“When this potential is filled, it can actually directly increase the attributes of the previous four items?” George Miller looked at the final 25% potential in confusion, finding it a bit unbelievable. “Isn’t this just like playing a game? You can freely change your own attributes in real life.”

He was well aware that in this era where technology was backward and wars were still fought with a combination of cold and hot weapons, if his superpower could really increase his attributes, then his future would be beyond what ordinary people could imagine.

“But, could it be an illusion…” George Miller laughed at himself. “Maybe I’ve just gone crazy wanting superpowers.”

The car suddenly stopped.

“We’re here, we’re here, everyone get off.” The driver, a man with a full beard, turned around and shouted loudly.

The students on the bus began to get off one after another. Grace Carter nudged George Miller as a reminder, then picked up her backpack and books and got off first.

At the edge of a vast circular emerald-green lawn, several black buses were parked steadily by the grass, and students from Saint Oriole Academy were continuously getting off. The students’ uniforms were white on top and black on the bottom.

At the end of the lawn stood a large cluster of domed buildings with white bases and dark yellow patterns. In the center was a square dome, flanked by more than a dozen tower-like high-rise buildings. In the distance behind, more buildings of similar style could be vaguely seen. Many students were coming and going, and among them were some teachers dressed in pure black uniforms.

At the edge of the lawn, the last to get off one of the black buses was a sickly-looking, thin boy with purple hair and red eyes, looking listless.

George Miller roughly sized up the academy’s facilities and scale, then looked back. A circle of tall white iron railings completely enclosed the campus. The buses had entered through a white iron arched gate, and now, after unloading the students, they were slowly driving out one by one.

“It’s pretty much the same as schools on Earth.” George Miller walked toward the buildings on the lawn with the other students.

“George Miller is enrolled in Class 2, Grade 1, in the First Campus…” Following his memory, George Miller quickly followed the crowd to the left side of the vast campus, paused in front of a trapezoidal building, then strode up the stone steps.

The second classroom on the second floor had a brass nameplate for Class 2, Grade 1.

George Miller entered the room with two other boys, then skillfully walked to the seat by the window at the back and sat down, stuffing his backpack into the desk. He then focused on studying the five attribute symbols at the bottom of his field of vision. After all, he had only been in the class for one semester, and with his introverted personality, he didn’t really have any friends.

The first class was math, taught by a cold-faced middle-aged woman. The content was only at elementary school level, so George Miller only listened for a few minutes before doing his own thing. Next was national language, which taught the country’s language and some classic literary works, but George Miller couldn’t be bothered to listen.

The third class was etiquette. While constantly testing the connection between his physical state and his attributes, George Miller suddenly felt the potential percentage in his field of vision flicker, as if it had trembled for a moment.

He was startled, quickly looked around, but found nothing, then looked up at the podium.

On the podium, the etiquette teacher was holding an open rosewood box containing various gemstones, crystals, and other ornaments. “Personal grooming is also a reflection of how much respect you have for others, and jewelry is a very important part of one’s appearance. Last class, we talked about gold and silver accessories. This class, we’ll continue with gemstone jewelry and how to match and wear them.”

The etiquette teacher was a bespectacled man with a neat, elegant mustache, standing with perfect posture and a naturally graceful air. “Now, let’s distribute these jewels. Everyone, pass them around and take a look. Nobility is not just about material wealth; the most important thing is inner nobility. Self-discipline, elegance, self-respect, responsibility, courage, and so on, combined with a good appearance and bearing—only when all these are present can one truly be called noble. If you only squander money and have material advantages, you’re just a nouveau riche.”

George Miller sat at the back, watching as the box was passed down the rows. Before he could react, the faint red attribute at the bottom of his vision suddenly began to change. The last potential started to slowly increase, rising from 25% to 26%, like a second hand jumping forward.

George Miller stared wide-eyed as the box was passed down by his classmates. Most students just glanced at it casually, clearly used to this kind of jewelry and not finding it special. Only a few students looked excited when they got the box—these were mostly those from less well-off families.

It took more than ten minutes before the rosewood box finally reached the student in front of George Miller.

The boy in front was a slightly chubby student with glasses. He rummaged through the box, then turned and handed it to George Miller. “Here.”

“Thank you.” George Miller carefully took the box. As soon as he touched it, he felt a tingling sensation, and a cool energy from the box slowly flowed into his body through his fingers, like the cold air from a refrigerator, continuous and unending.