Everyone harbors a bit of vanity in their heart, and Greg was no exception.
Although his initial plan was to maintain a proper distance from these main characters and avoid getting too involved in the plot's whirlpool, sitting in a premium window seat at the Golden Crucible and feeling the ill-concealed envy, jealousy, and even disbelief from the other male customers around him brought a quiet sense of satisfaction.
After all, to an outsider who didn't know the situation, he appeared to be surrounded by three beautiful girls of completely different styles, living a life of absolute luxury.
This scene was enough to make any male peer let their imagination run wild and grit their teeth in envy.
"Sir, your menu."
A well-trained waiter appeared at the right moment, handing a beautifully decorated leather menu to Greg with both hands.
"Alright, thank—"
Greg habitually reached out to take the menu, but his thanks were cut short.
"Ngh!"
An indescribable, numbing pleasure, like a weak electric current, suddenly surged from the outside of his thigh!
The sensation was gentle yet precise, carrying the delicate friction unique to silk fabric. It brushed against his skin through the cloth of his trousers, reaching straight to his nerve endings.
The stimulation was so comfortable and unexpected that he almost failed to control his throat muscles, nearly letting out an unseemly groan.
His body stiffened almost imperceptibly, and he immediately looked down under the table.
Across from him, Silvia, who was sitting next to Victoria, had at some point quietly slipped off her right leather shoe under the cover of the tablecloth.
Now, that slender foot, encased in thin, sheer black stockings, was slightly arched. She was using the soft inner curve of her sole to smooth out the fabric of Greg's trousers.
The smoothness of the silk combined with the warmth of her skin brought a strange sensation that pierced straight to his heart.
Meanwhile, above the table, Silvia rested her elbows on the polished surface, tilting her head slightly. Her long pink hair slid over her shoulder, and her face wore a sweet, innocent smile that completely contradicted her actions below. Her pink eyes gazed clearly at Greg as she asked softly with concern:
"Senior Greg, what's wrong? Your face looks a bit... strange? Are you feeling unwell?"
Her expression and tone were such that anyone would think she was just a gentle junior caring for her senior.
Only that mischievous foot beneath the table betrayed the possessiveness surging in her heart—a reaction to hearing other girls discuss Greg back in the catacombs.
She hadn't found a suitable opportunity along the way, but now, beneath the table with her good friend just inches away, the taboo thrill made her heart race, fueling her excitement even further.
Is Silvia really turning into a total vixen? Nightmare might have been right; this is way too erotic!
Greg felt a rush of heat go straight to his head, and his cheeks burned slightly.
He endured the increasingly undeniable numbing pleasure on his thigh, struggling to maintain a calm expression. He even forced a somewhat stiff smile as he pushed the menu—which he had nearly crumpled—toward the girls.
"Ah, no... I'm fine. I might just be a little tired. You... you guys order first. See what you'd like to eat, don't hold back."
His voice sounded slightly deeper than usual, carrying an undetectable hint of tension.
Victoria suspected nothing. She immediately reached out for the menu, her gray eyes sparkling with the excitement of a freeloader.
"Really? Then it's settled! Since you said you're treating, I am definitely not going to be polite! I'm going to make up for everything I lost in the catacombs!"
Beneath the table, sensing Greg's stiff body and his lack of a clear rejection, the flame of guilt and excitement in Silvia's heart burned even brighter.
Thinking that she was doing this to the person her best friend, Victoria, liked right in front of her, the thrill of immorality made her almost tremble.
The pressure from her foot increased unconsciously. Her toes began to rub more slowly and purposefully, exploring toward deeper regions.
"Sss—"
Greg took a sharp breath. The hand resting on his lap clenched instantly, veins slightly bulging on the back of his hand.
He nearly jumped out of his seat.
The stimulation was too intense!
"Order... whatever you want, it's fine..."
