Episode 5. We Are Protagonists (2)
“Mister, but……”
“But?”
“What am I gonna end up doing if I stick with you?”
Claire was starting to lighten up a bit, and now she was spouting her usual nonsense again.
Aiden was a mercenary. One of those guys you called when a job was too dangerous to call it a simple errand, something you couldn't handle alone, and no one else would touch. But this wasn't a question born of genuine ignorance.
“Didn't you experience it firsthand a few days ago?”
“That's part of it… but that was annoying, sure, but not that hard. And it's not like you'd be doing stuff like that every time.”
“Usually, it's much simpler. That's how it is.”
“Exactly. That 'simple' stuff. Like, a giant cockroach the size of a seven-year-old kid crawling around the village, and they want you to kill it until it stops showing up.”
A giant cockroach roaming the village? That didn't sound simple at all.
“Oh, bad metaphor? Anyway, you get the vibe I'm going for.”
It wasn't wrong. If that happened in reality, you'd probably want to burn the whole village down to solve it, but "simple" meant something you could grasp at a glance.
“But I'm not great at physical stuff, so if you drag me into something too tough, I won't be any help.”
“Your trouble with long walks is just from lack of exercise.”
“Don't bring that up! I just mean don't drag me to dangerous places!”
“So what exactly are you thinking of this time?”
“Well, I heard this story when I was little……”
Every now and then, Claire would pull out some weird tale she'd supposedly read in a book. There were always mistakes in them, and he'd have to correct her ridiculous misunderstandings every time.
“Like, some massive monster that's so tough even a sword won't pierce it……”
Looks like he'd have to do it again today.
Scenario Denial: 7%
Recommendation: Continue the story.
Player: 5%
Realization: 2%
An unwelcome guest had reappeared in Aiden's dream. For the past few days, while traveling back to the city with Claire, things had been quiet enough that he'd dared hope these dreams might never return.
But today, that hope shattered completely.
'The Player value has increased.'
The first time the voice had given him numbers, the Player stat had been the only one unchanged. The initial recommendation had been to "talk to a Player," so he'd assumed it wouldn't budge until he did.
Maybe one of the people he talked to today was a Player.
“That woman, right? She's the Player.”
His conversations yesterday had been limited. No need to overthink it. The most suspicious one was obvious.
But there was no reply today either. Not confirming anyone else meant he could just draw his own conclusion.
SANDBOX
Your world becomes freer and simpler.
All laws may seem realistic at first glance but are implemented in highly contrived and convenient ways.
This genre can overlap with others.
Looking back at childhood as an adult, it seems incredibly free.
Everyone had those days in a small but free sandbox world, doing whatever they wanted without complex responsibilities.
There's no law saying you can't return to that time.
Establishment complete.
[Final characteristic establishment begins.]
Aiden now knew what that meant. The strange abilities the voice's owner shoved at him, hoping he'd become a "Player." He didn't know their future impact, but he couldn't resist receiving them.
So he nodded, letting it do as it pleased, and the familiar, unsettling voice resumed.
It was verbose and incomprehensible. The recent Fast Travel had been straightforward enough to grasp immediately. This felt just like the early days when he couldn't make sense of anything.
Then, a phrase he'd overheard in his mind resurfaced.
“That help thing you mentioned before—does that mean you'll answer questions?”
Help menu activated.
Couldn't it just say yes? Aiden tried anyway.
“Is there… any way to avoid your influence? Like returning all this.”
Impossible.
“I never wanted any of this.”
No answer this time. Maybe it only responded to proper questions. He rephrased, but still nothing. Was it refusing, or satisfied? At least it wasn't leaving his head anytime soon.
“Then at least make me understand what these 'characteristic establishments' are before you shove them at me.”
“……”
“Fine. Question: What do RPG and SANDBOX mean from what I've heard so far?”
A reaction stirred in his mind moments later.
SANDBOX
RPG
STEALTH
ROGUELIKE
[……]
Was it mocking him? He'd asked about two specifically, but it was listing the entire compendium for anything with those words.
“Fine, explain them one by one.”
Aiden decided to play along. You couldn't debate a puppet made to give set responses; if conversation stalled, stick to what worked.
“Plenty of time here anyway.”
It was a dream, after all.
Sephirah, having chatted with Aiden, followed her whims to the back alley. Reforming villains was more fun than aiding the virtuous anyway. Aiden himself had said so.
“Hi.”
Back alleys were always stereotypical. Even at high noon, they looked dim, with rats scurrying and drunks passed out. The vibe varied by game's era, but it was identical across titles.
“You think so too, right?”
“Who the hell are you? Who sent you?!”
“Oops, no name above your head. Extra, huh?”
It might look like conversation, but Sephirah's words didn't transmit. Like mumbling at a monitor without a mic—no one hears.
Players conversed only via "talk" and "choices," so she couldn't convey complex ideas.
[7/30]
Thanks to "talk," the mystery counter rose, but with a nameless extra, no further choices appeared.
“Cheeky bastard. Think you can mess with anyone in a dump like this?”
“No, I know that's wrong. But for early-game enemies here, there aren't any strong ones, right?”
“Come at me, punk!”
“I said I know it's not.”
Truth was, Player Sephirah rarely visited. No quests led here, no useful loot, no quest-giving NPCs—barely existent.
But it had a hidden NPC.
“Aaaagh!!”
Raising her wand for a direct smack, the man screamed, fell, then stood.
“Get up. Can't have you die by accident if I can't see your HP.”
“Eek, ouch!”
Wands weren't for hitting—HP drain was minimal. But wasting MP on magic for this? Quests were scarce enough for gold.
“Hmm, about 80% now? Perfect. Easter egg condition.”
“Urk……”
Sephirah had never lingered here before. She'd ignored the story.
Hidden elements—Easter eggs—intrigued her, but only useful ones. That was her player style.
“Spit it out. Had to check the wiki 'cause I forgot.”
“Just kill me. Why are you doing this?!”
“Wiki told me to.”
Go to back alley, find tall eyepatch guy, attack, reduce HP to 80% and hold for 1 minute. Then meet unwelcome friends.
Guide said so—how to defy it?
“F-Fine, I get it. What do you want? Did you have to do it this way?!”
“No other method worked.”
“…Follow me. I'll show you what you want.”
“Thanks~”
Again, Player-NPC talk didn't connect.
Clack. Clack.
Sephirah followed silently to a basement. Unopenable without event for non-players—game's contrived level design.
But NPC leading Player? Unlocked with key effortlessly.
“Played this game so much, never thought to come here……”
A fresh sense of sentiment. This was original content, not new. Ignored back then, now exploring years later.
Should've savored it in peak gaming days.
“Here. Our god resides.”
Eyepatch man guided to corner room, politely pointing with palm.
Inside: Shapes of this world's creators. Easier: Developers' life-size standees.
“Our god? These losers.”
Embarrassing to make NPCs call devs gods? Team photo showed bright smiles, no shame—except one unknown face.
Place name: Omake Room. Special spot for devs and NPCs that shouldn't appear.
“Lemme see……”
Sephirah ignored dev standees. Unused weapons? Meh.
But basement held more: Unused NPCs, weapons, story docs—gathered harmlessly.
She sought one talkable NPC: Villain-to-be, story-wise. Boy now, not standout yet—but terrifyingly strong potential.
Did current game freedom allow reform? What story then?
Expectant, she greeted warmly.
“Hi?”
“……?”
“Wanna follow without questions from now on? Unless you wanna die.”
[9/30]
Now, what next?
