Reincarnated as the Only Male in an All-Girls Magic Academy!-Chapter 17: You’re Crazy!

The door clicked softly behind Ren as he entered his dorm room, his thoughts already drifting into silent analysis.

His fingers loosened from the handle with automatic precision, but his mind was two steps ahead, already visualizing the steps required for his mental sea evolution tonight.

Then he saw Lia. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, the fabric of her uniform slightly rumpled, her palms facing upward in the classic lotus meditation posture.

Her eyes had been closed—calm, serene—but at the sound of his entrance, they fluttered open.

A flicker of embarrassment passed through her irises before a sudden jolt of awkwardness spread across her face like spilled ink.

She looked away instantly, cheeks coloring, gaze bouncing between the floor and the window like she was suddenly unsure where her body was meant to exist.

Ren blinked.

"Hi," he said simply.

That was it. No judgment. No surprise. If anything, a quiet acceptance settled across his features.

He had work to do.

He moved past her, silent as a shadow, and pulled open the closet. Neatly folded clothes lined the shelves like data files in a well-organized server.

He selected a set of soft, dark-blue nightwear made from some kind of cooling fabric. Perfect for post-shower comfort.

He turned to the bathroom and entered without a word. The door clicked shut behind him, followed by the gentle sound of the lock sliding into place.

Although it was a bit weird doing all this with a beautiful girl a few meters away sneaking glances at him, he didn't show it.

Inside, steam was unnecessary. He twisted the knob toward cold.

The water hit his skin with a bite, but he welcomed it. Goosebumps shivered down his arms, and the chill helped clear the last emotional static from the day's chaos.

He tilted his head under the stream and allowed the sensation to wash over him. His mind, however, was not resting.

'The structure of the mental sea responds most to conditions of purity; calm, clarity, intent,' he thought.

Cold water to wake the mind. Food to fuel it. Then meditation and forceful induction of unconsciousness to enter the evolution forge...

Yes. That sequence should suffice.

Ten minutes later, he stepped out. Towel draped over one shoulder, nightwear clinging loosely to his still-damp frame, he felt better. Not physically. Mentally. He was focused. Precise.

And most importantly; ready.

His bed creaked softly as he sat down. From under it, he pulled out a small heat-sealed box.

The aroma hit him immediately—spiced meat, slightly charred edges, dripping with juice. It had been freshly made not more than two hours ago.

A luxury in this place. He tore it open and bit in with calm efficiency. His hand reached out, fingers brushing the badge pinned to his chest.

A pulse of light and the digital interface bloomed before his eyes, projected in soft orange glow.

He navigated with practiced ease to the Achievement Tab and then slid across to the Conversion Panel.

A section highlighted the minimum Orientation Points required for entry into the upcoming classes.

Basic Class: 1000 OP

Elite Class: 2500 OP

Supreme Class: 5000 OP

No mention of the Imperial Class.

His eyes narrowed.

So even among elites, there's a ceiling. Or maybe a hidden door.

But he wasn't frustrated. He was already recalibrating.

Supreme Class is still the apex for now. 5000 OP in four weeks. That's the target. Which means...

He opened a side window, revealing the full breakdown of the conversion system again.

⸻

Conversion Tiers (Post-Streak Bank):

• 0 - 100 AP: 1:1

• 101 - 250 AP: 2:1

• 251 - 500 AP: 3:1

• 501 - 1000 AP: 4:1

• 1001+ AP: 5:1

Limit: 2 conversions/week, total of 8 conversions.

⸻

Ren rubbed his thumb against his lower lip.

The system was skewed toward consistent activity. Prospectives were punished for hoarding too much.

But if they convert too early, they don't gain enough momentum bonuses or variety boosts.

Ren stared at the screen and muttered quietly, "The system wants effort, not raw farming. Understood."

Then, his eyes sharpened.

With 8 conversion chances, if I convert 100 AP each time from the streak bank at 1:1, that's 800 OP already.

There was also a high chance there would be some extracurricular activities or tests coming up in the following weeks that would serve as opportunities to farm more OP as well.

He simply needed to be ready and strong enough to take advantage of them.

His lips curled slightly. Not quite a smile. But close.

