In contrast, the room was once again filled with silence.

  A few minutes ago, after Claudia left the room harboring complex emotions, ever since I unintentionally saw the records left behind by Damian, the original owner of this body, the chaos in my mind has grown even stronger.

  ‘What on earth were you trying to accomplish that led you to face death, Damian?’

  I tried to piece together the information I’d gathered so far, but all I could barely grasp was that the fragments were too scattered to uncover the hidden truths—I needed a key to connect them.

  ‘That probably means...’

  I had a strong hunch, almost a certainty, that crucial records and memories were stored within that magical device still sitting there.

  It flashed through my mind like a meteor, illuminating everything in an instant. "Alright... tell me everything you were thinking, without holding back, friend."

  For some reason, Damian—who had struggled to escape a fate similar to mine before I died, or perhaps even worse—felt oddly familiar to me, like a long-time companion bound by shared suffering.

  As I reached out, the cold, weighty texture of the magical device filled my hand.

  If I could just activate it now, all my questions would unravel as easily as a thread! Feeling slightly uplifted, I fumbled with the device.

  "Huh?"

  A faint thrill, tinged with a subtle excitement, washed over me, though I didn’t let it overtake my senses completely.

  "Where the heck did it go?"

  It wasn’t there.

  No switch or anything resembling one could be found anywhere on the device’s surface.

  I stubbornly prodded at a groove carved to improve the grip, wondering if it might be the trigger, but I only confirmed once again that nothing was there.

  ‘Now that I think about it...!’

  It suddenly hit me that Ether Punk never provided a detailed explanation of how to operate these magical devices.

  The game’s developers had to cut corners on anything not immediately visible—human resources, time, development costs, even the food the team ate while working.

  ‘That’s why people raved about the final product’s polish.‘

  For a brief moment, I recalled the thrill of witnessing that scene firsthand—the time spent with others who shared my vision—only for my mind to snap back to this absurd reality.

  ’This is ridiculous...‘

  And it truly was. To think I’d mastered this world’s intricacies, only to trip over something so trivial... Undeterred, I meticulously traced the device’s surface again, wondering if it might have something like a fingerprint scanner.

  To be honest, I was desperate enough to clutch at any straw.

  Thump thump thump

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  It was while I was frantically searching for a way to activate the device that it happened.

  A dilapidated door—so worn that it wouldn’t be surprising if it fell off its hinges and rolled across the floor—began rattling wildly with the sound of heavy footsteps.

  Bang!

  Then, with the rough shove of a mysterious figure who appeared out of nowhere, it was left dangling precariously.

  Whoosh!

  The dust on the floor billowed into the air from the impact, forming a misty haze, as a man stepped into the room.

  "The sun’s been up for hours, and here you are, lazing about like you’ve got all the time in the world, you little country brat."

  His voice was low and gravelly. Even without much effort, it echoed like it was reverberating through a cave, yet it remained perfectly clear.

  Streaks of gray sprouted among his hair, but the black strands still held their ground firmly.

  His skin bore the unmistakable marks of time, making his age obvious, yet his physique—visible even through thick clothing—showed he retained the vigor of his youth, defying mere appearances.

  Thud thud

  This man pushed through the dust and approached slowly.

  For a moment, a complex look flickered in his eyes as he hesitated. Not long after, he opened his mouth to speak.

  His smile was awkward, unpracticed from disuse, but whether it was genuine joy at seeing Damian’s consciousness return, he lifted the corners of his mouth wide, flashing his gums in a broad grin.

  That bright smile revealed a set of perfectly aligned teeth, not a gap in sight. ‘Who is he...? Oh... I get it...’

  His face felt familiar.

  I wanted to avoid acting like I knew him and raising suspicion, but since I wasn’t the original owner, I had no way of knowing for sure.

  That’s when it hit me.

  ‘Gaius...’

  A memory of who he was finally surfaced.

  A bold, hearty man who had helped two fugitives with no real footing, no questions asked.

  As those fragmented memories came back and I was about to speak, Claudia’s voice—tinged with noticeable panic—reached my ears.

  "Gaius, I’ve told you over and over he still needs rest!"

  Sure, he was an unpredictable man, but Claudia hadn’t imagined he’d act this recklessly.

  She’d followed him a step too late.

  "Rest? What kind of girly nonsense is that, huh?"

  Gaius’s words were rough and brash, as befitted him. But I could tell. In his words, his tone, his gaze, and his movements, I instinctively knew it was the kind of joy only someone genuinely relieved to see a trusted friend awaken could show. "I see..."

  Perhaps worried that my still-recovering body couldn’t handle standing for a talk, Gaius grabbed a nearby chair roughly and plopped it down.

  Thud

  Then he straddled it casually.

  Locking eyes with me, he said, "Isn’t that right, you little country brat!" I hadn’t lived a life of luxury myself.

  Even so, my views on how a man should live and act aligned pretty closely with Gaius’s.

  So I gave a small nod.

  ‘Impressive.’

  Seeing Gaius up close like this, he was the epitome of a man’s man—the ideal every guy strives for: bold and rugged, yet with a subtle finesse.

  His hair, a sharply cropped two-block cut, and his features and build made it clear he was a tough, masculine figure.

  Crack

  Every slight movement he made sent loud creaks from his leather gear, practically armor in its own right.

  Scratches and gouges etched into it told me plainly he was no ordinary guy. "Why’s she yelling about what’s not allowed, huh?"

  Gaius said, throwing a sidelong glance at Claudia behind him.

  "Don’t I, who helped wake up that precious kid you dote on, have a say?"

  "..."

  His playful jab was laced with mischief.

  Claudia, her face tense with worry, opened her mouth to snap back but closed it again without a word.

  Judging from Gaius’s outward demeanor, I got the strong sense she stopped because it’d be like talking to a brick wall.

  "I see..."

  Gaius could feel the mood wasn’t picking up from Claudia’s reaction.

  Toning down his antics, he spoke to me in a serious voice.

  "If you can sit up, it doesn’t seem too bad—how do you feel? I won’t buy it unless I hear it straight from you.“

  I wanted to answer his question with how I honestly felt.

  ‘Hold on.’

  I didn’t want to stir up trouble or give myself a headache by saying something dumb.

  Mouth agape, I sank into thought for a second.

  I had to pick my words carefully.

  "Country brat?"

  "Oh, uh, nothing."

  Gaius looked at me, puzzled, as I stood there dazed with my mouth open.

  Unable to stall any longer, I blurted out the best words I could muster.

  "There’s some pain, but it’s bearable."

  "Bearable, you say?"

  "Y-yeah."

  Gaius’s face looked like he’d been whacked over the head with a hammer, stunned.

  Claudia, standing behind him, had the look of someone whose worst fears had just come true.

  I knew it instinctively—my choice of words hadn’t been the best; it was closer to the worst possible outcome.