Ren stared at the face in the mirror, a face both familiar and strange, as his thoughts drifted away.
It had been a week.
The arc of his eyebrows, the shallow scar on his chin from a childhood fall, even the tiny circular birthmark on his left earlobe—everything was exactly as he remembered.
And yet, he had the persistent feeling that this wasn’t quite him.
“Otherworld Counterpart,” he whispered, reciting the term from his new memories.
A week ago, he had woken up as “Ren.” It wasn’t a soul transmigration or a possession.
It felt more like two lives had suddenly merged.
The memories of this world and his original memories were like two reels of film projected onto the same screen; sometimes, it was hard to tell which was which.
In this world, he had parents, a home, and eighteen years of ordinary growth.
But this world also had “Convergence Worlds” that had begun appearing six months ago.
Every first of the month, interdimensional portals would open.
People could bring back items from these realms without suffering real-world injuries—a grand, mysterious adventure.
Meanwhile, his original world possessed countless works of fiction and entertainment that this world lacked.
“So, what am I now?” Ren tugged at the corner of his mouth in the mirror.
“A prophet who knows the script?
That’s too cliché.
If I’m an Otherworld Counterpart, I should at least get a decent cheat.”
The sound of the television drifted in from the living room.
When he walked out, the news was broadcasting AI-generated images based on information brought back from a Convergence World yesterday.
Experts were busy analyzing the characteristics of this new realm.
“Based on information from previous explorers, we can confirm this world possesses long-lived races and a highly developed magical civilization.
Mages have their own specialized magic, and there was once a Hero…”
“We have created an AI-synthesized short film based on survivor data to help everyone understand better.”
“The Demon King has been defeated, but remnant demon forces are still active.
Among them, the remaining members of the ‘Seven Sages of Destruction’ require special caution…”
Ren sat on the sofa, his mind rapidly piecing the fragments together.
A Hero existed, the Demon King was dead, but the Seven Sages were still around.
Every mage had a specialized magic…
This setup was all too familiar.
“Ren,” his mother called out, sticking her head out of the kitchen.
“Are you getting ready to go in tonight?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t be nervous,” his father added, putting down his mop.
“Your mother and I went in before.
Just treat it like a vacation.
There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“Ren, have you made a guide based on the info others brought back?
If you’re really not sure, let’s wait for next month’s story dungeon.
It’s only a few days away.”
“Dad, Mom, have a little faith.
I’ve been making gaming guides since I was a kid.” Ren patted his chest.
His parents had entered a Convergence World in the second month of its appearance during an “Open Mode” event.
They had wandered around, accomplished nothing, and were eventually caught in the crossfire of a massive battle.
Their rating was so low they didn’t even hit Wild-rank, causing them to lose their eligibility permanently.
It remained a minor regret in the family.
After dinner, they shared a cake for his eighteenth birthday.
Once finished, Ren returned to his room.
Sitting on the edge of his bed, he thought about the online discussions.
The people of this world didn’t know *Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End*.
They didn’t know any of the stories he grew up with.
They were true explorers, piecing together the map of the other world through trial and error.
But he knew the plot.
Being a prophet really did have its perks.
Ren stopped overthinking and closed his eyes.
His consciousness reached out to the presence that had suddenly appeared in the minds of all humanity.
His wrist began to burn.
Faint golden lines emerged, spinning and solidifying into the pattern of a Great Sun.
[Sense Received]
[Convergence World: Unnamed (Code H-07)]
[Mode: Non-Open (Solo)]
[Equipment Rating: Wild-rank]
[Identity Generating…]
[Talent Activating…]
A flash of information appeared in his mind:
[Youth from a remote town in the Northern Kingdoms.
Identity Ability: Swordsmanship Talent (Wild-rank)]
[Talent: Physique of a Hundred Faces]
Ren pondered the two lines.
Rankings were divided into eight tiers: Heaven, Earth, Mystic, Yellow, Universe, Aeon, Primal, and Wild.
Newcomers were given a free starter kit of the lowest Wild-rank to match their identity.
If he didn’t achieve at least a Wild-rank rating during this run, he wouldn’t get another chance to enter a Convergence World.
So far, it seemed no one had ever reached a Heaven-rank rating.
He had heard a rumor that someone claimed an Earth-rank rating two worlds ago, which had caused quite a stir.
As for Talents, he had seen rumors online about a few lucky individuals awakening them.
It turned out to be true.
Was he some kind of chosen one?
Then again, since he was an Otherworld Counterpart, maybe this was normal.
With that thought, Ren tried to link his mind to the Talent, but no information came through.
“I have to figure it out myself?”
As for his identity…
a swordsman?
In a world that revolved around the story of a mage?
