Leveling Endlessly with the Strongest System!

Roy was in a busy street, taking up space, so he was rightfully cursed at. Ashamed, he started walking.

Across the street was a huge, grand gate. It was the entrance to Bernice's tailor.

On its third floor was a private seating area.

Only a handful of people could come here.

Occupying it was a young girl, around the age of 18, and an old man in black.

She pointed at Roy in amusement. "Grandpa Blake, see that guy down there…. doesn't he seems familiar?"

Grand Knight Blake directed his gaze to the person that was pointed out by Bernice.

"Hidden behind the stainless crystal dome is a mystery covered in rumors both great and low, which is known as the "Third Young Master." He resembles the rumored third son of the Fierce Sword. But… he's known to have never left the dime. What would he be doing in the Southern District that's so far away from his house without escorts? Not to mention, this guy is at the perfected stage of body tempering. Looking at the way he is walking and breathing, I can tell that he can rip apart a Level 10 boss monster with his hand. He must be born with divine strength." Blake unknowingly praised "Roy."

"H-he… is so amazing?!" Bernice's eyes glowed gold with holy light radiating out of them as Blake's word made her look at the Sumo-like person in a new light.

Blake gave her a nod.

"There's no way he's your brother-in-law."

Bernice agreed.

"Yeah… no way..."

The street Roy entered after leaving the alley was a busy street with horse-driven carriages, roadside stalls, and a crowd. There were many who looked at him like he was a rare animal in a zoo, pointing their finger and making fun of him. Roy didn't give them a second of his life and kept his focus on the road.

But sometimes, one couldn't avoid trouble even if one wanted to.

"Wait. I said… stop right there."

Just as he was reaching for the entrance gate of Bernice's tailor, a shady figure suddenly rushed out and stopped in front of Roy, blocking his way forward. It was a man with baggy eyes and bad breath, wearing a light body armor and having a sheathed sword strapped to his side.

The smell of alcohol wafted off of him, and he stood unstable, seemingly quite drunk.

『You've inspected Carl Grayson』

『You've gained his "Attribute Screen" and "Character Information"』

22 years old

Level: 10

STR: 24

AGT: 17

Stamina: 14

『Years of debauchery have ruined his body. Among people with an opened Aura Gate, he is the most pathetic.』

"What?" Without kindness in his eyes, Roy questioned the drunk man.

"We're... not... accepting visitors," Carl replied, occasionally hicking.

He took a step ahead to come offensively close to Roy and burped on his face.

The smell that assaulted Roy not only made him scrunch up his nose but almost exploded his fuse.

His fingers curled into a fist, but he didn't punch out, taking the county's rules into consideration.

"I can see people from all walks of life going in and out of the shop." Roy tried to reason with the drunk man with a deadpan face. "Why are you singling me out? Do you hold some kind of prejudice against me?"

But his words fell on a beast's ear.

How could "It" understand a person's words?!

Roy's chest was stabbed with a finger an unpleasant amount of times as Carl snorted disdainfully, "Did the fat... get in your eyes too, piggy?! Take a careful look at them. They are neat and clean, but you... you look like a freak. I can smell the scent of rotten egg wafting off of you."

'Did I just get made fun of by a drunk bastard?' Roy seethed inside.

Gurgling sounds were heard from in front. Roy caught the sight of the puking Carl just in time and took a long and hasty step to the side, evading the smelly filth that shot out of Carl's mouth. It splashed on the spot Roy stood a moment ago. The people close by distanced themselves from them. Some stopped, wanting to see the show that was to begin. The other ran away. One rushed inside the shop to inform Lord Gray that his son was causing trouble again.

Deep creases appeared on Roy's forehead as he frowned and looked at Carl in great disgust.

Who pukes at others at the first meeting? If he hadn't moved, this bastard's puke would've surely splashed on his clothes. Roy was greatly angered by Carl.

"Ahh, feel much better." Carl wiped his mouth and grinned at Roy. "... An honourable guest is having a meeting with my master inside. The sight of you might displease her. That's why... I won't let you enter my shop. Come back another time."

