A visible chill passed through the hall. Top students who already knew about the bracelet's tracking ability simply smirked. The rest looked pale and panicked, realizing too late that the academy had been watching everything from the moment they stepped through the gate.
Professor Grimwald turned and left the platform without another word, his robes swirling behind him.
Students began standing up slowly — some with hope shining in their eyes, some buzzing with excitement, others visibly afraid of what the next three years would demand.
Lucas and Alex rose at the same time, their eyes meeting across the aisle for a brief, charged second.
Lucas walked out of the lecture hall with Vivienne at his side. The endless spatial chamber's golden haze still lingered in his vision, but the real world outside felt sharper, heavier. Vivienne excused herself with a small, apologetic smile.
"I need to visit my brother for a moment. He will kill me if I don't. I'll catch up with you later."
Lucas nodded, offering her a brief, polite smile. "Take your time."
She gave him one last lingering look before hurrying off down a side corridor, her red dress swaying with each step.
Alone now, Lucas tapped the silver runic bracelet on his wrist. A holographic interface bloomed in the air in front of him — clean, glowing blue, with tabs for Map, Merits, Quests, Inventory, and Status. At the very top, a single line pulsed in red:
Merits: 100,000
Lucas stared at the number for a long second. This system is really tough for bottom feeders, he thought. Even with his Mythic class, the academy had started him at the same baseline as everyone else. No special treatment. No handouts. Just cold numbers and the promise of blood, sweat, and survival.
He walked without any particular direction, letting the university reveal itself.
The campus was breathtaking. Wide training grounds stretched under open skies, their floors etched with absorption runes that drank stray mana. A massive leisure park unfolded to his left — manicured lawns dotted with mana-blooming flowers that glowed softly in daylight, silver-leafed trees providing shade for students lounging on floating benches.
Seniors and new joins walked in small groups, some laughing, some already trading tips on merit farming.
Lucas felt like he was strolling through an elite dream — a world built for power, where every blade of grass and every floating lamp existed to sharpen the next generation of gods.
He stopped in front of a long, single-floor building labeled Potions Pavilion. The glass walls were transparent, revealing rows of shimmering vials and bubbling cauldrons inside. Three second-year female students worked behind the counter, their university uniforms fitted and professional.
As Lucas stepped inside, one of the seniors — a tall girl with sharp cheekbones and sleek black hair tied in a high ponytail — looked up. Her face brightened instantly.
Here comes my golden goose, she thought, eyes gleaming with opportunity.
"Hello, junior! Welcome to the Potions Pavilion," she greeted warmly, leaning forward just enough to show the curve of her chest beneath the uniform blouse.
Lucas nodded politely and began browsing the price list projected on a floating crystal panel.
Basic Healing Potion: 500 merits
Mana Restoration Vial: 800 merits
Strength Elixir (low-grade): 1,500 merits
Advanced Recovery Potion: 3,000 merits
Rare Mana Surge (temporary rank boost): 7,500 merits
Epic-grade Wound Closure: 15,000 merits
Lucas studied the numbers carefully, committing the costs to memory. The system was merciless. Even basic survival items ate into the monthly 10,000 merit deposit. He understood now why so many students worked part-time jobs on campus.
After a few minutes, he gave the senior a small nod. "Thank you."
He turned and walked out without buying anything. The senior's shoulders slumped in visible dejection. Her two friends at the back counter immediately burst into laughter.
"You really thought a newbie who just arrived would waste that many merits on day one?"
The senior whirled on them, fury flashing across her face. "You brainless idiots — that was Lucas Vanderbilt!"
"WHATTTT?!"
Lucas continued walking, unaware of the commotion he had left behind. He passed an artifacts shop and a talisman stall, then stopped in front of a larger, bustling building named Merit Exchange Pavilion.
The structure was three stories tall, its wide entrance open to the campus path. Holographic boards floated everywhere, listing quests, part-time jobs, and merit-earning tasks:
"Clear low-rank training dungeon — 2,500 merits"
"Assist in mana-crystal sorting — 800 merits per shift"
"Deliver confidential documents to senior professors — 1,200 merits"
So that's why so many students are working here, Lucas thought as he stepped inside. The pavilion was alive with activity — seniors haggling over quest rewards, first-years nervously scanning the boards, staff members directing traffic.
A commotion erupted in the far corner.
A girl with shoulder-length black hair and square glasses was cornered by three second-year male students. She wore a conservative academy uniform that covered her completely, yet her body refused to be hidden — full, heavy breasts straining against the blouse, a narrow waist flaring into wide, soft hips, and thick thighs that pressed together nervously. Even fully clothed, she radiated an unintentional, sinful allure.
The leader — a sharp-haired boy named William — kept poking a finger at her chest, pushing her back against the wall.
