The Art of Gold Digging

Ch.25- That Time I Slept for Thirteen Hours, Cuddled with Literature, Painted a Blob-Dog, Got Schooled at Chess, and Still Managed to Be Fashio…

Saturday. Eastern Wing's infiltration day.

"Mmmmgghhh," Amy groaned eloquently, stretching her arms high over her head. 

Blinking against the sunlight pouring through her dorm window, she cracked open her eyes, disoriented for a moment. 

Stupid curtains. Always fucking open... 

Still groggy, she pushed herself upright while rubbing at her eyes. It was only then that she noticed the book lying beside her on the left side of the bed. 

"Huh...?" She blinked at it, frowning. "How did you get there?" 

[Good morning to you too.] 

"Yeah, right. Good morning. Why are you in my bed…?" 

[You don't remember?] 

"Remember what?" she asked while yawning and stretching some more. 

[You asked me to stay with you last night–said you couldn't sleep without me.] 

Her brow instantly furrowed in response. "I... asked you to stay with me?" 

[Yes. You pulled me from the nightstand, held me rather tightly, mumbling something about not wanting to be alone. All while repeatedly whispering my name. You don't remember?] 

Amy froze, her mind racing to recall the events from the previous night, but nothing came to her. What followed was her heart beating faster; she could already feel the heat creeping up her neck. 

"What? No way. That's— That didn't happen." 

[It absolutely did. You were quite insistent. At one point, you muttered something about 'not leaving me like everyone else.'] 

"Oh my god, shut up!" Amy scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping in her haste. She grabbed the book and placed it on her desk with unnecessary force. "I would never say something like that! Never!" 

[I'm simply stating the truth. Your exact words were—] 

"Nope. Stop. Not hearing this." She paced across the small room, running her hands through her tangled hair as she tried to shake off the sudden surge of embarrassment and heat to her cheeks. "Look, I think I'd remember something like that. You probably just... fell off the nightstand or something." 

[Fell off the nightstand. Into your bed. And then into your arms.] 

She glared at the book. "Maybe I grabbed you in my sleep without realizing. People do weird things when they're asleep." 

[That would explain the grabbing, yes. Not the pleading.] 

"I wasn't pleading!" Amy shouted, then immediately lowered her voice, glancing nervously at the walls separating her from her neighbors. "I don't plead. For anything. Ever," she said, this time less loudly. 

[If you say so.] 

"I do say so." She crossed her arms defensively. "And even if I did say something—which I didn't—it was just sleep talking. Meaningless gibberish." 

[Of course. The way you clutched me to your chest while whimpering my name repeatedly was completely random and meaningless.] 

Amy's face burned hotter. "You know what? I think you're making this up. Yeah, that's it. You're just trying to mess with me." 

[Why would I do that?] 

"I don't know! Entertainment? Isn't that what everything here is for? Entertainment?" She regretted the words instantly, memories of yesterday's breakdown still too fresh. It didn't take long for her to deflate, sinking onto the edge of her bed. "No, I... Fuck..." 

An awkward silence settled between them before Libris spoke. [Let's not dwell on depressing topics so early in the day. After all, we have more pressing matters to discuss—like your surprising neediness in the middle of the night.] 

"Oh my god." Amy buried her face in her hands. "We're not doing this." 

[Doing what?] 

"That's it!" She snatched the book from the desk, her face burning. "I'm throwing you out the window." 

[I can fly, you know.] 

She froze mid-step. "Oh..." 

[I don't understand why you're so upset. There's nothing embarrassing about needing one or two hugs occasionally.] 

"Stop lying! I didn't do that—you're making things up!" 

[Making things up? I'm simply reporting factual events. Would you like me to play back the audio recording?] 

"The... what?" 

[Audio recording. I have exceptional memory capabilities, including perfect audio recall of all interactions. Would you like me to replay your sleep-talking from 3:17 AM?] 

Amy's jaw dropped. She stared at the book, mortification creeping through her entire body. "You can... record things?" 

[Of course. It's quite simple, actually.] 

She slowly lowered her arm, bringing the book closer with narrowed eyes. "You're bluffing." 

[Am I? Let's see...] 

The book began to emit a soft hum, and then Amy's voice—sleepy, vulnerable, and unmistakably hers—filled the room: "Libris... don't go... everyone always..." 

"STOP!" Amy clutched the book to her chest, muffling the sound. Her heart pounded as panic surged through her. "Okay! Okay, okay, okay! I did it! You were right, I was wrong. That's enough! You won! Happy?" 

[I wasn't aware we were engaged in a competition.] 

Amy slowly released her death grip, holding Libris at arm's length. "You are unbearable." 

