The Supporting Characters in the Game Have Become Obsessed - Chapter 5

Chapter 5

[Translator – Peptobismol]

Chapter 5: Living in the Game World (5)

At the very beginning.

When I first regained consciousness in the game, my surroundings were filled with nothing but trash.

A mountain of garbage piled so high that the end couldn’t be seen. Because of that, I couldn’t make out anything around me.

The stench piercing my nose was a smell I had never experienced before. It seemed like all sorts of things were mixed in, leaving me feeling nauseous.

‘Where on earth am I?’

Even though I muttered to myself, there was no one around to hear. I even slapped myself to check if it was a dream, but the sharp pain that followed only made the reality sink in deeper.

‘Is anyone there?’

The voice coming from my throat wasn’t my own. It sounded like that of a young child, unfamiliar and strange.

My hands were the size of a fern, and my lowered field of vision was disorienting.

With every step I took, sharp pieces of garbage tore into the soles of my feet. But I couldn’t afford to pay attention to that pain.

I wandered aimlessly, desperately searching for something or someone in my surroundings.

I can’t quite recall what I was searching for or why I was wandering in the first place.

Panic had blanketed my mind, leaving me with no coherent thoughts.

I just wanted to find something, anything, or someone.

And so, I wandered in the garbage dump for a long time.

Eventually, I spotted a few people rummaging through the trash pile somewhere around the middle.

I hurried over to them.

“Excuse me! Over there!”

But I was ignored, and kicked straight in my stomach.

The sudden pain jolted my numb mind into action, and I instinctively clutched my stomach.

My fallen body didn’t seem to want to rise again, and before I knew it, my knees had hit the ground.

I don’t remember exactly what they said after that. It was all a blur. “Who is this? Looks like he doesn’t have anything. Just kick him away.” Snippets of words echoed in the midst of agony.

A moment later, I was kicked again and tumbled deeper into the garbage pile.

Lying on the ground, I gazed up at the sky, now visible through the clouds of grey.

I clenched my teeth. I needed to figure out where I was.

And so, I began to climb the mountain of trash.

I must have been around ten years old. My young body struggled with the effort, but I persisted, thinking that I might be able to figure out where I was from the highest point.

“…This is so damn hard.”

Finally, after much effort, I reached the summit of the garbage mountain.

And there, I encountered a “kid.”

Their hair was unkempt and filthy, obscuring their face to the point where even their gender was indiscernible. But the golden glint in their eyes, shining brightly amidst the dirt, remains etched in my memory to this day.

The kid glanced at me.

Afraid of another blow to my stomach, I instinctively hunched my shoulders and lowered my posture to defend myself.

The height was different from before. If I fell again this time, I might not survive.

And then, the kid spoke.

“What are you staring at? Wanna die?”

“……”

That’s how it was back then.

So, somehow, I ended up becoming friends with that kid.

Even though this is just a world within a game, over the course of roughly ten years, the person I’ve encountered the most and grown closest to was that kid.

And now, I bowed my head facing the kid who I can no longer call a “kid”.

“I’m sorry for not contacting you! But what can I do, the game was just so fun!”

“Ugh, just get lost!”

Suddenly raising like a shooting star from the sky, she gained the nickname “Shooting Star” in the mercenary industry.

Known only to a few, she was the pivotal figure who prevented an incident where the entire city of Neon City was nearly destroyed by a nuclear bomb (the main story of the game), living on as a legend.

The true protagonist of the cyberpunk game I played.

And my longtime friend.

Catherine Lee.

I didn’t raise my bowed head. Timing was crucial for an apology.

I tried to lighten Catherine’s mood.

“I really didn’t mean to not get in touch. There were unavoidable circumstances.”

Of course, there were no such circumstances.

“What circumstances?”

If I said I was playing the game, I’d probably get hit, right?

I don’t know how she grew up to be such a violent kid.

…Come to think of it, she was just as violent before.

“There were some.”

“…Do you really want to die?”

“Really, really. If you give me a chance this time, it won’t happen again.”

“And how many times has ‘this time’ been?”

She’s got that tough guy vibe.

I can’t really remember.

[According to the database, it has been saved three times, I testify.]

…Quiet.

It’s fortunate that Catherine couldn’t hear what Eve said. Otherwise, calming Catherine down would have taken even longer.DiiScôver 𝒏𝒆w stori𝒆s on no/𝒗/e()/lbin(.)com

“I’m really sorry. There won’t be another time I don’t get in touch with you.”

“…Really?”

“Really.”

[The phrase ‘lying through one’s teeth’ is used in situations like this, I learn.]

You shouldn’t be learning that.

Of course, I still believe I haven’t done anything wrong.

And I also think there will definitely be another time when I don’t get in touch.

But if I were to honestly say those words?

I just wanted to walk home on two legs today.

In this situation, I had no choice but to lie in order to survive.

Even if it’s to a close friend.

Personality is one thing, but dirtiness is another.

But…

Come to think of it, when we used to wander around the garbage dump together, we got along well. It seemed like she grew up just fine without any major issues.

Is this how a parent feels?

“…Ha. If you ignore my messages again next time, deal with it yourself. I’ll figure something out.”

“Understood. Miss.”

“Miss is– just keep your promise.”

That went well enough.

Of course, in my mind, I automatically imagined getting scolded again for the same reason next time. But that was for my future self to deal with.

Right now, escaping this situation was much more important.

Only then did I finally lift my bowed head.

Golden eyes stared at me.

“So…”

“Hmm?”

Wasn’t it over already?

Catherine extended her legs and rested her feet on the elegant ceramic table.

