Early the next morning, when Greg dragged his feet out of the dungeon and headed toward the Student Council, his handsome face was unabashedly clouded with the weariness of severe sleep deprivation.
This wasn't because he had encountered some terrifying night raid in the dungeon or been haunted by nightmares.
On the contrary, it was a result of his own choice.
He figured that even if he attended lectures, he wouldn't gain much given his academic talent. In that case, it was better to catch up on sleep during the day and grind the dungeon like a madman at night.
After a night of hard work, Greg's level had risen to LV29. He had also specifically hunted certain monsters to strengthen the 'acquisition-type skills' that might be useful for his future conquest of the second layer.
For instance, Tentacle Entanglement—a skill he initially thought was useless. Once he realized its practicality, he spent the night grinding its proficiency directly to LV3.
Now he could control five tentacles simultaneously, and the strength of each tentacle had been increased, further improving its versatility.
Just in case, he also grinded his Ice Magic Resistance from LV1 to LV3. Now, he had a thirty percent reduction in damage taken from ice-attribute magic.
While it might not seem like much, this damage reduction rate was actually quite absurd for the Human race.
In general knowledge, Humans were inherently weak when it came to magic resistance, especially specific elemental resistances.
Powerful magic resistance was usually a haughty privilege or racial talent born to special races like high-tier Demons, Dragons, and High Elves.
For an ordinary human to raise a specific attribute resistance above ten percent through training or special encounters was already no easy feat.
Reaching twenty percent was enough to be labeled a Resistance Variant.
Yet Greg, simply by leveling up a skill, had reached a thirty percent reduction in ice damage...
If the academy's Professor of Magic Defense found out, they would likely drag him into a laboratory immediately to study him from head to toe, wondering if he had mutated or carried the bloodline of some mysterious race.
Regardless, Greg was quite satisfied with the result.
A thirty percent reduction could mean the difference between life and death at a critical moment.
Of course, last night wasn't entirely about smooth upgrades.
The only thing Greg felt slightly regretful about was the Insubstantiality skill.
This ability, which could be called a divine survival skill, only had a chance to drop as a skill fragment by killing Shadow-eater Beasts. However, Shadow-eater Beasts were elite enemies, making them rare with slow respawn rates. Consequently, he still couldn't raise its proficiency to LV2.
"I'll just have to take it slow... You can't rush a survival skill like this. Anyway, with the Dark-Erosion Armament and my improved stats, my survivability is already much stronger."
Greg comforted himself with these thoughts.
And last night wasn't completely without other gains.
While clearing various monsters, he was lucky enough to obtain several Basic Magic Gems.
Although these basic gems couldn't be used in conjunction with the high-grade gem he had obtained, he could save them up to sell later, which would bring him a significant profit.
"Sigh, instead of staying properly in the dungeon, you're running off to the academy to neglect your proper duties, and you even insisted on bringing me along. Honestly, I don't recall raising you to be such a child."
Nightmare's helpless sigh suddenly echoed in Greg's mind.
Greg gritted his teeth. "You think I want to be here? And I don't recall ever being raised by you!"
If it weren't for the sake of being allowed to stay in the dungeon, Greg wouldn't want to step foot on the surface at all.
As for why he had to bring Nightmare along this time?
The reason was simple: security during his naps.
Greg didn't want to be taken out by some accident triggered by his damned -10 Luck stat while he was sound asleep from exhaustion.
Bringing Nightmare was equivalent to bringing a high-perception alarm.
While he caught up on his sleep, he would have this goddess help keep watch over the surroundings. If anything unusual or dangerous approached, she could wake him up immediately.
This was far more reliable than any magical alarm or physical trap.
Although he had to endure her sharp tongue and wicked sense of humor... for the sake of his life, he would bear it!
With those thoughts, Greg finally arrived in front of the quaint stone building that housed the Student Council.
He rubbed his throbbing temples and pushed open the heavy wooden door.
Clang.
The sound of the hinges turning echoed in the slightly noisy room as Greg stepped inside.
This time, the scene inside the Student Council office was completely different from the previous morning when Yelena had been waiting alone.
It wasn't too early anymore, and the Student Council's daily operations had already begun.
The President, Vivian, was still seated at the head desk at the far end of the room, with a stack of documents piled in front of her.
