Chapter 2
At this moment, only Narumi Toru remained in the hall. Several young men who had been waiting for an opportunity seemed to have taken advantage of the lax management after the boss left and began handing out flyers hidden behind their backs to the audience who had come early to scout the place.
"Um… excuse me for interrupting, gentlemen over there?"
The curly-haired boy, long accustomed to this sort of thing, raised his hand and stopped them with a businesslike smile.
"We can't hand out flyers here, please understand."
"Hey, buddy, it's just handing out flyers. Don't be so stingy."
The man in the lead looked like a hoodlum straight out of a gangster drama; his demeanor and appearance perfectly matched the stereotype of a carefree, irresponsible delinquent.
Underground performance venues were always a mixed bag, and it wasn't uncommon for a few people to take advantage of the chaos to do something illegal.
"I haven't seen you around before—you're a new face? You came all the way to Shimokitazawa and don't even know who I am?"
A man with dyed blond hair approached Narumi, who was standing in front of the bar, flanked by a few companions. Still, Narumi kept a calm smile.
"Oh dear, should I have any impression of guys who sneak around handing out flyers in the exhibition hall?"
The contrast between the boy's harmless smile and the insult in his words only deepened the provocation.
"Besides, isn't the one who's really famous in Shimokitazawa that senior who always speaks without thinking?"
"Tch, you're just a wage earner… With that skinny little body, don't worry about us; we won't stop you anyway."
The blond-haired man looked Narumi up and down with disgust. His words, however, made Narumi raise an eyebrow.
"So you've been observing me that closely—do you like me?"
"Huh?! What kind of nonsense are you spouting all of a sudden? Who would like a pretty boy like you?"
"Even though I can't remember what you look like if I close my eyes, you seem to have a pretty strong impression of my figure…"
The boy's hesitant, embarrassed tone only angered the blond-haired man further.
"I'm not like you! Don't talk nonsense, you weird, effeminate sissy!"
"Hmm~ people say mothers are strong, and I, this sissy, am probably more masculine than you. But unfortunately, I like girls. Sorry—no blue eyes."
"Damn it, you win! You've disgusted me to death!"
Kiiro finally left, grumbling. His companions tried to stifle their laughter but followed him out anyway.
When things had calmed down, Narumi watched the group disappear, then put on his usual customer-service smile and went back to the front desk.
He had only dared to mouth off because he was certain the others wouldn't cause trouble in the venue—handling troublesome customers was an essential skill for anyone in the service industry.
A short-haired blue-haired girl, who had been watching everything from a distance, blinked once, glanced at Narumi, and then returned to the rehearsal room, finishing the last dumpling skewer in her hand.
If she acted coquettishly toward the manager about what she'd just witnessed, she might have earned praise—or even a small raise—but Narumi wasn't the type to seek credit that way.
Of course, these kinds of funny stories were fun to share later with friends.
> [Childhood Sweetheart Victory]: Hahahaha—I'm dying of laughter! You're really something! It's true what they say—when you're being humiliated, the most effective comeback is to ask if they're into you!
That night, after dinner, the "part-time worker soldiers" finally had a rare moment to relax and play games.
Narumi Toru sat in front of his laptop, watching his teammates type line after line of text into the chat box while clicking the mouse to dress up the female elf character he was controlling.
He'd been playing RR14 for quite a while now. His usual partner was a burly Luga-type player nicknamed Childhood Sweetheart Victory.
They had met during a dungeon run. The aggressive "Victory" was shocked that Narumi could actually keep him alive through his reckless charging, and, touched by this miracle, immediately added him as a friend—though in truth it was because no other healer could handle his antics.
> [Childhood Sweetheart Victory]: The way you talk reminds me of a woman I know in real life who has an incredibly sharp tongue. I really want to see what it'd be like if you two started arguing.
After playing together for months, their conversations often wandered beyond the game.
> [I Want to Eat Your Ahoge]: Oh? If it's just sarcasm, I actually think that kind of girl's pretty cute.
[Childhood Sweetheart Victory]: Bro, don't be a masochist. That kind of woman isn't cute at all.
[I Want to Eat Your Ahoge]: Dude, why are you reacting so strongly? Could it be you've got a crush on her?
[Childhood Sweetheart Victory]: Absolutely impossible!!!
Narumi chuckled and took a sip of water. On screen, his companion's character made an exaggerated angry gesture.
What he didn't know was that somewhere else in the city, a blonde girl wearing a loose green tracksuit was pounding her desk in frustration at that exact same teasing message.
> [I Want to Eat Your Ahoge]: By the way, didn't you watch that anime that won best of the season?
[Childhood Sweetheart Victory]: I saw some of it. The character designs and art style were average. The ending was awful—the newcomer won and the childhood friend was just used as a prop. Romance anime are so disappointing lately.
[I Want to Eat Your Ahoge]: Hmm, now that you mention it, yeah… kinda weird that yoshu won.
[Childhood Sweetheart Victory]: Right, right~
[I Want to Eat Your Ahoge]: Feels like there aren't many good romance anime this year. Maybe we should wait for Kasumi Utaha's light-novel adaptation next year.
