So, here I am half mimic, half Kaito Kuroki and 100% disaster in motion. Mastering this new body? Harder than chewing through dungeon stone. The first time I tried to stand, my legs shook like jelly, knees threatening mutiny. I almost kissed the floor and gave the dungeon bats a good laugh.
"Congrats" I muttered. "You're a chest that can't stand properly."
But no time to sulk. Hunger gnawed deep, reminding me I wasn't some lazy piece of furniture. I clenched my fists, fingers twitchy and awkward and tried to summon mana again. A faint blue flicker sputtered in my palm like a dying candle. Awesome. Magic wasn't Kaito's strong suit and apparently, it wasn't mine either. Swinging Kaito's sword was another comedy show. The blade nearly cleaved my own foot this time, making a screech loud enough to wake the dead. Slowly, painfully, I got the hang of it, halfway decent slashes, avoiding tripping over my own feet, and keeping the mimic teeth from accidentally snapping when I wasn't hungry.
Then came the hardest part: going outside.
Dungeon walls are forgiving, they don't ask questions. The human world? A minefield. The moment I stepped into sunlight, memories of Kaito's friends and comrades slapped me like a wet fish. Apparently, Kaito wasn't a lone wolf. He had just joined an adventurer party, three others, each with their quirks and questionable hygiene. They spotted me immediately, their faces a mix of shock, confusion, and suspicion.
"Wait… Kaito?" one asked, stepping closer cautiously.
I had to fake a smile that was more "help me" than "hi."
Joining them was like trying to sneak a dragon into a mouse hole, awkward, dangerous, and likely to end in disaster. Camp life was a circus. Arguments over loot, bragging rights, and who got to sleep nearest the fire. I mostly kept quiet, trying to match Kaito's memories with reality, but mostly just embarrassing myself.
Meanwhile, the hunger was relentless, a beast clawing at my insides every night.
I whispered terrible puns to myself. "If I had a gold coin for every time I wanted to eat someone, I'd be richer than a dungeon lord."
No laughs, but whatever. Then, the monsters showed up. Big, ugly things with claws, teeth and bad attitudes. Time to test if I was actually a mimic or a glorified furniture piece.
Heart pounding, sword in hand, I charged, clumsy but determined. The fight was chaos, swinging, dodging, and just barely not biting a teammate in confusion. By the end, I'd survived and the party looked at me like I might actually be useful or maybe just lucky.
Either way, the game of masks had begun.