John Snow woke up with a start, his face pressed into the cold, hard floor of his dorm room. The morning sunlight filtered in through the cracked shutters, highlighting the patchy mattress and the one lone chair that served as his "furniture." He sat up groggily, rubbing his face and muttering curses.
"Another day, another copper to be made," he grumbled.
He reached for the chipped mirror propped against the wall and stared at his reflection. A thin face with uneven features, perpetually messy black hair, and a nose slightly too big for his face stared back at him. He sighed.
"If I had a gold coin for every time someone called me ugly," he muttered, "I'd be a rich man by now."
Unfortunately, he didn't have any gold coins.
Breakfast at the Academy
John trudged to the Academy's dining hall, his stomach growling loudly enough to make heads turn. The room was bustling with students, most of them laughing and chatting in groups.
As John walked in, the noise seemed to die down slightly, and a few people glanced his way.
"Hey, it's him," someone whispered loudly.
"The one who looks like a goblin," another added with a snicker.
John ignored them, but his ears burned. He grabbed a tray and got in line, eyeing the food with a calculating gaze. Bread rolls, porridge, and a suspicious-looking meat stew.
"Two copper coins," the lunch lady barked.
"Two coppers?!" John exclaimed, clutching his chest like she'd just stabbed him. "That's robbery!"
The lunch lady raised an eyebrow. "It's the same price as always."
"Can't you give me a discount?" John leaned in, lowering his voice. "Look, I know I don't look like much, but I'm practically a hero. I killed a Goblin Overlord last week."
"And I'm the Queen of Aster," she replied dryly. "Pay up or move along."
Grumbling, John fished two tarnished copper coins from his pocket and handed them over.
A Lucrative Proposition
After breakfast, John wandered the Academy grounds, thinking about his dire financial situation. His necromantic powers were growing, sure, but power didn't pay for new boots or better food.
He needed money. Lots of it.
"Hey, Snow!" a familiar voice called out.
John turned to see Kara jogging toward him, her usual bright grin plastered across her face. Behind her, Lucas and Brant followed, looking equally amused.
"Morning, team," John said, trying to sound cheerful.
"You still alive, or did your reflection scare you to death?" Kara teased.
Lucas snorted. "Careful, Kara. If you keep making jokes, he might charge you for them."
John crossed his arms. "Laugh all you want, but someday I'll be rich enough to buy this entire Academy."
Kara raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly are you planning to do that? By selling your looks as a warning poster?"
Brant chuckled. "Or renting out your skeletons as cheap labor?"
John's eyes lit up at the idea. "That's not a bad plan, actually..."
The others stared at him, their laughter fading.
"You're serious," Kara said flatly.
"Of course I'm serious!" John replied. "Skeletons don't eat, don't sleep, and work tirelessly. They'd be perfect for construction or mining. I could undercut every other labor force in the city!"
"That's... horrifying," Lucas muttered.
"And profitable," John added with a grin.
Dungeon Farming for Gold
Later that day, the team was assigned to clear a small dungeon on the outskirts of the city. It was a low-tier dungeon, supposedly infested with slimes, but John saw it as an opportunity to make some quick cash.
"Listen up," John said as they entered the dungeon. "This time, we're going to be strategic. No wasting mana or resources. Kill efficiently, loot everything, and don't break anything valuable."
"Who put you in charge?" Andor's voice drawled from the back of the group.
John turned to face the noble, plastering on his most charming smile. "Oh, I'm sorry, Andor. Did you want to lead? Because last time you almost got us all killed."
Andor scowled but said nothing.
"Thought so," John said smugly.
The slimes in the dungeon were weak, but they dropped a surprising amount of useful materials—mana cores, alchemical ingredients, and even a few shiny coins.
John practically vibrated with excitement as he scooped up a handful of mana cores.
"These things sell for five silvers each in the market!" he said, stuffing them into his bag. "If we clear the whole dungeon, we'll be rich!"
"Rich?" Kara repeated. "You mean you'll be rich."
"Details," John replied, waving her off.
