Some day.

The first time you wake up in her body—the exact one like the character you customized, the better version of you—you scream so loud before a phone—assuming it’s hers—rings.

It’s Xavier. He’s upstairs. Ah damn it, how does she usually speak?

You ponder a bit too long before the ringing stops, and he messages you instead.

“What happened, Y/N? Should I go down?”

“Nothing happened! Just a cockroach in my bathroom! No need to come, I got it handled already!”

“Cockroach? You fight nastier wanderers, but you’re screaming because of a cockroach…?”

You don’t reply. Your heart thumps so loud it might jump to your throat; even the watch gives you a warning that your vitals are going haywire. You know where you are: at her apartment, with the dolls you caught from the arcade—that’s right. I did, not the LIs. They really suck at catching dolls. But that’s not the point. This is inside your game. But why are you here? You still don’t know. The last thing you remember in your world is eating half a cup of noodles, saving money for gems.

You ask for sick leave for a week to adjust yourself before facing this world. Everyone knows she’s a hardworking Hunter, so they all message you asking what is wrong and if there’s anything they can do to help. You feel glad she has a better social life than you do in real life.

You cancel all appointments with the LIs. Looking at her schedule—fully packed between work and meetings with five men while still having time for herself—you don’t think you can pull this off.

And so you search her apartment. You get startled several times by the hovering displays you accidentally touch—how your world’s tech can’t compare to this. Everything is almost automated, except cooking and working. You spend three days learning about this world before a bell disturbs your concentration. You take a peek; it’s Zayne.

Damn it—why does it have to be him?

You know how he pays attention to small details, and you’re sure he can see through you. He might “interrogate” you if he finds out you’re not her. Or worse, he’ll admit you to a psychiatric ward if you tell him your truth.

Ah, screw this. You open the door. There he is, in his neat white shirt, sleeves folded at his arms. He walks inside carrying a medical bag.

“Uh, hi? What’s with the bag?” You cautiously scan the contents. He pinches his nose and sighs.

“Did you forget the mandatory examination? You were supposed to come two days ago. I came so I can file the report immediately.” He swiftly takes his stethoscope and puts the blood pressure monitor on the table. “Now sit.”

You immediately sit, avoiding conversation so you won’t be found out. Eventually, you’ll be caught, but at least let it not be now, while you still know nothing about this world.

“Your heart beats faster than usual. Are you stressed or in panic?” You jolt, then smile sheepishly. He narrows his eyes a bit.

“I was just catching a cockroach, Zayne. It flew everywhere and I had to run to catch it.”

“Cockroach, huh…” Zayne doesn’t continue, only his hands working while examining your health. “Is there any discomfort or pain? I know you just came back from a grueling mission.”

No wonder your body aches all over. She might be used to this level of “discomfort,” but you’re used to a more peaceful life.

“I’m fine. Just a minor scratch or two. I already treated them by myself.” You try your best to mimic her usual conversation and tone. Luckily, Zayne just replies with a small sigh.

“You should take care of your body better.” He puts all his medical stuff back, then pulls up his laptop to enter your medical records. “I’m heading back soon. Want to meet up later tonight?”

“Uh, I still need time studying—recuperating. Maybe next week?” You grab your phone, pretending to look at your schedule.

He lifts an eyebrow, then stands immediately. “Fine. We can talk about it later.”

You walk to the front door, seeing him out. “Thanks for coming, Zayne.”

He turns his head, then kisses your forehead quick. “Don’t think you can run for long, Y/N.” Then he clicks the door shut, leaving you stunned.

Wait—I don’t remember raising his affinity this high?!

You put your hands over your mouth and throw your own—her body—onto the bed, rolling around, holding back a scream from the embarrassment of that kiss.

The next day is worse. Rafayel comes in and brings a lot of food, saying his "cutie" needs more nourishment after battling such powerful wanderers by herself. All of them are definitely not your favorite. You hate everything he laid on the table.

