Ang wished he had not woken up at this moment.
If he had not regained consciousness, he would not have to face such an agonizingly awkward situation.
His mind was completely blank. Memories of his past life, which had suddenly flooded back, battered his brain in relentless waves. At the same time, the reality unfolding right before his eyes served as a sharp, jarring shock, making Ang deeply resent his own resilience. Why could he not just pass right back out?
Setting those memories aside for now, Ang shoved them into a dusty corner of his mind. He rubbed his temples and cautiously propped himself up, hardly daring to look at the person lying beside him.
Indeed, someone else was lying next to him. Moreover, he was not in his own inn bed; he was in a stranger’s bed.
How had another person ended up beside him? The moment Ang recalled what happened last night, he desperately wished he could take an eraser and scrub the memory clean.
Yet the lingering discomfort across his body and the figure resting beside him were unmistakable reminders. Even if he wiped away the memory, reality would not change, and it was not as though he possessed the time reversal magic that only Archmages could cast.
Flushing crimson, Ang scrunched his face up in sheer embarrassment as the events of the previous night played back in his head.
Yesterday had been the National Day of the Lemon Kingdom. Even in this small settlement situated on the edge of the Rice Forest, the festive atmosphere had been exceptionally lively.
Calling it a mere town was almost an understatement; it was far wealthier than most other frontier settlements across the realm. The Rice Forest was the largest expanse of woodland on the entire continent, teeming with rich magical herbs and monstrous beasts. Countless adventurers passed through daily, and their presence naturally fueled the town’s prosperity.
So when National Day arrived, local merchants hosted all sorts of promotional events. Come evening, a grand dance broke out in the central square, accompanied by free tasting stalls showcasing brand new delicacies.
As an impoverished orphan who had to pinch every copper, and who was due to enroll at Grenor Academy, the most prestigious institution on the continent, all of Ang’s meager savings could barely cover his tuition. Naturally, he had made a beeline for the square to indulge in some free food and drinks.
Admittedly, the complimentary fare tasted quite good. Ang nibbled a bit here and sampled a bit there, quickly filling his stomach to the brim.
He had originally intended to head straight back to his inn to sleep, but a tasting stall with a massive queue curling behind it caught his eye.
Although he lacked the coin to purchase lavish delicacies, the insignia displayed over the booth was impossible to miss. It belonged to an exorbitant, premier luxury brand: Norma Foods.
Even the cheapest snack offered by Norma Foods cost an entire day of living expenses for Ang. Now that they were handing out free samples, there was no way he would pass it up.
He needed to see what kind of new delicacy Norma Foods had concocted, and whether it was truly worth its astronomical price tag.
Shortly after queuing up, Ang received a small, paper wrapped morsel.
Even for a free sample, the wrapping paper radiated a faint trace of water element magic. It had clearly been treated with frost spells to maintain a cooling effect for up to a year.
As expected of the most expensive gourmet brand, Ang marveled internally. Tearing open the packaging, he eagerly shoved the brittle, dark brown block into his mouth.
Upon tasting it, Ang’s eyes lit up instantly. The moment it hit his tongue, he realized it was not crunchy at all; within moments, it melted into a velvety texture as smooth as the finest silk.
Only then did Ang inspect the empty wrapper to read the name printed upon it: Chocolate.
Why did that name look familiar?
At the time, Ang had not yet awakened his past life memories and had no idea what chocolate actually was. But it was undeniably exquisite: rich, sweet, and possessing a truly unique texture. Once he swallowed it, he wanted nothing more than to grab another piece.
Unfortunately, it was strictly one per customer.
Norma Foods went so far as to employ mages just to distribute the samples. With their razor sharp memories, Ang knew he would be caught the moment he rejoined the queue and promptly thrown out.
He had no desire to humiliate himself like that.
So, Ang decided to return to his shabby little room at the inn.
Yet as he squeezed through the dense crowd, a strange sensation began to take hold. His body grew uncomfortably hot, his head spun with dizzying lethargy, and his stomach churned with a faint, restless ache.
Assuming the chocolate carried some odd magical side effect, Ang picked up his pace to get back sooner.
That was when his dazed, blurred vision led him straight into someone.
What followed afterward was enough to make Ang steam with utter mortification.
Why on earth had he thrown his arms around the stranger? Why had he rubbed himself all over him?
Moreover, he had kissed the man’s face!
Everything past that point was a chaotic blur. Even racking his brain now, Ang could only conclude he had completely lost his sanity. He had no idea how they ended up in this room, nor how they wound up rolling between the sheets together.
That man did not even resist; he was definitely taking advantage of the situation.
Then again, was Ang not practically delivering himself to his doorstep on a silver platter?
