It was a new day.

  And for Lemuel Ark, that meant one thing—grinding.

  No shortcuts. No cheats. No System-Assisted Commands—SACs, as he called them with a hint of disdain.

  "If I can't control this body without training wheels, then I don't deserve the SSS badges pstered on my stat sheet," he muttered to himself, wiping sweat off his jaw.

  So he trained.

  Every. Single. Day.

  Sword swings at sunrise.Push-ups, squats, jogging, then back to sword swings until his shoulders screamed.His mornings bled into afternoons of forced mana control and spell memorization.Evenings? A bath.

  A very self-appreciative bath.

  "Damn...," he'd say, shamelessly admiring his reflection. "No one told me this body was sculpted by the gods. You’re welcome, mirror."

  He ate alone, kept his schedule brutal, and rarely spoke unless necessary—except, of course, to throw sarcastic comments at his ever-frustrated system companion, Vivi.

  Lemuel ArkCss: Master Swordsman

  Stats:? Charm – SSS? Dexterity – SS? Strength – SSS? Agility – SSS? Vitality – SS? Vigor – SSS? Intelligence – B (aiming for SSS, eventually... probably)

  Abilities:? Sword Mastery – A (Potential: EX)? Acrobatics – A (Potential: EX)? Magic Mastery – B (Potential: EX)? Rune Mastery – C (Potential: EX)

  The only stat gging behind?

  Rune Mastery.

  Because as it turns out, runes suck.

  The memorization was a headache, the patterns were finicky, and worst of all—his B-tier intelligence wasn’t cutting it.

  "Look, I’m hot, strong, and fast," Lemuel grumbled while struggling to trace a basic fire rune. "I can’t be everything. Even the heavens gotta bance the cheat sheet."

  Vivi wasn’t impressed.

  [Host... You've spent two whole months and still can't remember the rune for Cleanse.][A literal kindergartener could pull that off.]

  "I’m a prodigy in body, not brain," Lemuel shot back. "Now shush. I’m trying to channel fire through my pinky."

  Two months in, his muscles were sharper, his swordpy cleaner, his magic marginally more stable.But his mind? Still allergic to academia.

  Still—he had grit. And time. And an ego too massive to let any stat stay low for long.

  Elric exhaled in relief as he bowed before the man who wore Lemuel Ark’s face but moved like something far more terrifying.

  “My liege, it is time for your departure to the Academy,” he announced, barely masking the subtle tremble in his voice.

  This monster in human flesh would finally leave the estate.

  “The young miss—” Elric tried to broach the topic carefully, but Lemuel raised a hand to stop him mid-sentence.

  “She is no longer the young miss of the Arks,” Lemuel said coolly, his golden eyes locking onto Elric’s with such oppressive force that the butler's blood ran cold.

  Elric bowed deeper, suppressing any further words. He knew better than to push.

  [Vilin Points +10. Current total: 530. Would you like to open the Vilin Shop now?] the system chimed in cheerily, as if awarding a trophy for moral decay.

  Lemuel ignored it.

  “Realistically speaking, the stuff I want from that shop is absurdly overpriced. Unless I pn to genocide a continent, there’s no way I’ll afford the good stuff. And let’s be honest...” Lemuel adjusted the cuffs of his coat, “...I’m not Lemuel. I’m Bora. I just wear his skin. Viliny isn’t my identity—just my current occupation.”

  [Still... there could be a sale? Maybe a coupon? Evil Friday Deals?] Vivi, the system’s voice, piped in with a hopeful tone.

  “What, get a bootleg Sharingan and ruin this divinely sculpted body?” Lemuel rolled his eyes. “Disgusting. I’m a walking raid boss. If I need hacks to win, then the problem isn’t my power—it’s my imagination.”

  He finished dressing with practiced fir. A tailored coat, a cloak just arrogant enough to swing in the wind, and a sword polished enough to reflect his smirk.

  Near the exit stood Mari, the maid.

  Once just a commoner in the mansion’s service, now a quietly loyal agent with just enough intelligence and charm to earn Lemuel’s interest—and usefulness.

  “Mari. You passed the Academy’s entrance exams. Impressive,” Lemuel said, his voice softening just enough to make her blush. “Your family’s safe and housed comfortably—nothing luxurious, but peaceful.”

  Mari lowered her head, hands clenched in gratitude.

  “I will entrust my sister’s well-being to you. Shadow her. Protect her. Guide her. Use the funds I’ve provided to give her a smooth life in that school. I’m not asking for loyalty—I’m paying for reliability.”

  Mari straightened, her eyes bright.

  “I understand, sir. I’ll do exactly as you command. And I won’t tell anyone about your... good deeds.”

  Lemuel nodded, satisfied.

  “Smart girl.”

  As he walked out toward the awaiting carriage, Vivi’s voice echoed once more.

  [Host, that’s two hidden affection fgs and one sub-quest unlocked.]

  “Good. Add another,” Lemuel whispered. “This vilin’s not pying chess... he’s pying a whole different game.”

  The Academy’s grand auditorium was packed—rows upon rows of students chattering, murmuring, ughing nervously as the new year ceremony began. The student council president took the stage with a smile that barely masked the exhaustion of managing a school full of prodigies and ticking time bombs.

  “And now, let’s give a round of appuse for the top scorer of this semester... Lemuel Ark!”

  The room froze.

  No one cpped.

  Instead, an oppressive silence swept over the auditorium as the heavy cck of boots echoed from the hallway, like a sovereign marching down his throne room. Lemuel walked in slowly, each step a statement, his cloak trailing like a shadow behind him. The students could feel it—the difference. He wasn’t just another honor student. He was something else. Something dangerous.

  Eyes followed him with a mixture of awe and terror. Even the faculty shifted in their seats, unconsciously straightening their posture.

  He reached the podium.

  Calm. Composed. Radiating something primal.

  Lemuel leaned into the mic, and his voice hit like thunder.

  “You should not dream high,” he said, deep and resonant. “Because all of you are weak.”

  Gasps broke out across the room. Disbelief. Outrage.

  “And if you disagree—” he paused, scanning the audience with a cold smile, “—then fight me.”

  The silence shattered into chaos.

  Some students shouted. Others just stared in stunned horror. The teachers looked at each other, unsure whether to intervene or let this strange new king decre war on their school’s pride.

  [Vilin Points +2800! Massive gain! Host, you just broke six hidden morale meters and shattered three ego hierarchies!] Vivi’s voice rang out, barely able to contain her excitement.

  Lemuel didn’t flinch.

  He turned away from the podium, descending the stage with the same slow, deliberate grace.

  No one dared move.

  Not yet.

  And as the heavy doors closed behind him, a single thought echoed through the minds of every student present:

  The top scorer… is a monster.