Selected as the Incarnation

"Arts and Culture Preservation Program… What the hell is this?"

I muttered without thinking at the status window floating in midair.

I accepted it quickly.

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Incarnation, Constellations. Both words were all too familiar to me, having lived in the 21st century.

Constellations—transcendent beings from myths and legends.

And the Incarnation, the one who receives their support.

Details might vary by story, but the framework was roughly the same.

"Uh, h-hello?"

The moment that thought crossed my mind, I cautiously greeted the air.

Constellations were beings perched in impossibly high places.

For all I knew, one wrong move if they got annoyed could make my head explode.

A message soon appeared in the air.

At the same time, a zap of information transmitted straight into my head.

"Muses… goddesses of the arts…?"

Muses, or Musiae. The nine goddesses of the arts from Greek mythology.

Born to the Titan of memory Mnemosyne and Zeus.

I wasn't sure about their standing in myths, but they were fairly well-known deities in modern times…

What the hell are they doing here?

I could roughly guess the reason.

They mentioned something about arts preservation earlier, right?

This world did have the concept of art, even if it seemed nonexistent.

But it was a relic of the past, long gone.

With advanced technology spreading scientism everywhere, anything like rest or arts was deemed inefficient. It led to a full-on cultural purge, like the Red Army's campaigns on some continent from my past life.

Even if it's not a problem, this feels kinda off.

Remembering how my previous world's continent had wrecked its own culture made me grimace involuntarily.

Anyway, with all the arts and culture wiped out here too, it was plenty frustrating for goddesses overseeing them.

Laurel Art God. She was probably Clio, the muse of history. Her symbol was the laurel wreath.

Whatever.

"…So, what exactly do you want me to do?"

Drawing on my past life's corporate experience, I adopted the most professional posture I could.

One of the Constellations stepped forward right away…

"Um, sorry. I already have a story I want to use."

Unfortunately, I couldn't do that.

I have my own story I want to make.

Logically, for a universally praised story, getting help from an art goddess would be ideal.

But did I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠have to?

Seeing my resolve, a sharp Constellation asked.

"Oh, what I want to make?"

A game I wanted to create.

Sure, a gacha game that prints money like crazy, or an MMORPG that squeezes cash ruthlessly like MapleStory or Nirij would be nice…

"…I was thinking of making a simple indie game."

Suddenly, an indie game from my past life came to mind.

The kind you could buy cheap on Steam and play.

It had gotten decent reviews, I recalled.

Those were good times…

That experience made me decide to become a game developer…

Only for reality to be a dumpster fire.

Anyway, after all that, I wanted to return to my roots, heal my wounded soul a bit.

Fortunately, the Constellations seemed to understand my intent. …Probably because I was the only decent Incarnation candidate in this world.

Otherwise, they'd have gone looking for someone else.

Even if there were others, no big deal. It meant they chose me out of all the candidates in this city.

And even if my guesses were wrong, the important thing was getting another shot at creating something.

"Of course… Oh."

A fact suddenly hit me.

A cold steel world pursuing only societal progress, excluding personal emotions or leisure.

In this icy place, there were no game dev programs like the ones I used.

"…Anyone here know how to use a computer?"

We're screwed.

A cyberpunk world dominated by technology.

Computers naturally existed here too.

They were essential for operating tech and machines, after all.

The problem is those damn computers have specs so trash they might as well be in the abyss.

This world's computers were optimized solely for 'work processing'.

They could sift through trillions of data points across vast internet sites in under a second, but only ran internet and work services—classic office machines.

In other words, no programs for making games, no computers for playing them.

Fucked…

Strictly speaking, such computers did exist.

The issue was where: a pitch-black corner of the web.

The Dark Web. Shadowy sites operating beyond government reach.

Even a government indifferent to worldly affairs flipped out over banned items, slapping on endless regulations.

And non-work computers were one of their top bans.

What is this, some red-scare dictatorship?

Well, national power was on another level, incomparable. But the vibes were similar enough.

No mass starvations like there, but the wealth gap was insane.

…And top or bottom, everyone ate the same slop. These Britain-wannabes.

"How the hell am I gonna handle this…"

I was pondering basic dev tools when—

A message popped up like it was waiting.

"…Huh?"

I looked up involuntarily, and messages poured in.

From the vibe, the Constellations had pooled whatever coins they had.

So, what should I do now?

"Aigoo, thank you so much."

I hopped onto the bed and bowed my head flat.

Constellations or not, basic human decency demanded this much gratitude for gods who'd emptied their pockets to help me.

"So, how do I apply this…"

Flash!

No sooner had I thought it than light burst from the air, beaming toward my work laptop on the desk.

"Whoa…"

My laptop glowed brilliantly.

Another message appeared in the air.

"Helped? You have no idea."

I was stressing over no dev program, and they deliver like this.

Funded by Constellations, it had to be something special, beyond ordinary tools.

Even if not, no worries.

No company issues either—this laptop was mine anyway.

For corporate drones, laptops were more essential than phones.

I'd just tidy up work files and send them later.

"First things first, time to quit."

This rigid ice-cube of a company? I'm out.