Ang turned his head toward the sleeping man, and the indignation bubbling within him evaporated almost instantly.
The stranger’s face was genuinely breathtaking. Even through the critical lens of someone who had grown up in a modern information era saturated with handsome faces, Ang could not deny this man’s striking appeal.
He had the kind of looks that could propel someone straight to stardom in cinema without a shred of acting talent.
Having tangled beneath the sheets in such a muddled daze, Ang honestly could not say who had taken advantage of whom.
Perhaps the man was simply a scumbag with a pretty face. Ang rationalized the thought, letting the whole chaotic ordeal slide purely on account of those devastating good looks.
His technique left a lot to be desired, however. Grimacing in pain, Ang carefully eased himself off the mattress.
The man had been absurdly strong, and Ang’s backside ached terribly.
Waking up face to face would be far too humiliating. Ang had to sneak away before the man stirred.
Should he leave some money behind? However, leaving cash might make things feel exceedingly strange.
Weighing his options, Ang decided to treat it as an ordinary one night stand. He just needed to gather his belongings and vanish from this mortifying scene.
However, just as Ang bent down to gather his clothes from the floor, a jolt of soreness shot through his waist, and he felt something trickle out.
Ang’s expression darkened instantly. His absolute top priority right now was casting a Cleansing Spell.
Could a Cleansing Spell clean the inside as well?
A rudimentary bodily cleansing spell was simple enough for any apprentice mage to cast without a staff. The moment he sensed the dampness, Ang quietly murmured the incantation.
The mess that had leaked out was taken care of, but what remained inside was definitely still there.
Ang felt pure despair wash over him. What was he supposed to do in this situation?
He stood upright and scanned the room, finally noticing an en suite washroom. Forgetting all about keeping quiet, he bolted straight inside.
Merlin was jarred awake. The sharp click of a closing door snapped his eyes open.
Greeting him was a familiar room, the very inn chamber where he had stayed for the past several days.
His head pounded with a dull throb, and his body felt strangely off.
Then Merlin caught the sound of running water coming from the washroom, though this room should only have him inside.
Merlin sat bolt upright. He reached for his staff by instinct, only to realize it was not on the nightstand beside his pillow.
Looking down, Merlin noticed clothes strewn chaotically across the floor. Some were distinctly his, while others were completely foreign.
He cast his gaze down toward his exposed chest, only to find sharp red scratches scoring across his skin.
Merlin’s mind went blank, and the previous night’s events came crashing back.
Yesterday, he had just returned from the Rice Forest. Noticing something amiss with his body, he had planned to head straight back to the inn to conduct a thorough examination. He had not anticipated the town square would be overflowing with National Day festivities. Attempting to cut across the packed crowd, he was abruptly obstructed and wound up colliding with someone.
What ensued after that turned Merlin’s face utterly grim. He could not fathom why he had reacted the way he did; when the other person clung to him, he had not pushed him away. In the end, he had actually dragged the stranger back to his room and tumbled into bed with him.
Could that person have cast some kind of enchantment spell on him?
With a stormy countenance, Merlin cast a Cleansing Spell over himself first. He fished his staff out from the tangle of discarded clothing on the floor, used it to purify and don his attire, and locked a frigid stare onto the washroom where the water was still running.
The stranger dared to take a bath in his room. Was he entirely fearless?
Deeply unnerved, Merlin raised his staff to cast a diagnostic spell over his body. Nothing was wrong.
Could it be that his own rank was insufficient, and the stranger’s magic was so bizarre and elevated that he simply could not detect it?
Merlin tensed completely, debating whether he should kick the door down and launch an ambush.
Suddenly, a voice rang out:
“Finally cleaned out! Why the hell did that bastard push so deep? Packing that much length for no good reason has to be a medical condition!”
Merlin’s eyes widened in sheer disbelief.
Was the person inside talking to himself?
If he were speaking aloud, the voice should have sounded distant and muffled through the solid door.
Instead, Merlin heard it resonate crisp and clear, directly inside his own skull.
What kind of magic did this person use on him?
Then, a beat later, the full meaning of those words finally caught up with Merlin. His emotions twisted into a thoroughly baffled knot; he felt he ought to be furious, yet he could not quite bring himself to flare up.
It was not as though he chose to be that large on a whim.
It was entirely natural. He was not like those absurd fools who concocted suspicious potions promising to make themselves as hung as a stallion. Whenever those unverified, experimental concoctions backfired, the member would instantly balloon to monstrous proportions, shocking the users and remaining stubbornly irreversible. Those idiots were forced to wrap it around their waists like belts, and more than a few had ended up suffering the agonizing pain of a severed cock during careless street brawls.