Mercury was a known metal that had caused the madness of several hatters in the 18th to 20th century.

They use mercury to stiffen the felt in hats, and by inhaling the vapors brought the ‘Mad Hatter’ disease.

It was characterized by extreme excitement…..

“WHOOOOHOOOO!!!! YOU SUCK, URSA MAJOR! COME ON, BRING IT ON!!!!”

Tremors…..

“Whoops. Sorry, I dropped the ball! My hands are a little shaky!”

Change in moods…..

“Sob… sob… why do I suck in this stupid game so much…”

And finally, splitting headaches and weakness of the muscles.

“Are you okay, Cermin? Cermin, can you hear me?” A Capere Astra team member exclaimed. “Cermin, we’ll lose the game if you don’t focus!”

“I’m trying….. Ackk! It just hurts so much…. It hursts so much…”_.

It was a disaster. The score was now 4 points for Ursa Major and 3 points for Capere Astra. There were only 10 rounds, and 7 rounds have passed.

If Ursa wins the next round, that gives them 5, and even if Capere Astra won the next two rounds after that, it results in a draw of 5-5. There would be a death match, an extra round to determine the winner.

They need to win at least 2 out of the 3 remaining matches. If Ursa reaches 6 points, it’s an automatic loss.

When they went into the Breakroom again, Cermin was shaking and muttering, holding his head like it would break.

Volken went by his side and patted his head. “Are you scared?”

“H-Huh?” Cermin asked.

“This is your first game, it’s understandable that you’re so scared right now. It will be alright. Just keep pushing through and trying your best.”

Ronin chuckled bitterly. ‘His manipulation skills are not so bad. For a jock.’

“I-I-I’m not scared!” Cermin said, laughing nervously. “I’m just a little out of it… Must be dizzy because of the heat… And really tired…”

“Should we substitute him with someone else, Captain?” A worried member asked, placing a hand at the shaking Cermin. “He’ll keep dragging the team down at this rate—“

“I am not dragging the team down!” Cermin insisted, sounding a little irritated. “I’ll be fine, I’ll be fine! I’ll help us win from those losers, I managed to get us the first score, haven’t I?”

He looked a little crazed when he said. “Just put your faith in me, guys! I can lead us to victory!”

“I believe in Cermin. He’s our little Goldie.” Volken patted his friend’s head and smiled.

Then he wore a concerned face. “But if you really feel too tired and hurt, you should tell me, Goldie. We can get you to rest on the bench and have a medic take care of you.”

He acted like some brotherly figure, continuously patting Cermin’s back and comforting him. “And I say this as a friend worrying for your health, not just a team captain.”

Cermin shook his head. “No, no….. I can do it. You chose me because you believe I can do it, and I won’t let you down.”

Ronin winced. Min Cheng never changes, he really was always the type that gets too soft and gullible because of friendship.

He’s a coward but if he had some kind of buddy NPC character believing in him, he suddenly gains belief in himself. Friendships were both his source of strength…..

And weakness.

This was the type of idiocy that makes him unworthy of being a protagonist, but it was also what makes him a perfect prey for a deceptive villain.

And so, the team went back to the field with one member still out of sorts and experiencing severe mental incapacitation.

They managed to somehow win this round against Ursa Major. If they win the next one, they would stand better chances of actually gaining victory.

After the talk earlier, Cermin’s performance improved a little, but it was obvious that he was trying his darndest to ignore the migraines and mood swings caused by the potion.

However, Ursa won the next round, and that gives them 5-4. They could still win the next round and reach a death match, and Capere Astra had become even more desperate, employing all kinds of tricks in their arsenal just to make sure the next win was theirs.

They managed to reach it. 5-5. A death match was announced by Rabuka and Pavone, and both schools held their breaths in anticipation.

There has never been a death match between the Academy and any Schoola for over 40 years already.

At the Breakroom, Volken was giving a pep talk to raise their spirits. His mind also changed, as there was a 50% chance they could win after all.

After the pep talk, he approached Cermin. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Yeah, I’m all good, Captain!” Cermin smiled.

But Ronin knew he was lying.

(I have to hold on before it’s over….. It hurts like hell but I have to keep going… The team needs it…. I have to keep going…)

Volken may not be able to read thoughts, but he can easily tell from the buckets of sweat dripping down Cermin’s pale face that he was just putting up a brave face.

“Don’t force yourself. This is the death match now, if you’re feeling anything bad at all, ask for substitution now. We can’t change in the middle of the game.”

Whether they win or lose, Volken still gets what he wants. Cermin will be affected forever by his experience in this game, as well as the potion.

When they win, he will be praised as a Captain. If they lose, he can blame it on a member being out of it and insisting to continue playing despite his condition.

Cermin looked at him directly with those bright blue eyes. “I can do it.”

And he did.

For about half of the game.

In the middle of a swordfight between another Hero mage sword user from Ursa, Cermin suddenly stumbled in his feet, and his eyesight blurred until the world turned into a spinning mess.

“Cermin!” One exclaimed as he collapsed.

Withiut Cermin fighting off this Ursa player, the team’s defense weakened, and the death match goes to…

Ursa Major.

The game was over, but everyone was still on the field, gathering around the fallen player. Ronin watched as someone carried the sleeping Cermin to the medic, who then decided he should be brought to the infirmary.

“Come on.” He told Kai, as they mixed into the panicked crowd and followed after Cermin.

——————————

When Cermin woke up, he was in the infirmary’s bed, the sun shining down from the window.

He blocked it out with his hand, and noticed that it was gold.

Right, he was transmigrated. He had dreamed of that again, and it repeated and repeated, that he forgot that he was no longer Min Cheng and was Cermin Drychspiel.

That dream of blood dripping down the floor and someone calling out his name.

He shooked the dream off, and sat up.

He looked at the side, and found a strange bottle with a note written on it.

The note says:

‘This is an antidote for mercury poisoning. You have been sabotaged. Search it up yourself if you don’t believe it.’