A few hours later, Table found himself being carefully loaded onto the grandest horse-drawn carriage he’d ever had the misfortune (or perhaps, the fortune) to ride in. Not that he’d ridden in many. This would be the second one.

  Unlike the rough, jostling journey that had first brought him to Rob’s residence, this one was smooth, almost luxurious. He was placed on soft pillows that sunk as he placed his weight over them. The carriage hadn’t rattled once during the trip, and the wheels had been gliding over the road as though the ground itself had been polished for its passage.

  More importantly, for the first time since his reincarnation in this world, he had space. There wasn’t any sack of grain wedged against his side, nor were there any wobbly crates threatening to tip over him, nor any musty burlap brushing against his legs.

  Alas! This is the life I was supposed to have!

  Rob and Lena rode on a separate carriage, but both of them stopped in front of the Bimbleton estate at the same time. He heard the soft, slightly scared whispers of Lena from the other carriage. “Do we really have to come in, darling? He always finds an excuse to bring me up whenever he visits.”

  In all fairness, Table could understand why the Master had his eyes on Lena. She wasn’t striking in the way noblewomen draped in jewels and silk often were, but her doll-like appearance, with a small nose and lips so subtly curved they always seemed on the verge of a hesitant smile, made her seem vulnerable. It didn’t help that she had a way of lowering her gaze when spoken to.

  Not that it was particularly a problem for Table, but he might have grown sentimental over the one week staying at their lopsided home. Rob had been taking care of him, and Lena had never been anywhere near rough cleaning him.

  But it was no time for sentiment! If Table were to become the best piece of furniture there ever was, these commoners would soon become nothing but distant memories to him.

  “You know he’d make our lives difficult if we didn’t comply, Lena. We endure one evening, get it over with, and maybe he’ll leave us alone for a while.” Then a pause, and Rob lowered his voice to a deep baritone. “I will not let anything happen to you. You hear?”

  “I love you dear.” He coughed after finishing his sentence.

  “I love you.” Then came the sound of a soft kiss.

  So sweet, Table thought. Now get in so I can collect my EXP.

  The Bimbleton’s imposing iron gates opened theatrically slowly as two servants unloaded Table. The carved reliefs of valiant knights and graceful noblewomen on the manor’s stone walls roadway were accentuated by the warm glow of the evening lights.

  Another notification popped up.

  NEW SIDE QUEST UNLOCKED: A Keen Eye! (1)

  Objective: Use your Perception to notice inconsistencies in the Bimbleton estate’s presentation.

  REWARD: +1 PER

  He accepted the quest without hesitation. Any point gained is better than no point at all.

  Table proceeded to immediately lose 1 HP. His vision blurred.

  What the heck? Why would you reduce my vision before a perception-based quest? What kind of rigged mechanic is this? Systemmmmm!

  His vision wavered for a few agonizing seconds, and he had to concentrate harder to make out details.

  A system notification popped up.

  CONGRATULATIONS! STATUS EFFECT GAINED: Minor Eye Strain (-1 Perception for 30 seconds)

  Congrat—for harlot’s sake! This system must be having lots of fun messing with me; I’m sure of it.

  What did I ever do to deserve this? Did I sleep with the System’s sister and wife during my past life or something? Did I buy all of its favorite snacks while in queue right before its eyes? Did I kidnap its dog?

  As Table was carried forward, he focused his Perception on the details beyond the surface. The servants carrying him moved in an odd rhythm, raising him up and down with every step as if they were marching to a silent tune. Every time he thought he had locked onto a detail, his vision bounced, forcing him to refocus.

  Table was infuriated, but tried to concentrate nonetheless.

  He looked at the road. Nothing off about it. He turned to the horses inside a stable from afar. Nothing off. He turned to Lena. Slightly pale and nodding to a guard from afar who was nodding back at her. Other than that, nothing off.

  The grand double doors of the Bimbleton estate swung open, and the servants carrying Table prepared to haul him inside. He hadn’t yet known how quests work, but he was rather sure once he stepped foot inside and his vision was blocked, he would fail the quest.

  I must not fail!

  In a desperate last-second scan, his eyes darted over the hedges. He saw it. Though neatly trimmed, the hedges bore uneven patches where branches had been hastily clipped.

  His Perception sharpened.

  The servant in front pushed him upward, and he caught something else. A crack in the ceiling, sloppily painted over with a milky white instead of a marble white.

