"Sigh..."
At three in the morning, in a cramped rental room, Tanaka Jin let out a long, weary breath. The air was thick with the smell of cheap braised beef instant noodles and that unique mix of emptiness and tissues that only appears in the so-called sage time after you finish.
On his screen was the ninety-ninth R18 game he had just cleared, every CG unlocked, every route perfected, save data shining like a medal of dishonor.
Beside the monitor, rows of waifu figures stood in a clear acrylic case, quietly watching him. From tsundere black-haired beauties to gentle married ladies, from lively underclassmen to aloof cool baddies, everything a man's heart could crave was right there.
This was his kingdom, his harem, and his only comfort.
In reality, he was just a freshly graduated corporate guy, getting gaslit by his boss every day, used as a scapegoat by his coworkers, stuck with a meager salary and a future as hazy as cigarette smoke.
Forget a harem, he had never even held a girl's hand.
"God, Buddha, Cthulhu, whoever, I don't care who it is!" Tanaka pressed his palms together and bowed earnestly toward the cabinet full of waifus, face solemn with devotion.
"Please, I'm begging you, let me transmigrate! I don't need to be some overpowered chosen hero, I don't want to save the world, just send me into these games or those hentai worlds... even if it's just for one day!"
His voice rose in a strangled cry, with a faint hint of sobbing hidden behind the bravado.
He knew it was stupid, knew it was pure nonsense, but he was really, truly done with this shitty reality.
[Ding...]
A crisp electronic sound rang abruptly inside Tanaka's head, exactly like one of those pop-up ads from a trashy browser game, stabbing straight into his soul.
[Detected host's wish aligns with core values of this system...]
[Binding "LSP Paradise System"...]
[Binding complete! Welcome, chosen one, veteran old perv... Tanaka Jin!]
A half-transparent blue panel unfolded before his eyes. The pixelated font blinking on it was painfully familiar, dripping with the retro flavor of classic GALGAME menus.
Tanaka: "...?"
A hallucination? It had to be. He must have stared at the monitor and fapped for too long, scrambling his optic nerves.
He rubbed his eyes hard. The panel was still there. It even wobbled playfully, as if greeting him with a "Hi there~".
[Novice gift pack has been delivered!]
[Opening "Hentai Russian Roulette"!]
[This system comes with one hundred classic hentai anime, popular voice-acted adult series, and legendary eroge titles, assembled into the roulette of destiny. Each time, the system will randomly select one world, assign the host a reasonable identity, and issue a "Core Mission".]
[Within the specified time limit, the host must, by any methods he wishes to use, establish deep bonds with the heroines of that world and achieve harmony of body and soul in order to earn generous rewards and unlock the next spin of the roulette.]
[Friendly reminder: this system exists solely to help the host fulfill his lifelong dream. The process is absolutely safe, the experience absolutely real. Please thoroughly enjoy your stay in LSP's paradise!]
Tanaka's jaw dropped into a perfect "O".
This... this system description, every single line hit his exact XP like a precision strike. This wasn't a system, this was the freaking Aladdin's Lamp that had achieved self-awareness!
[Randomly selecting the first world from the 100 available...]
A virtual Russian roulette wheel began to spin, sparkling brilliantly.
Familiar titles flashed past in a blur. Famous hentai and R18 eroge worlds flickered before his eyes: "Yosuga no Sora", "Moonlight Lady", "Oni Chichi"...
[Selection complete! Target world: "Ero Game! H and Games Must Both Be Developed"!]
[Identity: New employee.]
[Mission: Assist Flower Company in finishing game development (in the physical sense).]
[Transfer countdown: 3... 2... 1...]
"Wait! What do you mean in the physical sen—"
Before Tanaka could finish shouting, a blinding white light swallowed his tiny rental room, along with the lecherous yet hysterically ecstatic expression on his face.
The next second, he felt the distinct plush give of an office chair beneath his backside, and at the tip of his nose, a faint mix of fragrances drifted in.
Cool, clean soap. Sweet, sticky fruit perfume. And the fresh scent of hair that had just been washed and dried.
He slowly opened his eyes and found himself seated in an office chair.
Around him was a slightly messy, but deeply anime-themed office. The walls were plastered with game posters, and the desks were cluttered with concept art and setting documents.
Standing in front of him were four girls, each with a completely different style, yet every single one of them was a CG-level beauty who could be slapped straight onto a game cover as the main heroine.
One of them had hair as smooth and dark as silk, long and straight all the way down her back. Her skin was paler than snow, her features startlingly delicate and beautiful.
She wore a simple white shirt and a dark blue pleated skirt. Ordinary clothes, yet on her they exuded an aura of a distant, untouchable ice queen.
Right now, her lovely phoenix eyes had narrowed into a dangerous arc. With the kind of disgusted gaze one might reserve for trash on the side of the road, she swept her eyes over Tanaka from head to toe.
That icy stare alone seemed to make the room's temperature drop a few degrees.
Then her rosy lips parted, and what came out was even colder than her gaze.
"President, where did you dig up this piece of dead weight? Our company hasn't gone bankrupt yet. You can't just pick up any random garbage off the street and bring it in here."
Tanaka: "..."
He stared dumbly down at his own cheap T-shirt and jeans, then looked up again at the breathtakingly pretty tsundere face in front of him.
He understood.
His dream had actually freaking come true.
And this opening line, this textbook hierarchy of scorn, was so perfectly faithful to the script it almost hurt. Way too stimulating!
Inside, Tanaka was practically dancing with joy, but on the surface he remained stiff and dazed, flawlessly playing the role of a rookie employee scared half to death.
He knew exactly who he was facing now. This was Flower Company's ace illustrator, Kurosawa Rinko, a woman with top-tier art skills and an equally top-tier terrible temper.
The one she had just called "President" was a young girl.
She had her hair in cute twin tails, wore a fluffy little dress, and her petite frame was hugging a bunny plushie. She looked more like an elementary schooler on a company tour than the big boss.
This president, Hanazono Yua, was momentarily choked by Rinko's words. Her small face flushed bright red, and her arms tightened around the stuffed rabbit.
"U-um... Rinko-chan, you can't say it like that..." Yua's voice was soft and milky, tinged with a timid quiver. "Tanaka-kun... he showed incomparable passion for our game at the adult expo! I thought that someone who loves our work that much would definitely bring new energy to the company!"
That defense was so weak and flimsy that even Tanaka felt secondhand embarrassment.
Sure enough, the other beauty standing beside Rinko could not help but laugh.
She had a head of dazzling blond hair, permed into fashionable large curls, and a sizzling figure, every curve in all the right places. Her tight knit top traced the outline of her body to a sinful degree.
Leaning back against her chair, arms crossed under her chest, she watched the scene with amused eyes. This was the company's scenario writer, Ayase Miki, a woman who claimed "I hate men the most," yet whose body language told a very different story.
"Passion?" Miki's tone dripped with sarcasm. "President, what we're short on right now is money and people who can actually work, not crazed fanboys from a meet-and-greet."
She gave Tanaka a sidelong glance, a look that clearly said:
'Great, another virgin whose brain has been completely fried by two-dimensional girls.'
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T/N:
An eroge is a Japanese portmanteau of "erotic game"