It's Just a Game
"So boring."
"Young Master? Is my skill perhaps lacking...?"
"That's not it, so don't worry."
I waved off the old butler's polite inquiry and moved a piece across the board. With that, my turn was over—it was his turn next—but the game had already been decided. Every one of my pieces had the old man's king surrounded.
"...I surrender, Young Master. As expected of the family's finest player."
"Finest player, my foot."
At the old butler's declaration of surrender, I scowled and began clearing the pieces away. How many times had we repeated this ritual? Dozens of times in a single day, probably.
Nearly twenty years had passed since I was struck by a speeding car one ordinary day and reincarnated into a medieval other world where magic lived and breathed. I'd been born into a respectable noble house and wanted for nothing, and yet I was full of complaints.
"Shall we play another round?"
"...Let's stop here. You don't have to humor me anymore, old man."
"Humor you? Young Master, if it amuses you, I would play as long as you wish."
That's just it—I'm not amused.
I could accept having no talent for the sword or for magic. I was so hopelessly devoid of it that even the Imperial Academy had shut its doors to me, but I figured it was fine. What I hadn't counted on was just how crushingly boring the position of third son turned out to be.
Unlike my eldest and second-eldest brothers, I had no say in the family's affairs, and with no talent, I couldn't even attend the Academy. So I simply lived like a playboy, burning through the family's money day after empty day. In my old world, this would have been the wealthy idle life of my dreams—but even a dream like that wears thin, and years of it had ground time itself to a halt.
Then, amid the tedium, I discovered this chess-like board game.
"I'm sick of this one too."
Cheess may be a masterpiece, but play nothing else for weeks on end and anyone would get sick of it. At first I'd thrown myself into the game and even won several tournaments. For a while, I wondered if this might actually be my calling. But once the fun—the single most important thing—drained away, no amount of championships could stir my motivation. For a man who used to haunt board game cafés back home, devouring every game on the shelf, nothing here ever quite satisfied.
"Are there no other games?"
"Other... games? You mean to say games exist besides this one?"
"...Never mind."
And really, in this blasted world, the only board game worth the name was this chess knockoff. There were other amusements—circuses, magic shows, duels—but in the end, only a true board game could fill the hole inside me.
At this point, why not just make one myself?
It had been an idle thought, but the time to actually act on it seemed to have arrived. The chess clone had dulled the boredom for a while, but now I wanted to enjoy a proper variety of board games.
"Old man, I have a favor to ask."
"No."
"...I haven't even said what it is yet."
"Do you intend to create another dice game and turn the knights into gambling addicts, like last time? Absolutely not. The Lord of the house gave explicit instructions on the matter."
"...Ugh."
Wasn't that the fault of the knights who started wagering money on Yacht, a game I made for casual fun? Board games are innocent, I say. And even if I wanted to dip into my own prize money, the old man would refuse outright. The position of third son seemed enviable enough on the surface, but at moments like this it was a real burden—no actual authority in the family at all.
...Wait. Hold on a second.
Then I just needed to make a board game with little potential for gambling, like... well, not like Yacht. But what would even work? You can't just snap your fingers and produce a board game! The board, the cards, the tokens, the artwork—these things demand a surprising amount of professional craftsmanship. That was exactly why I'd made Yacht, needing nothing but five dice—and then the dice themselves got banned.
So: easy to make, fun to play, and no dice required.
...One comes to mind.
"Old man."
"No."
"It's nothing like that, so relax. You know the bell they use in the kitchen?"
"The... bell, you say?"
"Yeah. Not one you shake—one you press down with your hand. Could you fetch me one?"
"Hmm. Very well. Sally? Bring one of the things the Young Master described."
"Yes, yes!"
Sally, the maid who had been standing rigidly at attention beside the door, hurried out of the room. Before she returned, there was something I needed to prepare.
"Let's see... this much paper should do. Old man? Cut these into even sizes for me."
"...If this is card gambling, I must refuse."
"I told you, it's not! Just cut them. If something seems off, you can take them away after."
"...Very well."
Vmm.
Ordinarily I'd have needed scissors for this, but I had the old man instead. A retired knight still trained in aura, he drew a faint thread of aura to his fingertips and drew it across the paper.
Shff.
Ahh, it cuts like a dream. Now that's what I call human scissors. Half-doubtful, the old man still sliced the sheets cleanly into crisp rectangles—proper card shapes. And then it was my turn to draw on them.
"Shapes... are they?"
"Yeah. They're what I'm most comfortable with."
Back home, I'd have drawn fruit—bananas, strawberries, kiwis—but no such fruit existed in this world. Coloring them on top of that would be far too much work, so the shapes had to be distinguishable without any color at all. Hence: circles, stars, diamonds, and the like. Harder to tell apart than the original, sure, but it would do.
I gave each card a different number of shapes. Five circles, two stars, one pentagon, and so on—fifty-six cards in all. I'd just finished sketching the last of them when Sally returned, bell in hand, right on cue.
"Y-Young Master! Here is the bell you asked for!"
"Thanks. Oh, Sally? Could you put a hardening spell on these cards?"
"Ye—yes!? H-how strong would you like it...?"
"Don't make them rigid—just firm enough that they can bend a little."
"Yes, sir!"
With the help of Sally—apprentice or not, still a proper mage—the paper stiffened up until it felt just like real cards. And with that... done.
Sloppy as all get-out, but a board game nonetheless.
"Is that all there is to it? It's certainly nothing like last time."
"Mm, right?"
"A game made by your own hand, Young Master. What did you name it?"
Back home it would have been Halli Galli. But the fruit had become shapes, so the name had to change too. After all, "Halli Galli" had never meant anything to begin with—just something chosen for sounding cheerful.
Eh, let's keep it simple.