Her head was slightly lowered, her ice-blue eyes focused on reviewing a report in her hand. Her profile looked sharp and cold in the morning light streaming through the window.
The quill in her hand moved occasionally, making soft scratching sounds. She naturally exuded an aura of efficiency and seriousness.
In other areas of the room, several Student Council members were active.
Yelena, that petite and cute third-year senior, was currently caught in a sweet predicament.
She was surrounded by three or four girls who seemed to be teasing her, whispering things to one another and letting out occasional muffled, crisp laughter.
Yelena was trapped in the middle, her round, doll-like face flushed bright red like a ripe apple. Her large eyes were filled with embarrassment and helplessness. She shook her head vigorously, whispering some defense or denial, but her flustered appearance only made the surrounding girls laugh 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, looking like they were focused on their work.
However, a closer look revealed that their focus wasn't on the papers. Their gazes frequently drifted toward the group of girls, specifically toward Yelena in the center.
Those looks were a mix of adolescent curiosity and longing for the interactions of the opposite gender's social circle.
The moment Greg pushed open the door and stepped into the space, the air seemed to freeze for an instant.
One gaze after another, carrying various emotions, snapped toward the blonde youth at the door.
Although they had known since yesterday that Greg had temporarily joined the Student Council as a Disciplinary Committee member, knowing it was one thing; seeing him personally and brazenly step into this office—the symbol of the academy's student elite and the core of order—was another.
The impact on their vision and perception still sent significant shockwaves through the hearts of many present.
The giggling from the girls' side came to an abrupt halt.
They first widened their eyes in surprise, their gazes lingering on Greg's face for a few seconds, seemingly dazed by the sheer lethality of his looks.
But soon, they exchanged several glances, their lips curling back into smiles filled with gossip.
One of the girls leaned toward the blushing Yelena's ear and whispered something quickly.
Upon hearing it, Yelena flinched as if her tail had been stepped on. Her face turned even redder as she shook her head like a rattle, hurriedly whispering things like "It's not like that" and "Don't talk nonsense."
Her desperate denials and uncontrollable bashfulness only confirmed the suspicions in the girls' minds, causing them to cover their mouths and snicker. Their looks toward Yelena and Greg were filled with the anticipation of someone watching a drama unfold.
On the other side, the boys who had been sneakily watching the girls were immediately drawn to Greg the moment he entered.
Initially, surprise flashed in their eyes, but it was quickly replaced by another emotion—obvious dissatisfaction and faint hostility.
This hostility didn't stem from any deep grudge; it was more of an instinctive sense of rivalry and exclusion.
Greg's face, to them, was a provocation in itself.
However, after exchanging a few glances and whispering briefly, the dissatisfaction and hostility on their faces were gradually covered by a different feeling.
It was a mixture of contempt, even a strange sense of superiority tinged with pity.
Greg keenly caught the change in the boys' expressions, feeling a sense of absurdity and amusement in his heart.
To be honest, he had no idea where their sense of superiority came from.
After all, in the original game, they were minor characters who didn't even have character sprites, while the great Greg Sass not only had a dedicated sprite but even had 1,386 personal CGs!
What did they have to compare with him?
Greg roasted them mercilessly in his mind, then shook his head, deciding not to stoop to their level.
In any case, he didn't actually plan to integrate into this Student Council. Once he secured the qualification to represent the academy in the Five Academy Tournament, he would immediately apply to leave. By then, that chaos-loving Headmistress would have no reason to force him to stay.
With that in mind, Greg's gaze swept across the room, finally landing on an inconspicuous spot in the corner.
He walked straight over, pulled out a chair, and plopped down.
Then, he unceremoniously closed his eyes and leaned back against the chair, striking a pose that clearly said, 'I'm taking a nap, do not disturb.'
After all, the high-intensity dungeon battle last night had brought great rewards, but it had also consumed a vast amount of his physical and mental energy.
Thus, seizing the time to rest was a necessity for him.
However, the tree seeks peace, but the wind will not subside.
Greg wanted to take a low-profile nap, but the boys who had just established their mysterious sense of superiority clearly had no intention of letting go of this chance to discipline a newcomer—especially one that would allow them to show off their status and authority in front of the girls.
Rate on N.U.
