Next Day....
I stirred awake to the sight of a ceiling I recognized.
It wasn't the one from my old apartment—far from it. No cheap plaster, no water stains in the corners. Just smooth stone, lit by the faint morning light leaking through wooden shutters.
This was the room I'd been assigned when I got here. Stark. Modest. A little cold, honestly.
I blinked a few times, trying to shake off the haze. My body ached all over—soreness blooming across my shoulders and ribs. The duel with Aleck—no, Alice—came rushing back.
"…Seriously," I muttered, dragging a hand down my face. "Alice Draken. That Alice Draken. Pretending to be a guy named Aleck? I can't believe it."
In the game, she never did anything like that. Not in any route I played. She was cold, proud, and tragic. But never the type to fake her identity and duel someone in a courtyard like some knight.
Then again… this world wasn't a game anymore.
I let out a slow breath and stared up at the ceiling.
What the hell was going on?
My eyes drifted to the table in the corner of the room. My equipment was piled there, still damp from melting snow. My sword leaned against the wall beside it, its edge nicked from the fight.
I sat up slowly, wincing as a sharp pain flared in my side.
KNOCK—!
A sudden knock rang out from the door.
And before I could even say a word, the door creaked open on its own.
I froze.
There, standing in the doorway, was Alice Draken.
The Alice Draken—villainess of Echoes of the Crimson Throne. A tragic, sharp-tongued, brilliantly written character. Also, my favorite.
And currently, the person I had accidentally insulted to her face.
My heartbeat jumped.
"So," she said, stepping into the room, arms folded and eyes sharp, "you're awake."
I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the protest of my ribs, and gave a polite bow.
"Yes, My Lady."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "What happened to all that attitude from before? Gone already?"
Ah. Right. That.
She was talking about when I'd mocked Aleck during our duel.
You know. Aleck—who turned out to be Alice Draken in disguise.
So, in hindsight… I hadn't just been cocky. I'd mocked her. To her face. While she was wearing armor. With a sword.
Still—! It wasn't like I started it!
She'd called me a bug in the middle of the fight!
If I'd known Aleck was Alice? I would've shut my mouth and taken the L like a humble NPC.
Really, I would've.
I forced a smile, bringing a hand to my chest like some overly dramatic nobleman.
"Ah, My Lady," I said, voice dripping with theatrical regret. "Please, find it in your gentle and forgiving heart to pardon this humble attendant of yours for his past insolence."
Her brow twitched.
I could feel the judgment radiating off her.
She stepped closer, boots clicking against the stone floor, and gave me a look that could freeze lava.
"You're not funny," she said flatly.
I raised both hands slightly in surrender, trying to salvage the situation.
"I'm sorry, My Lady. Truly. I wasn't trying to be funny… I was actually asking for your forgiveness."
Her eyes narrowed even more, and for a moment, I genuinely thought that was it for me.
Maybe she'd draw her sword.
Maybe she'd punch me again.
But then…
"Tsk. Forget it."
I blinked. Relief washed over me like a wave.
Phew. Dodged a sword there—literally.
Note to self: watch my words unless I want to get impaled by my favorite character.
"Thank you, My Lady! For showing mercy to this humble servant—"
"Just. Stop."
Her voice was cold—like, snow-in-your-bones cold.
A shiver ran down my spine. That wasn't just irritation. That was a warning. A final one.
Message received.
Loud and clear.
I shut my mouth on instinct and stood up straight, posture perfect, hands at my sides like a soldier waiting for orders.
No more talking.
Not unless she asked.
Because if there's one thing I've learned since waking up in this game-turned-reality, it's this:
Survival?
It's all about reading the room.
And right now, the room screamed: Shut up.
Alice didn't say anything right away.
She just stood there, arms crossed, eyes scanning me like I was some strange beast she'd accidentally let live.
Not that I blamed her.
If I were in her shoes, I'd probably punch me too.
Finally, she let out a small sigh. Barely audible.
"You're lucky I wasn't aiming to kill," she muttered.
I swallowed hard.
"Truly fortunate, My Lady," I said carefully, each word picked like stepping stones over a minefield.
Her gaze flicked to me—sharp, unreadable.
"I came to check if you slipped into a coma after draining all your mana," she said, arms still crossed. "If you had… I would've had to ship your unconscious body back to the Barons. That would've been a lot of unnecessary trouble for me."
She said it so casually. Like returning a broken package to the sender.
"But," she added, her voice softening just a fraction, "you're alive. So, that's one less headache."
I blinked, slowly processing her words.
Right. If I'd stayed unconscious, they might've thought I'd died… or worse. The Barons would've come knocking, demanding answers. There were so many consequences I hadn't even thought of. And all of them would've landed squarely on her shoulders.
"Apologies," I said quietly. "For the trouble, I mean."
Alice didn't respond right away.
She just gave me this look—like she was trying to figure out if I was genuinely sorry, or just saying what I thought she wanted to hear.
After a moment, she sighed again.
"Well, For now report to the head butler. He will told you in details what are your duties."
Saying that she turned her head and started to walking towards door.
But I still have one question that I need to ask her.