The Visitors
Features buried deep beneath folds of flabby flesh, beady eyes slitted with petty malice, flabby arms that jiggled with every breath, and a paunch swollen like a small mountain.
Draping all that mass in opulent silk and glittering baubles only made the spectacle downright comical.
Looking every inch like a textbook corrupt noble plucked straight from an illustration, this man went by the name of Garry Halara.
He was a throwaway extra who made a fleeting appearance in the game's storyline. Just as his hideous exterior suggested, his role was that of a stereotypical villain whose sole purpose in life was to get ruthlessly crushed and butchered by the protagonist.
He had practically existed to show players, "This is your average noble in this world!"—a walking caricature defined by arrogant posturing and obnoxious dialogue. Yet here he was, fawning over me with an oily, obsequious grin. It seemed even trash like him knew how to pick his battles.
"Ahem. Lord Aljen, are you listening?"
"Huh? Nope."
"Pardon? What do you mean by..."
Staring at that overwhelming mound of blubber was giving me a headache, so my eyes naturally wandered away.
"I wasn't listening. What were you babbling about?"
"...As I was saying, my lord."
A smile remained plastered across his face, but the shadow passing over his brow and the twitch at the corner of his lips made it obvious he was seething. He was terrible at concealing his emotions.
Then again, there was a reason the Garry family treated Halara like an outcast. They only kept him around because noble blood ran through his veins, but with no talent, little intellect, and a revolting appearance, he possessed zero utility. Halara knew it all too well, which had driven him to abandon all restraint and live like an absolute delinquent.
Much like the original Stanashila Aljen, in fact.
Though didn't this guy at least manage to get married? I recalled he had quite a few children, too. In that single regard, he was doing better than Aljen ever did.
"Lord Aljen! Together, you and I could hold the entire world in our grasp!"
"Huh...?"
I stared blankly at him as he suddenly sprang to his feet, bellowing with unearned grandeur.
"With the boundless knowledge of past and future you possess, paired with my extraordinary capabilities, no one would ever dare look down on us again!"
"And what capabilities would those be?"
"If you will pardon the bluntness, I have heard you are also considered an outcast by the ducal house! Just as I am! Don't you wish to be repaid for all those years of scorn and oppression?"
"No, wait. How exactly are you planning to—"
"We can do it, my lord! As long as you provide the information, I shall polish it with my own two hands into a jewel the likes of which this world has never seen!"
He had no intention of listening to a word I said. Every single syllable spilling from his maw was the deluded rambling of a fool entirely divorced from reality. And trying to manufacture forced camaraderie by harping on our shared status as outcasts was quite possibly the most idiotic, tone-deaf card he could have played. Had the real Stanashila Aljen been sitting in this chair instead of me, this pig's head would have already been rolling across the floor.
"Haah... Get lost."
"Especially the rumors regarding the Elixir! If that information is true... Wait, excuse me?"
"Stop sweating all over my carpet and get the hell out, you fat pig."
When I glared daggers at him and spat the insult, he trembled violently, his face flushing crimson.
"H-How dare... Even if you are the Duke's son, to show such insolence...!"
"Haah. Muriel. See our guest out."
"Understood. Honored guest, the exit is this way."
As Muriel subtly released a suffocating wave of pressure, the man's face drained of all color. Letting out a squeal like a stuck swine, he hastily waddled toward the door as fast as his stubby legs could carry him.
"I-I will remember this insult...!"
Slam!
He seemed to squawk something at the end, but the heavy oak door banged shut before his words could carry inside.
"Muriel. Are they all like that?"
"...Lord Urtega personally screened each visitor."
"Really? Our magnificent Duke actually let that specimen through? I have no idea what's going through his head."
A parade of visitors wishing for an audience followed after that.
The second was essentially a carbon copy of Garry Halara.
The third was far more wicked than Halara, though he at least possessed some meager degree of competence.
The fourth was leagues ahead of Halara in both cunning and status, but he was audacious enough to attempt putting a leash around my neck.
"Hmm..."
As each successive visitor proved more capable than the last, my boredom gave way to mild intrigue. That fourth fellow in particular, the master of a massive merchant company, had clearly done his homework on Stanashila Aljen. He had marched in brandishing evidence of the vile, atrocious crimes that piece of trash had committed in the past, actually attempting to blackmail me with them.
Naturally, it had zero effect.
