Chapter 2

Chapter 2

[Translator – Peptobismol]

Chapter 2: Living in the Game World (2)

This world is based on the ‘cyberpunk game’ that I played.

But if you ask whether this world is a ‘game’, I think the story is a bit different.

Well, for example.

Just looking at the simple street vendors tells you that.

In the game, street vendors are just ordinary objects used to fill the boring streets.

They don’t buy or sell goods or food.

They are just devices to show off the excellent modeling skills of graphic designers.

All they did was decorate food that you couldn’t actually eat.

On the other hand, if the game becomes reality?

As I mentioned earlier, the story changes.

You can buy and eat unidentified street food.

Something that was not known in the game...

A kind of ‘story’ or ‘setting’ emerges.

A street vendor living in Neon City thought his store was too ordinary.

Realizing that he needed something different and innovative from other similar businesses.

His thoughts were short, and his actions were quick.

And an enthusiastic street vendor who applies ‘mood-enhancing drugs’ to food was born.

The street vendor who seemed kind turned out to be a member of a drug cartel.

Of course, it was something I didn’t know at the time.

One day, I noticed while watching the news program of NCB24, the only broadcasting station in Neon City (they won in the corporate war).

For reference, the length of the news is about 5 seconds.

By Neon City’s standards, it could be said to be a very trivial incident.

In the first place, drugs are not illegal in this world.

They are called ordinary ‘mental care drugs’.

The reason the street vendor owner appeared on the news was simply because he used mental care drugs in the city without paying taxes.

Anyway, I watched the news program out of boredom and saw the unexpected mugshot of the old man.

It was both fascinating and chilling.

I almost bought some myself a few times.

But I didn’t eat the cyberpunk street food because it looked sketchy.

Considering the fact that I have a weakness for drugs among my many negative traits, it could have been really dangerous.

No one wants to become a drug addict against their will.

But a drug addict mage?

With talent on top of that?

...That would’ve been a real problem.

Anyway, the conclusion is this.

While this world is very similar to a game.

It’s not a game.

Of course, that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s all bad.

There were good points too.

I could consider the fact that I’m using an ‘old-fashioned mechanical monitor’ as one of the good points.

[RabbitArcher (Archer): Excuse me.]

[ImARealWizard (Warrior): ?]

“What kind of lunatic is this?”

I was hunting here first.

What nonsense.

What is it? Showing off?

That’s right.

Although I fell into this ‘crazy cyberpunk world’ for just one reason, the fact that I’m still here means I haven’t given up yet.

Game.

The world I was originally from...

There were many fun games in my past life, but comparing them to the ‘cyberpunk game’ that was created on the back of mass media filled with capitalism and sexualism, it felt a bit lacking.

In a way, it was natural.

There was a fundamental difference between games played with just a monitor and keyboard, and games played with virtual reality or augmented reality.

In the latter case.

Anyone could easily and conveniently enjoy it using the ‘neural computer chip’ that almost everyone had, even the homeless people in the back alleys of the neighborhood.

Victory or defeat became even more clear.

Moreover, there were no malicious systems like ‘Game Rankings’ in this world.

There were no censorship regulations based on age restrictions for violence or explicit content.

It was really a crazy world.

Of course, in Neon City, there was nothing funnier than being questioned about one’s age.

My neighbor Bill was the prime example, who lives in the same building as me.

Bill was 95-years-old this year, but he had replaced almost all of his entire body with BioWare implants and changed his appearance to that of a 10-year-old.

So he should at least dress and act appropriately.

I still vividly remember the time I got scolded for speaking informally to him when we first met.

Until I checked his corporate ID (issued by major corporations, making it less likely to be forged than a city ID), I didn’t believe him either.

I got scolded twice as much after confirming.

It’s scary. Cyberpunk...

Honestly, even now, I think this person was a bit extreme.

Anyway, it was natural for an intellectual living in a world where the game industry has greatly developed to have games as a hobby.

Correspondingly, most of the games I played were virtual reality games.

This was both natural and satisfying.

Just like how you sometimes crave instant noodles even when you’re eating a delicious steak.

As you live, you inevitably feel the desire to fill something that’s 2% lacking.

Yeah.

It’s like sometimes you get the urge to eat mint chocolate chip or pineapple pizza, you know?

It felt like just a few days had passed.

But already a week?

It was simply astonishing.

“I wonder if I got hacked without knowing it?”

[That cannot be. I condemn the thought.]

“Of course, it was just a joke.”

I stretched.

Regardless of day or night, if I felt sleepy, I slept, and if I woke up, I played games.

And I lost my sense of time.

Well, I had an excuse for that too.

My character’s traits, such as ‘sloppiness,’ ‘fragility,’ and ‘fatigue,’ were full of negative aspects related to stamina.

In short, I frequently slept and slept for a long time.

It was no wonder that I lost track of time.

The dark circles under my eyes were also due to this reason.

Fortunately, I managed to maintain the semblance of a person by exercising regularly (even though I went and then didn’t go last year) and undergoing minimal implant surgery.

But anyway...

Come to think of it, it felt a bit unsatisfying to end it like this.

“I still feel like I haven’t relieved enough stress. Should I try just one more month?”

[I deny.]

I shook my head.

“But ‘Eve’...”

[Why is that?]

“The doctor told me to do what I want. Did you take the NCMLE (Neon City Medical License Exam)? I only trust what professionals’ say.”

[Ugh, this guy...]

“?”

[I advise you to turn on message notifications and check your message history.]

For a moment, there seemed to be an AI uprising.

But since Eve, the AI, said it like this...

I felt like I should check.

Although I didn’t have anyone who would send any particularly important messages.

My social network wasn’t that wide.

“That’s a lot of messages.”

I turned on the notifications that were turned off and checked the unread messages in order from a week ago.

Strangely enough, there were no spam advertisement messages at all.

Did Eve sort them up on her own?

For now, I just deleted messages that seemed to have no value.

Requests, invitations, whatever.

I ignored them all.

They were messages I could safely ignore.

After deleting unnecessary messages,

I finally saw the messages I needed to pay attention to.

It was a message from an old friend with roughly 10 years of history.

Sender: ‘Neon City, Best Freelancer’

– Hey. Just playing games for a week?

– Stop bullshiting and come out to the pub if you can to see my face.

– And if you’ve read it, at least send a reply.

This was exactly a week ago.

– Read it at least.

– Reply, will you?

This was 6 days ago.

– Did you get shot and carried away? If you did, I’ll apologize. I won’t talk too much.

– Answer the phone at least.

And this was 5 days ago.

– Holy shit.

– I found out. You’re really addicted to games, huh? Are you crazy? And you’re ignoring my messages?

– Check your messages before coming to see me in person.

“Wow. She sent a lot.”

[It could be due to you being out of touch for a week, I presume.]

Eve’s unreasonable talk went in one ear and out the other.

From 4 days ago, messages arrived without fail, more than three times a day.

It’s getting a little scary.

But that didn’t mean I could do anything about the messages I had already ignored.

I decided to take it easy.

I mean... I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?

I tried to rationalize myself and I skimmed through the messages, which were flooding, and passed over them.

Before I knew it, it was the last message.

Looking at the date, it was today.

– It’s been a week since you said it.

– Today, at 19:00.

– Location is the pub, ‘No Answer’.

– If you’re late, I’ll ask for your home address and come find you.

And that time was now.

“...Eve.”

[I respond.]

“I guess I should get ready to go out.”

...It’s finally time to go out.

[Translator – Peptobismol]