"You bitch really dare to reject our invitation?"
His friends laughed cruelly.
"William, maybe she was thinking of saving her virginity, man."
"Haha, maybe she didn't like William's face."
William gritted his teeth, turning to his friends. "Shut the fuck up, bastards."
He faced the girl again, voice low and threatening. "Let's take her out before that fake righteous bastard catches the scene."
The other two grabbed her arms, starting to drag her toward a side exit. The girl wailed, voice cracking with fear.
"Help—! Someone—!"
Many seniors turned their heads but quickly looked away. First-year students frantically tapped their bracelets, trying to call for help.
Lucas glanced at the scene from across the pavilion. A dark, predatory smile slowly spread across his face.
Well… I didn't think a chance like this would find me this early.
Yuna kept her head down as the two second-year boys dragged her through the narrow service corridor behind the Merit Exchange Pavilion. Her shoulder-length black hair fell like a curtain over her square glasses, hiding the tears already welling in her eyes.
She used to be popular back in school — boys flocked to her, called her kind, sweet, and approachable. For a long time, she believed it was because of her gentle nature. Then she grew older and the truth settled in like cold rain.
It was never her personality.
It was her body.
Her mother used to tease her playfully, "My daughter is such a beauty — men will fight wars for you one day." Yuna had learned the hard way that beauty without power or money was not a gift. It was prey.
A poor girl with a body like hers became something to be taken, not cherished. She started avoiding everyone. She buried herself in studies, wore baggy uniforms, and even used fake glasses to dull her appearance. But as she grew, her body betrayed her — heavy breasts that strained against every blouse, a narrow waist that flared into wide, soft hips, thick thighs that rubbed together when she walked, and an ass that drew stares no matter how loose her clothes were.
Male teachers began finding excuses to touch her back, brush her shoulder, laugh too close to her ear. Even her own father's casual hugs started to make her skin crawl with paranoia.
She had thought about ending it more than once.
Then a miracle appeared in her life, and she awakened — a Rare-grade class. For one fragile moment, she believed things might change. Maybe people would finally see her for something other than a body. Maybe she could carve out a life where she was respected, not hunted.
But fate, as always, had other plans.
She had come to the Merit Exchange Pavilion hoping to earn enough merits through part-time jobs to stay in the Proven class. She had dressed conservatively, kept her head down, and avoided eye contact.
It hadn't mattered.
The three boys from the Brotherhood faction — a loose group of second-years who existed to indulge every dark impulse the university quietly allowed — had found her anyway.
The academy turned a blind eye to almost everything except outright killing outside of sanctioned combat. Rapes, bullying, extortion — all of it was permitted under the excuse of "training future warriors." The real world wouldn't be kind, so why should the university be?
They dragged her into a hidden alcove between two storage buildings, the area shielded by illusion wards and stacked crates. Yuna's heart hammered against her ribs as they shoved her forward. She stumbled and fell to her knees on the cold concrete, skirt riding up her thick thighs.
"Sir… please… leave me alone," she begged, voice trembling. "I'll give you my merits… everything I have… just leave me alone…"
William, the sharp-haired leader, lit a cigarette with a lazy flick of his lighter. He exhaled slowly, smoke curling around his smirk.
"You'll give me everything?" he asked, voice dripping with mock sweetness.
Yuna nodded desperately, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Yes, sir… everything I have…"
One of the other bullies leaned in close, breath hot against her ear. "How about your pussy?"
William kicked the boy's back without looking. "Watch your language, bastard."
They all laughed. Yuna's face went deathly pale. Her body trembled violently, heavy breasts heaving with each panicked breath. She bit her lip until it bled, trying to hold back a sob.
William took another drag, then flicked the cigarette aside. "Well… let's taste our new piece. We're lucky we found a hot bitch before anyone else."
He reached for his belt, starting to unbuckle his trousers.
Yuna closed her eyes, understanding there would be no rescue. No one was coming. The university had made that clear from day one.
Tap. Tap
Footsteps echoed from the corridor behind them.
The bullies tensed, expecting a student council patrol. Instead, a tall figure in a casual black jacket and jeans walked into the alcove, hands tucked casually in his pockets.
William's friend barked, "What the fuck do you want, motherfucker?"
Lucas Vanderbilt stopped a few feet away, his blue eyes calm, almost bored. A small, casual smile played on his lips.
The group relaxed slightly when they realized it was just another first-year.
"Can I have a cigarette?" Lucas asked lightly.
William stared at him for a second, then let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "You've got some fucking nerve, newbie."
He tossed the pack toward Lucas without thinking.
Lucas caught it one-handed, still smiling.
Behind him, Yuna remained on her knees, trembling, tears silently falling as she realized even this stranger wasn't here to save her.
The real game had only just stepped into the shadows.