After figuring out the situation he had transmigrated into, Ackster began thinking of a solution. Dying once was embarrassing enough. Twice in one week simply wouldnât do. However, avoiding a death sentence when The Hero was the executioner was easier said than done.
The first thing he had to do was figure out how long he had until the day when the original Ackster lost his life. A day or two might not matter much when concerning Acksterâs personal strength. However, he had a special privilege that the original Ackster didnât have.
The privilege of a reader transmigrating into a book they had read until completion. He had even read the side stories, bonus Chapters, and afterword. He liked the original novel and the authorâs way of writing, so he naturally read everything available and then some.
With enough time to prepare, Ackster felt that he should be capable of figuring out a way to survive.
Forfeiting or trying to run away wouldnât work. If Ackster forfeited, The Hero would just make him disappear later on. And it would be the same if he tried to run away. In fact, running away might even speed up how quickly he died since The Hero wouldnât have to bother hiding his traces or the evidence of his murder.
Ackster shivered just thinking about it. No, forfeiting or running wouldnât do. He had to fight The Hero in the battle to which the original Ackster had challenged him. And he had to lose. Not that he had any choice.
Winning or surviving through the battle, however unlikely it was that Ackster would achieve any of them, would only lead to the same ending as forfeiting. He would die. The Hero couldnât stand anyone showing him hostility to the point where he killed pickpockets who didnât like getting caught.
Ackster, who had openly challenged The Hero to a death battle after displaying hostility and disrespect, naturally deserved death in The Heroâs eyes. And if Ackster turned out to be stronger than The Hero and could actually pose a threat to him? There was no way The Hero would let him live.
Of course, if Ackster had been overwhelmingly stronger than The Hero, he might be able to gain some time before his death.
But, no matter how strong he was, he couldnât kill The Hero, regardless of the circumstances. And it wasnât only due to The Heroâs skills.
The Hero was the existence meant to protect the world against The Calamity. Killing him would be the same as dooming the world. Not even his own parents would want to defend Ackster against the retaliation of the empire, the kingdoms, and the church if that happened.
To begin with, The Hero, backed by all those forces and then some, as well as his own talent, which was lauded as the greatest in all of history, wasnât someone Ackster, who had slacked off like a deadbeat his entire life could compete with in a battle.
Ackster rubbed his forehead and sighed. No matter what happened, even if it were something logically impossible, Ackster was really slated to die.
Ackster let his head fall through his hands and onto the desk with a soft thud. He had been sitting and writing down what he knew about the novelâs story and the world of Millmeria where it took place. As he felt lost, his thoughts wandered. But they didnât wander far, and he was stuck on how he would die in less than a weekâs time.
Unable to figure out a way to live, Ackster snuck over to the door, where he crouched down. He waited for someone, hopefully gossipy maids, to pass by. Maybe if he knew how little time he had left, it would help him try to find a way to survive his encounter with The Hero.
Thankfully, the Phileam House lived in a big mansion that required a lot of maids, and Ackster didnât have to wait long before a couple passed by outside his room. Ackster was worried that they wouldnât talk, much less say anything about the deadline for his fight with The Hero.
True to Acksterâs worries, the maids softened their footsteps when they neared his door. They also stopped talking completely. Ackster was about to sigh and head back to the desk.
The maidsâ attitude made it more than clear that trying to eavesdrop on the maids wouldnât work. The original Ackster had probably made sure the maids hardly even dared to breathe while walking past his room. And if they didnât even dare to breathe too loudly, there was no way they would spread gossip about Acksterâs upcoming death.
However, right when Ackster was about to sigh, his ears picked something up. He thought the maids had already left the range of how far he could hear.
That was when Ackster remembered the original Acksterâs only good quality, his skill. It did a lot of things, and one of them was to increase his senses. When Ackster focused on his hearing and put his ear to the door, he heard the maids talk far down the hallway.
"Itâs almost a shame the young master is leaving us in three days."
"What? Itâs a blessing that the young master decided to kill himself using The Great and Honorable Hero."
"Oh, donât get me wrong. Iâm not gonna miss him. Iâm gonna miss the compensation the Lord gives us whenever the young master throws a tantrum."
"I guess thatâs true. And I guess âclumsyâ maids like you got a lot of compensation, considering how many times the young master got angry at you."
The maids giggled and continued talking, but they left earshot. And Ackster had already gotten the information he wanted. He ignored the maidsâ opinions of the previous Ackster since they had nothing to do with him.
âThree days.â
Thatâs how much time he had left. And since the fight would happen a couple of hours after breakfast. Ackster had exactly three days and three nights to prepare.
"Shit."