The next time Xidriel opened his eyes again, he found himself laying on a rather thin mattress, with a pillow supporting his head and a thin sheet of blanket covering him up to the chest.

He groaned as he pushed himself up from the bed, noticing that his torso is bare yet again, with clean bandages wrapped around his abdomen and shoulders. He lifted the blanket and found that he’s wearing a rather comfortable brown trouser and his feet were bound with clean bandages as well.

He looked around his new surroundings, wondering if that red haired man actually saved them when he passed out or if he got intercepted by someone else.

The room has three beds and an en suite toilet and bath, with the bed to his right empty while the other one to his left has the boy he was subconsciously protecting. The bright wall sconces around the room provided enough illumination for him to see  that the boy is still surprisingly asleep.

What did those crazy bastards give this poor kid for him to sleep like as if he was dead?

Xidriel then looked out of the square window, subconsciously praising how good the original Xidriel’s eyesight is since he could see clearly without a need for glasses, and found that the skies outside have cleared up, with a hint of blue tinge of twilight slowly creeping in.

How long did he sleep?

Carefully, he got out of bed and gingerly walked over to the boy to check on him, noticing that his clothes were also changed to something more decent, then made his way to the mirror that hangs on a nearby wall to check on his face.

He was sure he got it scratched or something when he was running in the forest.

What he saw in the reflection surprised him.

In the memories that merged with him, the original Xidriel had rose gold hair like the rest of his family, with crystal blue irises with a lively and prideful air about him.

However, the face looking back at him has black hair and grayish blue irises, with nary a hint of liveliness that the original had.

Physically speaking, he still bore the same handsome face and body, along with any distinguishable birth marks, of the original version except for the obvious color changes; he’s sure that those who personally knew the original would only do a double take on him before recognizing his face.

How would he explain things to them without sounding like a crazy man? Is permanent hair dye and contact lenses a thing here?

He flinched slightly at the sound of the door opening and saw the red haired man, now wearing clothes befitting a man of wealth, entered the room and being followed by a young, teenage girl wearing a brown dress and an apron, carrying a heavy tray with food and two glasses of ginger ale on it.

Xidriel fought down a blush when the red haired man turned to look at him with a calm and gentle smile.

Didn’t he used to have a haggard face?

How could all that disappear behind a pair of eyeglasses and a smile?!

“Hungry?” The red haired man asked him as the girl placed the tray down onto a table at the other end of the room. “I figured you’d wake up by now. Come sit with me.”

The girl gave them a quick, curious glance before bowing out of the room and closing the door behind her.

Unnerved, Xidriel walked over to the table, sitting down on the chair that the red haired man had pulled out for him before taking the seat on the other side.

The plate before him consists of two pieces of well cooked sausages, slices of rye bread, a fried egg and a small bowl of something that reminded him of an overcooked risotto.

Xidriel stamped down on the disgust welling up in his stomach, slightly annoyed at the instinctive nature of the noble-born Xidriel who grew up with the finest food and drinks affecting him, and warily looked at the red haired man.

“Um, thank you for saving us…”

The red haired man smiled as he crossed his legs and folded his hands on top of the table. “It’s part of my job. Don’t think much of it.”

“Your…job…? Are you some kind of mercenary?”

“Of sorts.” The red haired man chuckled, making Xidriel frown at his direction.

What kind of mercenary could afford high quality clothes like the one he’s wearing?

The red haired man gazed at Xidriel for a moment before opening his mouth. “If you don’t mind, I have a few questions that I hope you could provide answers to.”

“Oh…sure. What is it?”

“How did you end up in that remote place?”

Xidriel blinked at that then furrowed his brows to search for the relevant memories from the original.

“I remember…going out of the house to go to a friend’s gathering in the early evening…then some brutes ambushed me and…I don’t really remember much of what happened afterwards…”

The red haired man hummed thoughtfully for a bit. “I guess no one in your family knew you were going out?”

“No, I don’t think so…”

“I see. So you fought your way out, got injured, and then passed out when you discerned I was not a threat to you…interesting…”

Xidriel flinched at his tone, as if hinting that he doesn’t believe most of what he had told him.

Well, who would believe him if he told the truth that he’s not the real one, that he was taken from his original world without so much of a peep from whichever deity did it?

They didn’t leave any kind of instructions on what he’s supposed to do in this unfamiliar world, unlike the transmigration stories he had read where the transmigrator has a clear goal like changing the fate of the person they had possessed or something like that.

On the other hand, he could make returning home to his original world his goal.

If he still has a body to return to.

What if his family thought he died in his sleep and cremated his body? It’s a terrible thought and it could be a possibility.

The red haired man ignored that action from him as he slightly leaned forward on the table.

“Then, did you happen to come across something that you should not have?”

“Huh?” Xidriel stared at him, confused as to where that question came from.

“You were speaking…let’s say, a dead language, when we first met.” The red haired man told him as he gave Xidriel an overly polite smile. “I doubt there are any linguists out there who know its proper structure. And your soul seemed to be in quite a mess when I tapped into it to bring back your ability to speak the common language…”

Xidriel shuddered at how cold that smile is, but still decided to defend himself from any ridiculous allegations, seeing that the red haired man is someone who also held secrets like him. “And what does that make you, for you to recognize it?”

The red haired man blinked at that before laughing. “Right. I forgot to introduce myself…”

He leaned back on his chair comfortably as he uncrossed his legs, before giving Xidriel a half bow.

“My name is Amon. On paper, I am a merchant. In reality, I am an Inquisitor.”