NOVPUBAs Ashok descended the stairs leading to his dorm, the weight of exhaustion pressed heavily upon him, his muscles screaming in protest with every step.
Pain pulsed through his body, each movement demanding far more effort than it should—and yet, to anyone watching, he appeared completely composed.
Despite being drenched in sweat, there was no trace of odor, his overwhelming Charisma weaving an illusion of effortless grace.
His breathing, though slightly labored, resembled that of someone returning from a casual jog, rather than someone battling the limits of his body.
Even his steps—though his legs felt as heavy as lead—remained smooth, unwavering, lacking even the slightest hint of fatigue-induced imbalance.
And as he finally entered his room, a thought flickered in his mind—
'Did Morrathis look into future before giving me this blessing?'
Ashok understood Charisma's role within the game, acknowledged its influence over social interactions, negotiations, and presence.
Yet, back then, he had never placed true value on it—because when facing death, a polished appearance meant nothing against an inevitable end.
But now, standing in his dorm, his body aching, yet his image untarnished, he saw Charisma as more than just surface-level deception.
It was an armor, a shield that allowed him to mask his weakness, to control how he was perceived, even when his strength was not absolute.
And in a world dictated by power, perception was a weapon all its own.
Ashok exhaled slowly, his steps steady despite the lingering exhaustion that pulsed through his body.
At the very least, he was grateful—because even if someone saw him like this, drenched in sweat yet composed, they would never assume he was weak or an easy target.
This was the Aether First Year Dorm, and he had already declared his war for Rank 1 in the class.
There was no room for weakness right now—not in appearance, not in reality.
Despite his weariness, Ashok made the deliberate choice to avoid using his Sole Survivor Trait to artificially boost his Endurance Stat.
Because while it raised stats, it didn't cultivate true growth.
Raising a stat through Sole Survivor was temporary, a mere illusion of strength—because the moment it was deactivated, everything reverted to its original state.
And that was precisely why Sole Survivor was an enemy to natural development.
Ashok wasn't looking for quick fixes—he needed to build a body capable of enduring real challenges, to forge traits that would last, rather than relying on fleeting enhancements.
Stepping into his room, Ashok wasted no time, retrieving a container of Body Enhancer, a powdered supplement designed for muscle recovery and development.
With practiced ease, he mixed the fine powder with water, watching as it dissolved into a faintly shimmering liquid, its properties far beyond the standard protein powders of his past life.
Despite its appearance, this was no ordinary supplement—it was an experimental creation, a fusion of rare natural herbs, crafted by a Third Year Student whose ingenuity had broken records.
Its effectiveness in the long run far surpassed traditional Stamina Recovery Potions, offering true physical enhancement rather than temporary rejuvenation.
Yet—almost no one knew about it.
Despite undergoing rigorous testing with zero reported harm, the Body Enhancer remained classified as experimental, held back by one crucial limitation—lack of users.
The academy's reliance on instant-recovery potions meant that no one had truly integrated this product into their daily routine, leaving its potential untapped and largely unknown.
But Ashok wasn't like the others.
He had seen this exact scenario unfold in the game, had watched as within two years, the Body Enhancer became one of the most demanded products in the entire world.
The reason for its eventual rise to prominence lay in a simple, overlooked flaw—potions, despite their effectiveness, carried an invisible cost.
Their ability to grant instant recovery seemed ideal, but over time, the body developed a resistance, gradually dulling their effects until even high-tier potions lost their potency.
But the Body Enhancer worked differently—its formulation focused on natural muscle development, offering long-term benefits without adverse side effects.
The Body Enhancer avoided the common flaw of potions—it did not rely on mana processing, making its formulation purely herbal, free from magical interference.
That distinction alone ensured consistent effectiveness, immune to the resistance that plagued mana-infused potions over time.
But Ashok's decision to wipe out the entire stock wasn't just about securing a superior recovery method—it was about making his presence known.
He was certain that with such a massive purchase, his name would inevitably reach the ears of the Third Year Student who had created it.
And that was precisely what he wanted.
The Third Year Student was far more than just an inventor—a significant side character, one whose abilities were so valuable that Ashok could not allow her to fall into the hands of the Hero or any other character.
Because this particular student held something extraordinary, something bordering on a cheat ability.
'The only character in the entire game possessing the Creation Trait—a talent that granted her natural mastery over every creation-based art.'