The Slime King
Near the end of the dungeon, the team encountered the Slime King—a massive, quivering blob of jelly with a crown embedded in its gelatinous body.
"This one's mine," John said, stepping forward.
"Yours?" Brant said incredulously. "You can barely take on a normal slime!"
"Watch and learn," John replied, summoning his skeleton warriors.
The skeletons charged at the Slime King, hacking away at its gooey body with rusted swords. Meanwhile, John activated his [Soul Manipulation] skill, absorbing fragments from the lesser slimes to strengthen himself.
The Slime King lunged at him, its body rippling with force, but John dodged nimbly, his shovel glowing with dark energy.
With a dramatic leap, he plunged the shovel into the Slime King's core, shattering it. The creature let out a gurgling shriek before collapsing into a puddle of slime.
[Dungeon Boss Defeated: Slime King]
EXP Gained: 400
Soul Fragments Collected (3).
Loot: Slime King Crown (Rare Item), 10 Gold Coins.
John held up the crown triumphantly, his face split into a wide grin.
"This is it," he said, his voice trembling with excitement. "My ticket to fortune!"
"You're not seriously keeping that, are you?" Kara asked, wrinkling her nose.
"Of course I am," John replied. "It's worth at least fifty gold!"
"You'd look ridiculous wearing it," Lucas said.
"Ridiculous or rich?" John countered, placing the slimy crown on his head.
The team burst into laughter.
"You look like a court jester," Andor said, smirking.
John ignored them, already imagining the piles of gold he'd soon be swimming in.
Back in the City
After cashing in the dungeon loot, John felt like a new man—or at least a slightly less poor one. He wandered the market, haggling relentlessly with every vendor he encountered.
"Five silvers for this mana potion?" he said, aghast. "Do I look like a noble?"
The vendor, an elderly woman, frowned. "Fine, three silvers. But only because you're so... persistent."
"Persistent," John repeated with a grin. "I'll take it as a compliment."
By the end of the day, John's coin pouch was significantly heavier, but so was the weight of everyone's ridicule. As he passed by a group of fellow students, they pointed and whispered.
"Hey, look, it's the 'Slime King!'" one of them said, mimicking John's crown pose.
"Nice crown, Your Majesty," another added, laughing.
John scowled but kept walking. "Laugh all you want," he muttered. "Someday, I'll be the richest, ugliest guy in the world."
And he meant it.
In his mind, riches were the ultimate power. And if he had to endure a little humiliation along the way, so be it. After all, even the ugliest goblin could build an empire—with enough gold.
John Snow adjusted his coin pouch for the fifteenth time that day, savoring the satisfying clink of coins. His newfound wealth was a meager collection by anyone else's standards, but to John, it was the start of an empire.
He strutted through the Academy courtyard with the swagger of a man who thought he was untouchable. Unfortunately, his self-proclaimed aura of success didn't translate well.
"Hey, it's John 'Shovel King' Snow!" someone shouted from a group of students lounging nearby.
John froze mid-stride.
"And he's rocking his signature weapon," another added, pointing at the battered shovel strapped to his back.
John turned slowly, his face a mix of irritation and wounded pride. "It's a tactical weapon," he said defensively. "Versatile, durable, and—"
"Looks like you dug it out of a trash heap," the first student interrupted, causing the group to erupt in laughter.
John held up a hand dramatically. "Laugh all you want, peasants! This shovel has seen more action than all of you combined!"
"Yeah, action in a compost bin," a voice quipped.
The laughter grew louder, and John muttered under his breath, "Someday I'll be too rich for this nonsense."
A "Brilliant" Investment
Determined to prove his worth, John headed to the Academy's market district to spend his hard-earned coin. The bustling stalls overflowed with wares, from magical artifacts to exotic foods.
His eyes landed on a gaudy booth decorated with flashing magical lights and a sign that read:
"RODRIK'S MAGICAL BARGAINS – QUALITY GUARANTEED (KINDA)"
John strolled up confidently, already envisioning himself decked out in gear befitting his "heroic" status.
"Welcome, welcome!" the vendor, a wiry man with an overly enthusiastic grin, greeted him. "You, sir, have the look of a discerning customer. A man who knows value!"