My utter indifference had caught him completely off guard, and watching his smug expression collapse into pale, mortified horror had been quite the spectacle.
"Lord Aljen. That man just now. Shall I kill him?"
"Hm? Why?"
I glanced back to see Muriel staring intently at the shut door, a dagger already resting in her hand.
"He dared to threaten you."
"Well, it's definitely a capital offense, but I'm in a decent mood right now. Murdering him just for that feels a bit much..."
"Furthermore, I felt distinct bloodlust radiating from him."
"Oh, really? Now that's interesting."
Was he planning to send assassins? It made sense. If word got out that he had tried to shake down the third son of a ducal house, his head wouldn't remain attached to his shoulders for long. In other words, meeting me had been the single greatest gamble of his entire life. A high-stakes wager where success meant unimaginable wealth and failure meant the abyss.
I suppose that was just the kind of man he was. A degenerate gambler who lived for the thrill of the precipice... Perhaps that sheer recklessness was how he had built such an empire of commerce in the first place. He was fascinating enough that I found myself wondering why he had never been mentioned in the game's official setting books.
"Leave it. Let him be."
"...Understood."
"Ah, what was his name again?"
"It was Zeb."
"A commoner, then. I should remember that... Nah, who am I kidding, I'll probably forget by tomorrow. Keep track of him for me, will you?"
"Yes, my lord."
Gulp.
"Phew..."
Still, what was Urtega trying to accomplish by arranging this particular lineup in this specific order? Was this some kind of test? It had felt like an absolute chore at first, but now it was turning out to be rather amusing.
"Pardon the intrusion."
After a short wait, the next visitor stepped into the room.
Crisp, sharp facial features radiating integrity, sun-kissed bronzed skin, bright orange hair tied back into a high ponytail that exposed the nape of her neck, and eyes that blazed with the intensity of an open flame.
"Hmm...?"
Seeing someone whose face went beyond familiar into genuinely welcome made me stare without realizing it.
"If my manners offend you in any way, I beg your forgiveness. I am merely an ignorant commoner untutored in noble etiquette."
Catching my gaze, she offered a stiff nod before throwing back her shoulders and standing at proud, rigid attention. For some reason, her outfit boldly exposed her entire abdomen and flanks, drawing my eyes straight toward her slender navel and the razor-sharp definition of her abs. No, looking closer, the garment was cut so skintight that every single curve of her athletic physique was laid entirely bare.
Was she attempting a honeypot? It was completely out of character for a woman like her, but given her desperate circumstances, she was clearly prepared to grasp at whatever straws she could find. Even so, the way her eyes darted with the raw vigilance of a wild beast was quintessentially her. She definitely had no talent for seduction.
"I am Rebecca, working as an adventurer and mercenary. Having heard the rumors surrounding Lord Stanashila Aljen, I have come seeking answers."
"Must've surprised you, huh? You tossed out a request on a whim, and against all odds, they actually granted you an audience."
She flinched. A faint tremor ran through her shoulders before she slowly dipped her head.
"...Indeed. I never imagined I would truly be permitted inside the ducal estate."
"An adventurer and a mercenary... What's your rank?"
"Gold Rank."
"In both?"
"Yes."
"Oho. Quite the talent."
"Thank you, my lord."
I studied her as she offered another polite bow, then gestured toward the couch with my chin. Taking the cue, she bowed once more and seated herself with measured composure.
"Well, well..."
I genuinely hadn't expected to run into Rebecca here. With her hearty, reliable big-sister personality, her tall, voluptuous physique brimming with radiant vitality, her strikingly handsome features, and combat prowess that remained viable well into the late game, she had been a staple recruit for many players' Hero parties.
Even though she wasn't an official heroine from the start, that hardly mattered. Origin World featured a system known as Heroine Promotion.
Once a character's affection reached a certain threshold and specific trigger events were completed, virtually any female character in the game could be elevated to the status of an official heroine. The game had even prepared unique dialogue, individual endings, and custom illustrations for every promoted heroine. That applied to every single named female character across the entire game.
Yes. Origin World truly was an unmatched masterpiece of gaming. There was a reason I had poured so much of my life into it.
If I hadn't been unceremoniously shoved into this body, it would still hold the title of the greatest game in existence in my heart... Though, as a point of order, you couldn't promote every woman simultaneously. The system capped active heroines at six, which, together with the protagonist, brought the Hero's party to its maximum capacity of seven. Now that the game had become reality, of course, there was no telling how those arbitrary mechanics would manifest.
