Smile! Tomorrow will be worse .5

Aiken awoke with his head throbbing as if it were splitting in two. He found himself within a familiar room, one that he had become well-acquainted with due to his nights spent there. No, this wasn't his own bedroom; he was still trapped within the confines of the game. The room belonged to the inn where he had encountered Mimic, the incessant chatterbox.

As he attempted to rise, his legs betrayed him, and a feeling of shock coursed through his body. Glancing at his wrist, he discovered his health bar precariously low at a mere 8%. It was a razor-thin line between life and death. Panic rising, he looked around the room in search of someone. However, a sudden realization struck him, a memory of a crucial event from the previous night that he had momentarily forgotten.

The creaking of the door broke his train of thought, and his attention snapped to the figure that had entered. "At last, you're awake," Aiken clutched the edge of the bed for support as he struggled to stand. Despite his desire to attack the person before him, he was physically incapable. "What happened?" he demanded, his voice edged with frustration.

Sco handed Aiken a glass of water, a gesture meant to ease his discomfort and quell any aggression. "Myrpho has taken our fairies," Sco stated bluntly, cutting to the heart of the matter. Aiken's irritation flared anew as he pointed at his dwindling health bar. "Tsk, I already knew that! What I'm asking is this," he gestured pointedly at the health indicator, "did you stab me while I was unconscious?"

"Whoa, hold your horses! I'm not a cheater like you," Aico retorted, his tone playful yet firm. He handed Aiken a mirror and placed the cup on the table beside the bed. Aiken's shock was evident as he gazed at his reflection. "W-what the..." he stammered, clearly taken aback by the sight that greeted him.

Aico proceeded to explain the transformation that had taken place. "After Myrpho made off with our fairies, you gradually reverted to being, well, a normal villager. Your hair returned to black, and your heterochromia—particularly your eyes—reverted to their original state. More importantly, your abilities have changed as well. They're now similar to mine; you can't use magic until we track down Myrpho's hideout."

The mention of Myrpho brought back memories. He had been ranked 13 before his defeat at the hands of Cziell, subsequently falling to the top 15. He had suffered an accident, possibly due to the repercussions of the game, and had become part of "the missing 15." In real life, Myrpho owned a gym and was fixated on his obsession with muscles, which ultimately led to his demise through overexertion. Despite his tragic end, he had been granted a second chance within Letheon, the same game that had caused his death but was now keeping him alive. It was an opportunity he wasn't about to let slip away.

"I can't use magic?" Aiken's hand instinctively touched his right eye, where faint remnants of the peculiar runes from the Magic Integration remained as scars. "Don't state the obvious," Aico replied, handing something to Aiken. "Villagers can't be healed through magic, so I bought a potion to help restore your lost health." Aiken accepted the potion without hesitation and quickly consumed it, not wasting a single drop.

"For now, you need to rest and regain your strength. We'll need it later," Sco announced, rising from his seat and leaving Aiken momentarily speechless after the potion.

Determined to uncover the truth, Aiken attempted to stand, carefully placing his feet on the cold floor. He grasped the sturdy table next to the bed, which held the mirror, cup, and potion bottle. Just as he was about to take his first step, a sudden voice interrupted his movements. "What are you doing?" Startled, Aiken released his grip on the table, turning his gaze towards the window on the opposite side of the room. The gusty wind made it difficult to discern the person sitting by the window, creating only a blurry silhouette.

As Aiken lost his balance and stumbled, he was caught by the stranger and helped back onto the bed. "Who are you?" Aiken questioned, his skepticism evident. The young man before him wore light armor and carried a sword on his back. "Eh? I'm Mimic," the stranger responded, his sincerity apparent and eventually convincing Aiken of his identity.

Mimic introduced himself as his namesake, explaining his unique ability of Mimicry – the power to mimic someone's appearance, behavior, and speech patterns. Aiken learned that Mimic could maintain this mimicry for up to 8 hours, but once used, it couldn't be utilized again until the time had elapsed. Despite Mimic's skill, no one truly knew his true identity, as he was always concealed behind various facades.

"Sco told me to keep an eye on you," Mimic added, his tone carrying a hint of annoyance. Aiken couldn't help but note the familiarity between Mimic and Sco, realizing that the two of them seemed to understand each other quite well. It was in stark contrast to how the Mio girl treated Sco, seemingly regarding him with a sense of authority or reverence.

As Aiken remained in bed for another 7 hours – a new record for his resting time – he endured Mimic's seemingly endless stream of pointless stories, growing increasingly bored. However, Aiken's attention was recaptured when Mimic suddenly remembered something and produced a piece of paper, offering it to Aiken, who promptly snatched it from his hand. Mimic's interruption had successfully piqued his curiosity.

"After your rest, come to the center of the town. I'll let you handle all the heavy works. This is a villager's duty! Let's lessen your prince-like attitude!"

Love and Care <3 <3,

Sco

Aiken crumbled the paper with strength, his frustration and determination evident in his actions. He then threw the crumpled paper through the window, venting his emotions. Mimic was standing nearby, an amused smile playing on his lips as he observed Cziell's display of emotion.

Aiken noticed Mimic's mocking expression and couldn't contain his irritation any longer. With a burst of anger, he grabbed a nearby pillow and swung it with all his might, hitting Mimic squarely in the face. The force of the blow sent Mimic crashing into the wall, his back colliding with the hard surface. Mimic winced, feeling the impact of Aiken's anger as he held his nose, which had taken the brunt of the attack.

"Like hell I would!!" Aiken shouted, his voice filled with defiance and resolve. He was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, even if it meant taking on the heavy responsibilities of a villager. Mimic rubbed his sore nose, his grin unfazed.

"Well, it looks like you're fired up now. Let's get going then, hero," Mimic quipped, pushing himself off the wall and leading the way out of the inn. Aiken followed, his determination burning brighter than ever.