This all went down about 340 days ago, give or take.
For over 20 days, I'd been having a blast—farming resources, tinkering with my dimension, sneaking around in disguise, and collecting data on everything in this world with my ridiculous powers! But don't worry, I'm not some maniac trying to upend the world's balance with my cheat-level abilities. I keep things chill, you know?
Take today, for example. I ran into a massive swarm of bat-snake hybrid monsters—Drakbats, let's call 'em—in the snow-covered depths of a mid-level northern forest zone. They even had a miniboss with them, way stronger than anything that should be in this area. After using my Hurab No.11 clone to quietly gather all their data, I didn't bother wiping them out. Nah, I let 'em roam free so I could move on to collect more info elsewhere.
…Yeah, you can probably guess where this is going, right? That snowy forest? It turned into a bloodbath, stained crimson by those Drakbats. Turns out, they crossed paths with a huge caravan of travelers moving from a low-to-mid-level safe zone to a mid-level zone. And, well… a ton of people died. Like, entire groups of travelers.
By the time I finished my data collection and stepped out of the forest, it was too late. Everyone was gone. The soft howl of the blizzard and my own carelessness let this tragedy slip right past me. Oh well, I'm no hero or chosen one in anyone's eyes, so whatever, right?
I decided to gather data from the dead caravan members and their belongings. In just 1/100th of a second, I swapped their bodies and items with SSS-grade copies. Their memories were mostly mundane—some were merchants, others wanted to move to a better city, a few were just tagging along for the ride. Man, I felt pretty guilty for not wiping out those monsters back in the forest. But if I had taken them all out, then… well, you know.
My thoughts screeched to a halt when I stumbled across the memories of a woman named Milk, who died miserably in a wrecked carriage. She was a skilled, battle-hardened warrior who'd turned to banditry. Just recently, she'd robbed and slaughtered a group of religious pilgrims, then disguised herself as a villager to blend into this caravan. The juicy part? Her thoughts and a letter she'd stolen.
Milk had learned from the letter that the church had spotted someone in the north with godlike powers, blessings, or some fancy artifact. (Guess folks here don't call these types "heroes." Too wordy. I'll just stick with "hero" from now on.) The church wanted to send people to recruit this hero to their cause. Milk, being the schemer she was, planned to forge some documents, cozy up to the hero, and then swipe their shiny stuff when the moment was right.
Yup, Milk was straight-up evil. Good riddance that she died before pulling it off, all because she tried to play undercover. Couldn't draw her weapon in time, got slapped silly by the miniboss, then crawled into the carriage only to get skewered through it. Dead as a doornail.
Eh, whatever. This hero business sounded way more interesting than anything else. So, I thought… why not pick up where this bandit left off? But, you know, in my style.
Lucky for me, she died in that wrecked carriage, so no one around here likely saw her. Perfect setup.
[Item Box] LV.xxxxx—Stashed away Milk's fake corpse (already swapped) for fertilizer or crafting later.
[Doppelganger] LV.xxxxx—Spawned a 5% clone of Milk.
[Perfect Shapeshift] LV.100—Transformed the clone into the real Milk.
[Status]
Name: Milk, Age: 37, Gender: Female, LV.109, SLV.81 (Dang, she's strong!)
Class: Holy Warrior / Heavy Armored Warrior (Two classes? Fancy!)
Money: 43,700 Zen
[Status]
Thirty-seven? Kinda old, don't you think? The heroes summoned by those goddesses are usually younger, right? Might make chatting tricky. Can I shave down her age? But keep the scars and level the same? (Normally, de-aging resets items and levels to that point in time.) Eh, who cares, let's experiment! Oh, wait—first, let's toss out all the money she stole… then, with [Overlimit] LV.xxxxx + [Perfect Shapeshift] LV.100, here we go!
[Status]
Name: Milk, Age: 19, Gender: Female, LV.109, SLV.81
Class: Holy Warrior / Heavy Armored Warrior
Money: 43,700 Zen (Picked up the tossed pile, so now it's 87,400 Zen. Nice! Let's cheat a bit with the cash—no one'll notice!)
(Perfect)
[Status]
Flawless! Sure, her younger face isn't drop-dead gorgeous, and she's got scars all over, but that chest and those hips? Chef's kiss. It's wild how she could fight so nimbly with all that… extra baggage, plus heavy armor. Probably 'cause of her insane level, huh?
Alright, all set. I crawled out of the snowy wreckage and started looting the other corpses for valuables—well, as much as I could carry. Man, not having [Item Box] in this form is such a pain when you're lugging tons of stuff!
SCREECH! SCREEEE!
Before I could do much else, those Ice Drakbats and their miniboss came swooping back. About 42 of them, by my count. No way this Milk body could solo that swarm!
Alright, quick scan—no humans around, and the goddesses aren't peeking. Time for Hurab No.11, who's been hiding nearby, to steal the show!
[Status]
Monster: (Hu)rab
Race: Rabbit/Human, LV.2442
Grade: Normal, Rank G, Female
HP: 7403/7403, MP: 2442/2442
[Status]
"Piyong! Let's wrap this up in one go! Oh, and I'll slap on the Master's Necklace real quick to funnel all the EXP to Milk! Piyong!"
"Thanks, No.11. Handle it, will ya?"
"You got it, boss! Piyong!"
End of Chapter 22
Yeah, You're Pretty Evil, Milk