Acting and Reality Are Different
It's a fact that's easy to overlook, but many actors are vastly different from the characters they portray on stage. Right? That vicious, cool, or cute persona—is the person behind it really like that in real life? In a way, it was like the red pill. Realizing that the actor playing your favorite character is nothing like them at all.
'...Damn!'
Kira barely snapped out of it. She'd almost given Ian the red pill herself. The outward "mage act"—the snippy, hot-tempered, reckless mage—wasn't Kira's real personality at all. Her true self was far gentler, sweeter, and softer than that.
So when Ian started going off like a madman, she got flustered instead!
'Are... are all mages like this? Or is this mage just weird?!'
Kira never even considered that Ian's behavior might be an act. Why? Because she'd never had a private conversation with a real mage! She'd been too afraid of accidentally blowing her cover.
So she knew nothing about "mage etiquette"—the manners real mages took for granted among themselves.
Up until now, Kira had only played the stereotypical mage character to scam nobles. But characters and reality are different. The public's image of mages and actual mages were obviously not the same.
Kira only knew the image, not the reality. That's why she'd been trash-talking Ian from the start.
[What? Mages talk casually—that's common sense, right?]
No. There was no such common sense.
Ian stared at her like she was a heroine under some hypnosis app. What the hell? Had her sense of common sense been rewritten? Most mages' eccentricity was just an act, and real mages showed each other great respect.
But Kira, the street performer, didn't know that. So Ian just wrote her off as a weird mage and moved on.
Manny, Ingleesh, Kira. Let's go. That was the mage average.
"Getting kinda tiring standing around. Wanna head inside?"
It wasn't Kira who said that. It was Ian.
He brazenly invited himself in and stepped into Kira's room without asking. Kira was floored.
Whoa... this guy. He's nuts. There's a line to rudeness!
Kira was utterly shocked, but on the other hand, she could kind of understand Ian's behavior... Because under the nonexistent hypnosis app's influence, she'd internalized that [mages can act however they want].
Damn. He's crazy, but hey, he's a mage. I'll let it slide!
Ignoring her completely, Ian flung himself onto Kira's bed. Then, like he owned the place, he propped both feet up on the sheets.
Shoes still on!
There. How's that?
Ian smirked inwardly. He'd done the mage act so often that the chaos was starting to feel natural. This level of rudeness? He could do it in his sleep now.
Ian, the self-proclaimed last sane hope of mages and average Joe, never imagined Kira's behavior was an act. He just thought she was a rude mage.
Most mages were actually sociable and polite. Mages were, at their core, communicators. You couldn't become one if you just rambled and ignored others—act like that in front of a mystery, and you'd stop being a mage in a heartbeat.
But the atmosphere insisted [eccentric mages are normal], so mages bowed and scraped before mysteries but went wild around humans. That double standard allowed weird mages to exist.
But Ian wasn't the type to let "I'm just rude by nature!" slide.
Were all the people who followed rules and acted politely just idiots? He could understand mages being rude in front of commoners—the public expected it. But between mages? No need for the act.
So Ian figured Kira's rudeness boiled down to two reasons.
First: She'd gotten trapped in her own concept. Used to people indulging her crap, she pulled it on fellow mages too.
Or second: That was her real personality.
Either way, Ian had no intention of catering to her. What Kira needed was mirror therapy.
That's right. Ian was deliberately acting eccentric to make her realize her own flaws.
So... he put his shod feet on the bed!
Well? Pissed yet? Mirror therapy working?
"..."
But contrary to Ian's expectations, Kira didn't bat an eye. Shoes on the bed was a trigger for Koreans, but not medieval folk.
People here often lounged on beds with shoes on. It protected feet from bugs and snakes, provided minor warmth, and deterred shoe thieves—a multifaceted win.
Of course, all those perks were gone in the modern world. So anyone hopping on a bed shod was a barbarian there.
Ian's masterstroke provocation fizzled out pathetically. But it still looked obnoxious. Success.
Oh. Okay. Playing it like that, huh?
With her opponent going wild, Kira decided to match him. They both looked like mages on the outside anyway!
She stomped over, shoved Ian's head aside, and plopped down. Then she grabbed his head and pulled it onto her lap.
A lap pillow.
How's this? Bet that flusters him.
Nailed it. Ian was flustered.
No way... I was this rude, and she doesn't snap? Did I misjudge? Is she just super chill with me?
"Uh... thanks."
In his fluster, Ian reflexively thanked her. Not sincere—just polite reflex.
But Kira, who saw him as a lunatic mage, had no clue.
Heh. At least he knows to say thanks.
This guy... maybe not so bad? Just likes being comfy?
"So, what'd you want?"
"Ah, need a place for someone to crash."
"Who?"
Kira looked down at Ian's face, cheeks faintly flushing. This position... now that she'd done it, it was pretty embarrassing. But since he seemed unfazed, she couldn't complain.
Ian felt the same awkwardness. He wanted to sit up straight, but with her acting casual, he couldn't make it obvious!
So they kept up the "totally normal" act and chatted.
"Lady Belenca. Knight who's been following me."
"Oh, that girl?"
"No place to put her. Mind lending your room?"
"Sure! Bring her!"
It worked.
Ian was surprised at Kira's easy okay. Thought she was rude, but she was just free-spirited?
Kira's reason was simple: the request was too trivial.
Even faking a mage, her roots were street life. Sharing a room was nothing. And getting face time with a knight wasn't bad.
"That's all?"
"Yeah."
"Got it."
Ian and Kira fell silent. Time to get up, but neither wanted to move first. Right then—
"Mage Kira. Baron Damon has something to say about the vampire..."
Someone barged in. Belenca.
"...?"
She saw the two side-by-side on the bed and sighed softly, shaking her head.
"Ian. How long since you split from Baroness Talian, and you're already onto a new girl..."
"What the hell?"
"Can't you tell? Or are you negotiating my room for me?"
"..."
What the—? Ian breathed deeply to avoid exploding. Still overwhelming.
"Baroness Talian must be heartbroken."
"Shut up, please."
Ian scrambled up and introduced Belenca.
"This is Lady Belenca."
"Belenca from Winz."
"Kira Laventa."
Ian tilted his head.
"Laventa? First time hearing that name. Who're you?"
"...A fine person. Great mage."
"Hm?"
"Passed away."
"Ah. Sorry."
The mood dipped awkwardly. Before it got worse, Belenca grabbed them.
"Baron needs mage help."
"Me too?"
"He's treating you as a guest. Manners, right?"
Baron Damon was nearby with his men. He shouted at the sight of the mages.
"Perfect timing! Lend me your wisdom?"
"What's up?"
The baron had some memorable subordinates. Men with longbows.
"These are my snipers and scouts. Chased the vampire, ran into something weird."
"Not weird—terrifying, milord."
A green-hooded man spoke.
"Spotted the vampire muttering something strange. Suddenly, total darkness everywhere. Couldn't see a thing."
"You escaped somehow?"
"Don't joke. Hunting dogs saved us."
Strange language. Sudden darkness.
Belenca instinctively glanced at Ian. He snapped his fingers.
"Was it like this?"
Black darkness crept in around Ian. The scouts jumped, nodding furiously.
"Exactly! That unnatural darkness!"
Tch. Ian clicked his tongue.
No way that vampire knew Umbrakinesis?