Greg forced the words through gritted teeth. At the same time, he had to slightly adjust his sitting position, trying to move the target of the attack away from his vitals while making his predicament less obvious.
With Greg's financial permission granted, Victoria became even happier. She began to study the menu seriously, muttering things like "This looks good" and "This seems expensive, I have to try it."
From time to time, she would discuss dishes with Silvia beside her.
Meanwhile, Catherine, who was sitting next to Greg and quietly sipping lemon water, slightly furrowed her elegant brows.
Her azure eyes keenly captured the strange, suppressed look on Greg's face.
She set down her glass, thinking to herself: What's wrong with him? His face is flushing and paling, and his breathing seems unstable... Did he suffer some hidden injury during the battle in the catacombs that's acting up now? Or is it a side effect of mana exhaustion?
This thought caused her to lose focus for a moment.
Just then, Victoria finished picking a few dishes and handed the menu toward her. "Senior Catherine, why don't you see what you'd like to eat too?"
Catherine was still preoccupied with Greg's possible injuries. Being a bit distracted, her fingers slipped as she reached for it.
Clatter.
The beautifully decorated leather menu fell to the floor with a dull thud.
"Ah, sorry, Senior Catherine!" Victoria apologized quickly.
"It's fine, I just didn't have a good grip on it."
Catherine's tone was calm as she bent down, preparing to pick up the menu that had landed near her feet.
Her movements were elegant and natural as she looked down.
And then—
Her body froze almost imperceptibly halfway through her bend.
Beneath the tablecloth, the light was dim, but it was enough for her to see clearly.
Across from her, on Greg's trouser leg, sat a beautifully curved foot encased in a black stocking.
And the owner of that foot...
Catherine's gaze followed the foot upward, past the edge of the tablecloth, to the other side.
Silvia was blushing slightly as she discussed desserts with Victoria, a shy and sweet smile on her face as if she were completely unaware of what was happening under the table.
Greg sat there with a stiff body, his expression a mask of forced calm, though fine beads of sweat seemed to have formed on his forehead.
"...!"
In an instant, Catherine felt as if her brain had been doused with ice water, then thrown into boiling oil.
Countless fragments of information exploded within her high-speed business mind.
Although she had noticed Silvia's interest in Greg before, what she completely hadn't expected was this.
They... have already progressed to this point? And in this kind of setting? Right in front of Victoria and me?
Is this... including us as part of their play?!
Even Catherine, who was used to the deception, dark schemes, and the many facets of human nature in the business world, felt an unprecedented shock and a hint of... absurdity.
She had seen people putting on an act for profit and witnessed superficial intimacy, but a secret provocation like this beneath a dining table in a public place—and the target was that Greg Sass, whom she understood less and less...
This completely exceeded her past knowledge and experience.
She maintained her bent posture for only about half a second.
Then, with incredible self-control, she quickly suppressed all outward emotion. Her face returned to its impeccable, flat expression. As if she had seen nothing at all, she naturally picked up the menu and sat back up.
However, as she returned to her seat, her body seemed a fraction stiffer than before, and her fingers clenched the water glass a bit tighter without her realizing it.
"..."
She picked up the glass and took another sip, using it to mask her momentary lapse.
Her mind was in turmoil, but her powerful logic immediately began to analyze the situation.
Was this an accidental moment of losing control? Or was it some kind of deliberate display or test? Does Silvia know about the contract between Greg and me? Is Greg's attitude toward this one of consent or coercion? How will this affect my observations and plans?
Countless questions swirled in her head, but on the surface, she had returned to her cool and composed senior persona. She began to flip through the menu nonchalantly and placed an order for several dishes with a steady voice, as if the heart-pounding scene under the table had never entered her sight.
"...!!!"
Across the table, both Silvia and Greg had their hearts in their throats during the brief moment Catherine bent down and sat back up.
Silvia's foot froze instantly, not daring to move again.
Greg held his breath, the thought "I'm screwed" flashing through his mind.
