Ackster somehow managed to take a shower and clean up any trace that he had left the room last night before he collapsed on his bed like a house of cards. When he fell asleep, Ackster didn't doubt that he would sleep the rest of the day away. He was tired from staying up so long, dealing with the shock of transmigrating, and coming so close to death on his first outing. Exhaustion was barely even enough to begin to describe how Ackster felt.
However, he still rose relatively early in the morning. And the knock on the door soon alerted him as to why. He had smelled the scent of food even in his sleep, which triggered his hunger. His aching and empty stomach woke him up because he smelled food coming up the stairs.
It would have been embarrassing if he hadn't been too hungry to feel shame. So, while clutching his stomach, Ackster tottered over to the door and opened it to the sight of a delicious-looking meal. Although that didn't mean much since his hunger made even the plate the food was on look tasty.
Ackster practically tore the tray with food and drink out of the kitchen staff's hands and was about to slam the door shut before the kitchen staff could even say his thanks. However, he stopped himself and opened the door right before it closed.
"Do you think this is enough, shitface? Bring me more. Now and later."
Ackster was too hungry to bother tormenting the kitchen staff, so he threw out an insult before chasing him away.
Ackster quickly walked over to the desk and began devouring the food like there was no tomorrow. And when he finished, he could barely wait until the kitchen staff returned with another two plates. A thought that the kid was good at reading situations and deserved a raise flashed through Ackster's mind, but only until he saw the food.
This time, Ackster didn't even bother saying anything and just slammed the door shut in the kitchen staff's face.
After eating three fully stacked plates of food, Ackster felt sated enough to last until the next time the kitchen staff would be coming by. So, with his belly filled and hunger sated, Ackster considered going back to bed and resting up to prepare for the night.
But now that he was awake, he might as well inspect his condition. The only reason he could be so unbearably hungry was if his skill had continued working through the night. And Strong Body appeared to have done some impressive work.
Ackster's primary worry was his broken arm, which wasn't fully healed yet. But he could tell that it was on the way to mending itself, despite Ackster forgetting to splint it before going to bed. It didn't feel like it would be able to hold his body weight just yet. But Ackster felt amazed that his body had done something in one night that would take ordinary people up to two weeks or more. And this was when his skill had barely been trained beyond its initial stage. What would happen if the skill was allowed to reach its full potential? Wouldn't he become unkillable?
Ackster waved away any delusions of grandeur and checked the scratch marks from the goblin's poisoned claws. They weren't completely recovered, probably because of the remaining poison. It also looked like they would leave behind scars, unlike the hole on his arm that was healing nicely. But the scars were on the side of his chest, which was usually hidden beneath a shirt, so there wasn't really anything to worry about regarding that.
Unfortunately, Ackster didn't have a way to check if the poison remained in any way or if there was something that his body couldn't work through. However, he felt fine, so he just decided to assume he was, at least for the moment.
After eating and checking his body, Ackster went over to the bed again to sleep until it was time for the next meal. After sating his hunger, his exhaustion revealed itself. And when it came to recovering, sleeping was just as important as eating, especially when he was going to go out again during the night.
Since he had lost an entire night of searching due to the goblin, Ackster would have to redouble his efforts during the second night. He was also worried about how difficult it would be to sneak out on the third and final night since it was the most likely time he would escape.
Both The Hero and Mikhail Phileam would probably be keeping an eye out in their own ways to see if Ackster would escape. If he got caught, it would mean his last chance to save his life had been wrenched out of his hands, and Ackster would be forced to face death at the hands of The Hero.
In order to make his second attempt as successful as possible, Ackster decided to sleep and rest up during the day. Since he was still tired from his first attempt, he needed as much rest as possible. Hopefully, his arm would recover before darkness fell.
When Ackster woke up the next time, it was because of the knocks on his door. Since he could smell food, Ackster got up and walked to the door. He put on his best frown as he prepared to insult the kitchen staff while taking the food. He had to make up for going so easy on him the previous time.
While he walked to the door, Ackster's subconscious was telling him that something was wrong. But he was a little groggy after sleeping in the middle of the day, and he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
It wasn't weird since the thing that pricked his senses wasn't something he would have noticed in his old body unless he was extremely used to the different sounds.
The person knocking on his door this time wasn't the same kitchen staff that usually came. The knocks were a little gentler but, at the same time, more powerful.
However, Ackster only figured it out when he grabbed the handle and opened the door.
"Who knew my son was such a foodie? Won't open the door unless it's food."
Ackster's mother pushed open the door and stepped inside while carrying the tray of food in one hand.
"Why don't we have a little chat, Ackster."