I CHOSE to be a VILLAIN, not a THIRD-RATE EXTRA!!-Chapter 107: Way too Strong

Ashok's hand rested lightly on Henry's shoulder as he patted it a few times, his touch deliberate and commanding. "Good," he said with measured calmness, his tone brokering no argument.

"Now turn around and start walking. Don't look back." The words were spoken as though they were law, and they carried an undercurrent of finality that Henry could not defy.

Without hesitation—and without even loosening his tie—Henry obeyed. His body moved as though on autopilot, pivoting neatly before he began walking along the bridge.

Behind him, Ashok followed at an unhurried pace, his footsteps echoing rhythmically against the cobblestones as the two made their way toward the Academy.

As Henry walked, his mind swirled with a tumult of conflicting thoughts. 'Why am I following the words of a newcomer? How can he talk like that—so bluntly, so brazenly—inside the Academy? Who is this stalker he mentioned, using surveillance magic on him?

And if someone really is watching him, how did I fail to notice while he could sense it? Is he stronger than me?' The questions piled one atop the other, their weight bearing down on his confidence.

His steps faltered slightly, but he forced himself to maintain composure, even as his inner turmoil grew. 'I'm the senior here! Shouldn't I assert my authority? Maybe I should… No. Should I try to fight?'

Yet, the piercing red eyes behind him—eyes that had left an indelible impression—flashed vividly in his mind, and his courage wavered.

'Let's leave it. There's no point in fighting someone who's just arrived at the Academy. I heard rumors about exceptionally talented first-years in the Aether Class—this is even being called the Golden Era of the Academy by the teachers.

Maybe he's one of those prodigies. It's better not to make unnecessary enemies.'

Henry's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, but in the end, he resigned himself with a justification that conveniently patched his bruised ego.

His mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, but in the end, he resigned himself with a justification that conveniently patched his bruised ego.

Behind the scenes, however, the Vice Dean sat in his office, his focus locked onto the Surveillance Orb. He rubbed his eyes he replayed the interaction that had unfolded.

Initially, he had intended to look away once Adlet entered the Academy; the boy's entrance was enough of a curiosity but hardly worth further scrutiny.

Yet, the Dean's cryptic words about Adlet had planted a seed of intrigue in his mind—a question that refused to be ignored. 'What does she see in this kid?' he wondered as he continued observing.

The Vice Dean leaned back in his chair, his hand hovering over the now-dormant Surveillance Orb. Turning it off had been an act of self-preservation as much as decency.

Being called a "fucker" and a "stalker" by a new student had stung his pride, but continuing to monitor Adlet after such accusations would have been crossing a line even he wasn't willing to breach.

Besides, confronting the boy about it would only confirm the truth of his actions—a scenario far too humiliating to entertain.

As he sat in the quiet of his office, the Vice Dean's thoughts began to crystallize. 'I see it now,' he mused, his lips curling into a faint smile. 'This is why the Dean called him special.'

The boy's power wasn't just raw strength or magical prowess—it was something far more subtle and dangerous.

His words alone had been enough to cow a senior two years his senior, a member of the Student Council no less. That kind of influence, wielded so effortlessly, was rare.

And then there was the matter of Adlet's senses. The Vice Dean couldn't ignore the fact that the boy had detected the surveillance magic—a spell so well-concealed that even seasoned staff might have missed it.

'To sense something like that at his age… he's not just talented. He's extraordinary.'

The Vice Dean's smile widened as he considered the implications. Every talented student was a treasure to the Academy, a potential asset that could elevate its reputation and legacy.

The Vice Dean didn't knew that everything he thought was a misconception.

…

Ashok exhaled deeply as he processed the notification displayed before him

[Attention Level: None]

A wave of relief washed over him, breaking the tension that had been lingering since he first set foot on Academy grounds.

'Finally, peace at last. Even though I'm adapting to this False Monarch Trait, it pricks my conscience knowing someone's watching me and they're not standing in front of me.'

The unease had been gnawing at him like an itch he couldn't scratch, but now that the surveillance had ceased, a sense of tranquility returned.

His gaze shifted forward to Henry's back, observing the Senior Council Treasurer as the two continued walking along the floating bridge.

'I have to admit,' Ashok thought, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, 'this new effect of the False Monarch Trait is incredibly powerful, even though it's supposed to work only with a slight chance. Being able to scare someone in the Student Council like this feels satisfying.'

