Looking at the three system windows that were floating in front of him, one would think that they had been developed by a different development team altogether. One of them resembled a medieval fantasy RPG, the other one was the screams of sci-fi military HUD, and the third one was the air of a mobile gacha game with an excessive budget and a lack of restraint.
They were all shining rather too brightly to his dragon vision.
Even a second he stood still—because what the hell?
This is not a ship cockpit, it was a damp and smoky cave in a medieval world. But here there were UI elements pure futuristic blockbuster, and they were blinking at him as though they had just stepped in out of another dimension.
The shock itself did not last long, however, a second.
This was followed because immediately there was a flash of another thing.
Excitement.
Systems.
The sacred vase of any isekai hero. Bug-tier olden day multiverse cheat codes. The most valuable ally of the world destroyers and the unintended peace-keepers.
And had he landed one and two and three of them?
A perilous little idea was beginning to rise in his chest, and like the soda vigorously stirred.
Wait a minute...
Am I the chosen dragon?
Well, at the moment the "chosen one" might not even be able to raise his head without swallowing dirt, but even then—three systems? That had to mean something.
The windows continued blinking overlaying on each other like impatient pop-ups, and he did not even get a moment to inquire what any of them did and the fusion bar began to fill.
Then, with a parting ding, a message rammed itself into his head, as though it were a revelation of God:
DING! System fusion complete!
Name it has now: The Ultimate God-Tier Self-Reforging Hyper-Evolution Plunder-Engine of War to the Aspiring Tyrant Dragons System.
Title name: Tyrant Dragon System!
Logan: "?!"
He gazed at the name, in the attempt to determine whether the system was trolling him, or merely reproved brevity.
The name was so long it was as though somebody had put all the edgy buzzwords into the blender and pressed the puree button ten full minutes.
"Rrgh... rrh-hrrgh?"
Translation: What the hell do you do? Tyrant Dragon System.
The system, being, as usual, of service, answered without further ado:
DING! Host need not speak aloud. Adequate mental communication is adequate.
This system incorporates the functions of three big subsystems to allow them to be supported comprehensively.
Function One: Special Enhancement Protocol.
Its original name was the Special Female NPC Enhancement System.
The name has been changed by law as a result of compliance with regulations.
Activates with multiple interaction with different female NPCs. Gives massive amounts of upgrade points and no less than one ability or upgrade to each NPC.
Function Two: Evolutionary Modification.
Host can be developed in selected ways through use of upgrade points.
Procedure Three: Villain Protocol.
Killing characters or players, who fit the justice beam, give upgrade points.
Killing regular enemies earn 50-point.
DING! SSS-level Special Female NPC located in the possession of the host.
Rewards: Favorability Meter, Status Panel, and Sometimes Accurate Inner Monologue Eavesdrop Function.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa—slow down! Stop info-dumping!"
The pain in the head of Logan was like somebody had stuff ten tutorial videos in his head and played them on autoplay.
He made a deep breath--as deep as a half-burnt dragon could--and had to re-read it all the way through again.
Next he put the one question that counted:
"NPCs? Players? Am I... in a game? Or is this the real world?"
The voice of the system changed to a serious, nearly ritualistic sound, as though reading some an archaic oracle:
DING! Host now exists in an actual world.
But an unknown being is interfering with this world bringing it into a semi-gamified state.
This is an aspect of a bet that will spell out the doom of the world.
Unless the host gets rid of the players, the repercussions will be disastrous.
"Eliminate the players?"
The brow of Logan scowled—metaphorically. Brows were not done by dragons.
To him, the gamers were simply individuals huddled by keyboards, making ranked match grinding noises, falling dead three times and doubting their life decisions.
Now they were... targets?
Threats?
And there was no VR headsets in this world—this world of monsters and magic. No immersion pods. No neural links.
On the Earth, you could only get about thirty percent immersion with the finest VR technology.
It was explained further in the same relaxed, detached manner in which it employed a PowerPoint presentation at the end of the world:
DING! Players are the products of the world of Azure Terra, where the world of the game industry is highly developed. It resembles the original Earth of the host.
"Parallel world, huh..."
Logan exhaled a breath that he had been keeping back.
So they weren't from his Earth. It was such a relief, no guilt or embarrassment over what we would have done had we attended the same high school. Simply strangers in another variant of the reality.
Still, one thing didn't add up.
"But... don't players respawn? What is the way of getting rid of a person who can simply resurrect?
The answer of the system stopped him in another three seconds.
Then he almost laughed.
DING! Players can indeed revive. The wait time doubles with every resurrection however.
First death: 5 seconds
Second death: 10 seconds
Third death: 20 seconds
And so on, with no upper limit.
When the wait time has one year, the player will automatically be kicked out of the game.
The mouth of the dragon which Logan had was brought in a kind of a grin—if you had not considered the fangs or the smoke which came out of his nostrils.
He was reminded of the occasion when he was banned by a year after he had used a cheat mod to play a game. The first week, he was furious. The second, he was bored. He had forgotten the game existed even after three months.
Yeah. A one-year respawn timer?
Could be death sentence, as well.
And if it doubled each time...
One year. Two years. Four. Eight.
In the meantime he himself—Logan, who was afterwards Vorthras, the black dragon with a system in his skull—would only continue growing stronger. Leveling up. Evolving.
They'd get slower.
He'd get meaner.
This, this getting rid of the players, suddenly did not seem so impossible.
In fact... it sounded more or less possible.
Hell, it sounded fun.
After all, he was a dragon now.
Well, and a half-burnt, second-rate, swamp-dwelling black dragon who can fight like a wet sponge—but still. A dragon.
And dragons?
Dragons play the long game.
...