Lucas resisted the overwhelming urge to smack Zach Darnell in the back of the head.
He was completely speechless.
What in the world is this guy thinking about all day long?
"Do you have any ambition as a man?" Lucas grumbled internally. "The freshman competition is right around the corner, and you're daydreaming about girls?"
Legendary Level equipment. That's what was at stake.
A weapon stronger than anything most players could ever hope to touch. And Zach had the nerve to joke about love right now?
Lucas let out a heavy sigh. Well... maybe that was a bit extreme. Finding a girlfriend wasn't a bad thing, but priorities, man! This was game life and death.
Right now, the only thing that mattered was winning the freshman competition.
Though that girl—Amelia Su, the Holy Shield Knight—was clearly someone with immense defensive talent, Lucas had never once considered pursuing her romantically. Not even close.
She was a potential team asset. Not a crush.
That's all there was to it.
But Zach and the others? They'd clearly misunderstood. They probably thought Lucas had ulterior motives—some romantic angle.
Falling in love with a socially anxious girl? Seriously?
Lucas wanted to roll his eyes until they popped out.
"I'm not the kind of guy who takes advantage of others," he thought with a mental shrug. "My only focus right now is that Legendary gear."
A true gamer knows what's important.
If you handed him a choice between the love of his life and an overpowered piece of gear? He'd pick the loot. Without blinking.
"Women will only slow down the speed at which I draw my sword!" Lucas declared proudly in his head.
"Freshman competition, huh…" Zach scratched the back of his head, looking sheepish. The look on Lucas's face made it pretty clear: the two of them had been talking on totally different wavelengths.
Zach realized it then—Lucas was a purist. A true warrior with a single goal: to become stronger.
"What, you don't want the Legendary gear?" Lucas asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.
How could Zach be so calm about something worth tens of millions?
Was he just so rich that he didn't care?
"Well," Zach admitted, glancing at Noah Chen. "I'm only an A-Level talent. Honestly, I just barely scraped into Kyoto University."
He gave a self-deprecating smile.
"To some people, I might look like a genius. But compared to you monsters? I'm just a regular guy."
He let out a long sigh.
"I'm here to be part of the crowd. The odds of me winning are pretty much zero."
Noah nodded slowly. "Same here. It's not that I don't want the gear. It's just... it feels so far away."
Zach scratched his chin and added, "Plus, if we're being honest, my family can probably afford Legendary Level gear…"
Lucas stared at him, deadpan.
Noah's head whipped toward Zach, betrayal written all over his face.
"Then why are you even here?" Noah snapped.
Zach blinked innocently. "For the vibes?"
Lucas almost burst out laughing.
Then Zach glanced over to the quietest member of their dorm.
"But Mason might be a real contender," he said thoughtfully.
Mason didn't say anything, but his body stiffened. Zach had clearly hit a nerve.
He respected Lucas's power, but that didn't mean he wanted to live in his shadow.
Mason had his own pride.
He might not be the loudest or most sociable, but he was an S-Level Talent just like Lucas—and he had his own ambitions.
"Right," Lucas agreed, crossing his arms. "He's already Level 17. A month's enough to complete his job transition."
Lucas didn't underestimate quiet players. He knew better. And Mason's aura told him everything—he had the grit.
"I…"
Mason opened his mouth as if to say something, but then just nodded.
Lucas gave him a firm pat on the shoulder. "Go for it."
That small gesture was more than encouragement—it was recognition between two geniuses.
"Alright then, I'll give it everything too!" Noah suddenly shouted, slapping his own chest.
"Even if I don't win, I'll fight hard so I won't regret it later!"
His eyes were burning with new resolve.
Lucas smiled. "That's the spirit."
He gave Noah a thumbs-up.
Zach looked around nervously. "So… is it too late for me to change my mind?"
The dorm erupted in laughter.
In that moment, all four roommates were united under the same fire.
They would each give their all. For the gear. For the pride. For themselves.
---
They weren't alone.
Across the entire campus, freshmen were buzzing with energy.
Some were meditating under waterfalls. Others were sprinting with weights tied to their backs. Some were holed up in training rooms, refusing to leave.
The bait the principal had dropped—that single Legendary item—had turned the entire school into a battlefield.
Everyone was scrambling, grinding, preparing.
They were rolling up like crazy.
No one wanted to be left behind.
---
The next morning, Lucas stepped into his classroom and was immediately confused.
"Wait... what?"
He stared at Counselor Cao, who stood at the front with a big smile.
"You're the new class monitor!" the counselor announced cheerfully.
Lucas blinked.
"Huh? I didn't even apply!"
The room broke out in supportive cheers.
"Lucas, don't refuse! You're our top pick!"
"Yeah, you're super strong and reliable—perfect monitor material."
"Didn't you say yesterday that you'd be number one in the grade? Why chicken out now?"
"Come on, Lucas! Our national champion can't be afraid of a little responsibility!"
Lucas felt like he'd stepped into a trap. A very public one.
He forced a smile. These guys were clearly up to something.
It wasn't admiration—they just wanted him distracted.
Make the strongest guy waste time on paperwork and planning events? Classic move.
They were trying to wear him down before the real battle began.
Lucas couldn't even be mad. This was a clever play. Ruthless... but clever.
"Well played," he thought. "I've walked right into it."
Zach jumped to his feet. "Hey, Boss Lucas didn't even sign up!"
Noah and Mason looked equally annoyed.
But Lucas raised his hand and silenced them.
"…Fine," he said coldly. "I'll be the monitor."
A ripple of confusion spread through the class.
"I'll take the role. Just don't come crying when you regret it."
His voice was calm, but his eyes were sharp.
The message was clear: you can throw politics at me. I'll win anyway.
---
End of Chapter 55
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