"If there were a moment where you could become a god… would you take it?"
A young man stood before what looked to be a jester. They stood on a giant pedestal, kissed by the blistering sun. Water streamed from his feet constantly, running off the edges.
Short black hair, dull brown eyes—nothing about him stood out if you passed him on the street. He was small for his age, not short, but not tall either.
His build wasn't terrible; he had little muscle from half-hearted workouts born from boredom rather than discipline.
Overall he looked—painfully average.
"A god…" the boy repeated the jester's words.
"Yes. To be the ruler of your own kingdom—no, no, no! Way too small!"
The jester's voice was rather eccentric. He couldn't stand still, pacing back and forth, repeatedly. His jester's mask was wide—too wide for a knife to carve in a single arch. His tailcoat dragged behind him, the ends soaked in the constant stream beneath the two.
"To rise even beyond that! To rule the universe! A world where even a pauper can become an entity capable of leveling mountains!"
The jester's hands shot outward. His coat let out a muffled flutter as his body whipped towards the sun. The damp fabric settled back into the waters as he declared.
Who wouldn't want to live in a world like that!? A world like that is what I crave! Don't you?
He felt as though he was in some kind of poorly–scripted dream, a sudden nightmare in a series of horrors. He couldn't bring himself to speak nor could he move. The words moved from his mind and died in his throat. Mouth left agape and waiting.
A world where anyone can be a god… The thought crossed his mind; it was just like the RPGs he'd enjoyed so much back home, though the thought of it even being real wasn't something he could begin—no, dare to fathom.
There's no such thing as other worlds! RPGs are just a fantasy! A way for otakus like me to escape—there's no way this is real—It's just a dream, isn't it?!
"So you are interested! Besides your doubt, you believe in the vision?"
The jester whipped toward him, his mask within his face in an instant. The boy's foot slid from under him, crashing to the pedestal in a wet splash.
His mind went into sudden silence, thoughts frozen when faced with the jester.
"You doubt my words, boy?"
The air reached a stabbing cold that targeted the boy's lungs. Instinctively his hand shot to his chest as he watched the jester's mask up close—though he couldn't find eyes staring back.
When did it get this cold—I can hardly breathe!
"After our many meetings and the many words we've shared, you still think this is a fable? Pauper, ye of little faith! This is no dream!"
His hand reached out to touch the boy's face. His rough, calloused fingers were inches away from his eyes.
"You have been chosen by him, pauper. Don't think for a second I'll let you go…"
C—chosen—
BEEP—BEEP BEEP—BEEP—
The sudden beep of his alarm brought the boy from his slumber. He shot up from his bed in a cold sweat. The sheet scattered haphazardly across the bed as if to free himself. He could still feel the biting cold that lingered in his lungs before it warmed.
That damned dream again! It's been constant lately—
He dragged himself to the edge, feet touching the floor, splashing against something wet that lingered under him.
"Ack—!" He jumped.
His water bottle had spilled by his bedside and drenched the floor in cold water.
"Figures… It's just a dream! Calm down—" The boy muttered to himself.
Though I think that was the most aggressive the jester's ever been—thank you, alarm clock, you saved my ass again!
A door rattled against the frame, the loud BANG snatching the boy from his thoughts. He jumped, his head snapping to his door, his little sister standing confidently with a look of grimace toward him.
"You better be getting ready for school like you promised Mom, Fugi!" She declared.
She wasn't much younger than the boy; in fact, they were only a few months apart. Though despite that, it doesn't stop her from pulling the youngest sibling card. She was a complete contrast to her good-for-nothing brother. With brown eyes that sparkled at everyone but him. Though they were the same size, it didn't matter much to a girl.
Couldn't you knock? Also stop calling me Fugi! You used to be way nicer when we were kids.
He retaliated in his mind, not daring to cause a confrontation aloud. The girl looked at him for a solid moment and huffed, turning to the hallway, leaving the door wide open behind her.
Well—that's it… after months of being a NEET, it couldn't last forever, huh—
The boy's hand reached for his scalp, constantly digging into his hair frantically. Wallowing in his past actions.
Curse past me! Why'd I have to go and say all that, huh?!
He paused. His head slumped over hung shoulders as he let out a dragged sigh.
"Today's going to be a long one…"
***
Man this sucks… I'm not getting any of this at all—Fugi sat at his desk as the teacher's droning lecture played on in the back of his mind. The sound of buzzing cicadas droning throughout the entire classroom.
He couldn't help but think back on it, that dream that he keeps having. It's bothering him so much that it's the only thing he could possibly think about.
"Shoya, pay attention to the front! "
The teacher's voice boomed across the classroom, causing the boy to flinch. Students snicker beside themselves, their heads hung low at their desks to hide their laughter.
