「Athea, the sword is really here. Right? The sword that the hero had?」

Sitting on his bed in his room, Straf asks the ceiling.

《Yes. The sword is here. The same sword. Stop asking. I will not come down there to help you pull it out, or grant you a blessing for no reason so you can get it out.》

Athea's annoyed voice echoes in his head.

「Hey, I'm not asking you to. I'm just asking you to be my GPS. Or a quest marker.」

Replying to Athea's voice in his head, he crosses his arms.

《What?- Stop barraging me with acronyms and references from your old world! One day I will simply stop looking them up!》

「No you won't, you want to look like you're the smartest. Narcissists like you are deathly afraid of saying I don't know.」

Straf grins as he talks, his arms still crossed.

《Na-!? You utter unbelievable pest! Look who's talking! The very first thing you had done was make yourself attractive, like the vain pile of trash you are!》

Athea shouts back into Straf's mind, her exasperation almost becoming palpable.

「Hey, I just wanted better prices at the merchants. My whole plan was to buy some commodities on the cheap and sell them elsewhere at a high price until I'm basically an oligarch. But then I realized I start just a little more than butt-naked, so that plan went out the window.」

Straf shrugs with his hands, and plops down on his bed with his hands behind his head.

《Why shouldn't you!? Maybe I should have given you a whole kingdom for you to play with, your highness!?》

「You know normal people have families, right? If I started just like anyone else I'd have at least some property, or some coin to my name.」

Straf says, and looks at the ceiling without receiving a reply.

「Yeah, your silence is telling. You basically set me on an ultra-hard start. Let's think about it. Normal people have some knowledge of the world and its history. Normal people have a support network, like a family or friends. Normal people have been trained or educated to provide for themselves-」

《I get it.》

Athea cuts in, interrupting Straf's rant. Her tone of voice has vastly shifted, sounding almost apologetic.

「Yup. So here I am, a clueless foreigner. If I started average with no points to spare and 10s across the board, I'd probably be starving on the streets right now. I killed a troll and got 3 gold coins for it. Trolls apparently need a whole party, so split that across 5 people or so. That's like 6 silver coins per person. The shittiest sword I bought was 8. See the problem?」

He spreads his hands, attempting to frame a picture no one can see with them, as his elbows rest on the soft blanket.

《…So you're saying I should have placed you to be born in a family somewhere?》

「No, I'm actually glad you didn't put me through 10 or 14 years of suffering through the born-again-in-otherworlder-family shit. That would have just been depressing. What I wish you would have done is, just crystallize the family and property I would have gotten into some gold coins. I think a hot-blooded rival little brother is worth 5 or 6 gold coins, no?」

Straf scoffs, grinning slightly as he sets his hands underneath his head again.

《…I'm sorry.》

「Huh?」

Straf shoots up to sitting, and his brows shoot up as well due to Athea's voice suddenly apologizing.

「Did I drift off to sleep, or something? Is this a figment of some sort of deranged dream? Did I actually get stabbed to death because of that fucking turtle? Or did you actually admit you fucked up?」

Straf asks with his eyes narrowed in confusion.

《Tsk. Yes, I admit I may have been too hasty and panicked trying to make you no longer my problem. I'm sorry.》

Athea audibly sighs and she apologizes again.

「Yeah, don't think an apology cuts it. You basically did the equivalent of showing up to my home, shooting my family dead, shooting the dog dead because it has a counter-revolutionary look about it, and then handing me, a child bawling his eyes out that his peaceful life got shattered into millions of pieces, a fucking theme park ticket with a stupid copyrighted mouse on it.」

Straf sighs, and plops back down as places his hands underneath his head.

《You've been acting unhinged ever since. I thought you would calm down eventually, and so I was taking a peek at you to see how you've been doing a few times per day. Are you really going to be like this for the rest of your life? Can't you take things more seriously?》

「More seriously? Do you not think I get the right to be a little unhinged, if I take my whole life seriously and do my best despite all the shit it throws at me, only for it all to be thrown into the trash because of a typo? And the next thing I hear after my untimely and ungraceful death is, would you like a trip to generic fantasy world, as a consolation?」

Straf spreads his arms on his bed, getting more and more irate as he asks.

《I just tried to make it up for you-》

「Make it up for me? By making me a nobody turnip harvester, while some summoned prick is hacking up the demon lord? You gave me a theme park ticket, now I want to have fun on the rides.」

Straf speaks with an increasingly frustrated tone, and his mouth takes a displeased slant to it.

《I just want you to play by the rules of this world-》

「Rules? I played by the rules the last time. What did I get for it? An early death with no accomplishments. I tried to somewhat fit in with the society, the best I could at least. If I'd die from a heart attack, that sucks, but it is what it is. If I'd die because some idiot was texting and driving, that sucks. I bet whoever was responsible for making sense of the incident had a fun time trying to explain it to the higher-ups.」

《…You can still have a normal, fulfilled life here. Can't you just give it another try?》

Athea's voice meekly pleads Straf in his head.

