NOVPUB[Attention Level: None]
For the first time since leaving the classroom, Ashok felt the absence of prying eyes, of judgment, of unwanted attention.
With no lingering gaze upon him, he finally had a brief moment of peace, an interval where he could move without the weight of expectation pressing down.
His steps carried him toward the cafeteria counter, his focus solely on the menu before him, dismissing the free meal provided by the Academy without a second thought.
Mediocrity wasn't something he indulged in.
The menu was neatly divided, with ten paid dishes listed separately from the standard offering, each distinguished by its credit cost.
The first option sat at two credits, the prices gradually increasing—the final dish standing alone at ten.
His eyes settled instantly on the last choice:
Moss Elk Stew.
There was no hesitation—he selected it immediately, a quiet statement of preference, a reflection of his refusal to settle for less.
With the order placed, Ashok shifted, his mind shifting toward something far more critical.
The confrontation earlier had solidified one thing—his path forward had become more complicated, more demanding than before.
If he wanted to maintain control, if he wanted to secure his position, his rank, his influence—he needed to be prepared.
And so, while waiting for his meal, Ashok turned his focus inward.
It was time to check his status
STATUS
NAME: Ashok Kumar Maurya (Adlet)
JOB: Priest
FACTION ALIGNMENT: Evil
BLOODLINE: Not Awakened
AFFINITY: NONE(CURSED)
STIGMA: [???]
SOUL TRAIT: GRAVITY, INVENTORY.
TRAITS: Focalism, Drug Resistance, Sole Survivor, Cursed One, False Monarch.
SKILLS: NIL
ARTS: Helion Flow Technique, Mana Core Pulse Method
SPELLS: NIL
SPECIALS: Blessing of Charisma.
STATS:
STR: F
AGI: F+
END: F-
MIND: F+
CHA: ASCENDED (Currently Sealed) --- > SS+
MANA CORE: F-
DIVINE ENERGY: F+
As Ashok's gaze swept over his status, he noted that everything remained unchanged—except for two new additions to his Art Section.
His thoughts drifted, settling onto the he Divine Energy Stat.
Among all the stats listed, this one stood apart, for its power was not his own to command.
Its strength depended entirely on Morrathis.
And while Ashok still considered himself her husband rather than a mere priest, he knew one thing for certain he could not allow this Divine Energy to go to waste.
Divine Energy flowed within him, but for it to have purpose, he needed Divine Spells.
The issue?
He could hardly imagine Morrathis simply handing them to him after what he did to her.
If not Spells the second option was — Baptism.
A rite that would allow him to channel Divine Energy as freely as mana, granting him unrestrained access to its power.
But even Ashok, despite all he had learned, had no knowledge of the Baptism ritual for the Goddess of Corruption.
That, too, would demand something of him.
"Your order is ready."
The voice cut through his thoughts, snapping him back into the present.
His eyes flicked up, landing on the cafeteria staff, who stood holding a tray with his steaming bowl of Moss Elk Stew.
Ashok took a deep breath, pushing aside his contemplations.
"Id Card" asked the staff.
Ashok handed over his ID Card, barely sparing the staff a glance as he picked up his tray, the rich aroma of Moss Elk Stew rising into the air, thick with the scent of perfectly cooked meat and layered spices.
The fragrance alone heightened his appetite, stirring an instinctive hunger—yet before he could indulge, something felt off.
Lifting his gaze, Ashok noticed the staff had not moved, had not deducted his balance as expected.
Instead, the man stood staring at his ID Card, eyes wide, something akin to disbelief flickering in his expression.
Annoyance settled into Ashok's posture, his fingers tightening slightly against the tray.
"Should I wait for the food to get cold?"
His words carried a sharp edge, cutting through the lingering hesitation.
The staff flinched, immediately lowering his head.
"Sorry, Sir! I apologize for my behavior," the staff quickly stated, voice carrying a mix of respect and urgency.
"However, I must inform you—as the holder of the Silver Pass for the Maintenance Department, you are entitled to a permanent discount of fifty percent in the cafeteria. Would you like to order anything else?"
The information was nothing new to him.
"Just cut the balance." Said Ashok.
"Right away!"
With immediate efficiency, the staff deducted five credits, placing the ID Card neatly over the tray, completing the transaction.
The brief exchange between Ashok and the staff had not gone unnoticed.
Murmurs rippled through the cafeteria as a few students cast glances in his direction, hushed words exchanged, curiosity flickering in their eyes.
Yet Ashok paid them no mind.
Exhaustion weighed on him far more than their whispers ever could.
Taking his tray, he stepped away, heading toward a seat under the trees, choosing solitude over the ever-watchful eyes of the Academy.
