As I slowly regained consciousness, I heard a voice in my head—a voice I was strangely glad to hear.
"Welcome back~ You've got shitty luck, huh? Well, good thing I swooped in and saved your tiny brain from deep-frying. You're welcome."
"Urgh… whatever… my head hurts like crazy," I groaned, still too drained to open my eyes amidst the excruciating pain hammering through my skull.
"Am I going to experience this every time I get a memory transfer?" I asked, trying to ignore the pounding in my head.
"No, silly. This was a one-time thing. Though I must say… you claim to read lots of fantasy novels, yet you don't even know the basics of stuff like this?"
My eyebrow twitched. "It's not my fault! This is clearly out of my scope of knowledge! You should have told me from the start!"
"And risk you losing your rewards? Ha! No way. Besides, you're alive, aren't you? You should be thankful instead of whining all day long."
"I… I'm sorry for lashing out. It's just… haaa… this is all too much," I whispered. "I'm sorry for not showing gratitude, Laura. You saved my life, and I'm grateful."
"Hmph. I guess it's fine if you put it like that. But you owe me big time!" sheresponded, voice happy despite her attempt to hide it.
"Yes, yes, I do." I chuckled softly and opened my system interface to check my rewards.
---
[SYSTEM INTERFACE]
Name: Clark Thompson
Age: 22
Level: 4 (Congrats to the MC for breaking through 3 levels!!!)
Skills:
[Rank Nullification Lv.3]
[Magic Fingers Lv.3]
[Liar Lv.3]
[Masseuse Lv.4 (NEW!)]
[Calculative Lv.3 (NEW!)]
Traits: Boy Toy, BDSM Partner, Slow Learner, Soft-Spoken, Pushover, Tenacious Mind, Expert Masseuse, Cool-Headed
Missions Completed: 3/??
Rank: F-
Rate of Improvement: 1 level per 3 years, 11 months (improvable)
Remark: You're not some degenerate. I'm impressed!
---
As I scanned the screen, I was pleasantly surprised to see I'd gone up three levels, with some of my skills upgraded and even brand new ones added.
"Woah… this is awesome!" I shouted internally to Laura, who clearly basked in my praise.
"Yes, yes. Now you see why your onii-chan didn't tell you about the basics, she said proudly."
I was so caught up in the rewards that I forgot Miriam was still around and could've easily done something dangerous while I was "out."
"I can check this later," I muttered, forcing my eyes open with a groan.
"Urgh… what… what happened?" My [Liar] skill must've gotten an upgrade, because my delivery sounded flawless.
"C-Clark? Clark! You're awake! Oh, I was so worried!" Miriam's tear-streaked face filled my vision—her ruined makeup, her messy hair, her guilt written all over her expression.
'Why?' I thought numbly.
'Why cry for someone she barely knows? She could replace me with another boy toy easily… so why?'
In my past life, I grew up alone. Orphaned at a young age, there was no one who'd truly miss me if I died. Maybe my clients would notice—but that's what my assistants were there for. My so-called "friends"? Please. They'd probably be happy to have one less person to compare themselves to during double dates.
And yet, as I looked at the trembling woman above me, mumbling incoherent apologies through tears, I realized… maybe this world wasn't so bad after all.
"I-I was so scared. I thought I'd killed you with my foolishness. Thank goodness you're alive."
Elf healers surrounded me, staring like I was some anomaly. Their faces practically screamed: 'He was obviously dead minutes ago!'
"M-Miss Miriam, we'll be taking our leave now," one of the male healers stammered.
"Sure, whatever," Miriam dismissed them coldly.
I turned my gaze back to her. "Y-you were crying…" My hoarse voice cracked as I reached up to wipe her tears.
Sniff. Sniff.
"I… was scared." Her eyes shimmered with the vulnerability of a lost rabbit.
"Scared that I might lose you."
"Lose me?" I muttered, confused. "You could always just buy another boy toy."
"No!" she snapped, placing a trembling hand over my mouth. "You're not allowed to call yourself that."
'Why is she being so affectionate?' I frowned.
"You're so smart, yet so dumb", Laura finally spoke up, voice weary. "She's been lonely for a long time. No one talks to her unless she's giving orders. Then you came along. You talked to her—even if for selfish reasons. You massaged her without strings attached. You relieved her boredom. Honestly… I could say you saved her"
'Saved her? Me?' I couldn't wrap my head around it.
"Mmmh, calhhhm down," I muffled through Miriam's hand. "Calm down, Miriam. I'm fine now, aren't I?"
Her hand fell away, and I smiled faintly. "And… I appreciate you caring for me. I really do."
"…It's my fault you fainted, so… don't worry about it." She looked away, embarrassed.
"Could you excuse me? I need to rest."
"Oh, sure. I'll come back in the morning to check on you, okay?" she said with a longing glance.
"Thanks."
---
Silence.
Absolute silence.
The modest room—its gold-rimmed table stacked with books, the simple bed beneath me—felt suffocatingly quiet as I tried to sort through my messy thoughts.
"Miriam's… not what I expected her to be," I muttered, pulling up her profile.
---
[Character File]
Name: Miriam Rothschild
Age: 92
Rank: C-
Skills: [Soul Severance Lv.1], [Siren's Call Lv.3], [Gravity Manipulation Lv.5], [Iron Fist Lv.3]
Traits: Yandere Tendencies, Can Go to Any Lengths for Loved Ones, Hates Loneliness, Loves Juggling Knives
Remark: If she falls in love with you, expect to live in her basement for the rest of your life >∆<
---
I groaned. "So she's a yandere…"
"WHY THE HELL DID I GET A YANDERE ON THE FIRST DAY?!" My scream shook the room.
Taking a deep breath, I called quietly, "Laura. Could you come out, please?"
Whoosh. Whoosh.
Laura appeared without resistance, her usual smirk replaced by a rare silence as she watched me.
"Why did you push me toward that hidden reward? You could've just told me what I needed and moved on. Why?"
Minutes passed in silence. Then I looked up and froze.
Laura wasn't the cheeky, mischievous guardian I'd come to expect. For a moment, I saw a different side of her: serious, raw, her emotions straining against the smile she usually wore.
But it vanished as quickly as it appeared.
I did it because you had the drive.
"The… drive?" I tilted my head.
"Haaa… this is going to be a long night. Jeez, why do you have to be so damn perceptive?"
The more I looked at her, the more I realized—Laura wasn't my "plot armor," not some fairy godmother who'd pull me out of impossible situations.
What I saw in that fleeting moment… was a lonely, hurt, and frustrated girl.