As I massaged my employer's lower back, my mind ran through ways to extract information and—if things went south—escape. That's what I should have been doing, anyway, if not for the constant chatter in my head from my oh-so "helpful" guardian.
"Ara~ you're so baaad. Let me guess: you'll seduce her, make her fall hopelessly in love with you, then get her to spill all the Rothschild family secrets and maybe the other great families too?"
Laura's high, mocking voice sounded like a middle-schooler sneaking a look at her first R-rated novel.
'No,' I shot back telepathically, though her plan did have appeal. 'Too messy. I need something cleaner. Keep massaging until she trusts me. Leave without creating enemies while I try to survive and grow stronger — if I even get that far.'
I muttered the last part under my breath.
Laura, unimpressed, replied in a bored tone: "Well, that's no fun."
My mouth twitched. 'My survival isn't supposed to be fun, Laura.'
I refocused on Miriam. She'd been unusually quiet, which struck me as odd, but before I could wonder too much—
I froze.
The proud, condescending Miriam had started fidgeting, rubbing her legs together as if restless. Not ideal—she was supposed to be my information ticket. I willed my skill [Magic Fingers] off.
---
[Skill has been deactivated]
The host can reactivate this skill at any time by simply thinking its name.
I don't know what you're planning, but you're sure being dumb →_→
---
I ignored the jab from my system and glanced down. Miriam's body calmed as the effect faded: the blush eased, her trembling steadied, and she looked more confused than embarrassed. I wasn't going to reveal my hand this early.
"Madam, is everything all right?" I asked politely, keeping my tone respectful as my hands worked.
Not to brag, but I was damn good at this. A stiff body like hers was a treat; I wasn't about to lose a chance to gather information.
"Ooooh—" Miriam made a soft noise of relief as I loosened the knots in her back. Perfect timing.
"Um… Miss Miriam," I said, still working her muscles.
"Hm? Wha—oooh… what is it?" she asked between small exhalations, melting under my touch.
'Honestly, I could get a job as a masseuse if this whole "main character" thing flops,' I thought, suppressing a laugh.
"When I passed out… I lost some memories," I lied, sweat beading at my temple. "Could you help fill in the blanks?"
I wasn't good at lying. This was new territory.
"Sure. Ask away — but don't stop massaging." Miriam's voice dropped to a low murmur as she rested her cheek on one hand, clearly relaxed.
'Yes!' I screamed inside. Her answer felt like a blessing.
"So, where are we? The kingdom?" I asked.
Laura, predictably, was silent. She'd refused to give basic mission info. Her line: 'Figure things out yourself, silly—I'm here only so you don't die, tee-hee.'
Annoying.
"The memory loss must've been bad. No problem. We're in the Rothschild manor—the third most powerful family in the human domain," Miriam said, pride curving her lips.
She went on. "There are five other major families, plus countless smaller ones I can't be bothered to remember. For the big names: Vandemire — red-haired types, always hunting test subjects. Avoid them. Decker — low-key, but trouble if crossed. Ashcroft — my mother's line, decent enough. Gravesend — necromancers; don't go near them alone. And finally, the Belvedan family. They're royals. King Matthew Belvedan rules the domain."
I filed her words away while working her back. Laura said nothing—probably waiting for me to connect the dots.
"Thanks—" I started.
"Miriam. Call me Miriam. I hate 'Madam,'" she interrupted.
'Even better,' I thought.
"So, can you tell me about other kingdoms?"
Even if she refused, I wouldn't be upset; she'd already given me more than I hoped. Instead, she sat up, stretched, and smirked.
"That's too much work. How about I just transfer the memories to you?"
"Memory transfer?" I echoed, startled. 'Right. Fantasy world rules apply.'
"Yeah. Relax your mind, and—"
Two fingers pressed to my forehead.
Pain.
Burning, bone-deep pain ripped through me before she finished the sentence.
'Wait—this is what novel MCs feel when they get power-ups? But I'm just… getting memories?'
Fragments of raw knowledge forced their way into my skull.
---
[Memory Transfer in Progress]
[Error: Insufficient Mental Capacity]
[Forcefully expanding mental capacity… Success]
[Memories accepted from Character #261od]
[Sync 1%… 20%… 50%… 100% Complete]
[Host has successfully received memory files.]
[Ding! Congratulations — host completed first hidden mission!]
[Calculating reward…]
"Well, you didn't die," Laura finally chimed in, smug as always. "I'll call that progress."