"Lord Aljen?"
"Hm? Ah... Pardon me. Must've had a bit too much to drink."
I tipped the glass back and gulped down another mouthful. For a fleeting instant, Rebecca's expression morphed into pure, unvarnished pity before vanishing behind a flawless mask of neutrality. It was such a quintessential reaction from a woman who prized discipline, integrity, and relentless effort that a dry chuckle slipped past my lips.
Right, shouldn't do that.
I took a long drag from my cigarette, exhaling a plume of blue smoke to wipe the smile from my face, and met her fiery gaze.
"Is Leona's condition that bad?"
"...!?"
To me, it was nothing more than a light jab, but her eyes widened in utter disbelief, and she shot up from the couch like a coiled spring.
"H-How do you know that name?!"
"Calm down and sit back down. You're making my maid nervous."
I motioned toward Muriel, who had silently closed the distance with her drawn dagger. Snapping back to her senses, Rebecca stiffly lowered herself back onto the cushions. Yet her burning orange eyes were trembling wildly with a cocktail of confusion, shock, and mounting reverence, as if she were beholding an unfathomable mystery.
"C-Could the rumors be true... Are you truly an Avatar?"
"Does that matter? Want me to answer that? If I do, consider your one question spent."
"...!!"
Her face drained of color, and she hurriedly pressed her forehead toward her knees.
"F-Forgive me! I forgot my place and spoke out of turn!"
"It's fine. I've just had that exact question thrown at me so many times lately that I'm sick of hearing it..."
I blew another ring of smoke and took another swig of liquor. Unlike moments ago, Rebecca sat completely rigid, cold sweat beading on her brow as she clenched her fists tightly against her thighs.
In the game route unlocked only after her Heroine Promotion, her younger sister inevitably dies. Right when the miraculous cure for her incurable illness is finally brewed, a demon raid razes the village, butchering the girl before the medicine can ever reach her lips. That tragedy ignites a hatred for the demon race inside Rebecca that burns hot enough to pierce the heavens, instantly cementing her decision to join the Hero's party after endless hesitation.
Because of that, if I stepped in and saved her sister right here and now, the ripple effect on the future would be enormous. It might permanently derail her from ever joining the Hero's party.
...Then again, does agonizing over that even matter?
I knew next to nothing about the protagonist in this reality, nor could I predict how the future would unfold. Trying to navigate this world by clinging to the original script would only produce one wrong answer after another.
All right. Decision made. I'll do whatever I damn well please. Besides, I happened to be in dire need of capable hands anyway.
"You came here because you want the cure for Mana Perforation, right?"
"Mana Perforation...?! D-Don't tell me... Is that the name of the affliction plaguing my sister?!"
"...Ah, slip of the tongue."
A smirk pulled at the corner of my lips as I took another sip.
"I went and blabbed the diagnosis without thinking... What'll you do? You already got a priceless piece of information. Care to pack up and head home? Since it was my mistake, I won't charge you for it."
"N-No! This is the first time I have ever heard the name 'Mana Perforation' in my life! What I need is the method to cure it!"
"Is that so? You really dote on that sister of yours. Though I suppose dressing like that to come see me makes that obvious enough."
"...Ngh."
The moment I pointed out her revealing attire, a vivid crimson blush rushed up her neck to engulf her cheeks. Seeing her flustered in the flesh was infinitely more captivating than any 2D illustration had ever been.
"Heh. What if I demand your body as payment?"
"...I will give it to you. Not just my body, but everything I possess. Whatever you desire."
Looking at her face, blazing with unyielding determination, I gave an approving nod. Yes, that was the Rebecca I knew. She was so true to her game persona that a wave of pure nostalgia washed over me.
"Really? Even if I suck you completely dry, right down to the marrow?"
"......"
She offered no reply. She simply stared back at me, her gaze fierce, upright, and brimming with unshakeable conviction.
"Man, you're terrifying... Fine, fine. Settle down. I'll tell you what you want for a reasonable price."
"Truly?! Thank you! Thank you so much!"
A radiant, unreserved smile split her features as she bowed her head over and over in frantic gratitude.
Every single bow sent her ample curves bouncing and swaying with vigorous, unfiltered momentum.
"...Damn."
A low whistle escaped my lips as I tipped my glass back. The alcohol going down my throat tasted inexplicably sweet.