[I've been called worse and I’m barely three years old.] The book somehow managed to sound smug without a face. [Still, I must say, your sleeping face is quite adorable. You have this little wrinkle that forms between your eyebrows when you—] 

Amy tossed the book onto her bed and marched toward the bathroom. "I'm taking a shower. When I come back, we're pretending this never happened." 

[Sure.] 

She slammed the bathroom door shut, leaning against it with a heavy sigh. Her reflection stared back at her—disheveled hair, dark circles under her eyes, and cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. 

"Get it together," she muttered, splashing cold water on her face. "Today's important." The remainder of today's mission—infiltrating the Eastern Wing—was enough to shift her focus. 

By the time she emerged from the bathroom fifteen minutes later, wrapped in a towel, hair damp but clean and face set with determination, she had successfully pushed the morning's embarrassment to the back of her mind. 

"What time is it?" 

[Nearly noon,] Libris replied, floating up from the bed. [12:17 PM, to be precise.] 

"Noon?" Amy froze, her hand halfway to her satchel. "That can't be right. I went to bed around..." 

[11 PM. You've been asleep for approximately thirteen hours.] 

"Thirteen hours?" Amy's eyes widened in disbelief. "That's impossible. I never sleep that long." She frantically checked her clock, confirming Libris's statement with mounting horror. "Shit, shit, shit! I'm going to miss—" 

[Today is Saturday. There are no classes.] 

Amy paused before her shoulders sagged with relief. "Saturday... Right, no classes…" She exhaled slowly, running a hand through her damp hair. 

[That's what I just said, yes.] 

"I see." She grabbed her satchel from her desk chair and began rummaging through it, mentally reviewing the day ahead. There were a lot of things she could do toda— "Shit!" Her head snapped up, eyes wide with renewed panic. "The group meeting! I completely forgot!"

[What group meeting?] 

"With the protagonist's group, dumbass!" Amy exclaimed, yanking open her dresser drawer and rifling through her clothes, all gifted by Libris. "We were supposed to meet to finalize the plan for tonight's Eastern Wing operation! I can't believe I forgot." She pulled out a black shirt, examined it critically, then tossed it onto the bed. "What time is it again? Maybe I can still make it if I hurry—" 

[Amy.] 

"—shit, Libris, why didn't you wake me up!?—" 

[Amy.] 

"What?!" she snapped, whirling around to face the floating book. 

[The group meeting isn't until 8 PM.] 

Amy froze mid-motion, one arm stuck halfway into a jacket sleeve. 

"...What?" 

[8 PM. This evening. Crow told you himself...] 

Amy stared at Libris, slowly processing the information. The jacket slid from her shoulder, landing in a heap at her feet. 

"Oh." 

[Yes. Oh.] 

She stood in the middle of her dorm room, surrounded by hastily discarded clothing items, feeling her face grow warm for the second time that morning. 

Jesus Christ. Why am I fucking dumb? 

[Are we adding this to the list of things that never happened?] 

Amy shot Libris a withering glare. "Has anyone ever told you that for a book, you're remarkably talkative? Excessively so, if I may add." 

[You have, several times, actually.] 

"Just... shut up," she hissed, returning to her dresser to select clothes more deliberately. "I don't know why I'm so scattered today. Maybe I'm just... stressed." 

[I know.] 

“Yeah, you do…”

Amy continued dressing in silence, choosing comfortable clothes: a black jersey and soft lounging pants. Once dressed, she turned to Libris who was hovering near her desk. 

"So... if it's only noon, and the meeting isn't until eight..." she began. 

[You now have seven hours and forty-three minutes to fill.] 

"Great. Plenty of time to train more, and maybe start planning how to present our combined power." 

[Or perhaps time to rest?] 

"...rest?" 

[Indeed. After what happened yesterday, I don't think it's wise for you to jump back into training immediately.] 

Amy's breath caught as yesterday's memories resurfaced. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. "Don't worry... I feel…better." 

[Did sleeping for thirteen hours help?] 

"Yeah, actually. I feel... more like myself again." 

[That's good to hear. Your emotional breakdown yesterday was quite concerning.] 

Amy winced at the memory of her outburst. "Can we maybe not call it an 'emotional breakdown'? Let's go with... 'temporary lapse in composure.'" 

[If euphemisms help you process your psychological state, then by all means, continue.]

"You're such a smartass sometimes," Amy muttered, though without real heat. She flopped back onto her bed. "So what's the plan for today? More training?" 

[As I said, I would advise against that. Not only for your mental health, but also your magical core needs time to recover before tonight's expedition. Pushing yourself further could leave you at a disadvantage when it matters most.] 

