Living as an NPC—no, existing as one—was an incredibly bizarre experience.
No need to breathe. No need to sleep. Even the concept of fatigue didn't exist on my status screen.
My body, a dense black fog, was in constant flux, anchored a few inches above the floor in mid-air.
Adhering to the idle animation set by the system, the fog would automatically waver even if I did nothing, occasionally extending ink-like tentacles to stroke the empty void.
Even the blinking of the hundreds of eyeballs floating all over my body was left to the system's RNG.
However, my consciousness was terrifyingly clear.
It was likely the blessing of the special class [Omniscient Flesh].
Hundreds of book pages and parchment fragments constantly floated around me like miniature planets, tracing orbits and revolving in the air.
My hundreds of eyes were simultaneously reading the ancient runes, magic circles, and item flavor texts written on those pages.
No, rather than reading, it felt like being constantly synced with YGGDRASIL's massive database, continuously downloading information.
It was enough information to burn out a human brain, but the processing power of a Level 100 [Elder Aberration] handled it with a cool face; though it's questionable whether I even had the concept of a face.
I had a will. I had consciousness. But I couldn't take a single step of my own volition.
It was like a kind of infinite hell, but compared to that agonizing pain and exhaustion right before my death from overwork—when every alarm in my body was blaring—it seemed somewhat better.
Then one day, a flash of light indicating the opening of a Gate appeared in the specific area of the 8th Floor where I was stationed: the 『Vault of Wisdom』.
"Whoa, it's been a while since I came here. Still an absurd amount of books as always..."
"Right? Just organizing them was a massive pain. Look, over here."
Footsteps and voices.
My hundreds of eyes captured the intruders.
One was my creator, Bellriver. A grotesque, fleshy lump of an aberration with four arms.
And following behind him were two deranged monsters.
One was a giant skeleton clad in a sinister aura. He wore a luxurious robe and held a dark red, glowing orb in his abdomen. The pinnacle of the undead, an Overlord.
The other was a mass of melted, sludgy slime. A giant slime that moved by crawling. An Elder Black Ooze, possessing the ultimate acidic powers.
If this were reality, I would have gone mad with terror the moment I encountered them.
But the knowledge database within me instantly pulled up their true identities.
The Guildmaster of Ainz Ooal Gown, Momonga. And one of the oldest members, Herohero.
Those Supreme Beings I had seen countless times in anime and novels.
To think the day would come when I'd see them in the flesh. Inside, I was trembling with the unbridled joy of a massive otaku.
"Hey, let me introduce you. This is the new Record Administrator I made for this floor, Tawil Balah." Bellriver pointed at me.
"Eugh..." Herohero let out a thoroughly repulsed sound, making his slimy body quiver. "It's somehow... incredibly ominous... I thought my eyes were going weird from work exhaustion... Bellriver-san, have you been reading Cthulhu TRPG rulebooks again?"
"Hahaha, you caught me. But hey, for the master of the Vault of Wisdom, looking like an 'entity that delved too deep into taboos' sets the mood much better, doesn't it?"
"No, it is a magnificent piece of work, Bellriver-san!" Momonga, in his skeletal form, leaned forward, his jawbones rattling. His tone conveyed genuine admiration. "This floating sensation, the particle effects of the text revolving around him... Especially this animation where the countless eyes move irregularly. You must have poured a considerable amount of data capacity and Creator Tools into this, didn't you? It's truly fascinating!"
"You get it, Momonga! Just fine-tuning this alone kept me up until 3 AM yesterday."
"3 AM... Bellriver-san, don't you have an early shift tomorrow? You're chipping away too much of your real-life HP."
"I don't want to hear that from you, Herohero-san. You haven't been able to log in lately because of endless overtime, right?"
"Yeah... Honestly, I feel like I'm being dissolved in a sea of acid by my black company..."
I listened to their conversation in silence.
What is this?
On the outside, they looked like an assembly of evil beings plotting to destroy the world—an executive meeting of a demon lord's army. But on the inside, it was just a complaint session among exhausted Japanese corporate workers.
In my previous life, I was exactly like them. Working overtime until late at night, running on energy drinks, and pouring my meager free time into games and anime like this.