He closed the panel.

"No point converting today then," he muttered. "Still haven't triggered the variety bonus. Let it build. Tomorrow will be more efficient."

His eyes shifted toward the now-silent Lia, who had turned away and was pretending to be in deep meditation.

Although he would like to ask about the tricks behind the fireball she had conjured the night before, he decided to give her some time to gradually get used to his presence.

When she got more comfortable with him, he would easily find that out.

Besides, logic dictated that it was most likely a magical item she had on that had produced that effect.

With that out of the way for now, it was time for the most important activity of the day; Evolution!

He needed to return to the Evolution Forge this night to initiate the evolution of his mental sea. But to do that, he needed to get unconscious first!

But his available methods weren't actually viewer friendly...

Ren sat up with a sigh and paced across the smooth floor barefoot. The moonlight filtering in through the window lit up his features: calm, analytical, ever so slightly annoyed.

Then he moved toward the closet, pulled out two belts, and tied them tightly around his forearms.

Things were about to get ugly...

Next, he grabbed the chamber pot's lid, tested its weight, nodded, and dropped to the floor in a handstand.

Lia finally cracked and turned her head. Her tone was flat.

"Are... you training?"

"No," Ren replied simply, still upside-down. "Don't say anything."

"...What?"

"I said don't say anything." He began counting down from ten, blood rushing to his head. "And if you do, don't tell anyone else."

That was all she got. He tipped further forward on purpose, increasing pressure in his skull.

He was hoping a temporary disruption to his blood flow would do the trick. Enough to force unconsciousness.

He'd read somewhere in a medical journal that mild inversion plus controlled oxygen restriction could induce temporary unconsciousness.

If he endured enough—

He wobbled. The belt slipped.

BANG!

Ren hit the ground face-first with a dull thud, limbs twitching.

Silence.

Lia stood up slowly, not knowing whether to gasp, clap, or run out of the room to fetch help.

But then Ren rolled over and calmly stared at the ceiling. Again.

"Still awake," he said like he was checking off a failed hypothesis.

"You just fell on your face," Lia whispered. "And you're... fine?"

Ren sat up like a haunted puppet, utterly unfazed. "Too much neck support. It disrupted the blood pressure differential. I'll try the closet next."

"What?!"

But he was already opening the closet door and wedging himself inside, one leg over a shelf and his head between two pairs of folded pants.

"I've angled myself to simulate sudden vertical drop. Brain's vestibular system might think I'm falling in a dream. Could trigger loss of consciousness."

He then flopped limp like a mannequin.

One minute passed.

Two minutes.

Lia quietly shuffled to the closet and opened the door.

Ren stared at her, blinking.

"Closet was too shallow," he said, crawling out. "I need velocity. Controlled trauma might work."

"Absolutely not!" Lia was suddenly standing, arms out like a barrier. "Controlled trauma? You are not knocking yourself out like some deranged warrior!"

"It's fine. I calculated it. The wooden bed frame is only 0.8 meters high. If I run into it at a controlled speed—say, 4 meters per second—I'll likely achieve momentary unconsciousness with minimal skull damage."

He didn't say more. Instead, he stood, grabbed a blanket from the bed, and folded it into a neat square.

Lia couldn't understand, but he desperately needed to go back to the Evolution Forge!

There was so much he needed to achieve there and all he needed to do was go unconscious!

Ren narrowed his eyes in determination...

Then he looked at the wooden frame of the bed...

And started backing up across the room.

"No. No no no no—what are you doing?" Lia's voice had a tinge of alarm now.

"Don't say anything," Ren said again, utterly serene.

He sprinted across the room.

Lia let out a shocked yelp.

Ren leapt and slammed head-first into the blanket-cushioned corner of the bedframe. He bounced off it like a stubborn goat, landing on his back with a low grunt.

He lay still.

One minute passed.

Lia tiptoed over and peeked down at him.

He blinked at her.

"Still conscious," he murmured again.

"What are you trying to do?" she hissed, hugging her arms.

"I said not to say anything," he replied.

"You're headbutting furniture!"

Ren sat up, unbothered. "Yes. Correct. And it's clearly not working!"

"You're CRAZY!"