Amy considered this. Her first instinct was to argue, to insist she needed every minute of preparation she could get. But she saw the logic in being fully rested before tonight's action.

"That... actually makes sense," she admitted reluctantly. "I guess I should take it easy until the meeting with Crow and the others." 

[A shockingly rational decision. I'm impressed.] 

"Who do you think I am?" she said while rolling her eyes. "But what are we supposed to do in the meantime? We've got hours to kill." 

[Are you hungry? It's been over thirteen hours since you last ate.] 

As if on cue, Amy's stomach rumbled loudly. She placed a hand over it, suddenly aware of her hunger. "I guess I could eat something. Can I have pizza?" 

[No, that was a one-time thing. Having pizza as breakfast isn't healthy.] 

"I swear yesterday you were saying—" 

[Yesterday is yesterday, and today is today. Just like my past is my past and my future is my future.] 

"Uuhhh…what?" 

Without warning, the book's pages began to glow with a soft golden light. Particles of light swirled above the pages, coalescing into shape and substance until a tray materialized on the table near the window. Amy looked at the breakfast: perfectly toasted bread topped with avocado and a poached egg, a bowl of fresh fruit, and a steaming mug of coffee. 

"Health food again?" she said with a slight eye roll, sitting up and then picking up the fork that had appeared alongside the meal. 

[You calling this "health food" is quite concerning.] 

Amy ignored the Libris’s commentary and took a bite of the avocado toast, her eyes widening as she savoured the meal. "Holy shit, this is good! Like better than usual." 

[I'm glad it meets your standards. I've been improving quite a lot due to your constant need for nourishment.] 

"Improving? Aren't you using magic?" she asked while eating enthusiastically, savoring each bite. 

[I don't use magic. I use magecraft. And yes, my ability is improving with repeated use, just like any other living being… Honestly, it's quite tiring creating things for you constantly, sometimes I wish I could just teach you how to do it, but even if I could, it couldn't enter that small brain of yours.] 

Amy paused mid-chew to give Libris a flat look. "You know what? I need to come up with some insulting names for your kind. We've got all these little jabs for humans, but what do we call sentient, annoying books?" 

[I beg your pardon?] 

"Yeah," Amy continued, warming to the idea as she finished her toast. "Humans have all sorts of creative insults for each other. But what about books? Paper-face? Ink-brain?" She tapped her chin theatrically. "No, those are weak. I need something with more bite." 

[This seems like an extraordinarily stupid pursuit.] 

"What about... spine-sucker? Dusty tome? No wait—page-pusher!" 

[Are you quite finished?] 

"Not even close," Amy said, draining her coffee. "How about... text-trash? Or maybe..." She snapped her fingers suddenly. "I've got it! Bokker!" 

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees instantly. The pages of Libris went completely still, no longer fluttering with their usual animation. When it spoke next, its voice was unnervingly quiet. 

[You will refrain from using that particular term again.] 

Amy froze and stared at the book, the playful smirk she'd been wearing vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. The room seemed heavier, the atmosphere thick with tension. 

[Are we clear?] 

She swallowed hard, words struggling to come out for a second. "Crystal," she managed to whisper. 

Libris's pages resumed their gentle fluttering, as if nothing had happened. [Excellent. More coffee?]

What the hell was that???

Amy didn't trust her voice just yet, but she nodded anyway. Her hand shook slightly as she reached for the pot. For a moment, she considered for a moment ending her breakfast in its entirety, but her belly decided against it. 

[By the way, I know how you get when you are bored. So tell me, what did you typically do for entertainment before arriving in this world?] 

She pondered between bites of fruit for a few seconds before responding. "Mostly waste time on the internet. Scrolling through social media, watching stupid videos, arguing with strangers in comment sections..." She trailed off, a wistful expression crossing her face. "I kind of miss it..." 

[An understandable sentiment. The internet is quite a fascinating place to observe.] 

"It sure is. So easy to get lost in..." She sipped her coffee, reminiscing, before a sudden idea struck her. "Wait, can you show me videos? Like, if you can create entire pages of manga, surely you can display moving pictures, right?" 

Libris's pages fluttered in what might have been the book equivalent of shaking its head. [I'm afraid my capabilities don't extend to continuous motion pictures. I can display static images in sequence, but not at the rate required for proper film viewing. It would be more like a very slow slideshow.] 

"So useless…" Amy sighed, finishing the last of her breakfast. The dishes vanished in a shimmer of golden light as soon as she set down her fork. "Can you at least show me some social media posts? Or cute cat pictures? Anything to pass the time?" 