“Cutie, why aren’t you eating?” He props his face up with his hands on the table, glancing at you like a playful puppy. “Are you mad at me or something?”

“No? Why would I?” You feel confused about how to answer; you aren’t ready to meet anyone. You can only avoid his gaze every time he looks at you with concern. “I’m just not hungry, Raf.”

“But I bought all your favorites from that 5-star restaurant you like! How could you say you’re not hungry—you’re definitely angry at me!” He huffs and pouts, his hands folded across his chest.

“I—I’ll just take a bite, ok?” You take a spoonful of a soup—the least you hate—and struggle to keep down what you just swallowed.

“I know you’re hungry, eat some more!” He grins happily; you feel guilty.

He then continues to yap about lots of stuff and you just nod while eating the rest of the soup, taking notes on information about her life.

“You’re really not in the mood for eating, huh…” he scratches his neck awkwardly. “Was it because of me?”

You’re at a loss for words, only glancing at him. His eyes are watching you a bit too deeply for your affinity level. He takes your hand and puts his cheek on it, nuzzling your hand. You feel your hand go stiff,not knowing how to respond.

“Did you… hate what happened the day before you went on a mission?”

He stops nuzzling, his eyes looking at yours with a hint of sadness. He moves toward you, his hands on your cheeks. He leans a bit closer, almost kissing you. You clench your eyes closed, waiting for his kiss. But a moment later, nothing happens. You open an eye to see him smiling back like nothing happened.

“Juuust kidding!” He giggles like what he did before was just a prank.

“You—!” You want to get angry, but you can't.

He stands and looms over you, both hands on the table around you with the same smile still plastered, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I wasn’t, though. I’ll be waiting at my studio.” He backs away, taking his clutch before walking to the door. “You better be ready, cutie.”

You’re speechless as he looks back and blinks an eye before leaving and closing the door shut.

“Warning, warning, abnormal vital signs detected!” You jump at the loud notification.

Ah shit, what do I do?? You cover your face with both hands. It was a fun game, surrounded by five men who chased after you, but if you’re really stuck here, you can’t have them all. You sound like a jerk already, thinking about how to reject four of them.

Not to mention Tara and the whole association. Her body has awesome reflexes, but it won’t help you battle wanderers. You used to just press the buttons randomly when you were bored, but now? You’re going to die if they assign you to a solo mission.

Your concentration snaps at the sound of a window clacking. A crow is there—tapping the glass to be let in. Mephisto. Has Sylus been looking at your apartment this whole time?

You open the window and it flaps its wings in. It perches on top of your table, eyeing the food.

“You can eat them.”

Another ring from your phone. Sylus.

“I’m coming over tonight.” And he ends the call. You find yourself in a cold sweat. He could torture you if he finds out you’re not her.

You pace around, thinking of what to do, but your head is stuck. You use the time to clean up the rest of the food and the whole apartment. You don't realize that it has suddenly turned to night.

Another ring. An ominous one. You don’t need to take a peek.

“Open up, Y/N.”

So you do. He is standing right in front of the door; you have to tilt your head up to see his face, not used to his height. His eyes are looking at you, searching for something. He smells like leather and expensive wine, mixed with oud.

“Aren’t you going to let me in?”

You immediately open the door wide, and he enters, sitting straight down on the sofa. He stretches one arm across the back of the couch.

“So, who are you?” He asks straight to the point. Shit.

“Wh-what do you mean, Sy…?” You smile and speak, but your tone and your smile feel so out of place that you know he feels it too.

“Don’t lie to me—it’s no use.” He chuckles and shakes his head as he stands, walking slowly toward you. The closer he gets, the harder you feel your heart pounding. “You might think you mimic her perfectly, but your movements are more fluid. Different.”

“So I ask you again,” he corners you against the wall, both hands pinning you in so you can't escape,“who are you?”

I personally would run if Sylus ever interrogates me. He’s handsome and nice to mc but to everyone else? I might confess every sin I committed if he asks. 😂