SWNOVELXO Chapter 199: Compensation(3)
'So, Mr. Special is one of those Silver Tongues my master warned me about' thought Gideon, his eyes narrowing slightly.
'The type who always twists situations in their favor with nothing but words. The kind who never loses a battle of wit—because they make the rules with their tongue before the game even begins.'
He exhaled quietly through his mouth, unsettled.
'But Master also said those Silver Tongues are usually clever… discreet… calculating. So why does Mr. Special keep proving himself to be a madman in front of everyone?'
It didn't add up.
If Adlet truly had the intellect of a Silver Tongue, why did he constantly draw attention, stirring chaos wherever he stepped?
Wouldn't someone truly smart try to stay in the shadows… not burn under every spotlight?
Just a short distance away, Varnok stood with a furrowed brow, trying to digest the earlier exchange.
'Human legs have thirty bones… and the neck has seven?' he repeated mentally, blinking.
He looked down at his own long limbs, then glanced at the other students.
'Wait a second... I'm taller than most of them. Does that mean I have more bones in my legs and neck?'
He scratched his head, completely oblivious to the tension lingering in the air around him.
A true musclehead, anyone watching would've thought.
'A mad freak in human skin…' Lilia's eyes narrowed, her expression darkening as her thoughts churned with disdain.
'Freaks like him are scattered all across the world—and yet it's us who are branded as villains?' She clicked her tongue in irritation, the hypocrisy of it all gnawing at her.
No matter how she looked at it, Adlet was no different from the people the world had condemned them to be.
He bore the same cold indifference as those mad mages, hiding behind the same twisted sense of righteousness.
'There is no way someone who is being raised as a Future Pillar of the World through the Academy even entertain such savage thoughts?'
Nearby, Valencia watched the scene unfold with a furrowed brow, her unease matching Lilia's, though her expression remained composed.
'There's something really wrong with that First Year's brain', she thought, unnerved—but like the others, she held her silence.
There was no wisdom in speaking out now after all everything was within Frederick's hands.
Then, breaking the heavy silence with a voice far too casual for the tension in the air, Ashok chuckled.
"You don't need to be so serious, Old Man," he said, tilting his head slightly, the ever-present grin still stretched across his face. "It was just a joke."
His tone was playful, but there was no warmth in it.
"After all, there's no way I'd actually break the neck of a senior…" He paused, the grin widening, sharp and mocking. "Even if that senior is a beggar and a thief."
Ashok, despite his composed demeanor, fully understood one thing—Frederick would never actually kill a student.
The old man was reckless and lunatic, sure, but still was a Teacher.
And truthfully, Ashok hadn't expected him to.
He was just having a bit of fun.
The old man had soured his mood earlier, dragging up that one topic he hated more than anything—family.
So when the opportunity for a little revenge presented itself, Ashok simply took it.
A minor act of retaliation. Nothing more.
"Your joke's not really that funny, brat," Frederick muttered, his brow furrowed.
The fact that he'd been outmaneuvered—cornered in front of students by a student—left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Ashok tilted his head slightly, a glint of amusement still dancing in his eyes.
"Is that so? Well, I had fun," he said casually, brushing a speck of dust from his sleeve like the entire confrontation had been no more than a passing inconvenience.
"So, let's just settle it this way—give me one month's worth of the credits from that Third Year receives by the Academy in the Aether Class for saving his seven bones."
He flashed a thin smile.
"And place some trap magic on my gate. I've had enough beggars knocking at my door lately. That'll be more than enough for punishment or compensation."
Frederick bit back the urge to scoff. Aren't you just a great thief yourself—snatching money from someone you call a beggar? he almost said aloud.
But he stopped himself. He knew better by now.
This crazy brat would only twist his words again—come up with another absurd argument wrapped in flawless logic.
Frederick had no interest in getting dragged into another verbal game with this Silver Tongue.
"Well! That seems fine," he said instead, forcing a neutral tone as he snapped his fingers.
In an instant, several glowing magic circles appeared around Ashok's gate, spiraling with different color magic circles brimming with mana before vanishing just as quickly.
"The monthly credits for a Third Year in the Aether Class amount to 15,000 credits," he continued, his voice clipped. "That amount will be deducted from the boy's account by tomorrow morning"
Frederick turned toward Ashok with a resigned sigh.
