Academic gathering with a lich-Chapter 52 - 49: Egghead

"What happened after that?" Lyle looked at Mr. Delusion’s mechanical body, its texture, the cubic box, the electronic-filled mechanical brain, all of which kept telling him it was real.

William Wyran was a future transmigrator.

"..."

"After that, Mr. Delusion probably hasn’t thought up the rest of the plot," said the reporter with a chuckle.

"Every time, he immerses himself in his novels as the protagonist. But I must admit, this time, it was his best performance yet."

The iron box on Mr. Delusion’s head closed, and he reverted to the silent figure immersed in books and transcriptions.

"A novel?"

"Yes, his first novel, a science fiction one. It’s because he always claims to be the protagonist that we jokingly call him Mr. Delusion."

"But his body..."

"That’s mechanical props. You can buy those in the mechanical sect of the City of Wandering, though they are quite expensive. It’s just a disguise."

"..." Is that really so?

William Wyran offered no rebuttal to his companion’s explanation, always working like a machine, as if those profound eyes, that deep story, were just a figment of Lyle’s imagination.

"I must be leaving now, gentlemen, dawn is approaching."

After bidding farewell to the three, Lyle walked back outside, stepping on the mushroom steps as he passed through the bubble.

Before doing so, he and the grape in his pocket both rubbed against the bubble.

To ensure there would be no errors that could bring catastrophe to Cassandra.

The Cup of Luxury showed no change, just as when he and the gentleman left, that cup of tea remained on the cloth mat, and Grape, clinging tightly to his shoulder, grasped the fabric.

Lyle pressed down on the ring.

A bat and a man successfully appeared in Lyle’s cabin.

Grape excitedly circled above her new home, while Lyle quickly shed his disguise, flicking away the sweat-soaked hair on his head.

The night felt like it had spanned a century.

After the awakening ritual and making friends, Lyle kicked off his boots, stripped off his undergarments, and paid no mind to Grape’s gaze.

"Sir, your skin is very beautiful."

He was unsure if Grape was complimenting his appearance.

He vaguely remembered making a reply before sleep overcame him, and he collapsed onto the bed.

......

He didn’t wake until the following afternoon.

His sleep had been terrible, as if the fatigue of a marathon still compressed every cell of his body.

"Grape?"

"I’m here, sir." The little light bat peered out from the top of the closet, having found herself a small space the previous night to serve as her strategic base in the future.

Grape showed her tendency to nest, contrary to Lyle’s expectations that she might fly out for the night.

"How do you feel, Grape?"

"Very well, sir, this really is a nice place to stay, sheltered from wind and rain."

Lyle offered an awkward smile, feeling like his deal with Grape was like taking advantage of an honest person. He decided to compensate her with food.

"Sir?"

"What is it?"

"I’m not sure, but, has your skin, um, broken?"

"Broken?"

"Your face, it’s changed a lot since last night."

My face, Lyle puzzled, stretching out a hand and stroking his face. His skin wasn’t great, what with the chronic lack of sleep and poor nutrition, it surely felt as uneven as grains ground by a millstone.

But the reality was worse than he imagined. His skin was rough and uneven, as if covered by a mask, and the leather of the bird mask was even coarser.

This was definitely not his own face, something must have happened.

Lyle urgently filled a basin with water and placed it under the sunlight. Kneeling beside it, he saw the unrecognizable face reflected back at him.

It was as if a herpes virus had thrown a lavish annual carnival on his face, with grotesque bulges crowding together. He was disfigured, looking like a potato halfway through frying.

Unable to fathom what had happened, he touched his face which felt like layers of volcanic rock, devoid of pain. Lyle surmised the bumps, parasite-like, had killed off their own nerves and keratin had formed a shell on his face... like an eggshell.

It was habit for him to want to open a locked chest, to turn a key in a lock, to break a watch’s cover.

Lyle grabbed a bulge near his cheekbone and pressed hard, cracking it.

Like peeling an eggshell, bloody fragments fell into the basin. As the red began to ripple, Lyle witnessed a bizarre sight.

Behind the fragments, through the grapefruit-sized hole, was not his flesh or bloodied tissue, but a vivid red fluid, perhaps blood.

But do human skulls come hollow and filled entirely with blood? An incomprehensible panic crushed his calm, and Lyle cried out.

The inside liquid began to seep out with gravity.

Gurgle gurgle gurgle gurgle.

Just as it was about to flow out, under his own gaze, the edges of the hole rapidly closed. A new shell appeared instantaneously, and Lyle’s face was whole again.

Lyle slumped to the floor, understanding the gentleman’s words, "You will need time to recover from the aftermath of awakening your gift."

Perhaps this was just a small part of it. Fear could drive one to lose control, but a fear beyond fear could impel clarity. Staying the same was what Lyle wanted and had to choose.

He had to accept the fact that his head had turned into a giant living egg.

Fortunately, he still had mobility. His eyes could see, his nose could breathe, his mouth could open and close.

At this moment, he was certainly an oddity.

Lyle put on the plague doctor disguise and started to flip through the Giant Spirit’s Death Spirit Summoning guide, chanting the Spell of corpse revival over and over again. The Emo Characters calmed his mind much more effectively than any form of self-suggestion.