It was quiet at night.
Most of the household slept. Only a handful of workers moved about. Orien remained alone in his room, illuminated by a desk lamp.
He had removed his shirt. His body was weak. His arms were thinner than he used to be. His legs as well.
"This body is ill," he grumbled.
He rubbed his ribs. They were soft to the touch. His breathing was slow, but unstable. He didn't cough, but something wasn't right. His muscles were flaccid.
He took some paper and a pen and sat down to write.
"Need to exercise. Need to eat healthy. Sleep better."
He gazed at the piece of paper for a long time.
"I really am inside the game…"
He had played this game a lot. But now, it felt too real. The pain, the cold floor, the sound of his own breath—everything was real.
He sighed and stood up. His stomach growled.
"I'll eat something first," he said.
He opened the door and stepped into the hallway. Just as he turned the corner, he bumped into someone.
A maid.
She looked up at him quickly and bowed her head.
"I'm sorry, Master."
Orien blinked. Then he bowed his head a little too.
"No, I'm sorry."
The maid froze.
She didn't say anything. She just stared at him.
Orien noticed her eyes. Wide and shocked. Like she had seen a ghost.
"…I'll be going to the kitchen," he said.
She stepped aside quickly. Still silent. Still staring.
Orien walked on. He didn't look back.
The kitchen was empty. Clean and quiet.
He opened a cabinet and discovered some vegetables. They seemed fresh enough—carrots, some greens, and a potato.
He peeled them slowly and started chopping.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her again. The same maid. She was in the hallway, just standing there.
He glanced at her.
"You can sleep now. Don't worry about me."
She blinked. Then nodded and went away without saying a word.
She didn't say anything, but her face told it all.
She was baffled.
The old Orien must have done something terrible to her.
Now, he was being. normal.
Perhaps even nice.
He finished preparing. Just a humble vegetable stir. Light oil, salt. It wasn't a feast, but it was warm and it smelled nice.
He sat down and ate deliberately.
It was like something within him was stirring. His body already felt a little better.
[System: Immunity System +2]
He paused from chewing.
"…That worked?"
He smiled.
"So healthy food works here too. Good."
He ate his food, scraped the plate clean, and headed back to his room.
Upon entering, he sat on the bed and powered on his system.
A blue screen flashed before his eyes.
Name: Orien Draeven
Class: None
Level: 1
Health: 65/100
Mana: 10/10
Status: Weak
Condition: Recovering
Skills: None
He furrowed his brow.
"Orien Draven…"
The name didn't ring a bell.
He didn't recall playing as Orien Draeven in the game.
"…Was I just a background character?"
It made sense.
The room was large, but not overly decorative. The house was like something belonging to a noble, but not the leading one. He had no exceptional talent. No authority.
He wasn't a hero.
Just someone… forgotten.
He closed the screen and settled back.
"I'll start training tomorrow," he whispered. "Step by step."
Maid's thoughts, in the hallway…
He apologized?
The maid hovered close to the door, her hand on her chest.
Her hands were trembling.
She had waited on this man for two years. Never had he uttered the word sorry.
Not when he spilled wine on the tablecloth. Not when he shouted at her. Not even when he punched a boy in the garden for making noise.
But tonight… he lowered his head.
He was worn out. Not furious. Not intoxicated. Simply tired… and serene.
She did not know what to experience.
Fear? Confusion? Relief?
She came back and walked into her room, her heart racing.
What changed?