"Brat. Give me your ID card."
Frederick wasn't the sort of man to fumble through a student's pockets or order someone else to search them for an ID card.
There was no need for such theatrics.
The Academy recorded everything.
They could deduct credits from any student's account at will—and managing those balances fell squarely under the jurisdiction of the Maintenance Department.
Frederick happened to be its Head.
Ashok, without a word, handed over his ID card. As Frederick moved to process the deduction, his eyes caught something that made his brow twitch.
A "4" was neatly displayed beside the Merit Points section.
He frowned slightly.
'Wait... wasn't it just "2" yesterday?' He was sure of it.
He remembered it. That brat had two merit points just the day before.
His curiosity flared.
"Hey, brat!" he called, his voice lifting with interest rather than irritation. "What did you do this time to earn Merit Points?"
There was no edge in his tone—only genuine curiosity.
The last time Ashok gained merit, it had come attached to one of the most absurd and wildly entertaining tales Frederick had heard in years.
And now, his instincts tingled.
There had to be another story behind this. Another ridiculous incident. Another piece of juicy gossip to grin over.
Frederick leaned forward slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching into a half-smile.
"Well, it wasn't much of a big deal," Adlet said with a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I just made a little bet with Teacher Flakey."
Frederick's eyes narrowed at the name. Flakey... Flakey...
The name bounced in his head until it clicked.
'Ah, right—that overacting dreamer. He smirked. I nearly forgot about that fool after I beat the crap out of him. Good times.'
A mischievous glint sparked in Frederick's eyes. 'So the brat tangled with Flakey, huh? That's something I need to hear in detail. A junior teacher losing to a student within the Academy? Unacceptable. As a Senior it's my duty to remind my junior of his place.'
"Tell me everything," Frederick said, his grin widening, eager for the tale.
Adlet's expression didn't shift. Instead, his grin sharpened.
"How much?" he asked.
The grin vanished from Frederick's face like a candle snuffed out by wind. He immediately remembered: this brat was no ordinary student—he was a money-grubbing little thug.
With a heavy sigh, Frederick muttered, "10,000 credits."
"One Merit Point," Adlet countered instantly, still smiling like he held all the cards.
Frederick's eye twitched.
"15,000. Not a single credit more." His voice was flat, determined. A clear line had been drawn.
Ashok paused, considering his options.
Honestly, the tale wasn't worth a full Merit Point—it didn't have that kind of flair.
But that didn't mean he couldn't squeeze the old man a little.
"20,000 credits," he said casually. "Or go ask someone else."
He knew full well that Frederick wouldn't go to anyone else.
Sure, all the First Years had witnessed the bet with Flakey, but that didn't matter.
Frederick, the Gossip-Loving Grandpa, had a very particular quirk: gossip always sounded better when it came straight from the source.
Especially when the source caused the chaos.
It was a matter of pride for him—like a sommelier demanding to taste the wine freshly and directly from the vineyard.
Frederick stared at him for a moment, weighing the cost—and the inevitability.
"Fine," he muttered.
A magic circle shimmered to life in his palm, casting a soft blue glow. A moment later, a light flickered across Ashok's ID card—35,000 credits transferred.
His balance now sat comfortably above 40,000.
Ashok exhaled, relief brushing across his features.
Lately, his spending had started to drain his credits faster than expected, and the dwindling balance had begun to gnaw at the back of his mind.
But with this bump, he could breathe easy for a little while longer.
Ashok took his ID card with a small flick of his fingers and tucked it away.
"Let's go inside," he said smoothly. "You don't expect me to recount everything while standing out here, do you?"
Frederick gave a short nod and stepped down from the handrail, already eager to hear the full story.
But just as Ashok turned to walk away, he halted mid-step.
He glanced back over his shoulder, eyes sweeping over the crowd of stunned students still frozen in place, their expressions caught somewhere between awe and disbelief.
His voice rang out, casual yet sharp, laced with mockery.
"By the way…" he began, his tone just a touch too innocent.
"Who was the brainless fo—" he paused, letting the insult hang in the air before correcting himself with a sly grin, "—I mean, the host of the party?"