now? If thou canst bring me pleasure, perhaps... my affection for thee might increase slightly, hum?”
“What good does romancing you do now? Am I supposed to pursue some shocking bestiality route?”
Greg snorted out of habit, though his body was honest.
He turned back into the tent and rummaged through his pack for a piece of jerky wrapped individually in parchment, still giving off an enticing, spicy aroma.
He casually tossed it over toward Nightmare.
“Meow!”
Nightmare let out a tender little cry completely unsuited to her status as a deity. Pushing off with her hind legs, her body leaped gracefully into the air, opening her mouth with precision to catch the jerky cleanly.
Upon landing, she chewed gracefully, the black tail behind her swaying contentedly.
“What a stubborn fellow thou art.”
Nightmare remarked in that ethereal voice while enjoying her tribute, her deep green eyes glancing at Greg:
“However, to be frank, this appearance of thine... is indeed to my taste. Thus, these slight flaws in thy personality are not entirely intolerable to me.”
“Heh, well thanks a—”
Greg's perfunctory response froze halfway out of his mouth.
He whipped his head around to stare at Nightmare, who was taking small bites of the jerky, a flash of bewilderment and disbelief crossing his amber eyes.
“Wait! What did you just say? You said... my appearance is to your taste?”
“Hmm? Is there a problem?”
Nightmare swallowed the meat in her mouth and raised her head, looking at Greg calmly with those deep green eyes, even sizing him up from head to toe with a critical gaze.
At this moment, standing beneath the dim light of the dungeon's shallow layers, Greg possessed an outstanding appearance that could command anyone's attention.
His shoulder-length blonde hair was no dull, monochrome yellow, but shone like molten gold, gleaming with a warm, lively radiance in the faint light, the ends swaying gently with his movements.
His eyes were a clear, deep amber, currently widened in surprise as though harboring a sea of stars.
Every line of his facial features seemed painstakingly carved by a master sculptor, forming a face so handsome it bordered on sharp, yet retained a touch of softness.
His figure was tall and straight, clad in form-fitting clothes built for ease of movement that revealed well-proportioned, powerful muscle lines, his overall proportions practically flawless.
Even situated in this dark, damp underground cave, dressed in simple dust-covered clothes, nothing could suppress his dazzling, eye-catching presence.
Nightmare gave a firm nod of her black cat head, her tone filled with the pure appreciation of admiring artwork:
“Indeed. This appearance of thine is truly the handsomest I have ever beheld across my vast span of existence. Not only I; I dare say even that hypocritical bitch who loves padding her chest would struggle to suppress a spark of affection deep within her heart upon laying eyes on thy current form for the first time. After all, beautiful things naturally attract gaze, even for deities.”
“Is... that so?”
Greg froze, his brow gradually furrowing in deep thought.
He had assumed the question mark behind his 10 Charisma stat meant that any character who laid eyes on him for the first time would only feel disgust, never affection.
Yet based on what Nightmare was saying now, that didn't seem to be the case at all.
Greg pondered it.
Could this mechanic only apply to main protagonist-type characters from the original game?
Then he recalled the minor character who claimed to be Lily Carlo, whom he had rescued from the underground river for the second time.
He was absolutely certain that after saving Lily, her very first reaction upon seeing him was disgust.
So that explanation didn't make sense either!
Unless...
Greg suddenly remembered a piece of lore from the original game.
Lilith had mentioned in dialogue that she possessed a disguise magic conduit that allowed her to alter her physical appearance. Whenever she grew bored, she occasionally used it to change her look and go do things her status as a princess wouldn't permit.
Although Greg had never seen Lilith's precise appearance after using the magic conduit in the game, nor had the original work drawn it explicitly...
...connecting this piece of information with how the Placement Exam plot had inexplicably altered earlier...
...a deduction that made Greg's scalp tingle—yet proved insanely logical—exploded in his mind!
That Lily Carlo... wasn't some ordinary daughter of a wealthy merchant at all!
She was Lilith Kahn herself!
She had used that disguise magic conduit!
“Holy crap!”
Greg subconsciously raised his hands and slammed them over his face.
“I screwed you over, gray-hair!”
Greg completely crashed.
Rate on N.U.
