The silk sheets smelled faintly of sour wine and a waste of space, but the real hangover hit when he opened his eyes to a stranger's bedroom.
His headache and nausea blotted out everything beyond a few feet, but at least he recognised the place wasn't his.
His stomach churned violently—not from any that he drank, because he hadn't touched a drop last night.
In fact, all he'd seen was a game over screen before calmly setting down the controller and storming off to beat the shit out of a random parcel that had been lying around doing absolutely nothing useful.
Nobody gets drunk from hitting parcels. And yet, here he was, miserable and nauseous.
For thirty frustrating minutes, he crawled and fumbled around, desperate for water.
When he finally spotted the mug sitting just beside his bed, relief and annoyance similarly began to wash over him—but the worst of the hangover faded as he gulped it down.
He stared at the mug for a moment, weighing whether it deserved a punch or not.
And after a brief pause, he lowered his fist.
Forty minutes later, feeling somewhat human again, he took in the room properly.
The bedroom was opulent—larger than an average apartment but decorated sparsely.
"Now where the fuck am I?" he shout and began to inspect his surroundings.
"Am I kidnapped? If I am, I sure hope a cutey comes to rescue me." He joked and walked past a large mirror.
At first, he didn't realise something was off, and didn't even bother to look for his reflection.
But suddenly he wanted to walked in front of the mirror again to see if what he saw from his peripheral vision was right.
Stopping on his tracks and without turning, he stepped backward until he reached the mirror.
There, turning his face, he looked at the naked reflection gazing at him—one with white hair tinged with sky blue colour, and harsh scarlet eyes.
Would it be inaccurate to establish that this was not a common appearance for Asians?
At least he hadn't ever seen someone with such appearance before, at least in real life. This includes him.
Setting aside the oily face and blushing cheeks due to alcohol, the appearance of the person in the mirror was something unique.
"So why are you imitating my movements?" he asked, wiggling around and dancing in a goofy manner.
"Haaaa..." he finally exhaled heavily. "This is... one of those things, isn't it? But... this person..."
He accepted it quite easily; after all, who are we kidding? This man has already read through all the slop novelpia have to offer.
'In a predicament such as this one, the Korean protagonist would've already started complaining, wouldn't they?'
After all, the person whose body he possessed was quite a hateable person, even for someone who tries to see the best in everyone.
But he wasn't like those guys who would start complaining about their ugly predicament, the author, the character, God, a random dog, or anything they could possibly think of instead of being thankful they got a second chance at all.
So, even after understanding his situation, his mind was still at ease and didn't bother to react.
'Because a man getting jealous or panicked is the ugliest... Or kissing another dude... I don't know...'
He then looked at the mirror once more.
"It is a truth universally acknowledged among readers, that a man in possession of a villain must be in wanting to survive—or gals... or both... or something like that... pffft!!!"
Initially, he tried to speak seriously, but by the end, his voice cracked and he couldn't help but laugh out loud.
"God damn! This fucker can actually look cool, would've been great if he wasn't such an ass."
And so, this is the start of a journey, of an odd individual, who was granted a second chance in life.
Author's Note: Hello folks, just testing the water, drop a comment or give me power stone if you wished to see more of this flimsy guy.