"R-right…"
His gaze landed on a boy. His hair was a rich yellow, as bright as his smile and orange eyes. It was clear that the boy was popular, though he always had a tendency to leave his uniform untucked. He's been Fugi's friend ever since he joined this godforsaken school, and to still have a familiar face feels refreshing.
"Haruki?" He said with a hopeful voice.
The boy turned towards Fugi, his eyes laced with a look of disbelief, before quickly turning to the front of the class, pretending to not have noticed.
It's only par for the course; after being gone so long, I'm probably just an outcast by now. Man, how lame… Fugi sighed, resting his head in his hands.
A world where anyone can become a god—the idea sounds as appealing as it can get for an otaku like me… Living in my own power fantasy? Who wouldn't give the world just for that alone…
In this world, in this cold reality, nothing is ever certain. No matter how hard you work, you can still fail miserably and suffer. If only it were true.
I won't have to run away from my problems anymore. I can face them head-on… sadly, it was only a dream.
A world where anyone can become a god…
What I'd give for such a world.
"I knew it~" A voice rang that caused his heart to sink. The world around him froze in an instant, followed by a dead silence.
Cicadas stopped buzzing, and birds froze mid-flight. All the while, the voice rang out.
Jester?!
"Your heart longs for power, doesn't it, Pauper! More than your pitiful, cowardly existence!"
The air crackled with an otherworldly energy before it ignited into a beam of light that struck the ground in a deadly hum. The earth cracked under its weight, spreading and engulfing everything in sight, as though it were looking for something.
Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap! I can't move!
His body too remained a victim to the jester's power. His eyes shut tight in fear as the light devoured him whole. He felt the ground beneath his feet disappear in an instant.
"Welcome! One and all!" A voice filled with gravitas echoed within his mind. Wind blew past him in a continuous intense gust. He could feel his hair fluttering wildly against his brow. His uniform pulled behind him as though the wind was trying to take it away.
It was almost like—
"W-wait, HUH?! What's going on!? " The poor boy cried as he opened his eyes, witnessing the spectacle before him. He was falling at intense speeds; around him many others joined in the same fate. Their clothing was foreign, otherworldly.
One of them, a woman whose clothing looked similar to royalty, almost as though they were out of some kind of fantasy MMO. Her jet-black hair fluttering wildly behind her. She was a stunning figure, her cold, stoic face bound to leave her with wrinkles.
"I've hand-selected each and every one of you! Those who look for power in their life! Those who look to improve! Those who are desperate! To create their ideal world!"
Ideal world… so these people—wait, this voice is different!
His eyes fell to the world beneath him, high enough to witness the golden sun as it rose from its slumber. It kissed the world with its magnificent rays, lighting up the very soil beneath it. Villages and kingdoms, ruins and dungeons—it all aligned with the curvature of the world beneath it.
"If you truly mean for your wishes to become a reality…"
"Let the games begin!"
***
BEEP—BEEP
"P—please! Let me go! We can talk this out, can't we?!" Fugi begged, his face forced to tilt to the sky. Smooth leather strained against his skin, the sound ringing through his ears as he struggled to lower his head. He couldn't feel his arms; his body was restrained by his captor.
Though his pleas bore no response.
He could hardly see the blue between the trees that shaded them. Deep within the forest, where no one could hear him scream. A cold blade rested its tip on his Adam's apple, the tip pricking blood as it bobbed.
"Do you really have anything to gain from doing this?!" The boy stammered, "Look, I don't know you, and you don't know me; we can work this out!"
BEEP—BEEP
His breath only grew faster and faster; it burns, his heart burns, it feels like it's going to burst… But the sound of tearing flesh echoes throughout the forest, causing birds to take flight to safety. Fugi felt as the blade dived into his throat; blood gushed out from the wound and tainted the killer's black leather gloves.
His vision grew hazy the more he lost. The blue of the sky and the green forest blending together, he tried to speak, but it would only come out as messy gurgles. Something even he couldn't make sense of.
With a dull thud, he collided with the floor as he was set free, and his eyes turned hollow.
BEEP—BEEP.
Fugi jolted up from his halfhearted slumber, finding himself on the floor in a cabin that sat out in the middle of nowhere. He was surrounded by forest, except for the patch of land protected by a transparent barrier.
His sweat soaked into the wooden floors beneath him as he tried to steady his heart.
There was a constant beeping on his neck, a device clamped around his throat with no latch or screws. Fugi tried removing it multiple times, but it's clear it's there to stay.
It's been months now! I'm almost out of rations, which means I'll have to go out there soon! But if I go out there…
He turned toward the forest; it was eerie. The only sound it carried was the sound of ominous winds. Leaves, dry and new, brushed against each other. There were times animals would go quiet throughout the day. Whether it be a predator or a player crossing past—who can really say?
