After dinner, Ackster started making the final preparations. He went over the final parts of his plan, even though they were the least complicated, to make sure there weren’t any obvious flaws that would inevitably lead to his premature passing.
But if he hadn’t noticed anything significantly off with his plan so far, Ackster wouldn’t notice anything when he only had a couple of hours left to execute the last steps. So, he was a little more productive instead and inspected the bathroom to make sure there weren’t any traces left of the bloodletting.
Although he had told the Doppelganger Slime to clean up afterward, that one had been in the forest up till last night. What could it possibly know about cleaning blood off of a bathroom floor and a bathtub?
Ackster did find a few specks of blood that the Doppelganger Slime had missed. He celebrated his overly cautious attitude by scrubbing them away. As he did so, he worried that a spotty, spotlessly clean bathroom would raise any suspicions. But then he remembered that while the Phileam House was a first-generation noble household, they still had enough money to hire servants that knew how to clean.
And the bathroom was already as clean as it could be. It would require superhuman eyes to notice the difference or any remaining blood spots, which would have had to be too small and unnoticeable for Ackster to see.
After cleaning the bathroom, he ruffled his bed so that it would look like he had just slept in it. It was mostly an unnecessary precautionary measure in case someone would think that Ackster making his own bed before fighting The Hero would be suspicious.
With that done, Ackster once again stripped and handed his clothes to the Doppelganger Slime.
The Doppelganger Slime had mimicked Ackster’s clothes when it copied him, and it had done it perfectly. The clothes looked and felt like real clothes. But there was a clear flaw with them.
They couldn’t be removed from the Doppelganger Slime’s body.
If things went as Ackster hoped, and his parents followed the instructions in his letter to the letter, no one would notice anything. But in case that didn’t happen, and his parents wanted to bury him in formal attire, despite the informal state the body would be in after death, the Doppelganger Slime would have to be dressed in real, non-slime clothes.
“What the fuck am I supposed to do with these? What kind of sick bastard are you to force your clothes on someone else while naked? Is it some twisted fetish of yours? If it is, I want no part in it. Take your clothes and your wrinkled old ass far away from here, pervert.”
Ackster didn’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed at the Doppelganger Slime’s harsh words. He briefly wondered if he had maybe gone a little overboard while acting like the original Ackster. But then he remembered what the original Ackster had been like and wondered if he maybe should have added a few insults to the lines the Doppelganger Slime would recite on the stage tomorrow.
Well, it was too late for that now. And since the Doppelganger Slime was obedient to him, Ackster decided not to mind the harsh words that had come from his mouth in the first place.
After accepting Ackster’s command, the Doppelganger Slime’s slime clothes melted into its skin and disappeared.
‘It looks bigger from the front….’
Ackster was a little unsettled at seeing his naked self in front of him. But after learning from Ackster’s behavior and words the past day, the Doppelganger Slime was like another him. So, it was like looking at a life-like mirror. There was also the helping factor that it wasn’t his body originally.
And after realizing he had been blessed in more ways than one after transmigrating, Ackster and the Doppelganger Slime both got dressed again.
Ackster wore the clothes of homelessness he had brought back after the last adventure outside. And the Doppelganger Slime wore the clothes it had just received from Ackster.
Ackster glanced out the window, which he had made sure the Doppelganger Slime never appeared in front of and confirmed that dusk was quickly approaching. It was soon time to get things going.
The last thing Ackster did was to check on the other thing he had brought back from where he found the Doppelganger Slime. It was still in the bag he had used to collect the herbs, and it wasn’t very lively, despite appearing to have eaten the remnant herbs.
Ackster was a little curious about what it was. He also realized it hadn’t been the smartest thing to do to bring it along on a whim like that. But that was in the past, and it didn’t look like it would bring any trouble to him on his escape since he still had to remove any traces of him leaving the estate the last few days.
That meant making sure he hadn’t tracked dirt along the window, windowsill, or walls. He also couldn’t leave behind anything he had picked up outside. So, his disguise, the bag, and its contents had to come with him. He couldn’t even leave any fragments of the Sun-kissed Grass behind in case it revealed his adventures.
And on the other side of that was the fact that he also couldn’t bring anything with him. Everything he owned had to remain within his room.
Even the few coins he had used to buy the clothes from the homeless people on the street had been risky. But it was a risk he had to take. Besides, Ackster didn’t think even the original Ackster knew exactly how much money he had at all times. No one would notice one or two coins going missing here and there.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
But taking any more wouldn’t do. It also wouldn’t match what he was going to do next, so he didn’t need them.
After checking himself and the room several times over and making sure that everything was as it was supposed to be, Ackster looked at his doppelganger and smiled.
“Time for a distraction, you bastard.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, you bastard.”
The Doppelganger Slime with Ackster’s face glared at him. But Ackster just ignored it.
“Yeah, yeah. Just shut up for now, and listen closely.”
Despite its rebellious words, the Doppelganger Slime obediently shut up and waited for Ackster to continue.
