A Tutorial Far Too Late

"Hm?"

One day, a Status Window appeared before my eyes, and with it the news that I had been possessed into a game.

Except.

"…I'm about to see the ending, though?"

Not the first day of the possession. A day a little while—no, a long while—after that. On the very road where I was closing in to take the final boss by the throat.

Belac City.

Behold.

Behold this exquisite fusion of fantasy and the modern age. Behold those who pray to the gods. Behold those who swing swords and staves. And laid over all of it, the fruits of modern civilization as well.

Diligent mages gave themselves to inquiry.

"Work this ore just right, and I bet I could build one hell of a golem…!"

"Projectile-trajectory equations are an essential component of high-angle Fireball shots."

"Crossbreed a horse with some horned animal, and wouldn't you get a unicorn…?"

…so they said, and in their own way they discovered science. Knowledge gathered out of trifles, and gathered again, sorting itself into chemistry, physics, and the life sciences. More time passed, and the union of magic and science gave birth to Magic Engineering.

So look once more. Behold this radiant Belac City.

Buildings stood high. Roads lay neatly paved. Streetlights waited to brighten the night. Lush forest wrapped the city round, and creatures of every mystery, and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ruins, remained preserved where no human hand had reached.

It was, unmistakably, fantasy and modernity locking together. No dissonance. Each making a synergy of the other as the whole turned.

…However. If one were to say there was a single point worth stopping on.

"Synergy only requires that the combined result be larger than the plain sum. In the end, what matters is the output."

What did that mean? Where was the problem?

Direction.

Everything up to now had only been talk of absolute values.

"Amplifying a negative result is still synergy. So—is it a small seed that will grow a great forest…"

Or the flap of a butterfly's wing that stirs up a typhoon?

They don't treat that as important. It was amplification without dissonance, and therefore it was synergy. And in this world's case, it came closer to the butterfly's wing.

Ah… yes.

Belac City. O, Belac City.

Fair to an obscene, goddamn degree. Belac City, which had gone and imported even the shortcomings of the modern world and of fantasy alike. From fantasy it brought the contest of raw force, the need to survive by sword and magic, and dangerous monsters that tear people apart.

I had thought that if the world advanced, problems like these would be solved. They were not. They got worse. The modern age's own society of runaway competition—people began to thrash all the harder, desperate not to fall behind. And the monsters, had they picked something strange up off the ground and eaten it? Day by day, the things one had to face were growing nastier to deal with.

A dystopia, in a word. A place that looked a long way from any utopia. As if the uneasy predictions scholars make about the future had come true, and the society that resulted happened to look like this.

"…Still. Even a mouse hole gets its ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠day of sun. The day this cycle of evil breaks is bound to come."

So don't worry. A savior will come. All of this is nothing but a stage set for the protagonist's exploits.

A chosen girl will come.

Players will come, wearing the shape of a girl—players who like brutal difficulty to a suspicious degree, who keep pouring in hours and hitting retry. Players will come who, even after clearing, still cling to it and run it over and over; who curse it for a dead game with no content and keep playing anyway. And at the last, players will come who stuff the whole run full of bizarre self-imposed concepts. Utter perverts.

No. Certified perverts, plain and simple, will come.

The bastards who set out to speedrun without a single piece of armor on, and lab a tactic for killing bosses off the invincibility frames you get when you're hit—those are perverts, aren't they?

"I was one of them, sure…. Even so, possession out of absolutely nowhere is a bit much…."

Anyway. Here, this would be the character players possessed in the game. And so now—now that possession had made it real—that ordinary girl, the protagonist, would be the one to save this world.

…So. In that sense.

"Protagonist, where are you. I miss you."

Dodging a gender-swap possession was all well and good, but I can't find you. I wanted to clear this quietly, just playing support at your side. Where are you, seriously.

One day, an offer came from the game company: beta tester for "new content." I accepted it without a second thought…. And of course I was possessed. Looking back now, it was the very bible of possession stories.

But the situation had already happened, and I couldn't just sit still. First, get a read on things, and fast. Then the plan I threw together from the simple fact that I was a male character, not the girl.

One: find the protagonist.

Two: once you find her, don't grandstand at her side. Get carried.

Three: obey the rules above, no exceptions.

…And last, four. If this fell apart, what then.

"What do I actually do."

I'd searched every place there was to search. Why wasn't she there? Was it not time yet? I hadn't wanted to burden her, so I'd put in some effort of my own. Whenever I had the leeway, I went and took the bosses down alone. Would she acknowledge the work? And yet—how long she hadn't come. How much time had passed. Before I knew it, I'd handled most of them by myself, and only the final boss was left. This was insane.

"…."

Too late…. The time to find the protagonist had already gone by…. Which meant I was the one who had to do it, didn't it.

So in the end I simply decided to give up. This world had no protagonist. That was the conclusion I came to.