「Nah, I'm done. I'm doing what I want, when I want. At least if a walking cliche kills me, I'll be able to laugh about it. I'll break the theme park. If you don't like that idea, then you should have thrown me into some pit of inexistence.」

The frustration in his tone evaporates. Straf scoffs, and sighs.

「It's hard to take life seriously when you have no past, and your future hinges on a fucking typo.」

As Straf speaks, a downcast tone slowly slips into his voice. He receives silence in return.

「Tsk. What, tuned out of my bitching? Figures.」

Straf clicks his tongue, his mouth slants at the ceiling again.

《…No. I'm listening.》

Athea quietly responds.

「Ah. Thought I was talking to myself for a moment. I guess I can still get more unhinged. I could be talking to the voice in my head while it's giving me the cold shoulder.」

Straf scoffs, looking aside as his slanted mouth turns into a light smirk.

《…By the way, the mouse in your world isn't copyrighted anymore.》

Athea quietly comments, making Straf shoot up to sitting with a shocked expression.

「What the fuck!? Are you serious!?」

With his brows raised high, he asks the ceiling with a massively surprised face.

《Yes. It hasn't been for a while now. I thought I could let you know this little.》

Athea's voice replies, echoing in Straf's head. His initial shock dies down, and his gaze drifts downwards as he's still processing the information.

「Huh. I guess time flies when you're dead, huh?…」

Straf sighs. He then pulls his legs up onto his bed and crosses them, straightening out his back.

「Well, I'm going to cultivate my willpower. I expect you to help me find the sword tomorrow. You might be a dyslexiac, but I hope you're not a disnavigatiac. Is that even a word?」

《No.》

「It is now. Writers are allowed to do that.」

Straf says, as he closes his eyes and focuses on his willpower…

…

「Ahh… Undeath or not, a warm bath is still a warm bath.」

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Dressed in black nightgown, Lily contentedly sighs out as she pushes the doors to her bedroom-converted-throne-room apart. She walks in, holding her tall boots beneath her armpit and her new, undamaged, fancy, fresh dress hanging off her other arm. Her bare feet pat on the deathly-chill stone floor, unfazed.

The little vampire walks up the steps to her bed, and sets her boots down beside it. She hangs her new dress down on a chair, beside an ages old commode.

「There. That'll be ready for tomorrow.」

With her hands on her hips, she nods her freshly-washed still lightly damp twin-tailed head, and turns to her bed. She throws the blanket aside and climbs in, crawling underneath it. She rolls over on her side, and looks at the dress hanging off the chair.

「I hope Straf likes my new dress… Ahh, why does that Redwing woman have to follow him around? I don't want to risk alienating him by telling her to be gone, but she's such a fifth wheel on our carriage…」

Lily sighs. Her slit pupils are partially widened due to the pitch-black darkness of the room. She closes her crimson eyes, and pulls the blanket part-way over her head.

「Maybe I'll think of a way to get rid of her tomorrow… An opportunity will present itself…」

She wiggles into a more comfortable position as her voice trails off, and she yawns one last time before becoming deathly still…

…

The next morning, Straf opens his eyes. He jumps off the bed, and stretches out.

「Right, that should be enough. Athea, the sword is still there, right?」

With his fists on his hips, Straf looks at the ceiling over his shoulder, staring directly at the center.

《Yes, why would it not be? Do you think after all this time, someone just randomly came and pulled it out?》

Although she's audibly tired answering the same question over and over again, her tone is devoid of frustration.

「…Yeah. That thought did cross my mind. But then again, I have 400 luck.」

Straf shrugs, then nods his head sideways as he reconsiders the chances.

《Much to my annoyance…》

Athea sighs, again with a tired voice. Straf leaves his room and locks it, by the time he turns around, Cycelia also opens the door to her room.

「Straf? Good morning.」

She closes the door behind her, looking at Straf as she tries to fit the key in without looking.

「Ah, Lia. I was about to wake you up. Slept well? Ready to get the sword?」

She momentarily looks away as Straf asks quick questions without waiting for answers.

「Ah- Yes… I slept surprisingly well. It must have been all the walking.」

Clack.

She twists the key after finally paying attention to it, and the door locks.

「Great. As soon as I get the sword and the wood, we're leaving. I'm not staying in the sticks, or having a slow life.」

Straf says as he's walking towards the stairs down, with his hands in his pockets. Cycelia catches up. They return the room keys and go deeper into the village.

「Oh yeah. I just remembered I need to buy a thing or two.」

Straf sucks air in as he thinks, looking up at the morning orange sky.

「Like what?」

Cycelia tilts her head, walking beside Straf with her hands clasped behind her back.

「A shirt, for starters. And little equipment pieces. Something to hold my potions, and maybe a little pouch or two for stuff I don't want to dig in my inventory for.」

《Finding out I can't access my potions or cast when unable to focus was a nasty surprise. I would have hated to figure that out without a contrived plot device to save my ass.》

Straf counts on his fingers, gesturing with his hand as they walk. He continues staring up and away.

「Straf, look! There's a merchant that might be selling what you want!」

Cycelia exclaims, pointing her finger towards a stall with belts and pouches hanging off a beam across its counter.