  Surely the Master of the estate had rushed to spruce the place up for this specific occasion.

  DING!

  QUEST COMPLETE: A Keen Eye! (1)

  +1 PERCEPTION GAINED

  Table was so proud of himself. He must’ve been a detective in his past life.

  An extravagant feast greeted Table as he got inside a golden dining hall with chandeliers hanging above. The fish that Master Bimbleton had promised was the centerpiece, but it was accompanied by platters of roasted meats, steaming soups, and freshly baked bread along the long dining table. Looks like Oak. Or maybe Elviswood looks like Oak.

  This was no supper. It was an entire banquet.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “Ohhhh, honey-spiced candy!” Lena’s eyes twinkled as she turned to the plate of candy across the table. These sweets didn’t seem to be very accessible, for even though Lena loved it very much, she had to limit herself to eating just one candy a day in her household.

  Meanwhile, in the very center of the grand hall, elevated on a slightly raised platform, stood the true star of the evening. The Elviswood table.

  Its surface gleamed with a deep, natural luster as it absorbed the light from the chandeliers. From a glance, Table could tell that that table alone would be worth at least a hundred of him.

  A system notification popped up against his will.

  STATUS WINDOW: ELVISWOOD TABLE

  Table stared at the HP and STR, numbers so grand he could not begin to imagine. What was he supposed to do against that? He was barely a week old in this world!

  This would be what it felt like when you loaded up a new game and immediately ran into a max-level raid boss in the tutorial area.

  But then his eyes locked onto AGI: 7.

  His own AGI was 14, without any passive level-up. He was faster.

  It would make sense. Who would buff up its table’s AGI stat?

  Okay, so I have something to base around. But he didn’t know the details of whatever he constituted a show of worth, and he hadn’t yet found a way to interact with the system to find out the specifics.

  The servants led Rob and Lena further into the dining hall, and the couple’s eyes widened at the sheer grandeur surrounding them. Rob even had to run a hand along the embroidered tablecloth as if to confirm it was real. Lena grabbed her husband’s sleeves.

  Master Bimbleton, dressed in the finest silks, sauntered forward with a smug. “Ah, my dear guests! I trust the meal is to your liking? But of course, we did not gather for mere supper.” His eyes twinkled as he gestured toward the Elviswood Table. “We all know why we brought you and your tables here.” Silence ensued. Nobody said a word until Bimbleton spoke again. “A Table Duel, as per tradition. What do you say?”

  What the hell is a Table Duel? And it is AS PER TRADITION? Meaning they’ve done this many times before?

  This world is insane.

  At least Table knew that his kind had some sort of importance within this realm.

  “A Table Duel is a massive waste of resources, Master. One of the duelists often ends up with useless pieces of wood scraps,” Rob said.

  “A problem for you, maybe,” Bimbleton retorted. “I will just buy myself another piece.”

  “That is... uh... well, I suppose wealthy people know more about proper resource management than me.”

  Bimbleton’s voice was poised with amusement. “If your humble table can best mine in a proper duel, I shall reward you handsomely. Five… no, ten! Ten silver coins and five hundred copper coins!”

  Table had no clue what the economy was like, but from the way Rob stiffened, that must’ve been a fortune. Enough for them to upgrade to a cobblestone table and throw him to the dogs.

  “But,” Bimbleton added, his voice lowering with each word, “should you lose… then your lovely wife shall remain here, cousin. For one night.”

  Rob blanched. “Ridi—cough—culous!”

  “No, love,” Lena put a hand on his chest. “That is a ridiculous amount of money. We can’t refuse.”

  Rob turned to her in horror. “Lena, you... do you even know what you’re saying?”

  “Love. You have lung fever. I—We don’t have the money for a good doctor,” she said. Bimbleton did not flinch at the mention of the disease. Maybe people in this world didn’t know lung diseases were infectious, or these conditions were somehow not transmittable in their realm.

  And you’re settling a life-and-death matter over a pair of TABLES? Hello?

  “Bimbleton is a man of pride. He will honor his word,” Lena took a step closer to Rob.

  Bimbleton chuckled. “But of course. I am nothing if not a man of my word.”

  Rob still looked ready to argue, but she put a finger over his lips, whispering, “Don’t worry, darling. If it’s Table Duel… I have just a way we could win.”