The busty woman behind Carl wrinkled up her nose and disdainfully looked at Roy. "He's right. You smell of feces."

She wasn't the last one to taunt Roy as another joined in.

"Don't even think of entering our shop without visiting a bathhouse and bringing a certificate that claims you've no infectious disease, dirty pig."

The ones who taunted him were also inspected, and Roy found out that they were both Carl's wives and partners in crime that involved targeting and bullying the citizens.

They were falsely claiming Roy smelled; even deaf and blind could tell that. Although he didn't smell like a flower, he also didn't have the offensive smell of a sweaty athlete. They were just silly grownups looking for an excuse to be an ass to Roy. But they have made one big mistake. Roy wasn't a person they could bully.

He looked at them with a bewildered expression and spoke loudly and clearly.

"Do you three have rabies?"

The onlookers blinked, wondering what he was up to.

"No!"

"We don't."

Carl also furiously declined his accusation. "No?! Why do you ask?"

Roy smiled and, cleaning his ear with his pinkie, said, "Because you're chewing out my ears just like a rabid dog barking at innocent pedestrians."

With his sharp tongue, Roy torched them so hard that they felt burned.

"Pfft!" The eavesdroppers failed to hold it in and laughed like they were on crack.

"Silence! Don't you people dare laugh at us."

The target of these jeering waves, the trio, couldn't keep up their calm facade, and their expression contorted.

"You're like a newborn calf that hasn't learned to fear a tiger! How dare you make fun of me? You're asking for a beating." No more words were exchanged.

Carl threw out an Aura-infused punch, which wasn't strong but sharp enough to produce the noise of air getting cut, although barely audible, and came at Roy like a knife chopping downwards.

From the get-go, Carl was using his family's offensive Aura Arts.

If it were any other person, forget about dodging, it would be lucky if they lived to tell the tale.

Roy, however, was no ordinary man.

"Whoosh!"

As the opponent's knife-like palm came down at him, Roy stood still but lifted his left hand like he was going to catch a ball.

"Bam!"

Suddenly, it sounded like a piece of wood had crashed on a solid rock after falling down a waterfall.

Silence fell again.

"If you have the ability to make fun of others, learn to be patient when you're made fun of."

Roy's words of wisdom echoed out next in the ears of the shocked crowd and Carl.

'Huh?'

Not only Carl's but also the eyes of everyone widened to the size of saucers as Gray's family Wind-Weaving Sword-like Hand was grabbed and forced to a stop by a casual grab.

"How could this even be possible?" Bernice blurted out, looking not at all lady-like.

Grandpa Blake rubbed his beard while looking at Roy in deep interest and chuckled, "Didn't I tell you, he can tear beasts with his bare hands. His physique is no less than a low-level boss monster. An attack of that level, if performed by a clown like Carl, would not tear his skin, no matter what."

Carl was equally shocked. He couldn't make head or tail of this situation. "How can you stop my Sword-like Palm so causally?"

"… I'm stronger than you?" Roy stated with the straightest face ever made.

Carl tried to free his hand, but even when he used all his strength, he couldn't yank it out of Roy's vicious grip, which made him feel as if it was not a meaty hand but iron clamps that were binding it. But he was not one to give up and admit another as his superior in a single exchange. Undoubtedly, he whipped out with his right leg, aiming the sharp end of his metallic boot toward Roy's ribs.

What he didn't expect was that Roy's Agility stat was two times higher than his, and he was also far more intelligent, meaning Roy saw it coming and was fast enough to block it by hitting it with a downward chop and then retaliate by landing a solid slap on Carl's face.

"Pa!"

Everyone was shocked. They couldn't believe that Carl Gray, who had always been a pain in the ass for people like them, was humiliated by an unknown boy. To them, Roy was just a stranger.

The Count's third son had never attended any festival, and this world was one without the internet, and the drawings of him were little to none; because of all these reasons, what he looked like was a mystery to the people.

They knew him as an incapable fatty who recently was rumored to have become a Level 5 Trainee, absolutely nothing like this boy who slapped a Level 10 dead straight on the face.

Carl rubbed his face, stunned to the bone, for he had never been slapped before.