Waking up without any sense of how long he'd slept, Michael rubbed his eyes groggily. He reached for his phone and glanced at the clock. It read 12:00. Confused, he looked towards the window. The faint glow of streetlights confirmed it was night.
"So... I lost the whole day," he muttered, running a hand through his disheveled hair. A sigh escaped his lips as he sat on the edge of the bed, gathering his thoughts.
Stretching lazily, Michael stood and walked towards the door. His stomach growled loudly, snapping him back to reality. "Guess it's time to eat," he said, rubbing his stomach as he picked up the phone and placed an order for food.
Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Opening it, Michael saw a hotel staff member holding a tray of steaming food. Without saying much, he accepted it, nodding curtly as the staff member left.
Sitting at the small dining table in his room, he uncovered the tray to reveal a plate of pasta, a side of bread, and a small dessert. "Simple, but it'll do," he murmured, grabbing a fork and digging in.
As he ate, his mind wandered." now, that I am back, their might be someone coming to find me" he thought as he chewed the food, "Hmm, I wonder who will it be" he thought as he leaned back on the chair.
Michael decided to wait out the day in his hotel room, avoiding any unnecessary outings. The following afternoon, a sharp knock on his door interrupted his quiet respite.
Opening the door, he was greeted by Mia, the head maid of the White family's main household. She exuded elegance and authority, her blonde hair impeccably styled, and her figure striking even in the modest uniform she wore.
"Young master Michael," she began, her tone firm yet respectful. "You've been missing for over a month. Care to explain where you've been?" Without waiting for an invitation, she stepped into the room as though she owned the place.
Michael's eyes briefly lingered on her, noting her composed demeanor and stunning features. She sat down on the edge of his bed, crossing her legs gracefully, her piercing gaze fixed on him.
"Your mother was extremely worried," she continued. "Where exactly were you?"
Michael leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "I have to wonder how the White family managed to become so influential when they didn't even notice their youngest heir had been kidnapped," he replied, tilting his head mockingly.
For the first time, Mia's expression shifted, her cool façade cracking just slightly. Standing abruptly, she approached him, her tone measured but tinged with suspicion. "Your claim doesn't match your current state. You're far too composed for someone who's supposedly been kidnapped. What really happened?"
Michael shrugged dismissively, his eyes narrowing. "I don't feel like talking about it. You're resourceful—figure it out yourself."
Mia's eyes flashed with annoyance, though she kept her composure. "I'm only doing my job, young master," she said calmly, her voice even.
Michael moved quickly, grabbing her wrist firmly but without aggression. He guided her toward the door and, with a surprising lack of ceremony, pushed her out. "I need rest," he stated flatly, shutting the door in her face.
Standing in the hallway, Mia stared at the closed door for a long moment, her expression unreadable. She adjusted her sleeves and muttered under her breath, "You've certainly changed, young master."
Mia stood in the hallway, staring at the closed door for a moment longer before pulling out her phone. Her thumb swiped across the screen as she muttered, "So, were you really kidnapped?"
The phone rang twice before an elegant yet sharp feminine voice answered. "Where was he?"
Mia took a deep breath and relayed what Michael had told her. The response from the other end was immediate.
"What!?" Rose, Michael's mother, screamed, her outraged cry drawing the attention of the maids working in her room. Rose paid them no mind, gripping her phone tightly. "What is this nonsense? He was kidnapped? How dare someone touch my baby?! Tell me everything!"
"He didn't share many details," Mia replied, her voice calm amidst Rose's fury. "He said to find out for myself."
Rose let out an exasperated sigh, sinking into her chair. "That boy never liked the family much after... that incident. And now, after this kidnapping, he'll hate us even more." Her voice grew softer for a moment before hardening again. "But whoever dared lay a finger on my son will regret it."
"Leave it to me," Mia reassured her. "I'll find out what happened and deliver the head of the one responsible."
"Good. Report back the moment you find anything," Rose demanded before cutting the call abruptly.
Mia slid her phone back into her pocket, her expression neutral as she turned back to Michael's door. With a bow toward it, almost ceremoniously, she whispered, "I'll be going out, young master." Without waiting for a response, she left to begin her investigation.
Inside the room, Michael leaned against the door, a thoughtful expression appeared on his face " It seems the previous owner doesn't liked the family much, good, it works for me, even if I do something different they won't suspect me much"
Lying down, he crossed his arms behind his head and stared at the ceiling. "Not that I care much for this family. The less they interact with me, the better. Works in my favor." He chuckled to himself.
"Now then," he murmured, pulling out two items from his inventory. "Let's see what I can get from these tickets."
[Congratulations, Host, on obtaining an item from the Bronze Ticket: EchoPhone.]
Michael raised an eyebrow as the description appeared before him.
[EchoPhone: An advanced smartphone equipped with unparalleled anti-tracking features. Any call made using this phone cannot be traced with current technology and will remain untraceable for the next 100 years.]
"Not bad," he muttered, examining the sleek, futuristic device that materialized in his hand. "Might come in handy."
He wasted no time in using the second item, the Silver Ticket.
[Congratulations, Host, on obtaining a skill: Illusion of Death (Necromancy Skill)]
Description:
Master the art of deception by summoning up to three spectral copies of yourself at a target location.
These phantasms, imbued with necrotic energy, are lifelike and draw the attention of enemies.
Upon contact, the phantasms detonate, dealing 1000% necrotic damage to all targets in their range.
Michael's eyes widened slightly, a grin spreading across his face. "Now this is something I like it."