"Ah..." I woke up, my mind completely scattered. I slowly opened my eyes, my gaze striking a strange white ceiling. The moment I saw it, I initially thought I was in a hospital, but something felt off.
"Ah...."
My hand instinctively moved to my temple, which was throbbing with a pulsating headache. "What happened?" I muttered with annoyance. My voice sounded foreign to my ears, but that wasn't what occupied my mind; rather, how the hell was I still alive?
I lowered my hand from my temple, trying to think, but it was futile; no clear thoughts formed in my head. I looked at my hand, and then the shock hit me. My eyes locked onto my skin. "This isn't my hand... isn't my skin tone olive?" I said in a trembling whisper. The skin I was looking at now was porcelain white.
When I had placed my hand on my temple earlier, my eyes were closed in pain, and I hadn't been paying attention, so I didn't notice it at first. But, am I imagining it, or has my skin actually turned white?
"Don't tell me..."
Next to the bed, there was a phone lying on an old wooden table. I picked it up with trembling fingers and opened the front camera.
"What??...." I recoiled in terror until my back hit the headboard. Reflected on the screen was a young man with pitch-black hair and hollow black eyes with sharp features. His skin was extremely pale, making him look like a corpse.
"And who is this?" I wondered in bewilderment. "The last thing I remember... is that I died. Yes, I died in an absolutely miserable way. That damn car hit me, and from the force of the impact, I was thrown like a ragdoll toward a construction site, and suddenly a steel rod fell and I—"
Before I could even finish my sentence, a blue screen appeared in the air: [You are mistaken...]
I froze. Could this be a System? But I decided to ask, "Mistaken? What do you mean?"
The screen continued writing rapidly: [You survived the car accident and the falling steel rods despite your severe injuries. However, the true cause of your death was a wrong injection from a trainee doctor at the hospital.]
Silence fell for a second, then I burst into a bitter, sarcastic laugh. "Are you telling me I survived all that certain death—the steel and the cars—only to die in the end because of an injection? A single injection?!"
The System replied: [Yes.]
I stopped laughing and asked seriously, "So... have I been reincarnated into a new world?"
The words appeared: [Yes, you are now in the world of "My Hero Academia."]
My eyes widened. "My Hero Academia? But I've never seen this face in the anime! Who am I?"
[You never appeared because, in the original story, you died before the events began.]
A shiver ran down my spine, and I asked fearfully, "Is it possible that someone in this world wants me dead? Was I murdered on purpose?"
The System answered: [No, no one killed you... but you will die four days from now due to a terminal illness ravaging your body.]
I looked at my pale hand and my corpse-like skin, saying with painful realization, "So this is the reason for my pale complexion and my body's weakness... isn't it?"
[Yes, your body is collapsing.]
I gripped the edge of the bed tightly as despair began to seep into my heart. I asked with one final spark of desperation, "Four days? Is there anything... anything at all I can do to stay alive?"
The screen turned gold, and a single message stretched across its width:
[Yes... Create games, and harvest "Life Points" from the emotions of the players.]
I stared at the blue screen in disbelief. "Create games? Are you kidding me?" I said with a voice full of sarcasm. "You know for a fact that I am just one person. To make a good game—even a simple one—I need an entire team: programmers, artists, composers, level designers... Four days isn't even enough to write the source code!"
The screen did not delay its response, glowing with a calm blue light
[Not necessarily... The System provides the "Innovation Engine." I will process your thoughts and transform them into immediate programming and design reality. I will be your entire team; I will draw, program, and compose based on your mental vision.]
I held my breath. This meant I was the director and designer, and the System was the superhuman executor. But nothing in this universe is free. What was the catch?
The next message appeared immediately:
[The catch: The System will receive 50% of all profits, whether they are "Life Points" or monetary funds resulting from game sales.]
I sat in silence for a moment, thinking about the offer. In my previous world, an indie developer would spend years and vast amounts of money just to release a game that might never be seen.
"Half the profits in exchange for staying alive and saving the trouble of searching for a team that wouldn't even work with a dying man in the first place?" I smiled mockingly as I felt the exhaustion. "This is more than fair... it's an offer I can't refuse."
I took a deep breath, feeling the coldness in my limbs worsening. "I agree to the partnership, System. Now... since we are in a world full of heroes and superpowers, let's give them a different taste of entertainment."
The screen flashed intensely, and a programming interface appeared before my eyes like nothing I had ever seen:
[Partnership activated. Begin by selecting the Genre for the first game. Remember: The emotions of the players are the fuel for your life.]
Why should I even think about it? Of course, my first game will be a horror game.
"Make it horror."
______
Note: The protagonist will not limit himself to horror games; he will also write sad and romantic stories to harvest emotions. Please support me for more chapters, as I have an entire vault of chapters ready. Goodbye!