“Ah, that’s nice. Now then. You’re going to have to create a distraction so that I can sneak out. I’ll give you a few rules. Don’t fight with anyone. Don’t attack anyone or fall for any provocations. Don’t talk too much with any one person. Act just a little suspicious, as if you’re thinking about how hard it would be to flee without actually considering it. Got it?”
The slime nodded.
“Good. Keep that in mind while you go to the knights’ training ground, where the fight with The Hero will be held tomorrow. Make noise and make sure to drag as many of the knights there without making it suspicious. Say that you’re just inspecting the place to make sure there’s no foul play going on or that no one is making preparations to help The Hero. Don’t be too slow about it, but make it believable. Got it?”
The slime nodded.
“Good. Go– Ah, wait. You’re free to talk now, you bastard.”
“Who says I need your permission to talk, Pignose.”
‘Insults like that lose their flavor when you have the same appearance, huh, especially when you’re handsome.’
Ackster saw his Doppelganger out the door while confirming that he did not have a pig’s nose by looking at his duplicate. If anything, it was a nice, even, straight nose, very much unlike the things most pigs had.
Ackster closed the door and realized that he shouldn’t waste precious time thinking about such useless things. He had to concentrate.
He could already hear his doppelganger cuss the servants who got caught in his path, and it wouldn’t be long until he made it to the training grounds.
Considering the flight risk and the inherent strength Ackster had, more than a couple of guards would show up to make sure Ackster was ‘protected.’ But Ackster’s goal in having the Doppelganger Slime go to the training grounds and create a distraction wasn’t only to get the guards away. By now, with his experience from the previous times, Ackster was pretty sure he could sneak out undetected without the Doppelganger Slime’s help.
However, it was the last night before the fight with The Hero. It was also the only night left during which Ackster could try and flee.
The Hero, who had already been made to wait an entire week from continuing his mission of investigating the signs of Doppelgangers, real Doppelgangers, not the slimes, wouldn’t tolerate Ackster fleeing at the very last moment.
The Hero wasn’t so lazy or bored that he could watch Ackster’s window and make sure he didn’t flee every night. He was The Hero. He couldn’t afford not to be productive, whether that be training or studying.
However, he was still autonomous and independent enough to be able to watch Ackster one night. And since Ackster hadn’t fled yet, it would be this night.
The Doppelganger Slime’s distraction wasn’t to move the guards and shift the tightness of the net they had laid to stop Ackster from escaping. It was to move The Hero’s attention away from the window.
Ackster also hoped that The Hero would see Ackster being his usual dickheaded self and decide that it would be better to either rest or practice and train instead of watching an overblown idiot posture like a drunk goose.
So, even if he wanted to pop his head up and peek out the window, Ackster held back and used his ears to pinpoint how it was going for his doppelganger. If The Hero sensed or saw Ackster through his window when the Doppelganger Slime was walking around outside, he would instantly realize that something was amiss, and all of Ackster’s hard work and planning would have been for naught.
Even if he could hear most of the guards move around the side of the house to create a secure perimeter around the Ackster, claiming he would inspect the training grounds to make sure The Hero wasn’t cheating, the real Ackster couldn’t take a look.
Despite the critical situation and the fact that his fate hung by a thread at this very moment. Anything could make or break the reaper’s scythe resting on his neck. And Ackster had to be patient. He had to find the perfect timing.
It was just that finding and holding onto his patience in such a tense situation took all of Ackster’s concentration. He would much rather relive his fight with the poison goblin, no experience, with the fever, pain, and all that.
He didn’t even know why he had such a hard time concentrating on being patient when he had done so well thus far, what with his life being about the end due to being thrust into such a ridiculous situation just because he was involved in a traffic accident. He didn’t even know if he really had transmigrated. It could just be a silly dream, but it all felt too realistic, despite the elements of fantasy. The pain when he broke his arm and when he stabbed his own leg had been especially realistic.
Well, after being in a traffic accident enough to put him in a coma, maybe his body and mind were good at pain. It could all just be a way for him to handle the pain of being run over. But what would happen if he died then? Was it a sign he hadn’t been able to handle the pain? Or would the dream restart?
But what if it wasn’t a dream? If he had really transmigrated, as ludicrous as it sounded, he would die if he died. And he definitely didn’t want to bet on having another go or coming back to life after he died.
In all stories he had read where the main character was in such a situation or possessed that kind of ability, they always discovered it quickly. If Ackster had that kind of ability, he felt like he would have ended up in a situation where he would have used it the first night. Either because The Hero would have killed him or because he would have died to the goblin.
But neither of those two things had happened. Sure, life wasn’t necessarily like stories, but if he had transmigrated into a story, why couldn’t other aspects of his life follow the reasoning and patterns often found in stories?
There was also the fact that there was no reason for him to receive another attempt or transmigrate to another place and person.
It was all just so unreliable. Without knowing anything about how or why he had transmigrated or whether he would get another attempt or not, Ackster wouldn’t take any unnecessary chances. He had gotten one more chance at life, even if it wasn’t his own. And he would do his best to see it through to the end.
But at the moment, he was going to focus on what was ahead of him. After all, if he failed tonight, seeing his life through to the end would only be a matter of hours.