It wasn’t that he couldn’t train as a swordsman—the Hero’s party had incredible frontline fighters, and the Hero of the South was an absolute monster—but being a “mage lord” was clearly the more lucrative path.
His gaze fell on a small line of text in the bottom right: [Newcomer Privilege: One free identity/talent reroll.
Subsequent rerolls require Rating Points.]
“Let’s gamble.
I have the plot as my safety net anyway,” he thought.
He tapped the option.
the words blurred, spun, and reorganized.
New Options:
[Mimic (Monster).
Talent: Contract Magic (Entry-level)]
Ren froze.
A Mimic?
A low-level demon minion that disguised itself as a treasure chest to trap prey.
This identity was arguably worse than the small-town boy.
But Contract Magic…
He stroked his chin, thinking.
Contract Magic wasn’t combat-oriented, but in a world so wary of demons, a contract might allow for more versatile development and make it easier to intervene in the plot.
“Fine.” He clicked confirm.
“I don’t have another choice anyway.” Since he had never been to a Convergence World, he had zero points for more rerolls.
The world spun.
His consciousness felt like it had been tossed into a washing machine.
The nauseating sensation didn’t last long.
Ren steadied himself after a few seconds and tried to control his body to see and hear his surroundings.
Instead, he felt a strange sensory radiation emanating from him.
He was in a damp stone chamber.
He could hear the sound of dripping water.
There seemed to be some coins of an unknown currency inside his body.
He was a treasure chest that looked entirely out of place in his surroundings, tucked into the corner of the room.
He had a wooden shell, metal hinges, and internal gears and metal teeth, along with a retractable tongue.
“I really am a box.” He tried to move, but he remained rooted to the spot.
A Mimic’s body didn’t support movement unless…
He sensed the Contract Magic talent.
He could feel a certain “engraved” structure within him.
Wait.
Footsteps were approaching.
They were light, coming from the end of the corridor.
So soon?
He had only just arrived.
But as a figure appeared at the entrance of the chamber, Ren started to panic.
Silver hair, emerald eyes, a petite frame, pointed ears, mage robes, and a staff in hand.
That cold, detached image was exactly like the one in Ren’s memory.
Frieren.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Encountering the protagonist right at the start?
My luck is definitely cursed.
“Wait, this is bad!
I’m going to die!
She loves opening Mimics more than anything.
I can swallow her once, but then what?
I’ll get blasted to a crisp with an explosion spell!”
“I just landed.
I haven’t done anything yet.
If I die now, there’s no way I’ll get a Wild-rank rating.
What then?
Will I be barred from the Convergence Worlds forever?”
Countless thoughts raced through Ren’s mind, but she didn’t stop.
She entered the room, her gaze sweeping calmly across the area before landing on the Mimic.
She paused, walked over, and knelt down.
A pale finger reached for the latch.
Ren’s monster instincts instantly took over.
It wasn’t that he wanted to; it was a completely autonomous reaction.
*Click.* The moment the latch popped.
The lid flew open.
His tongue shot out like a spring, wrapping around her wrist and yanking hard.
There was a short gasp.
The white-clad figure was dragged entirely into the chest.
*Snap!* The lid slammed shut.
Darkness.
Cramped quarters.
The petite body filled the internal space, pressed tightly against the Mimic’s fleshy inner walls.
Ren was stunned for a moment.
He had actually swallowed Frieren?
He forced himself to calm down.
Frieren loved unknown magic—he still had a chance.
Negotiate, now!
He tried to use his vocal organs to produce muffled syllables.
“Con…
tract…” It was his first time speaking with this body, and it felt clumsy.
The person inside the box had been struggling violently, but she suddenly stopped.
She seemed surprised.
After all, low-level monsters like Mimics were different from proper demons; they rarely spoke.
“Non…
aggression…
treaty,” Ren said, his voice growing smoother as he adapted to the Mimic’s vocal cords.
“I have no intention of harming anyone.
I am struggling against my demonic nature.
I know Contract Magic.
Sign a contract; I will teach you this magic, and you will ensure my safety.
I want to escape this bloodthirsty instinct.”
Silence.
A few seconds passed.
“Demons are not to be trusted.
However, if I can set the terms of this Contract Magic myself, I will consider it,” a calm voice came from inside the box.
Ren activated his talent.
Faint purple magical lines emerged on the fleshy inner walls of the chest, glowing in the dimness.
The terms of the Contract Magic were displayed.
“You must ensure you teach me the magic in its entirety.
And add a clause: no harming humans.”
Frieren sounded a bit uncomfortable being squashed, her voice slightly winded.
She gripped her staff, seemingly losing her patience.
“What if someone attacks me and doesn’t believe I’m well-intentioned?
I demand the right to counterattack.”
“Then your counterattack cannot cause death.
Furthermore, you cannot lie to me.”