However, seeing Catherine sit back normally and place her order calmly, both of them secretly breathed a sigh of relief in their hearts.
Thank goodness... she doesn't seem to have seen anything, or things would have gotten complicated.
Both of them had gotten a bit carried away just now. Especially Silvia—under the influence of that sense of immorality and excitement, her movements had become increasingly bold, to the point where she failed to stop immediately when Catherine bent down.
Now that they had cooled down, both felt a wave of lingering fear.
Having survived this heart-stopping scare, Silvia finally quietly retracted her foot and slipped it back into her shoe. Her cheeks were still flushed, and she kept her head down, pretending to focus on the cutlery in front of her. She didn't dare look at Greg or Catherine.
Greg also took the opportunity to quickly and discreetly adjust his slightly disarrayed trousers while calming his still-racing heart and physical reactions.
At the same time, a certain thought became even more resolute in his mind.
It seems that during the Five Academy Tournament in Act Three, I have to find a way to get the current Saintess of the Holy Church of Light to help me remove this damn Chastity Mark!
Otherwise, if this keeps up, just dealing with Silvia's sneak attacks will give me internal injuries from holding back!
He took the menu that Silvia silently handed back, checked off a few dishes that looked decent, and then raised his hand to signal a waiter.
Footsteps soon sounded behind him.
"I've chosen. One of everything checked on here."
Greg didn't turn around, instead handing the menu directly to the person behind him.
The woman behind him took the menu, quickly scanned the selections, and the smile on her face brightened a bit more.
She looked up at Greg, her voice still sweet.
"Master Greg, are you sure... you want to order this much? The dishes at the Golden Crucible are... quite expensive, you know~"
The end of her sentence trailed off playfully, tinged with a hint of mockery.
"Hmm?"
Greg's brow furrowed. The bit of vanity from being surrounded by beauties and the lingering excitement from earlier were instantly dispersed by this reminder that seemed to look down on him.
Are those moronic tropes from novels actually real? Do I really have to pull a 'Return of the Dragon King' scenario just to place an order?
"Since you're using that tone, I won't hide it anymore. I'm coming clean. Actually, I—"
He was just about to give this short-sighted waitress a piece of his mind, letting her know the meaning of "Thirty years to the east, thirty years to the west—never look down on a poor youth!"
But then, he suddenly noticed something he had ignored before.
Namely, why did she know his name?
And why did that voice sound somewhat familiar?
An ominous premonition began to rise in his heart.
When he tremblingly turned his head all the way and saw the face of this 'waitress,' all his grand words and emotions froze in his throat.
It was a face that was both incredibly familiar and beautiful.
Her dark gold hair was meticulously tied back in a bun, revealing a smooth forehead and exquisite features.
Her pale blue eyes were as calm as still water, quietly watching him. There was even a subtle, cold curve at the corner of her mouth.
An ice-cold sensation, like a venomous snake, instantly coiled around Greg's heart, making his hair stand on end.
"......"
The expression on Greg's face shifted from slight annoyance to bewilderment, and then to terror, all within a single second.
He opened his mouth, his throat dry. With a voice trembling in a way he didn't even realize, he squeezed out a smile that looked more like a sob.
"W-What a coincidence, Allie... I didn't expect to run into you here... It seems, it seems you're doing... pretty well for yourself? Ha, haha..."
Allie tilted her head slightly, her pale blue eyes staring at Greg without blinking. The curve of her smile didn't change at all, but deep in her eyes, something icy seemed to be condensing.
Her voice remained steady, even gentle, but the words she spoke made Greg feel as if he had fallen into an ice cellar.
"Master Greg, I'm going to kill you~"
Then, the glint of a cold white blade emerging from beneath her skirt reflected off Greg's face.
Greg silently swallowed a mouthful of saliva. He was... completely breaking out in a cold sweat.
Rate on N.U.
