Hey there, dear reader.
Yeah, you with the curious eyes and the snack crumbs on your shirt.
Don't panic, but this chapter?
No goblins.
No EXP notifications.
No "shadow king of the forest" flexing.
Today, we are diving into my past—
aka The Tragic Backstory Every Protagonist Apparently Needs.
Grab a tissue.
Or don't.
I'm not your mom.
But don't come crying to me when your keyboard gets wet.
I knew it was a dream the moment the smell hit me.
Not the earthy moss of Dravemire.
Not Cornalis' faint demon-perfume (seriously, dude smells like midnight tea).
No, this was… detergent.
Cheap soap.
The scent of my old blanket back in Tokyo.
My eyelids fluttered open, and there it was.
My room.
My old, messy, tiny room.
The posters of my favorite games still clung to the cracked wallpaper.
My PC tower hummed in the corner, its blue light flickering like a weak heartbeat.
Stacks of instant ramen cups leaned against the wall like a sad castle of sodium.
I sat up slowly.
My body felt… weaker.
Smaller.
Sick.
Because this wasn't the Haru who ruled goblins.
This was the Haru who had barely ruled his own lungs.
If you're expecting a glorious hero origin story,
sorry to disappoint.
My real life was less "chosen one" and more…
"guy who forgot what sunlight looks like."
I'd been sick for a month.
The doctors gave it fancy names—
but honestly, it all boiled down to this:
my body was a dying console running on low battery.
Every day looked the same.
Wake up.
Cough a bit.
Pretend to eat breakfast.
Log into Adventure of Gereshine.
Grind until my eyes burned.
While other kids went to school,
I went to digital war.
While they laughed in parks,
I laughed at pixelated bosses.
Pathetic?
Maybe.
But it was the only place I felt… alive.
Yeah yeah, cue the sad violin.
Go ahead, reader.
Pretend you're not feeling a tiny sting in your chest.
I see you.
A soft knock echoed from the door.
Even in the dream, I froze.
I knew that sound.
Mom.
"Haru," her voice came through,
gentle but tired.
"Breakfast is ready… if you feel like eating."
Back then, I always answered the same way.
A quick, "Not hungry,"
because saying more felt like using up HP I didn't have.
The door didn't open.
It never did.
She respected my space,
even when she hated it.
In the dream, I wanted to shout.
To run to the door.
To tell her I loved her cooking even when I barely tasted it.
But dream rules are cruel.
My mouth stayed shut,
and the scene kept playing.
I turned to my computer.
The game menu glowed like a portal.
Adventure of Gereshine.
My world.
My escape.
My… everything.
That night—
the night I died—
I'd been on the final raid.
I saw myself sitting there,
slouched in my chair,
hands trembling over the keyboard.
My character—King HARU_T (don't laugh)—
stood atop a half-built kingdom,
his armor shining like a second sun.
Cornalis was there too.
Even back then, his pixel-perfect bow made me feel…
important.
Like maybe someone—even an NPC—
believed in me.
The final boss fell.
The game showered me in rewards.
Titles, crowns, the number 1 flashing beside my name.
For the first time in months,
I felt something like happiness.
Not the fake "GG" kind.
Real.
Warm.
Complete.
And then—
my hand slipped.
My chest tightened.
The monitor blurred.
Game over.
For me, not the boss.
The dream kept looping small details.
The way my mom's shadow paused outside my door.
The flicker of the PC light.
The silence after my body went still.
You ever have regrets, reader?
Of course you do.
Even you, pretending to be a tough cookie with zero feelings.
My regret wasn't dying.
It was not saying "thank you."
To my mom.
To the players who friended me.
Even to the dumb NPC butler who—
plot twist—
was probably waiting to meet me in another world.
I wanted to scream it all out.
But dream-Haru just sat there,
smiling faintly at his screen,
like he'd finally won the only game that mattered.
A sudden ding echoed in the room.
Not the game this time.
A sound sharper, colder.
My mossy throne.
The jungle air.
Cornalis' calm voice.
"Lord Haru… you were mumbling in your sleep."
My eyes snapped open.
The forest canopy above me swayed,
sunlight spilling like spilled gold.
I was back.
Alive—
well, second-life alive.
I rubbed my face,
half expecting to feel the sticky sweat of my old room.
Instead, my fingers met cool moss.
Cornalis tilted his head.
"Was it… an unpleasant dream, my lord?"
I forced a grin.
"Unpleasant? Nah.
Just a limited-time event.
No respawns left."
He didn't laugh,
but his eyes softened in that sneaky way he does when he knows I'm lying.
And here's where I turn to you, dear reader.
Don't give me that watery look.
Yeah, I saw you wiping your eyes back there.
Don't even try to hide it behind your sleeve.
"What a sad backstory," you're probably whispering.
"How tragic. Poor Haru."
Stop.
I'm fine.
Seriously.
If anything, dying was the best patch note of my life.
I went from a sick shut-in to a literal king of goblins.
Talk about an upgrade.
Would I change things if I could?
…
Maybe.
But I can't.
And neither can you.
So instead of crying over my save file,
how about you buckle up?
Because when I wake up for real,
there are oni to recruit,
a palace to finish,
and probably a priestess somewhere planning to ruin my day.
Somewhere in the back of my mind,
the system chimed softly.
> [System]: EXP accumulation continues…
Current Level: 9
Nine already, huh.
Not bad for a guy who once considered standing up to get water a boss fight.
I stretched,
shaking off the last ghosts of my dream.
"Alright," I muttered,
voice steady,
heart quietly aching.
"Let's go build a kingdom worth dying for… again."
Cornalis bowed,
his silver eyes glinting.
"As you wish, Lord Haru."
And just like that,
the past faded like an old save file,
and the next chapter of chaos waited—
ready to crash into me,
and you,
whether you're ready or not.