「Hm? Yeah, looks like it. Let's have a look.」

Straf looks at the stall, and shrugs. He turns towards it, and they approach the merchant.

「Morning.」

Though the merchant nods his head politely and greets them, there is a distinct gloom in his voice. Cycelia nods her head back towards him.

「Man, everyone's a downer in this village, huh?… You got any belts that can hold a few potions and maybe a few pouches I can strap onto them?」

Straf asks, looking at the pile of most random leather belts and pouches of varying size.

「Aye. Here's a couple that might suit you. This one comes with a fancy card holder, too.」

「…Card holder?」

Straf asks with a narrowed eye as the merchant hands him a belt to examine. It has a few pouches sealable by a large button, presumably so that a gloved hand with little dexterity can unbutton and access the pouch with ease. It appears to fit the size of Straf's potions as well. Curiously enough, another pouch on it indeed also seems perfect for a deck of cards.

「…Why would I want cards- Forget it. I'll take it, it's good enough. Give me like 3 of those pouches too, and we're golden.」

Straf points to sameish-looking pouches laid out on the side of the counter. The merchant moves them closer, setting them on the pile of belts. Straf tightly straps the belt around his hip, with a slight slant. It crosses over his sheath's strap, giving Straf the working man of a fantasy world look.

「That'll be 4 silvers.」

「Woah. The economy here is really in the gutter, isn't it?」

Straf comments as he hands the merchant 4 silver coins with a grin.

「…Yup. This place is dead. Everyone's gonna split to Ossen or Kreisfeld at this rate.」

The merchant throws the coins into a little box with doom and gloom in his voice. He sits back down on a stool next to his stall and sighs.

「See, Lia?」

Quite satisfied with being proven right, Straf smirks and shrugs with his hands.

「Is there nothing that can be done for this village?」

Cycelia asks the man, matching his gloomy voice with her gloomy expression as she fiddles with her medallion. The man scoffs at the question.

「Heh. Lady, unless you trip into a gold mine or get the king to buy all this coal, we're done here. At least from time to time, a merchant buying timber would buy a belt and a pouch. Now there's going to be nothing.」

The merchant shakes his head, slouching with his elbows on his knees.

「Told you, Lia. Urbanization. On the bright side, nature will reclaim what is nature's when the people leave. And then we'll know where to look for people who hold negative opinions about the new government! Let's go get me a new shirt while we're at it.」

Straf shrugs his head at the merchant and puts his fists on his hips as he talks. He then turns around and walks towards a stall with clothes. Cycelia does a little polite bow towards the depressive merchant, and catches up to Straf as he's approaching the other stall.

「Morning. I need a new shirt.」

Straf nods his head, greeting the woman with his hands on his hips.

「Good morning… Long sleeve, short sleeve? What color?」

She gets up from her stool and tilts her head as she asks.

「Same as this, and same as this.」

Straf says as he pats his torn shirt.

「Because honestly, NEETs are right about wearing one shirt for weeks on end, and I like the color. That, and I want to spare the animators some suffering.」

Straf shrugs his hands, tilting his head as well. The confused woman at the stall blinks, trying to understand what Straf meant.

「He just wants a shirt as close as you can get to the one he's wearing…」

Cycelia bows and adeptly translates from Straf's language for the merchant.

「I… See… Well, how about this one? It looks like it'll fit.」

She slowly emerges out of her confusion, and takes a shirt in hand. It has an uncanny resemblance to Straf's current, torn one. He takes it in hands.

「Perfect. I'll take it.」

Straf says, and slips his destroyed shirt off. Cycelia bites her lip when his toned torso is fully visible, and the merchant subtly covers her mouth with her fingers as she looks on as well. He balls it up into his hand, and cocks his arm back to throw it into a distance…

「Straf, wait!」

Cycelia exclaims, stretching her palms out towards him with big eyes.

「What? I'm throwing it out, it's torn to shreds-」

「Can I have it instead?」

Cycelia asks, and her eye contact instantly breaks as her gaze becomes shifty and random.

「…Yeah, but why?」

Straf lowers his arm, looking at Cycelia with one eye suspiciously narrowed.

「To… Sew it?」

She replies, tapping her fingers together as she looks aside.

「Huh. Yeah, whatever. Take it. I never figured you for someone who'd sew for fun, but people do weirder stuff.」

Straf hands her the ball of shirt, and Cycelia unballs it, folds it nearly, and tucks it away into a pocket in her own shirt. It barely fits.

「1 silver for the shirt, sir.」

The merchant says, as Straf hides his hard abdominal muscles behind his new shirt. He quickly hands her the coin.

「By the way, where is the Adventurers' Guild? We're looking for the sword.」

Straf asks the merchant, placing his hands in his pockets.

「Ah, tourists? We don't get a lot of those these days. It's down this road all the way to the end, then to the left. Keep walking past the Adventurers' Guild and follow the signs. You can't miss it!」

The woman points outside the stall down the village's muddy dirt road, past other stalls.

「Cool, thanks. Let's go, Lia.」

「Yeah…」

Straf shrugs, and walks off in the direction the woman gave him. Cycelia follows, patting her pocket to ensure Straf's shirt won't fall out…