[I can certainly display static images from your world. Any particular preferences?] 

"Just nothing depressing. I've had enough of that lately..." 

The book's pages began to glow, and an image materialized—a fluffy white cat with blue eyes squeezed into a cardboard box full of money, its expression a perfect blend of smug satisfaction. 

Amy's face split into a grin. "Oh my god, that's adorable." She leaned closer, examining the image. "Can you show more cats? Maybe some of those stupid memes everyone was sharing before I left?" 

Libris complied, pages shifting to display a series of cat photos, each one more ridiculous than the last. 

"Keep 'em coming." 

Cats in bizarre positions, screenshots of absurd social media posts, and classic memes that had made the rounds online. Amy's mood lightened with each one, the tension she didn't know she still had drained from her shoulders as she lost herself in the simple pleasure of mindless fast-food equivalent entertainment. 

"These are great, but I'm starting to get antsy," she said after about an hour of scrolling through images. "Got any other tricks up your... pages?" 

[What would you like to do?] 

Amy thought for a moment. "Can we play games? Like, I don't know, tic-tac-toe or something?" 

[I can do better than tic-tac-toe.] The book's pages shimmered and transformed, revealing a three-dimensional chessboard hovering above the surface of the pages. 

Amy leaned closer, fascinated. She still couldn't get used to having a magical-all-creating granny at her disposal. If only it weren't so stingy, she would be able to take so much advantage of it…

[Would you like to play? I'll go easy on you.] 

"Please, do you know who you are talking to?" 

They played for nearly two hours. Despite the book's promise to "go easy," Amy lost spectacularly each time. 

"This is rigged," she complained after her fifth consecutive defeat. "You're a literal magic book with infinite knowledge. How am I supposed to compete with that?" 

[I don't have infinite knowledge. This is all pure skill. I'm just better than you.] 

"Liar. I'm not playing with you anymore." 

The book sighed. [We still have a few hours before the meeting. What do you want to do?] 

Amy pondered for a few minutes. Due to the peaceful atmosphere, she got careless, allowing her mind to drift into the past. Luckily for her, it wasn't bad memories this time, but instead ones that she remembered with love; her as a kid playing with a certain pet.

"Kinda wanna try painting." 

[Very well.] 

The pages glowed again, and a small canvas, paintbrushes, and a palette with various colors materialized on the bed beside her. 

"I'm terrible at painting," Amy warned, picking up a brush tentatively. 

[Art isn't about perfection. It's about expression.] 

"Corny," she muttered before dipping the brush in yellow paint. She began outlining a shape on the canvas, her strokes hesitant at first. But eventually she got into the flow, her hand moving automatically and smoother with each stroke. 

After more than thirty minutes or so of silence, Libris spoke. [What are you painting?] 

Amy grimaced at the question; she thought the piece looked quite finished by now. "I'm trying to paint this golden retriever that used to live next door," she explained, adding more golden-yellow to her palette. "Mrs. Henderson's dog. She was this sweet old lady who would let me paint in her house and play with him whenever I was having a bad day." 

[I thought you were a cat person.] 

"I am," Amy admitted, concentrating as she tried to shape the floppy ears. "But Buddy—that was his name—he was special. Just this big, dumb ball of sunshine that couldn't help but make you smile… I kind of miss them both…" She continued painting, her tongue sticking out slightly in concentration as she added details to the dog's face. "It's coming out looking more like a yellow blob with legs," she sighed, defeated. 

[I can see the resemblance to a canine. The joy in its expression is particularly well-captured.] 

"Thank you, but I know you don't mean it," Amy said, but she was smiling as she added the finishing touches. 

They spent another hour with Amy working on her painting, Libris creating more food, and then talking about random stuff. 

"Well, I'm obviously not destined to be an artist," Amy said, setting aside the paintbrush. The art supplies vanished as soon as she did, though, the completed painting remained propped against her pillow. 

[You seemed to be enjoying yourself nonetheless.] 

"Yeah, it was... nice. Different." She fell back onto her pillows, glancing at her amateur painting. "I can't remember the last time I just... played. Did something without purpose." 

[Not everything needs a purpose.] 

Amy nodded thoughtfully. "I guess not." She glanced at the clock. "Thirteen minutes to go before the meeting…" 

As the time drew closer, Amy couldn't help but feel nervous. She stood from her bed, placing her amateur painting carefully on her desk. "Shit… Guess it's really time to go." 

[…How are you feeling…?] 

The simple question carried a kind of weight that she wasn’t able to describe. Amy's hand stilled completely. It took her more than a few minutes to respond. 

"Terrified," she admitted quietly. "Somewhere in that wing..." She trailed off, her throat tightening. 

