"I-I really… don't get what's going on…" Lucas muttered weakly, his steps half dragged along by the knight's rough pull.
His head spun, stomach churning.
The world around him felt like it was tilting, people's voices echoing far away.
"Wait, I think I'm gonna—"
"Shut up." The knight didn't give him time. With a harsh shove, she pushed Lucas toward the side of the road, right beside an old tree with roots jutting out of the ground.
"Ughh—!" Lucas dropped to his knees, and then—HUUURRGHH! His stomach emptied itself in one violent heave. The sour stench of vomit mixed with stale booze spread through the air.
"Shit… this is disgusting…" Lucas groaned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
A few passersby glanced over, but quickly lowered their heads and walked faster, as if this sight was just another normal thing from Young Master Lucian Voss.
Panting, pale, Lucas thought bitterly, Why does this body feel like it partied all night? I don't even remember drinking anything…
The knight only stared at him with a look of pure disgust.
"If you're done humiliating yourself, get up. We need to go home before you cause another mess."
Lucas turned his head slowly, still half-nauseous.
"…Home? Home where? I don't even know what city this is…"
He was still crouched by the tree, breathing unevenly, the smell of vomit and wet soil clogging his nose.
Suddenly his collar was yanked up roughly.
"Stop playing dumb!" The knight's voice exploded, cold and full of fury.
Lucas was hauled halfway to his feet, eyes wide. The woman's hair fell loose, strands slipping across her face—but that only made Lucas freeze.
Silvery white hair shimmered under the fading light. Her face was sharp, beautiful—eyes like blades cutting straight through him.
Holy… an angel? Lucas gawked, mouth half-open.
SMACK!
A sharp slap landed across his cheek.
"Argh!" Lucas flinched, his face stinging hot.
"You think Baron can still cover up your disgrace, Lucian Voss?"
Lucas froze. "Wait… so my name is… Lucian Voss?"
The knight glared at him, breathing hard.
"Shut your mouth and walk. Don't make me even more disgusted with you."
Lucas stayed silent. Deep down, he wanted to argue—but logic quickly kicked in: Okay… better play along. Otherwise I'm getting my ass handed to me.
"Fine… fine, I'll go," he muttered under his breath.
They walked back to the main road, passing villagers who immediately lowered their heads at the sight of them. No greetings, no words—just fleeting, fearful glances that vanished the moment Lucas and the knight passed by.
At last, they arrived in front of a massive manor. Gray stone walls loomed, and on the iron gate, a thorned rose crest was engraved. The air around it was silent—too silent for a noble's residence.
Lucas swallowed hard. "This place… Baron Voss's estate?"
The knight only glanced at him, then opened the gate without answering.
As they stepped into the courtyard, Lucas gathered his courage. "Hey, actually… who are you?"
The knight halted, her body turning stiffly. Her expression hardened like stone.
"Shut up. You dare question me? Don't think you can fool us with your pathetic act."
Lucas flinched, nearly stepping back. Why was she so quick to anger? Could it be… this body—or rather, the original owner—had made her suffer before?
The heavy manor doors swung open, and Lucas was dragged inside. Cold marble floors stretched beneath his feet, long corridors lined with portraits of the Voss family glaring down from the walls.
The knight stopped before a massive door, her eyes glinting with disgust.
"Go in. That's your room."
Lucas hesitated, but stepped inside anyway.
Before closing the door, the knight's voice cut like a blade.
"If you were even the slightest bit useful… maybe people in this house wouldn't hate the sight of you."
BAM!
The door slammed shut.
Lucas stood frozen in the middle of the wide, yet chillingly empty room. His chest trembled. Damn… what the hell did this body do before I got here?
He drifted toward the mirror, staring at his reflection.
The face staring back… the longer he looked, the more familiar it became. The jawline, the eyebrows, the lips—it was still his.
But there were differences. His hair, now a dull brown, messy and lifeless. His skin was pale, as if it had never seen the sun. And worst of all… the reflection just looked so much lamer than the him he remembered.
"So this is me? …Shit, I look like some nerdy high school kid."
Nervous curiosity mixed with panic, Lucas yanked open the white shirt he was wearing. The sight in the mirror made his eyes bulge.
"FUCKKK!"
What greeted him was a skinny frame, faint ribs showing, arms thin and pathetic. The muscles he had once prided himself on—earned from daily discipline of sit-ups, push-ups, and pull ups—were all gone.
Lucas ran a hand down his chest in disbelief.
"My abs… my workouts… all gone?" He almost laughed bitterly.
Damn it. I've become a trash-tier man. What the hell is this? I got struck by lightning, did I die? In a coma? But… this feels too real.
He exhaled, slipping his shirt back on.
Lucas plopped his flat ass down at the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands.
"Shit… don't tell me this isn't like those transmigration novels, right…?"
Knock, knock.
Lucas lowered his hands from his face, glancing toward the door. The knocking was hesitant, barely audible.
The door creaked open a little, and a maid stepped inside. Her hair was long and black, cascading down to her waist. Her face was small, pale. She walked slowly, her eyes fixed on the floor.
Lucas frowned. "Hey, what's wrong with you? You look like you're terrified just looking at me."
The maid jolted, her body trembling. Both her hands shook as she hid something behind her apron.
Lucas stood, trying to approach. "Are you sick? What's going on?"
She took a step back, her face turning even paler. Her voice was faint, like someone being forced into confession.
"A-as you ordered, Young Master…"
Lucas blinked. "Ordered? What do you mean?"
Slowly, the maid lifted her hands. From the folds of her worn apron, she pulled out something… a thin piece of white underwear.
Lucas froze. "…"
The maid bowed her head so low it nearly touched the floor, her voice quivering, almost in tears.
"A-as you commanded… these are my underwear… I haven't washed for two days…"
"…HUH???" Lucas's jaw dropped.
The maid trembled harder, hastily placing the panties on the small table by the door. "F-forgive me, Young Master… I'll leave now. Please enjoy your… private time… p-please."
She shoved the underwear forward, and Lucas instinctively caught it with his left hand.
He stared at the trembling maid, his throat dry.
"I-I'll take my leave," she whispered, bowing again before hurrying out of the room.
The door closed. Silence returned. Lucas stood there, clutching women's underwear in his hand, completely dumbfounded.