When he was done, Ackster stretched his arms, shoulders, and wrists. He wasn't really that affected by writing the letters. It just felt appropriate since he had to focus on making the text legible.
'Magical lamps in one corner and quills and ink in the other. Unbelievable.'
Ackster didn't know what to think about how there were magic lamps even better than electricity and things like hot-water showers, but the people in this world didn't use an alternative to old-fashioned feather quills and ink. It had to be easier to make simple pens or pencils using magic than it was to construct an automatic heating and cooling system, right?
Other than making a mental note to use that as a method to earn money in the future, Ackster didn't waste any more time thinking about it. He had to make use of the hours he had left before he had to leave to rest and gather energy.
If things went smoothly, he wouldn't have to do much intensive stuff. But Ackster wanted to prepare for if things didn't go smoothly. Besides, sleeping was the best when one was exhausted.
Ackster rested his head against the pillow while telling his body to wake up in a few hours. He felt like, with Strong Body, he might be able to make his body listen to commands like that.
And he did wake up after a few hours of intense napping. But it wasn't because of his skill. At least, he didn't think so since the knocking on his door and the smell of food told him otherwise.
"Umm, young master? Your dinner is here.
Ackster stopped dragging his feet – he had slept enough – and got up to open the door while fixing his hair and rumpled clothes.
"What, is the food so cold you're telling me to hurry up before you freeze?"
Ackster grabbed the plate before the usual kitchen staff could even react to him opening the door.
"Hmm. It is a little cold. Did you use ice cubes to cook it or what? Maybe it's because of you? You are looking a little pale, you know. You know what's good for limbs that are so cold it affects even my food?"
Ackster glared and looked down at the kitchen staff, who shrunk under the weight of Ackster's angry gaze.
"Oh, you don't?"
The kitchen staff hurriedly shook his head, mostly since he didn't want to hear whatever Ackster was going to say. Of course, that headshaking meant he didn't know the answer to Ackster's question.
And the only feasible way for Ackster to respond to that would be to inform the kitchen staff of that.
"It's exercise. It works wonders when you're cold. Maybe you want to try it? Geez, man, you're even shivering now. Hey, get on the floor."
Ackster leaned in close next to the kitchen staff's face and practically shoved his words into the poor guy's ears. The kitchen worker could only obey. At least he would be able to claim compensation from the lord if Ackster went overboard.
The kitchen worker went down on all fours, waiting for what Ackster would do next in fear.
"I said get on your stomach."
Ackster put his foot on the kitchen staff's back and pushed him to the floor before standing on him.
"Now. Give me ten pushups. Since I care about the well-being of my family's workers, I'll make sure you complete them and regain some warmth, alright?"
The kitchen worker trembled and tried to put his arms in position to do a pushup.
"Hey, what kind of rickety stick-like arms are these? Are you really supposed to be a servant of the Phileam Estate? Are you sure you're not some kind of baby ent?"
The kitchen hand tried to do a push-up while ignoring Ackster's verbal abuse, which admittedly wasn't that bad. However, the weight on his back was, and the kitchen staff realized where all the food the last couple of days had gone.
It was still better than the exercise the kitchen staff had expected. He thought Ackster would demonstrate by using his body as a punching bag. Compared to that, he almost preferred doing the pushups.
Well, he would have preferred it if he could have actually done them. Ackster weighed a ton, and the kitchen staff could only raise his head.
Ackster clicked his tongue and sighed.
"Man, I didn't expect you to be this weak. I don't think even worms, like literal worms, the kind you find in apples, are this weak. Hah~ What has the world come to when disgusting people this weak are allowed to walk around like they are actual human beings."
Ackster gave up and sat down on the kitchen worker's back while he started eating.
'Sorry about this. I just need to cement Ackster's – my – bad reputation. Can't have anyone think I grew soft before my death, can we? I also need to vent some stress about this whole ordeal. I don't think I have thought or worked this hard in a long while. So… Thanks, I guess, for letting me relieve some stress.'
Ackster apologized to and thanked the panting and trembling kitchen worker in his mind while he ate without a care. Since the kitchen worker couldn't even raise his body a single hair's width, Ackster didn't have to worry about any instability while eating.
He briefly realized that he might have gotten a little too used to the original Ackster persona after pretending to be him for a couple of days, especially after treating the kitchen worker like a cushion, both for his body and his words.
He was a little worried, but when he thought about what he would have to do in the future, Ackster realized that the thorniness of the original Ackster would be useful.
But when he noticed the kitchen worker had started shedding silent tears, his conscience showed itself again and took a bite into his heart and the cold layer of thin iron he had put on it while pretending to be the original Ackster.
"Well, at this rate, even my ass is going to get cold. I'll let you off this time, maggot."
The kitchen worker, finally able to breathe properly again, sighed in relief as another wave of tears streaked down his cheeks.
Ackster was about to return to his room after putting the plate on the worker's head.
"Well…?"
"...thank…you."
The kitchen worker fought to let the right words out while looking at the floor.
"That's right. Don't forget to show gratitude to your superiors, worm."
Ackster closed the door while showing off a mocking grin to the worker.
His face twisted and relaxed as soon as he was alone and no one could see him.
'That might have been a little overboard… but, now, he'll at least be very happy tomorrow.'
Ackster decided to make use of the fact that the servants, especially the poor guy he had traumatized the last few days, would be happy to see him die, even if it was merely his doppelganger, to justify his cruelty.