From Blacksmithing to Alchemy, Scroll crafting, enchantments, and more—she excelled in them all, effortlessly.
And beyond that—her trait held an additional effect, one that made her even more dangerous in the right hands.
It gave a small chance to reach enlightenment whenever she practiced a creation-based craft, meaning that her skills could advance at an absurd rate with mere exposure.
Ashok knew the value of this character, knew that if he did not act swiftly, someone else might snatch him away, monopolizing the talent.
And that was not an outcome Ashok was willing to accept.
This was a game of control, of influence, of securing the strongest assets before anyone else.
And today's purchase?
Was just the first step.
'I will call dibs on that character no matter what.'
Ashok reaffirmed his decision, his determination unwavering as he filled another bottle of Body Enhancer, carefully storing it in his Storage Ring before stepping out of his dorm.
With his immediate priorities handled, he turned his path toward the Training Area, a space teeming with discipline, competition, and raw physical intensity.
As Ashok neared his destination, the rhythmic clashing of metal rang through the air, accompanied by sharp battle cries—"KIAI! HAY! HAP!"
The sounds resonated across the open grounds, a chorus of focused effort and sheer determination.
Upon entering, the sight before him was exactly as expected—students immersed in their training, each lost in their own world of progress.
Some swung their weapons through empty air, refining their technique, while others took to practice dummies, honing their strikes with calculated precision.
Further along, students dedicated themselves to weapon arts, mastering intricate movements, while in the distant corners of the facility, others pushed their limits in strength training, lifting weights with unwavering focus.
No distractions. No idle chatter.
Only pure concentration—each student committed to the relentless pursuit of strength.
As Ashok's gaze swept across the field, his eyes landed on Leon.
Sweat poured down his body, his Great Sword moving in fluid arcs, each motion precise, intentional, his eyes closed in absolute focus only focused on the sword in his hand.
And yet, despite his unwavering concentration, he was far from unnoticed.
Ashok caught sight of multiple female students, their training momentarily forgotten, their gazes locked onto the Hero with thirsty eyes and flushed expressions.
Admiration. Desire. Obsession.
'Just jump on him at this point. I'm sure he'll accept everyone with open arms.'
Ashok clicked his tongue, his patience wearing thin at the sight of the swooning crowd, their training all but forgotten in Leon's presence.
Rather than wasting another moment watching their shameless admiration, he turned on his heel, heading past the Common Training Area toward his real destination—
The Private Training and Duel Arena.
Before him stood a grand Circular Dome, an architectural statement marking a space reserved for dedicated combat practice and elite sparring.
The structure was designed with two distinct sections:
The Outer Ring—Divided into multiple floors and separate rooms, each tailored to different types of private training rooms, for various natures and degrees of training.
The Hollow Center—A vast, open area designated solely for duels.
Approaching the reception desk, Ashok found the receptionist remarkably efficient, wasting no time with needless conversation.
Instead, with a simple gesture, she directed him to the chart placed neatly on the desk, its contents detailing the different types of private training rooms available for rent.
Each room came with a fixed hourly rate of ten credits, ensuring equal accessibility for all students—if they were willing to pay the price for isolation and specialized training.
This was why credits were everything, and students preserved them with almost obsessive caution, avoiding unnecessary spending on food or daily luxuries.
Because with the same amount of credits, one could either train for an hour in the empire's finest facilities or indulge in the costliest meal at the cafeteria.
For any normal student, the choice was obvious.
Strength took priority—survival demanded investment in training, not indulgence in comfort though Ashok was not like everyone.
Ashok approached the receptionist, his voice firm.
"Non-Elemental Spell Training Room. Three hours."
With practiced efficiency, he handed over his ID Card, watching as the receptionist took it.
For a brief second, her eyes widened, surprise flickering in her gaze before she quickly recovered, maintaining professionalism as she deducted the balance and handed his card back.
Unlike his previous transactions, this time, no discounts applied—because the Training Area fell directly under the Medical Department's jurisdiction, untouched by the benefits of his Gold Pass.
"Ground Floor. Room 17."
And just like that, the conversation ended, the receptionist returning to her work without hesitation.
Ashok moved along the edge of the Dome, his steps steady as his eyes scanned the room numbers, ensuring he was heading in the right direction.
Just as he passed Room 10, the gate swung open—
And out stepped Gideon.