[Childhood Sweetheart Victory]: …I don't get why you value her so much. Her labels are just marketing. Still, I wish her success.
[I Want to Eat Your Ahoge]: I've read her books. The way she handles emotion—so delicate and honest—it's mesmerizing. If it gets adapted, it'll be a masterpiece.
[Childhood Sweetheart Victory]: Pssh, that's not guaranteed. Plenty of writers do better. She's good, sure, but anyone can write a romance light novel. Maybe even you, Ahoge-kun!
Narumi suspected his friend had a lot of opinions about Kasumi Utaha.
> [I Want to Eat Your Ahoge]: Oh ho, if I actually wrote one, would it become popular?
[Childhood Sweetheart Victory]: The industry's practically dead. Breaking in isn't easy.
[I Want to Eat Your Ahoge]: Oh dear, but if I really wrote one, it'd become a hit.
[Childhood Sweetheart Victory]: Then I'll find you an artist—for free.
[I Want to Eat Your Ahoge]: Really?
[Childhood Sweetheart Victory]: Seriously. I've got connections… if you can actually write it.
Narumi smiled. Maybe this was just friendly bragging—but it was a nice kind of bragging.
After finishing two more dungeons, he logged off.
Of course, when he joked about becoming famous, he knew perfectly well how ruthless the industry was.
He'd even sent a few manuscripts to light-novel publishers before; most never replied.
Ordinary works, like ordinary students, fade into obscurity. He understood that.
Still, his fingers moved on their own. He opened a light-novel contest website, his eyes catching a bold banner:
> Kasumi Shiko-sensei is a judge! Submit your masterpiece!
He scratched the back of his head, then double-clicked to open a blank Word document.
In the quiet, narrow room, the only sound was the crisp tapping of keys.
He wrote for half an hour, repeatedly deleting and rewriting the protagonist's design.
When his inspiration stalled, he got up to stretch and splash water on his face.
But when he came back, something unusual on the screen caught his attention.
The blank Word window was gone.
In its place was a black dialog box with white text in the center:
> Future Simulation
"…?"
Narumi's first instinct was to open his antivirus software and delete the pop-up.
The internet was full of filthy ads and shady plug-ins—but this was a bit much.
The mouse cursor faded, then vanished completely. Even pressing the power button wouldn't shut the device off.
"…Interesting."
Simulation, huh? Just like some surreal light-novel plot.
With a "take-it-easy" attitude, Narumi clicked Start Simulation.
---
Name: Narumi Toru
Gender: Male
These days, even pop-up games could access personal data? Creepy.
> [Start rolling attributes—complete.]
[Family Background: It's a pity your family is neither wealthy nor happy; merely one of countless dysfunctional households hiding behind the façade of harmony.]
[Lack of Knowledge and Skills: Your dull, high-pressure education made you rebellious, but ignorance is its own obstacle.]
[Unconventional Thinking: Common sense? Merely shackles that bind the heart. You disdain following rules.]
[Emotionally Detached: Love, hate, life, death—you don't understand the magic that connects people.]
[Eloquent and Articulate: Lacking physical strength, you focused your points entirely on speech.]
"Damn it," Narumi muttered. "Every attribute's a debuff. That's it—no more gacha games for me."
But as he clicked to begin the simulation, images that weren't his own flooded his mind.
A businessman in a glass tower overlooking the city.
A shut-in absorbed in a VR world.
A writer accepting an award.
A parent laughing with a family.
A stranger basking in neon nightlife.
All of them shared one thing—the same face as Narumi Toru.
As he stared, millions of identical faces turned to meet his eyes.
What… is this?
"Ugh…!"
The visions vanished.
A voice he'd never heard before echoed in his mind—soft yet unavoidable.
> Those people are all you, yet none of them are you.
The sound seemed to come from everywhere at once, like surround audio inside his skull.
> You've played role-playing games before, haven't you? But have you ever played one where you are yourself?
Narumi froze.
Could it be… one of those simulation-system tropes?
"That's right," the voice said smoothly. "You can treat me as a system if you want."
"How the hell can you read my thoughts?" Narumi muttered.
> You're wondering why I'm here. It's simple: you'll enter a specific scenario, play yourself, and complete the challenge. That's the rule of this game.
"In short… if it's just a game and I don't lose anything, that's fine. But—"
Narumi leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow.
"If a game isn't fun, there's no point playing it. So what do I get out of it? Happiness? Thrill? Immersion? What if those mean nothing to me? Why should I follow your rules?"
> You're intelligent. I enjoy serving people like you.
"So can I skip the simulation and just rely on cleverness to get some benefits?"
> There's no such thing as a free lunch.
The voice was calm, almost gentle, but entirely devoid of warmth.
> Because what I offer is a harmless, sincere, family-friendly dating game.
"…Dating game?"
> Yes. A dating sim. You'll meet your soulmate, experience a romance—sometimes innocent, sometimes passionate, sometimes desperate. You'll guide the relationship to its conclusion… but it will inevitably end in death.
Narumi blinked. "…Is it too late to cancel my subscription now?"
> [Unsubscription unavailable.]
"Unsubscribe, unsubscribe, unsubscribe, unsubscribe—!"
End of Chapter 2