The game had started months ago now; despite him hiding in his hole, it carried on.
I hope Mom and Mayumi are okay—though this is an isekai, right?! Sometimes time doesn't pass in the real world at all while you're here! So—maybe I can get back without missing too much! I won't be put further behind… But—what if I can't…
I'm already behind enough as it is… even in this game. Nothing's changed.
"You have a total of a year!"
The voice made its sudden appearance in his memory. He remembered being confused upon hearing it, having just woken up after God knows how long—but now it reared its head.
"In your cabins you have a total of a year's worth of food if you ration it."
"With that, you are also provided with a dome that stops danger from entering your cabin, be it player or monster."
"However, the minute you leave your protective barrier, it will collapse permanently, so be wise when you decide to venture out to the tower!"
"And if starvation isn't enough of an incentive to leave, once the year is up, and you have not reached the tower, the device on your neck will explode, just enough to give you a slow, painful death."
"I can't die like this!"
Fugi slammed his head into the wooden wall, his scalp slightly bruised from the impact. He was doomed from the start; there was no way someone like him could possibly compete. He had no powers, though he tried. He had no weapons to survive; he turned the place upside down looking!
Some isekai fantasy this turned out to be! The jester lied to me! I ask for powers, and the only thing I get is transported to another world and dreams about dying over and over without end to boot!
His hand shot up to his throat; he could still imagine the pain as though it really happened. Dying to someone that stood there, waiting outside his barrier for him to surface…
It makes me scared to go out there… Not that I have much choice—I only have five months left.
The boy's brow furrowed overhead.
How close even is the tower anyway? If it's something that I can get to that fast—assuming, under three months, I'll need to leave soon, but… I could already be too late.
The forest grew silent.
No—if there is someone out there, there's no way it's too late yet! I'm banking a lot on if someone's even actually there or not, but it's all I have. Surely someone like that actually has a planned path and is weeding out competition, right? Or they could be a genuine psychopath…
But why would they stay outside my circle specifically? If they really are just a death-loving maniac, they'd go for someone else by now—most likely someone who just got out, right? I've been hearing it nonstop, the sound of high-pitched beeps every so often. Most likely a dome being broken. So there's no way they don't know, right?
But it's not like I know where they are—or how long they'd be stalking me. Maybe they've been eyeing me from the start; maybe they'll just appear when I leave. Wouldn't I have heard the beeping of their collar? Or does it stop when I leave the barrier—which means if the dome is broken, it's possible to hide?
There was a soft vibration in his pants. His hand delved into his pockets, pulling out a flip cell.
"I still have this?" he muttered to himself. Even though he was transported to another world, he still wore his school uniform and deshelved tie too.
Well, at least he gave me these, I suppose—
Fugi stood there, frozen in thought with his phone in hand, before making a sudden run to the pantry. He opened the closet door, seeing the few remaining food and culinary tools that's left.
"Got it…"
***
Peering eyes stared into the young man's abode through the guise of shrubs and shroud. The silence was piercing; their chest tightened in an amateur attempt to control their breathing.
Suddenly, birds flapped to the moon, seeking safety as the world erupted in an ear-shattering beep. Their eyes widened as the dome faded into obscurity. It was done. He was open.
Without wasting a second, they darted from the shrubs, making their way to the cabin. With practiced ease they kicked the door down with a loud thud. The door, digging into the wooden floor, was crushed under heavy boots.
It was empty, the faint hum of silence buzzing through the cabin. Each step they took echoed throughout, stopping at the opened window.
"They left through the back—" They muttered to themselves, their line of thought broken by the sound of a soft beep.
They froze, eyes turning towards the cabinet.
BEEP—BEEP
BEEP—BEEP
It was constant, an anomaly. Their grip tightened around their dagger's hilt, the leather straining against wood. Slowly they approached.
I can't fight someone like that head-on, I know that—though even if it's against the rules, no sensible person will ignore an anomaly in the rules! No matter what they say. Now I can at least get away or extend my time by just a little!
With a sudden tug the cabinet door flew wide open, the killer's shoulders tense when they found the source. Fugi's phone blared an alarm, beeping repeatedly.
Fugi hid within the forest, seemingly losing all sight of his hunter. He knew he couldn't run, just not yet.
I'll see where he goes and run in the opposite direction and look for the tower when I'm far enough!
He sat there, seconds passing by on end with no changes. Something was wrong.
He's not leaving the cabin—did he catch on?!
His heart started to pick up again, his breath growing short. Slowly, he pulled out the dagger that rested in his pocket, waiting patiently. He watched as they stepped outside the cabin, eyes scanning the forest before touching their collar.