Settling into place, Ashok reached into his Inventory, retrieving a bottle of Spirit Wine, the distinct aroma escaping as he uncorked it.
Then—the first bite.
The tender meat melted on his tongue, its rich, thick broth carrying the perfect balance of spices—both tangy and sharp, each note harmonizing with the depth of the stew.
And then—a sip of wine.
Cool, smooth, a perfect contrast to the meal, amplifying the experience tenfold.
A single thought overtook him—
'So good!'
Nothing else mattered in that moment.
Yet as Ashok continued his quiet indulgence, he failed to notice the subtle movement beyond the trees.
Students had followed him—watching from the shadows, lingering just beyond sight.
What they sought, whether mere curiosity or something more, remained unknown.
But their presence lingered.
Watching. Waiting.
With the final bite consumed, Ashok rose from his seat, leaving behind the empty tray, his mind already shifting toward what came next.
The Academy's tension still clung to him, but there was time before noon—enough to tend to personal matters.
A decision settled in his mind.
Shopping.
And with that thought—he set off.
Ashok moved toward the far south of the Academy, where the Student Market sprawled in organized chaos—a hub of trade, negotiation.
With each step, he felt lingering gazes trailing his back, a presence he had long grown accustomed to.
After everything that had unfolded today, it would have been more surprising if no one followed him.
Yet—he ignored them.
Their curiosity was expected, but it held no value to him now.
His purpose for entering the market was clear—to purchase essentials that could elevate his standard of living.
From training tools to items meant for rest and recovery, he sought not mere survival, but comfort and efficiency.
There was no point in saving credits, not when he had 3000 more than his peers.
So, he spent freely, moving from one shop to another, ensuring that everything he purchased was of the best quality—the highest price, the finest craftsmanshi
Each shop he stepped into bore the same reaction—wide-eyed shopkeepers, their gazes flickering between his presence and the Gold Pass of the Blacksmith Division displayed on his ID Card.
A newcomer wielding such a privilege?
It was uncommon. Unnerving.
Yet Ashok hardly paid them any mind.
He did not need to carry anything himself—the Storage Ring gifted by the Duke was more than sufficient to hold every single item, allowing him to move without burden.
And so—he continued his spree, unconcerned with the murmurs, focused only on acquiring exactly what he needed.
Throughout his entire shopping spree, students continued to follow Ashok, their astonishment growing with every purchase, their curiosity unwavering.
They watched as he moved effortlessly through the market, selecting only the best-quality goods, spending without hesitation, a rare sight for a newcomer.
And by the end of it—he had amassed quite a collection.
After an hour and a half, his spree finally came to an end, and Ashok turned his path toward the dormitory, his movements steady, his mind drifting into thought.
A glance at his new wristwatch showed 11:20, the time ticking forward as he processed the sheer amount he had acquired.
'Even in the game, I had to wait until the end of the First Year to get all these things—but now, thanks to the shorty, everything became easy.'
It was a fact he couldn't ignore.
Whatever hurdles the Academy would throw at him—this advantage made them easier to navigate.
The final bill for his spree had totaled 3000 Credits—a staggering sum by any standard.
Yet because of the Gold Pass from the Blacksmith Department, he had received an 80% discount, reducing his actual payment to only 600 Credits.
A stark contrast to what others would have paid—a luxury reserved for those who are considered Talented by the Academy.
And now, equipped with everything he needed, Ashok returned to the dorm, prepared to take his next steps.
Ashok's spree was anything but modest—his purchases extended beyond mere essentials, delving into luxuries designed to enhance both comfort and efficiency.
Aside from his new wristwatch, he acquired a Magically Enchanted Pillow and Bedsheet, promising optimal rest and recovery.
An Alarm Clock to ensure precise wake-ups, and a Mini Temperature Regulator, allowing him to control his personal atmosphere with ease.
The indulgence didn't stop there—he also picked up an Automatic Air Freshener, ensuring that his dorm remained pleasant at all times, along with a collection of daily life essentials, from scented soaps to herbal protein shakes.
His approach was simple—he purchased everything in bulk, securing six months' worth of consumables in a single transaction.
The storekeeper?
Overwhelmed. Nearly on the verge of tears.
In mere moments, his shelves had been emptied, every last product flying into Ashok's Storage Ring, a sight so surreal that he nearly dropped to his knees in sheer joy.
But despite the heavy discount Ashok received—the storekeeper suffered no loss.
These goods were not his personal stock—they were creations from teachers and students across various departments, making him only the distributor.
And beyond that—this sale would earn him an additional bonus from the Manager of the Market District, his reward for selling so much in a single day.
One could argue that, for the storekeeper, this was the single greatest day of his career.
