I have searched almost all over the villa to find only two pictures of Ian's Mother. One was with his father and the other one was just her portrait, which was hand drawn, unlike the other one. Both of them seemed old, and they were dressed in old-fashioned suits and dresses as well, which seemed to have gone off fashion decades ago.
What's odd is that there was no picture of Ian with her, yet I recall some memories of her. There were oddities as well.
I hadn't got all the memories of old Ian, but I think I would surface with what I got. However, there were some oddities in them. Like in my memory, I can't recall the face of Ian's mother. It was blank, as if something had placed a spell on me to forget about it.
Well, as far as my knowledge of this world goes, that's possible, but who would do that? Lord Locksmith, the mysterious father, who was supposed to be dead? Or Ian's mother, who was also supposed to be a Grand Magus level character, could challenge the headmistress of the academy, if I have to add.
Damning Locksmith, even taking his secrets to his grave.
Could Anneliese do it? Probably not, nor does she have any motive behind it. Unfortunately, this guy was just an extra—who died even before the storyline of the game begins—to deduct anything.
Well, as far as the memory goes, both of them were dead, so there was no point in reminiscing about them now.
Also, my own memory was alright, but not the new set of one. I have enough information and intelligence to get what I want. That's the only thing that's important for now. Thinking that, I moved away from the study to the underground facilities.
The villa has some frightening levels of underground layers. I wasn't even sure how deep it went, though some parts of it were destroyed in the attack that killed Lord Locksmith a couple of months ago. It must have caused a fortune to build this place, and it would cost another fortune to rebuild it. Rebuilding the workshop, which no one would appreciate, was out of the option.
House Locksmith lacked the funds to sponsor any of that. The dead father of Ian left with a lot of lands, however, there's a lot, I mean, a lot of debt to be paid off as well. The union has already taken over their company, which could be called this world's SpaceX or Amazon. That was not all. They have taken other stuff that was out of their reach. Hit it when the elephant is down. That's the way it is.
I guess that's what happens when you give everything to a mad scientist. He would destroy everything on whimsical hobbies and experiments. Even before the attack, the house was drowning in debt while the lord of the house was busy in his fruitless experiments.
Ironically, he was a powerful man and might've solved the financial problem if he was alive, though I'm not sure about many things. All the important stuff seemed to be ripped away, hidden somewhere else.
The first layer of the underground facilities was mainly for training, and it has a dream chamber too. As I entered, climbing down the stairs, I found Kain waiting with refreshments ready. I must admit, Kain might not be Alfred, but he's every pennyworth.
By the way, the area where the lift should be was debris now. That's why I had to use the stairs.
Nodding to Kain, I strode, checking out all the equipment around. They seemed just as similar to the equipment I tried on the other earth. Well, the true distinction would be the other chambers. The dream chamber was the most alluring, while others such as the Gravitation chamber, chamber for target practice, isolation chamber etc were also something not that common on the other earth.
Oh yes, I will call the real earth as the other earth from now on. Yes, if I must go on with this new life, I better go on admitting this is all real. I'm not delusional, creating fantasy out of my insanity. If that's going to happen, that would mean I have one hell of an imaginative mind that I would never appreciate.
"Master Ian," Kain said. The man in his late prime cracked a smile, showing the way. "You should warm up first."
Kain led me to the physical training equipment and made me do all kinds of movements, push-ups, squats, and pullups. Huh, everything came as too easy, even though my body came as quite sickly. I guess 12 points in strength were not just for a show. I could literally carry about 100 kg with ease, and that too, without using any spiritual energy.
I trained for half an hour more than my back seethed in sweat, even dripping down from my face. Not only that, but I felt some form of exhaustion, though it was far from my limit.
Kain handed me a towel first. I wiped the sweat off as he readied the refreshment. Now it's to try the Dream chamber. Honestly, I'm quite excited to try it out, since the other earth never managed to create a fully immersive virtual reality. Well, we lacked the component of magic after all, so not too much hard feeling about it.
Kain handed me a glass of green fluid as I finished wiping my sweats. The drink didn't look that weird, but I did smell it first to gulp down. It tasted bitter and strong, though it brought back the vigour to the body.
"Let's check out the Dream chamber," I called. This time, I walked on my own toward the chamber. Let's see how authentic this dream chamber is.
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Kain and I both entered the dream chamber, turned out it was a perfectly square white room, and it was that kind of room that would get on your nerves if you stay for longer. The entire room was air-tide, though I felt no problem breathing.
Kain handed me an earbud almost like a small pebble, saying to sit or stand anywhere, closing my eyes. I did as told, putting the earbud on my right ear, through which I'll be able to hear his voice.
I waited, closing my eyes. After a few seconds, something hit me. I didn't feel any physical pain, but it was like I dived into the water, though the feeling was too light and surreal.
"Master Ian, it's ready," Kain announced. "What do you want to test first?"
I opened my eyes and found I'm in a vast plane pulled of green grass. The sky was strikingly blue, holding the familiar sun. A soft wind blew not strong enough to sway my hair, but it was quite pleasant. I stretch and skid around, finding that all my physical attributes were just the same. It's even hard to distinguish that it's fake.
"Master Ian?"
"Swordplay," I answered. Since Ian was supposed to become a knight, I need to learn swordplay. "Start with a light warm-up. The system has my previous training records, right? If so, let me fight myself here."
"As you wish, master Ian."
My dress changed as mist clouded around me. Now I'm in light armour, with a sheathed sword on my back. I unsheathed it and found it's not a copy of that sword, but just some random sword. Well, this will do for some training, not to mention I have never been a sword lunatic. I did learn archery, and shooting, but never swords.
That turned out to be a bad decision. I should have practised swords. Silly me, I never even had the notion that I could transmigrate either. On that note, this world does have guns. I would try that after this.
Jokes apart, the sword felt natural to me, like many other things in this world felt, like the language, reading, writing. Let's see how far the familiarity goes.
A figure appeared before me with the same gear, with shorter hair. This version of me was the other Ian, though only recorded data, had no intelligence.
I took a stance, which seemed natural to me, but became startled finding the old copy of Ian taking a stance just the same. Both of us have identical stances, though perhaps it was me who looked lousier.
The match started as both of us shot at one another, drawing swords. I swung it towards the head of my copy, not at my top speed, since this copy's stat was a bit lower. However, I was impressed by how the copy handled me. Ian was pretty amazing for a side character, I guess.
It feinted the blow that came for my lower body, which I seemed to have anticipated, somehow. That unnerved me more than filled me with delight.
I took a step back, evading the blow that came for my thigh, the sword in my grip grew tighter as if I had been practising it for years.
Lightning charged through my head, as I followed with a move impulsively.
The copy blocked, but I drew more strength.
We exchanged more blows as I found out the way I was fighting was exactly like the copy, as if I learned them a long time ago. There were still some bits of awkwardness in them, but I think it would be good after a few weeks of practice.
Was that a good thing or bad? Perhaps good, as I knew nothing of swordplay. Wait, I know swordplay, like how I know Duah. I didn't know how I did it, but I did it fine.
The spar continued. . . .
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