Ackster had come up with an idea on how he could solve his predicament. But he still ran through his options to see if he could find another way with greater odds of success.
However, he didn't find any way that seemed nearly as feasible as the idea he got from realizing The Hero's objective in Degrest. It felt weird to be thankful toward the person who would kill him, so Ackster didn't bother feeling any gratitude. Instead, he got right to work planning how he would go about faking his death.
He sat down with his pen at the ready so that he could organize his thoughts and plans. However, the loud rumbling of his stomach stopped him from proceeding. Ackster quickly scribbled down his thoughts so that he didn't forget them. Meanwhile, he began thinking about what his hunger had made him realize.
There were still three days left until his battle with The Hero, three days he would have to spend inside the Phileam House's estate. Since he had to prepare for when he faked his death, Ackster would have to sneak out. But he had to do it in a way that no one noticed. If they did, they would probably assume he was trying to run away. And if it were The Hero, he wouldn't need to fake his death since he would already be dead.
Even now, Ackster guessed that his House was on guard to make sure that he didn't try and flee. Forfeiting would be understandable, even if it brought some shame. But running away was a coward's choice that would stain the honor of the entire House, not just Ackster's already ground-level reputation.
The hard-earned honor and wealth that Ackster's parents had built up during their lives would be mostly for naught. First, their tragically deadbeat son impudently challenges The Hero to a death battle without knowing his place. And then, without even daring to face the consequences of his actions or even daring to admit his rash decision and own weakness, Ackster runs away.
Something like that was bound to create loads of trouble for the House's future business. It might not have mattered if Ackster had just challenged another noble's son, as long as they didn't come from a too high-ranking family. But after challenging The Hero, the entire world was watching.
Well, maybe not the entire world since The Hero was still young, and he regularly dealt with small fries that popped up while he was out on missions. But the Phileam House would still be pretty doomed, especially within the Badhurst Kingdom.
If the Phileam Baron House's only son ran away after challenging The Hero to a battle, no one would want to deal with them in the future. In order to prevent that, Ackster was sure that Baron Mikhail Phileam had secured a perimeter around the estate.
Thankfully, the Phileams had only had a single generation to build up their wealth and renown, so their soldiers weren't anything outstanding, just well-trained men and women. There weren't even any proper Knights, as far as Ackster knew.
In that case, Ackster, with his skill, should be able to sneak out during the night and take care of the preparations for the battle. But during the days, he still had to be seen around the house. And his rumbling stomach was evidence that he needed to eat.
And, although the novel hadn't explicitly said anything about it, Ackster could guess that he would have to eat a lot due to how his skill worked. So, he also might have to appear at mealtimes with the rest of the family. And, at the moment, he had to go to the kitchen and snag some leftovers.
However, Ackster couldn't sow any suspicions about him. His family, The Hero, and The Hero's party all had to believe that everything was as it was supposed to be. The fainted hunch of something being wrong might prompt The Hero into making sure that there was no funny business going on. And Ackster's method of faking his death probably wouldn't hold up under the intense scrutiny of The Hero and his party.
Ackster had to make sure that things proceeded without anyone thinking anything strange was going on or that he had faked his death.
Ackster challenged The Hero and didn't show any remorse or regret until he died. He went about his life as usual, which meant that he kept treating the people around him like shit while only caring about his own temporary satisfaction. That was what people would believe afterward.
The book hadn't gone into detail about how bad the original Ackster had been. But the maids' gossip had given him an idea. And for some reason, Ackster felt like his body knew what to do. It might be a side-effect of his skill, or it might just be that the original Ackster was such a dirtbag that his behavior had become part of his muscle memory.
Resolved to treat the people around him like shit, even at the cost of his conscience, Ackster left the room. Compared to losing his life, making a few people suffer verbal abuse was nothing.
Ackster put on a scowl as he closed the door behind him and started walking through the empty hallway. He took in as much of his surroundings as possible in case he found something that would help him or interfere with his plans.
But the only things he found in the hallway were decorations like paintings and vases. He considered poking his head through the occasional doors he found but didn't want to risk it. And he just followed his feet as they guided him toward the kitchen.
Eventually, he picked up the scent of food, and his nose helped the feet the last bit. Ackster had walked down a stair and through a couple of winding hallways. But it wasn't a maze, and he had started figuring out the mansion's floor plan, which he would need when he tried sneaking out.
Ackster kept looking around as he walked, glaring at the maids he came across. He even took a small threatening step forward when the maids or butlers came too close. His body had practically moved on its own at that moment. And Ackster had scared a maid into dropping the basket she carried without even noticing what happened at first.
Ackster reached the kitchen, bustling with activity, without anyone blocking him. Although breakfast had just ended, it seemed like the chefs were already preparing lunch.
The chefs and kitchen assistants noticed Ackster's arrival, but they pretended not to as they tried to make themselves invisible while still continuing to cook or prepare the food.
Ackster looked around until he found a table with a few half-cold dishes on top. He guessed that they were the leftovers, but he didn't walk toward them. He had a hard time believing that the original Ackster obediently accepted cold leftovers.
"You."
Ackster pointed toward one of the young kitchen assistants. Someone that would be an easy target for a bully. The young kitchen assistant nervously looked at Ackster's feet.
"Young master…?"
"I have personally come here to accept the food you all make. Why aren't you offering it to me while bowing in gratitude, you glue-eating greaseball?"