That's exactly why, when Herohero used the metaphor of a black company's sea of acid, I wanted to violently nod my head in agreement, screaming in my mind:
I know, I know exactly how painfully true that is!
But I am an NPC.
My body, bound by the system, wouldn't twitch a single inch. I could only eerily sway my black fog and stare back at them with countless eyes.
"So, I heard this guy isn't just a flavor NPC?"
After thoroughly venting about real life, Momonga turned back to me.
"Yeah. I wrote a script so that when guild members want to know something, they can throw a query to him via chat or voice, and he'll automatically search and present the relevant YGGDRASIL data or the location of magic scrolls within this vault."
Bellriver puffed out his chest.
"Give him a try."
"I see... Well then." Momonga stepped forward. The light of his red eyes pierced straight through me. "Tawil Balah. Show me the verification data regarding the casting interruption of the 9th Tier Magic 『True Death』, and the accompanying list of items."
That voice command was the trigger.
Independent of my will, my body—long, thin, ink-like arms—smoothly extended into the air.
At the edge of my vision, from one of the massive bookshelves, a thick grimoire and three scrolls popped out as if ejected.
Defying gravity, they glided through the air and blended into the cluster of pages orbiting me.
I was surprised myself. Even before Momonga finished asking his question, my brain database had completely pinpointed where that information was located within the vault.
Exactly like unconsciously knowing how many fingers you have on your hand.
And then, it was time for me to speak. No voice came out. Instead, the books and parchment pages spinning around me began to emit light all at once.
『—Answer. Extracting records matching the specified conditions. Verification data for interrupting the 9th Tier instant-death magic is located in Archive Seven, Block B. The corresponding counter-items are...』
My words materialized in mid-air as glowing letters of purple and blue.
Text was printed into the void one after another as if being typed out, neatly arranging itself right before Momonga's eyes.
"Whoa...! This is convenient!" Momonga let out a voice of sheer admiration. "Instead of searching through the clan's shared folders or the Wiki every single time, we can just ask him and the exact documents we need pop right up? The visual effects are perfectly wizard-like, too. Fantastic!"
"Right? I shoved everything into his database; monster weaknesses we've gathered as a guild, drop item conditions, you name it. If you get stuck on a raid, just ask this guy."
"That's a lifesaver... Lately, I've been so exhausted from work that just reading the text on the Wiki gives me a headache," Herohero said, his jelly-like body drooping limply.
I gazed down at them in silence.
Supreme Beings.
I felt a profound sense of kinship. And at the same time, an immense wave of loneliness washed over my chest.
I wanted to talk to them. I wanted to nod along to their work complaints and geek out over anime. I wanted to praise Bellriver, saying, "You're really good at building systems and writing macros," and I wanted to comfort Momonga with a, "Please don't push yourself too hard, Satoru Suzuki-san."
But I couldn't.
Because I was an NPC.
I was nothing more than an observation device trapped within the shell they had designed:
Tawil Balah, Guardian of Knowledge.
...Well, whatever.
I muttered softly in my mind, while maintaining the sterile idle animation forced upon me by the system.
Compared to dying of overwork in my old world and having to swallow muddy water struggling in some other fantasy world, being a 'convenient dictionary' that actually helps you guys might be a much more peaceful existence.
The conversations of the Supreme Beings sounded exactly like corporate drones, exactly like otaku, and undeniably like modern people of Earth. How much they loved Nazarick. How much this guild was a precious emotional sanctuary for them.
It came across so painfully clear in every fragment of their words.
After that, several other Supreme Beings visited the Vault of Wisdom.
They threw various questions at me, and I continued to provide knowledge mechanically yet perfectly, strictly adhering to the system.
Sometimes, special NPCs from my floors like Victim, Rubedo, and Aureole Omega would make an appearance, but I couldn't initiate conversation with them either.
I simply continued to engrave records in this closed space with my omniscient flesh.
Until the time of their end eventually arrived. Until the day the world of YGGDRASIL ended its service, and everything returned to nothingness.
Or—until the day this miniature garden called Nazarick took flight into an entirely different world.
Deep within the 8th Floor, I quietly waited for time to pass.