BEEP!
A singular high-pitched beep came from his neck, causing the boy to flinch and drop his knife.
No, it wasn't supposed to beep like that! He cursed, watching in horror as the hunter's gaze snapped to him.
"There you are…" Their voice snaked out of their throat, their dagger glinting under the moon's limelight.
He gritted his teeth, hands snapping for the fallen knife. He stumbled to his feet, showing himself prematurely to his aggressor.
"Who the hell are you?!"
The boy demanded, probably a bit louder than he should've. He bit his tongue; as he's met with silence, the figure just stared at him, assessing him.
What's with this guy?! He's just standing there—!
He could hardly finish the thought; a flash of silver shimmered through the night sky. It whistled by his ear; the boy narrowly stumbled away, watching as it got stuck in a tree.
He took this as his chance, stumbling away with his tail between his legs. His form was horrid, and his knife was just decoration. The cold night breeze did nothing to stop him from breaking into sweat and nerves.
I just need to get away! That's totally doable, right?!
Crap, crap, crap, crap!! This isn't what I wanted! I just wanted a simple life with a cool system or something! This is false advertising!
The figure planted their feet into the tree, tugging the weapon out with relative ease. They darted after the sprinting boy, their feet light against the forest floor. Fugi turned to see the figure chasing after him, narrowly being able to avoid the blade they thrust forward.
He stumbled to regain his footing before pointing his kitchen knife towards them. The figure inched forward, step by step, watching as Fugi crawled back further and further into his corner of the forest. He was bluffing, and it was painfully obvious.
Fugi sprinted into the shrubs, the killer giving chase immediately. The forest only grew thicker around them as they lost sight of each other, but they both knew they were nearby. Fugi stayed as low as possible, pressed against the shrubs. He heaved desperately for air, his hand resting on the speaker of his collar.
This is bad—! He thought to himself, peeking beyond the grass to get at least somewhat of a view of his personal grim reaper.
They can just figure my location out just like that?! Nothing in the rules talked about pinging another player's location through their collar! The only bright side is it means I could do the same—but still, so can he… we have to figure out each other's location with nothing but a simple beep?! This just came down to a game of Minesweeper!
Whoever finds who first gets to survive this round!
His head heated up, his chest tightened to control his breath, and he knew the only way out of this was to drive a knife through their heart or his. The blade shook in his hand, the leather hilt drenched in cold sweat.
BEEP—
Fugi's collar sang; rustling grass followed. They were nearby. His chest only tightened more around his breath. A hesitant, shaky hand reached for his collar.
BEEP—
A distant sound echoed not too far from him. He remained light on his feet, or at least tried to, sticking close to the shrubs and hiding behind a tree. The animals of the forest didn't dare make a sound to interrupt their game. Almost watching as they inevitably kill each other.
I wish I still had my phone right about now—come on, Shoya! Think of anything! ANYTHING AT ALL!! You're a dead man otherwise!
He looked down to his chest, seeing the tie that wrapped haphazardly around his neck. His breath hitched with realization. Quickly he grabbed for his tie, slipping the pointed end through the narrow gap between his neck and the collar. The fabric wrapped around the speaker as he tied the loose end.
The hunter reached up to touch their collar again. Silence. They froze slightly but tried again and again and again, though nothing registered. With a frustrated huff, they made their way out into the open, the darkness their only camouflage.
He's out—! The boy stared at him from his own hiding spot. Slowly shifting in the opposite direction until he was directly behind him. His breath quickened; his head felt as hot as the hilt he clutched for so long.
The minute the killer had their back completely to the pauper, he sprinted, his action a whirlwind of blind rage and courage, a desperate attempt to live.
A dull thud echoed through the forest before the killer could even fathom what happened, a sharp stinging pain piercing their back. Their body grew hot, their brain mistaking the pain for intense warmth.
In a blind retaliation, they swung their dagger behind them, narrowly missing Fugi's head. The boy stumbled, accidentally pulling the blade out of the killer's back.
Blood gushes out of the wound, decorating the forest floor with splatters of crimson.
"Y-you…" They could hardly manage the words; their breath had long left them.
"I—i'm sorry—I—" The pauper's eyes only shrunk in horror as he watched, the tainted blade still trembling in his palm.
"I didn't—You shouldn't have—" He wants to justify his actions, but he couldn't watch as the life left the eyes of his killer.
"I'm sorry—"
"I'm sorry, I'm so, so, so sorry!"
His tainted blade fell to the forest floor; the boy hunched on his hands and knees. He was a smell away from throwing up everything he had. In fact, he wanted to—maybe it'll take this painful feeling from his gut. Maybe he deserves to go hungry and die anyway. At least it'll be on his own terms.