Reincarnated as the Weakest Magical Beast-Chapter 119: Mysterious... visitor?

She’s a human now, but she still couldn’t taste sweetness for some reason?

"Oh shit! Don’t tell me, I freaking caught COVID?!"

The possibility struck her at once.

She had never been infected with that virus before, but she had read enough online to know the symptoms. Loss of taste was one of the most distinct and common symptoms of all.

Her breath caught.

"No wonder I felt like shit yesterday and slept so much!"

She pressed a hand to her forehead, already dreading the discomfort of shoving a testing swab up her nose, and worse, the thought of calling in sick for work tomorrow.

Because this girl, apparently, had used up all of her paid day off to play Arventia!

So she moved to her cabinet and began rummaging through it in search of the unused test kit, praying that it would show negative. Yet halfway through, another thought gave her pause.

"But wait..."

COVID is supposed to dull all of my taste, right?

Why, then, could she still taste bitterness so clearly, while sweetness alone seemed to have vanished? That was far too selective to be normal!

As she stood there frowning, a scent drifted quietly into her room. A warm, spicy, and salty scent, so delicious that her stomach gave an eager rumble in response.

Claire lifted her head.

"What? ...Isn’t that the super spicy Korean ramen?"

She looked at her desk, where her ramen bowl was. That was not it. She had not even poured water into her own bowl yet, so the fragrance could not possibly be coming from her desk.

Which meant... someone else was cooking spicy noodle too.

"Sheila?"

Claire’s brows drew together at once.

"Impossible!"

She knew Sheila very well. Her flatmate could barely tolerate mild spice, let alone the fiery red packets Claire hoarded! In fact, Sheila avoided instant noodles entirely. She preferred cooking from scratch and was forever lecturing about preservatives, sodium, and the importance of a balanced diet.

No one in this apartment would touch that particular flavor.

No one but Claire herself!

So... could it be that Sheila had brought a friend over?

Claire hesitated.

If that were the case, why had she not been told? And even if a guest had arrived unannounced, who would casually open someone else’s cupboard and cook their ramen without asking?

Still, the longer she stood there, the more her irritation softened into curiosity. It had been quite some time since Sheila last invited anyone over. Besides, for all she knew, the visitor might have brought their own noodles. The scent alone was not proof of theft.

In fact, the thought of another brave soul willingly tackling that notoriously vicious flavor amused her.

Well, whoever you are, at least you are not afraid of flavors!

Claire decided it was none of her concern though. She was hardly in the state to entertain strangers, not with her hair a mess and her mind still tangled in lingering dreams of another world. It would be easier to remain inside her room and avoid an awkward encounter.

Just then—

Psssh.

Some one cracked open a soda can.

A moment later came a satisfied exhale.

"Kaahhh... now that’s good stuff!"

Wait!

Claire froze.

That was unmistakably a woman’s voice!

Her brows rose slowly.

"Well, well, well," she murmured under her breath, a grin tugging at her lips. "Don’t tell me you finally got yourself another girlfriend, Sheila!"

Apparently, Sheila was a lesbian, someone who was only into girls. Her previous relationship had been long but painfully messy, and she had not dated anyone else for several years. It had been difficult for her mentally.

It was good to see what might be a healthy change.

But then—

"This tastes just like Grimroot Fizz!" the woman outside exclaimed.

What?!

The words struck Claire like a bolt of lightning.

Her mind stalled for half a second before racing wildly ahead.

What did she say? Grimroot Fizz?

Oh my god!

That name was supposed to be a secret among the cultured only!

It was the name of a traditional dwarven herbal brew in Arventia, a drink crafted in iron kettles beneath the mountains, fermented with bitter medicinal roots and drowned in sugar until it sparkled like cola!

It was also a somewhat popular drink among the high level players, due to its nice effects. In the game, it restored stamina and slightly increased resistance to poison.

And so, Claire stared at her bedroom door as if it had personally betrayed her.

No way.

No freaking way!

"I can’t believe this," she muttered under her breath, her pulse quickening. "Is she another Arventia fanatic in real life?"

A grin slowly spread across her face.

"Sheila, you legend! I approve this girlfriend already!!!"

Excitement replaced suspicion almost instantly. It had been ages since Claire had met someone who played as obsessively as she did. If the girl casually referenced Grimroot Fizz, then she would not be some beginner. That dwarven region had a pretty high level requirement to explore after all! So, she had to be a high level player! Perhaps even someone Claire knew!

Her competitive spirit stirred.

Quickly, she ran her fingers through her messy blonde hair, trying to tame the worst of the bedhead. She smoothed down her oversized shirt, checked her reflection in the mirror, and decided she looked presentable enough for a spontaneous social encounter.

With a small breath to steady her strange excitement, Claire opened the door and stepped into the living room.

But then... she saw her.

Claire’s heart dropped straight into her stomach, her fingers tightened around the doorframe, and the color drained from her face.

"What?"

"What the hell is going on?"

"Who the hell are you???!"

****

"Oh! Hey there!"

The woman looked up at Claire and gave her a casual wave, a smug grin curving across her lips.

But the unsettling thiing was that... this woman... she looked exactly like Claire!

Well, not exactly exactly, but like a darker, more edgy version of her!

She possessed Claire’s own features, with delicate jawline, soft lips, blonde hair, and of course, those signature dark circles under her eyes. Yet the shade of gold on her hair was richer, and styled to perfection into a cool, girl-boss bob cut.

But the most striking difference was her eyes.

They were crimson.

They glowed like embers banked beneath ash. Thin red fractures traced subtly along her temples and across her pale skin, as though something powerful pulsed just beneath the surface. And speaking of her skin, it was so pale that, at first glance, one might have mistaken her for a vampire.

All the while, she wore a fitted black suit tailored to her slender frame, elegant and severe at once. Even seated casually on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, she carried an unmistakable air of command.

On the coffee table rested a steaming bowl of ramen. In her hand, a can of soda tilted lazily.

"Hmmm, who am I? Little girl, take a guess."

Yet Claire remained speechless, unable to figure out what was going on.

Until the woman gave her a clue.

"My name starts with an A. And I was the Sovereign of a Lost Kingdom."

"Wait! You’re... Amaras?"

"Yeah," the woman answered.