[Bad memories…?] 

"Yeah." Amy turned away from Libris, her back now facing the book. "My nightmares made flesh, probably. And I'm walking right toward them." 

[Are you having second thoughts?] 

After a slight second of hesitation, she nodded. "Yeah. I keep thinking about what you said… about that thing of leaving everything behind…" 

[You can still do it.] 

"I know…and I can't believe I'm considering it. But, for the moment, I don't think I will. I can do this." She squared her shoulders. "Besides, I've got you." 

[Indeed you do. Though I can't support you directly. Hope you remember that.] 

"Yet. Once I make the readers believe we share a special power…" Amy muttered, running through their practiced demonstrations in her mind. 

[I'm certain you'll succeed. You can be quite convincing when you want to be.] 

Amy smiled weakly at the book. "Thanks, I think." She checked the time again. "We should get going." She stretched, trying to ignore the subtle tremor in her hands. "Can you get me something to wear? Something..." 

[Practical? Comfortable? Tactical?] 

"Something iconic. But not too crazy. I want to look like someone they'll remember, but not like I'm trying too hard." 

[Iconic?] 

Amy grinned at the book's confusion. "Remember our conversation after having tea with Zayd? I told you I needed to be more proactive. I'm going to make the readers see me—actually see me. I'm going to make everyone fucking love me. Even the haters would have no choice but to care about me." 

[I see… Something iconic then…] 

The book hovered silently for a moment, pages fluttering in what seemed like consideration. Then the familiar golden glow emanated from its pages, particles of light swirling around Amy. When the light dissipated, she found herself wearing fitted black pants, a form-fitting black top under a sleek black tunic, and very expensive-looking boots. The whole outfit was full of lines and details reminiscent of jewels and gold.

Amy examined herself in the mirror, turning to see how the outfit moved with her. "Not bad. Actually pretty practical." 

[I thought you might appreciate something with functionality and flair.] 

"You thought right." She adjusted the cloak, nodding with approval. 

[I always do.] Libris floated closer, hovering at eye level with Amy. [Shall we?] 

Amy hesitantly nodded, taking one final deep breath. She wasn't ready—not really. But it didn't matter. Ready or not, her past was waiting, and this time she couldn't run away from it.

She stepped into the hallway of her dormitory building, Libris floating beside her. The corridor was quiet—most students were probably enjoying their Saturday elsewhere. "Crow's room is on the third floor, right?" Amy asked, adjusting her new outfit as she walked. 

[Fourth floor, actually. Room 417.] 

"Wait, really? That's..." Amy paused mid-step. "I just realized that's just one floor above me. Is it because we are both class S? But Zayd's room is far from here, no?" 

[IPeople living vertically live mere meters apart. Destiny is quite romantic.] 

"Okay, spare me the philosophical commentary; I've got enough on my mind right now," Amy said, approaching the stairwell. She considered taking the magical elevator but decided against it; better to waste as much time as possible. 

She began climbing the stairs, her new boots surprisingly making barely any sound against the stone steps.

When she reached the fourth floor, she paused, suddenly uncertain. The hallway stretched in both directions, doors lining each wall. "Which way?" 

[Left. Five doors down.] 

Amy nodded and started walking, counting doors as she went, her heart rate picking up slightly with each step. 

And eventually, what she dreaded happened: She stopped outside door 417, staring at the dark wood for a moment before raising her hand to knock. 

[Nervous?] 

"No," Amy replied automatically, then sighed. "Alright, maybe a little bit." 

She hesitated for a long while, hand poised to knock. 

This was it—no turning back. Fuck it! Let's do this. 

She rapped her knuckles against the door three times, sharp and deliberate. And to her surprise, the door swung open almost immediately, revealing Crow's tall figure. His dark eyes studied her, then moved to Libris hovering beside her shoulder. 

"Come in," he said simply, stepping aside. 

Amy hesitantly stepped into the room, rapidly taking Libris in her arms. The space was just as she remembered it, simple and without much decoration. Several people were gathered around a table covered in maps and notes. 

Her eyes swept the room, taking in each person in turn. Just like in the pages of the manga, Lyra sat herself on Crow's bed, eating some snacks while looking utterly terrified. Ash, lounging in a chair with deceptive casualness; despite his best effort, he couldn't hide his nervousness. Lain, hunched over the table, finger tracing a path on one of the maps. Zayd meanwhile, was seated cross-legged in a corner, a teacup balanced on his knee. 

And then… Uh…? 

Seated at the far end of the table, eyes already fixed on Amy with surprise, was a tall, athletic girl with copper skin: Iris. 

Wait…what