“Fine.
Thank you.
I agree.” Sensing that Frieren was on the verge of casting a spell, Ren agreed immediately.
The lines flared again.
The agreed-upon terms, carried by a trickle of mana, seeped out of the Mimic and entered the body of the white-haired elf inside.
The elf seemed to hesitate, evaluating the sensation, before the mana circuits within the Mimic’s body glowed brightly.
The contract was established.
“Now, spit me out,” the voice said.
Ren controlled the Mimic body he wasn’t yet familiar with, opening his teeth and releasing the coil of his tongue.
*Thwack.*
The white-clad figure was spat out, landing on the ground.
There was some slime on her mage robes.
Frieren stood up.
After chanting a quick spell, her clothes were clean, though her face still carried a hint of distaste.
Footsteps echoed from the corridor.
A figure ran in—a teenage girl with long purple hair, wearing mage robes and carrying a staff.
“Master Frieren!” Fern panted.
“I told you to identify these chests before opening them.
You’ve gone and…
Huh?”
She looked at her master, then at the slime on the ground, and finally at the Mimic that hadn’t been charred to a crisp.
“A Mimic,” Frieren said.
“We made a contract.”
“A contract?
Master Frieren, aren’t you going to dispose of it?”
“I can’t during the contract period.” Frieren looked at the chest.
“He knows Contract Magic and will teach it to me.
This magic is very rare; it’s worth learning.”
She raised her staff and began to chant toward the chest.
Magical light enveloped Ren.
“Wait, what are you doing?
We have a contract!
The one who violates it loses all their mana…
this…
this is…”
Ren panicked at first, but the strange sensation spreading through his body made his voice trail off.
The Mimic began to soften, deform, and reorganize.
Three seconds later, Ren stood in the stone chamber.
He was in human form, wearing simple, plain cloth clothes.
With black hair and black eyes, he looked like an ordinary human youth.
“Humanization Magic,” Frieren said, lowering her staff.
“It’s a spell I found after defeating the Demon King.
It allows monsters to take human form.
It seems it was originally developed by demons to infiltrate human society.
However, powerful individuals can sense the demonic nature, so it wasn’t very useful for powerful demons who didn’t need to blend in with commoners.
I didn’t think I’d ever use this spell in my life.”
Ren looked down at his hands and clenched his fists.
He could feel the spell constantly drawing a sliver of his mana to maintain the transformation.
The consumption was negligible.
“Follow us,” Frieren said, turning to walk out.
“I happen to be short on luggage carriers.
You can teach me that Contract Magic once we settle down.”
Ren blinked.
Fern trotted after her master, her cheeks puffed out in annoyance.
She shot Ren a glare.
“I’ll be keeping a close eye on you!”
Ren took a deep breath and followed.
*It really is the “Big Mushroom,”* he thought.
It was a surreal feeling—adventuring inside a story from his previous life.
Walking out of the dungeon, he hoisted the luggage Frieren had pointed out.
By now, the sky was beginning to brighten.
Morning light spilled over the distant mountains, and the forest billowed in the wind.
Frieren walked ahead, her long white hair swaying slightly in the morning breeze.
“Have you always…” she spoke suddenly, without looking back, “tried to control your instincts?
Have you ever killed a human?”
Ren’s heart tightened.
According to the contract, he couldn’t lie.
However, he soon felt relieved.
He didn’t know about the Mimic’s past, but *he* certainly hadn’t killed anyone.
“I want to suppress my instincts.
I don’t want to eat people,” Ren said, choosing his words carefully.
“And I have never killed anyone before.”
Frieren was somewhat surprised.
She had felt the power of the contract.
When he had first spat her out, she had intended to use magic to teach him a lesson first.
But the constraint of the contract had actually triggered, forcing her to switch to the cleaning spell instead.
In other words, if there was no loophole in the Contract Magic and he couldn’t lie, then this demon was actually suppressing its instincts and had never killed a human.
She had originally planned to learn the magic, crack it, and then kill the demon…
After all, demons were not to be trusted.
For now, she would wait until she had learned and researched the Contract Magic.
The three of them walked down the mountain path in silence.
Ren looked back at the entrance of the dungeon—an ordinary, inconspicuous cave.
When he turned back, Frieren had already walked some distance away.
Fern followed closely behind, occasionally casting a wary glance back at Ren.
Ren quickened his pace, his mind flooded with thoughts.
It looked like he had entered the timeline where Frieren was traveling with Fern, but before Stark had joined the party.
What year was this in the Post-Himmel Era?
Forget it, the details were a bit fuzzy.
He would figure out his place in the timeline based on what happened next.
This start was ridiculous…
But he looked down at his hands, then at the two figures in mage robes ahead of him.
It didn’t seem so bad.