Ashok's analytical mind didn't let the moment pass without calculation.

He considered Henry's rank, estimating that as a third-year and a member of the Student Council, Henry likely stood at C or B Rank—a respectable level of power for a student.

'If my words alone can work on someone like him,' Ashok reasoned, 'then this effect isn't just useful—it's a major boost to my strength.'

Ashok's mind churned with possibilities as he walked along the ethereal bridge, his thoughts fixating on the mechanics of his False Monarch Trait.

'It works on actions and words, but what does the slight chance mean? Actions and words aren't physical or magical attacks, so how can something like a critical hit chance apply here?'

His analytical habits from the days he played the game resurfaced, guiding his thinking as if it were second nature. Instead of blindly relying on his abilities,

Ashok had always sought to understand their nuances and boundaries—the limits that defined them.

It was this meticulous approach that had set him apart, enabling him to uncover secrets others overlooked. 'Does the slight chance depend on every individual word I speak, or does it account for the overall intent and impact of what I say?'

Ashok's history as a player, one who sought to perceive and exploit every single trait, art, or skill to its fullest potential, now informed his perspective in reality.

That relentless pursuit of understanding, combined with his strategic mindset, was one of the reasons he had been able to discover the Final Hidden Boss—a feat others might have thought impossible.

Ashok's thoughts churned with a growing determination as he acknowledged the oversight he'd made in the game, neglecting the potential of personality traits like the False Monarch.

'That's a mistake I can't afford here. Everything at my disposal must be used to get stronger,'

Without hesitation, he mentally summoned the description of the False Monarch trait.

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False Monarch

Grade: Intermediate

Description: The User inherited this trait from the previous owner of the body because of ME. The trait is given to those who are born with the destiny to rule but can never get a Throne.

Effect: Depending on the Level of Attention the User receives, the User's speech and actions will change to that of a Monarch.

Additional Effect: Depending on the Level the Attention, the User's words have the slight chance to amplify the emotions of the listener.

Remark: KEEP IT UP! EMBRACE YOUR DOOM.

'The Status from the game never revealed the full extent of how someone could use their trait. It always depended on the individual's interpretation and ingenuity.' He understood that traits weren't rigid—like tools, they were shaped by how the user chose to wield them.

As he read each word carefully, his sharp attention caught a subtle yet significant distinction. The trait's primary effect stated: 'The user's speech and actions will change to that of a monarch.'

Meanwhile, the additional effect read: 'The user's words have the slight chance to amplify the emotions of the listener.' Ashok thoughts froze for a moment, dissecting the phrasing as his thoughts unraveled the difference between 'speech' and 'words.'

'By the basic definition, a speech is the act of speaking or communicating, encompassing both language and mannerisms.

A word, on the other hand, is a single distinct element within a speech,' he thought, his reasoning peeling back the layers of the trait's description.

His crimson eyes narrowed slightly as he delved further. 'The description specifically mentions "User's Words."

That means if I utter isolated words like "the," "a," or "an," there wouldn't be any impact—they're standalone fragments without meaningful context.

But when words are strung together into phrases that start making sense to the listener, that's when the trait likely comes into play.'

Ashok let the idea settle, his steps echoing against the cobblestones of the floating bridge.

'The best explanation I can think of is this: once I speak more than two words forming a coherent statement, there's a slight chance the False Monarch's additional effect activates.

This makes the amplification of emotions dependent on context and meaning when even two word start making sense.

But isn't this way too strong.'

Ashok walked the length of the floating bridge, his mind entangled in strategies and theories about the intricacies of the False Monarch trait.

Meanwhile, Henry, trudging ahead of Ashok, felt a persistent unease trailing him the entire way. With every step, the sensation of being watched—or rather judged—gnawed at the edges of his confidence.

'I should not have come to pick this guy,' Henry lamented, his mind looping through a string of regrets.

The chill climbing his spine seemed to mirror the weight of Ashok's unwavering stare, though it was clear that Ashok's focus was elsewhere.

'Why did I even volunteer for this?' Henry cursed silently, his steps quickening as if to escape the unsettling atmosphere.

Ashok, however, was oblivious to Henry's discomfort, too absorbed in the deeper implications of his trait. 'The World will never give me such kind of power that easily.

I need to increase the grade of this trait for a more decisive understanding. Only then will its full potential become clear.'