Her neatly tied golden hair swayed lightly.

My eyes almost rolled over to her black stockings, but I restrained myself with superhuman endurance.

 

[Translator – Peptobismol]

Catherine’s gaze shifted to the window.

Bright neon signs lit up regularly outside.

Perhaps due to the light outside, a faint red glow lingered on her cheeks.

Perhaps because it was a private booth on the second floor, no noise from the surroundings could be heard.

As a place to avoid people’s stares and take on commissions, soundproofing was guaranteed.

I found myself staring blankly at Catherine, who suddenly fell silent, waiting for her to speak again.

What now?

“…So.”

“So?”

My gold child.

What’s the problem now?

“…So where did you move to?”

“…Huh? All of a sudden?”

My meaningless response prompted Catherine to quickly thrust her head towards me. Instinctively, I pulled my head back and leaned against the back of the chair.

It was surprising to have her face so close.

“What do you mean, ‘all of a sudden’? You moved without saying anything. Where do you even live now?”

“Haha… Well…”

I was trying to keep my distance because it was a bit burdensome, but now I couldn’t just not be honest, right?

“You didn’t even pick a place nearby. And you didn’t tell anyone either… If something really happened and I can’t reach you, I’d have to come find you.”

“Hmm… That makes sense.”

Well, giving her the address shouldn’t matter too much, right? There’s no reason not to tell her.

After a short deliberation, I sent Catherine a message with my home address.

“Phew.”

Catherine, after checking the message, smiled briefly.

The way she quickly gets angry and quickly gets over it was truly golden.

Her anger seemed to have subsided.

This time, I spoke first.

“So, why were you looking for me so desperately?”

I was curious about the reason behind the flurry of messages I received over the past week.

At first, I thought it might be an important commission. But that didn’t seem to be the case. If it were, there would have been mention of it in the messages.

“At first, I just wanted to see your face.”

“Hmm.”

“But then I got mad because you didn’t answer for a week.”

“Ah.”

I asked something that didn’t need to be asked.

Trying to quickly change the mood, I nodded repeatedly.

“I-I guess there was reason to worry.”

“Tsk. Now you know.”

Well, normally I’d never not check in for such a long time. Even if it was late, I’d check in at least once every two days.

But this time, there was an unavoidable reason (being too focused on the game) for that.

Feeling much more at ease, I asked Catherine.

“So, can I go home now?”

“?”

Oops.

Was the atmosphere not ready for that yet?

For the second time today, I bowed my head.

* * *

“Phew. Is it over?”

[Why are you making meaningless remarks, I ask.]

“…Just.”

It was a joke. K.

The sorrow of a prophet who is not understood.

Only after making the promise of “I’ll definitely contact you next time” was I able to escape from Catherine.

Of course, it was already nighttime outside.

The night in Neon City was deeper than in other areas.

Especially in the lower levels.

Contrasting with the bright light of the high-rise buildings and neon signs, the ecosystem of the dark side of the city was depicted.

The lower levels got darker as the upper and middle levels got brighter. It was a natural order of things.

The chilly night air was palpable. I walked slowly along the quiet street.

Perhaps because it was late, even the shadows of people were fewer compared to the evening hours.

Although I could feel the gaze of passersby from the alleyways, I wasn’t stumbling around drunk.

The likelihood of getting into an argument or being attacked was low.

“Hey, you there!”

“Come over here for a moment!”

I said it was low, not zero.

Sigh.

I’ll just send them home peacefully.

I scratched my head roughly.

I don’t have enough time to play games, after all.

I glanced at the alley where the voices were coming from.

“…Those guys from in front of the elevator earlier?”

[I affirm.]

There stood the two mercenary men who were gossiping about me earlier, with their swaggering posture.

The color of the smoke they exhaled was strange.

It was painted with both red and blue, yet it didn’t mix strangely. In any case, it didn’t look good for their health.

I approached them in the alleyway.

“Why?”

But without saying a word, they exhaled smoke at my face.

I heard the sound of the purification filter operating from the masks.

“We also want to make some good friends.”

“Yeah, yeah. We invited you to be friends.”

“Is that so?”

[Voice evaluation module activated. With a probability of over 90% that it’s a lie, I evaluate.]

I know that without you having to say it.

Like the fact that one hand is behind their back, or the sense of mockery in their expressions, or the fact that they were gossiping about me earlier.

It’s not even 90%, but rather 100%.

Gosh, it’s just becoming tiresome.

I subtly manipulated the “mana” in the air.

Even a cyberpunk mage is still a mage.

Even mana stained with smoke is still mana.

This was one of the perks of being a mage.

Since there are hardly any mages around, openly preparing magic goes unnoticed.

It’s not like it’s preparing for danger either. It’s an advantage of being a bit of an outlier in the job market.

“You guys were talking about me in front of the elevator earlier saying that I have a nasty temper, didn’t you?”

“…Huh? You heard that–”

“Well, you aren’t wrong.”

Immediately after, I detonated the mana gathered under their feet all at once.

Boom!

“Woahhh!”

A sudden gust of wind blew through.

The generated blast shook the entire alleyway.

The surrounding neon lights went out in an instant, and trash flew in whirlwinds in all directions.

Plus, the two guys flying into the sky.

“They might survive if they’re lucky.”

[I appreciate the view.]

I almost wasted my time on something useless.

I should hurry back home.

‘After I go back home, I won’t come out for a whole month this time…’

I resolved as such.

—

The next day, someone knocked on our door.

It was Catherine standing there.

“Hey, hey, I found out that the apartment next door was empty. So, I moved in there.”

…Ah.

[Translator – Peptobismol]