"Let's call it Kylegalli."
"Kyle... galli, you say? The 'Kyle' I understand, but what does 'galli' mean?"
"Just assume I stuck it on for fun. Anyway—want to play a round?"
"Mm. How is it played?"
"Easy. We split the deck by dealing face-down, then each of us plays cards one at a time into a pile in front of us, shapes face-up. The moment exactly five of the same shape are showing on the table, you slap the bell. Whoever rings it fastest takes all the cards on the table, and whoever collects the whole deck wins."
"Quite simple, indeed."
And that simplicity was precisely what made it a worldwide bestseller back home. All you needed were cards and a bell, and the rules were far simpler than just about any game out there. Plenty of people had struggled with Yacht's rules back in the day; by comparison, this was heaven.
Relieved, apparently, that this wasn't a gambling game after all, the old man began shuffling. I looked away from him and beckoned to Sally, who was watching me with wide, curious eyes.
"Sally, you play too. Sit down."
"M-me? You mean m-me!? N-no, no! Someone like me, playing with the Young Master...!!"
"You really need to work on your self-esteem. You're a mage, aren't you—even if just an apprentice? Far more useful than someone like me."
"Young Master...!"
"I'm joking, joking. Come on, play with us. It's more fun with three than with two."
A nerve-wracking one-on-one duel has its charms, but with more players you get all the scheming and mind games on top.
In the end, a mere maid like Sally couldn't refuse an invitation from a noble such as myself, so she swallowed her sobs and took her seat.
...Wait, why is she sniffling? Now I just look like a genuine scumbag.
"Ahem... anyway, you heard the rules, right? Shall we begin?"
"I have finished shuffling the cards. Shall I deal them out evenly?"
"Please. Ah—we're three, so two cards will be left over. Just set those aside."
"Understood."
The old man swiftly dealt out the shuffled deck, Sally had dried her tears by now, and it was time to begin.
A new board game... a new board game...!
I'd played it countless times back home, but this was its first time in this world, and I couldn't help feeling giddy about it. If only this would show the old man and Sally the charm of board games too.
"I'll start, then."
"Yes, sir."
"Y-yes!"
Slap. Slap. Slap.
We laid down shape cards one by one, and the turns flew by. Whether it was the old man or Sally—still hiccupping from her sniffles moments ago—both of them seemed deeply focused the instant the game began.
For quite a while, no five-of-a-kind showed itself. We kept stacking our cards, and then—
DING!!
"Ohh, Young Master. Remarkably quick."
"I didn't even see it...!"
"The designer has to be able to play, you know."
The instant the fifth star hit the table, I slapped the bell and swept the pile clean. My apologies to the old man and Sally, but I'd been one of the strongest players in my old world's board game circles. Granted, that might have been a touch unfair against two novices who hadn't even fully grasped the rules yet.
Well, we'll be playing nothing but this for a while anyway, so what does it matter?
Even if I'd wanted to make games in earnest, Father would never approve, and this little pastime was all I could manage. So then—just how much would Halli Galli... no, Kylegalli, cure my boredom?
Once more, I flipped a card.
DING!
"As expected of the Young Master."
"So, so amazing...!"
"Oh, come on."
DING!
"Haha, your reflexes are quite sharp indeed. This old body can hardly keep up."
"A-amazing as always, Young Master...!!"
"You two could stand to try harder yourselves."
DING!
".........You are truly skilled."
"Uh......... y-yeah."
"How about a little more effort from you two?"
DING!
"............."
".........."
"...Old man? Sally?"
"Young Master, please turn your card."
"Uh, sure........."
CLANG──!!
"...Old man?"
"Goodness, it seems my hand slipped and I used aura. The bell is shattered, so I suppose this round counts as a draw."
"No—how does that even happen!?"
"D-don't worry, Young Master! We have more bells—I'll go get one!"
"Thanks, Sally. Honestly, old man—aren't you getting a little too invested? This is just a game."
"A knight's body, even in old age. I merely failed to moderate my strength this once."
"Do it one more time and I'm putting your hand out of commission too."
"Young Master! I'm back!"
"Good, shall we pick up where we left off?"
"............."
DING!
"Hm......... huh? Huh?"
"...Sally. Don't tell me you used magic."
"W-well, I, I had no choice! If I want to win cards against you and the Head Butler, th-this is the only way........."
"That's illusion magic, isn't it? Isn't using it to shuffle card pictures a waste of talent?"
"Hehe........."
"Anyway, that's cheating, so hand over about half your cards."
"Y-Young Master!"
"If you're going to cheat, at least don't get caught. You were way too blatant about it."
"............."
"Sally?"
"If I don't get caught........."
"...Sally?"
DING!
"Heh heh, I was the faster one this time, Sally."
"Th-the Head Butler is quite composed, isn't he... I do have rather more cards, though."
"............."
...How on earth did it come to this?
I was clearly in the lead early on, so at what point did I get knocked out of the running? When the old man started using aura in earnest? Or when Sally began casting her "unnoticeable" magic?
DING! DING! DING!
"Hahahaha, you think paltry magic can trouble me? So weak I can't even be bothered to notice it."
"Hehe...... w-well, the Head Butler just slaps the bell with raw aura, so of course you wouldn't sense it... right?"
"Heh heh heh."
"Hehehe."
With the sole incompetent—me—eliminated, the old man and Sally were now playing Kylegalli with aura and magic thrown about as openly as they pleased. Aura-reinforced hands flipped cards and slapped the bell in the same motion, while subtle, seeping magic confused the pictures and muddled the bell's location.
And I, watching the whole spectacle unfold, made a decision.
I'm... going to have to add new rules.
For the sake of surviving between those two superhumans and actually enjoying a board game.
If things went on like this, I wouldn't get to have any fun at all.........