John puffed up his chest. "You're absolutely right. I'm here to make a wise investment."
Rodrik's grin widened. "Then you're in the right place. May I interest you in this one-of-a-kind, enchanted cloak?"
The vendor held up a tattered gray cloak with faint stains on it.
"It's... uh... pre-loved," Rodrik explained. "But its invisibility enchantment is top-notch!"
John's eyes gleamed. "Invisibility? How much?"
"Thirty gold coins," Rodrik said, rubbing his hands together.
"Thirty?!" John exclaimed, clutching his pouch protectively. "Do I look like I was born yesterday?"
Rodrik tilted his head. "Honestly? A little."
John glared at him. "Fifteen coins, and that's generous."
"Twenty-five," Rodrik countered.
"Seventeen."
"Twenty-three, final offer!"
"Seventeen and one copper," John shot back, crossing his arms.
Rodrik sighed. "Fine, seventeen and two coppers."
"Deal!"
John handed over the money and snatched the cloak, draping it around his shoulders. He struck a dramatic pose.
"How do I look?" he asked.
Rodrik hesitated. "Invisible... ish?"
John blinked. "What do you mean, 'ish'?"
Rodrik gestured vaguely. "It only works if you stand really still. And also in low light. Oh, and maybe don't breathe too much."
John's eye twitched. "You sold me a glorified bedsheet!"
"An enchanted bedsheet," Rodrik corrected. "Pleasure doing business!"
The Academy Sparring Grounds
Later that afternoon, John arrived at the sparring grounds, eager to test his "new" gear. The other students were practicing their skills, and as usual, John became an instant target for mockery.
"Hey, Snow, what's with the cloak?" a burly warrior named Garret shouted. "Going to a costume party?"
John smirked. "Laugh all you want, but this is a state-of-the-art, invisibility-enhancing cloak. You wouldn't understand."
Garret snorted. "Prove it, then. Let's see you 'disappear.'"
A crowd began to gather, sensing an impending spectacle.
"Fine," John said, pulling the cloak's hood over his head. "Behold the power of—"
Before he could finish, a gust of wind blew the cloak's hood back, and someone shouted, "Look, it's the Slime King's Crown!"
The crowd erupted in laughter as John fumbled to readjust the hood, his face now as red as a fire elemental.
"Stop laughing! I'm serious!" he snapped.
"Yeah, we believe you," Kara said, barely containing her laughter. "You're definitely 'invisible.' We can almost not see you."
"Mock all you want," John huffed. "But this cloak is a game-changer."
Garret stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. "How about you prove it in a sparring match, Snow?"
John hesitated, but the crowd's expectant gazes pushed him forward. "Fine. Prepare to lose to someone you can't even see."
A "Stealthy" Battle
As the match began, John pulled the cloak tightly around himself and stood perfectly still.
Garret raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"
"Shh!" John hissed. "I'm invisible now."
"You're... literally just standing there," Garret said, clearly unimpressed.
John took a tentative step forward, trying to move stealthily. The cloak snagged on a loose nail, tearing loudly.
The crowd burst into hysterical laughter.
"Best. Invisibility. Ever," Kara said between gasps of laughter.
Flustered, John activated [Shadow Bond], summoning a skeletal warrior to fight in his place.
"There! Let's see you laugh now!" he shouted.
Unfortunately, the skeleton tripped over its own sword and fell face-first into the dirt.
"Bravo, Snow," Andor said, clapping sarcastically. "Truly a master of subtlety."
John groaned, rubbing his temples.
A New Scheme
By the time the sparring session ended, John was covered in dirt, his cloak was in tatters, and his dignity was in ruins.
As he limped back to his dorm, he muttered to himself, "I'll show them. I don't need their approval. All I need is gold. Sweet, shiny, beautiful gold."
He paused, an idea forming in his mind.
"If I can't impress them with my looks or skills, I'll bury them in my wealth!"
A sinister grin spread across his face. The Gravebound was about to embark on his greatest quest yet: becoming the richest (and still ugliest) man in the land.