Greg had barely closed his eyes for a few seconds when the three boys exchanged knowing looks, then rose together and walked toward his corner.
Soon, they stood before Greg in a loose semicircle, trapping him and his chair in the corner with an unspoken air of intimidation.
The boy with short brown hair spoke first. "Hey, Greg. Now that you've been kicked out of your family, you're just a commoner, right? In that case, shouldn't you get up and properly greet us nobles?"
Another, slightly taller boy immediately chimed in:
"Exactly. Besides, we heard... your level is still stuck at a pathetic Level 10 or so? With that little strength, you're going to have a hard time getting by at the Academy."
He leaned a little closer and lowered his voice, though he made sure everyone nearby could still hear:
"How about this? Since you're new to the Student Council and don't know anything, just do as we say from now on and take care of whatever we tell you to. Maybe... when we're in a good mood, we'll give you a few pointers and teach you how to survive at the Academy. What do you say? Opportunities like this don't come along often for someone like you."
The third boy, a comparatively burly redhead, grinned and said:
"Oh, right, and that incident in the Academy news. Can you tell us how you managed to luck into that victory? Don't worry, we definitely won't tell anyone else and embarrass you. Hahaha."
Their remarks came one after another, perfectly coordinated and dripping with noble contempt for commoners.
Fuck, I really ought to hand my villain role over to you guys.
Those lines, that acting, that determination to get yourselves killed... you're practically a textbook example of asking for a beating.