Thinking back, there had been plenty of differences from the game. NPCs who ought to have been there were gone, and the look of the city had changed. I'd assumed that was the new content. Or else I'd told myself it was a beta, rushed out the door, so of course there was some jank, and I'd let it go. But I never thought they would leave the protagonist out entirely…. I really didn't.

Nothing to be done. Too much time had already passed. Resigned, I was on the move to tie off the last knot—

"…? The hell is this tactless bastard."

That was when the Status Window barged in.

"…Status Window."

What met my eyes, once I'd called it out, was a blue window of a thoroughly alien sort. Was this truly something one could call a Status Window? Had a procurement scandal gutted the budget?

"At least write a name in there…."

Siegfried. That was all. It wasn't difficult. A name, a level… some passable excuse for stats. Show even that, and it might have felt like a status window. Was this really what you shoved in the face of someone trying to see the ending?

"…Hoo. Fine. All right."

Even so, I settled. There wasn't much written, but what was there was fairly interesting. A black square. A white square. And an ellipsis set down after each.

…Was this censorship? Surely they didn't actually mean to say squares. No—they were hiding something. That felt right.

"But I've come this far, and there's still information worth hiding?"

What could possibly stay unrevealed right up to the ending? The guess that surfaced was a hidden element of some kind. A minor extra, fine to do or leave undone. Surely it wasn't a required condition for the true ending. No way. It couldn't be. I was in the middle of what amounted to a one-credit hardcore run, and in the middle of that I was supposed to fulfill the true-ending conditions on my own?

"After showing me the Status Window this ridiculously late? That's no different from telling me to eat shit."

I decided to rule it out entirely, for the sake of my sanity.

That wasn't the only thing to look at. There was the ellipsis tacked on behind. Was this… a kind of comment? A comment on my current state? If there was nothing but an ellipsis, without a single letter, could I take that to mean there was nothing wrong with me?

"But something about it nags at me… what's the period doing there?"

It wasn't a great difference. Only a single dot, clearly. But even a difference that small changes the nuance. How to put it—joined with the colon in front, it felt as though someone's words had been brought in….

Just as I was thinking so.

…Huh?

Something was happening.

The Status Window was unmistakably changing. The upper line was as it had been, but the lower one—perhaps because of what I'd just been saying—looked, to my eyes, as if something were being sent in.

…Waste. Disposal Site. Hah.

Was I meant to call this an unfortunate coincidence?

"Or should I call it intentional…."

What had appeared on the Status Window was the name of a place. Precisely the place I was already traveling toward, in order to strike down the final boss. Were they… guiding me? For no good reason, a chill seemed to crawl up my back.

"So… a result did come of it. There was a reason the Status Window appeared."

I forced the uneasy feeling off. Nothing to flinch at. I was strong enough. More importantly, now was the time to decide what I had to do. As of just now, two things were certain.

One: that was not a comment on my status. There was no such state as Waste Disposal Site. It was closer to the hypothesis I'd set up myself—that these were someone's words.

"…As for who's doing the talking."

I'd have to confirm it. And so, straight to two. I absolutely had to go to the Waste Disposal Site.

"I'll return the key."

"Ah, you're heading out, sir? It's quite early—won't you at least have breakfast before you go…?"

"I'm afraid I have urgent business."

I waved the innkeeper off in refusal and stepped out of the inn where I'd been staying until a moment ago. The door creaked—then a dull thud.

"Ah, my apologies."

"…."

A small incident, on the way out the door. I'd collided with someone wrapped in a robe from head to foot. Small-built; I hadn't seen them. They'd only just caught the corner of my vision, so that was certainly one of the reasons. But the truth of it was something else.

…Not even the sound of breathing, at this range. Not the sort of person who belongs here.

Someone who knew how to erase their presence. Someone who was clearly hiding their strength.

….

Well, so what. They had a story, no doubt. Not my concern. I had things to do. They said nothing in particular, only nodded as if it were fine, and so I took my steps onward as I was—out toward the city's farthest edge, toward the Waste Disposal Site. Toward the place where all of this would be brought to an end.

The Middle District of Belac City. True to its place, it was where ordinary people lived—earning a modest living, busy in a modest way. The district where more of the city lived than anywhere else. There was an inn there, and the inn had an innkeeper.

Befitting the trade, he had watched a great many people come and go, and watch people long enough and you gain a fair eye for them. Take, for instance, the gray-haired guest who had just left this inn.

Absurdly strong!

A monocle, and clothes that looked rather expensive. The first impression, if anything, sat closer to a scholar…. But he had seen that guest over and over, and so he could tell. Not weak. Absolutely not. A peculiar atmosphere made the man difficult to speak to, so stolen glances were as far as it went. Still, that alone had been enough.

It was a shame they'd never really had the chance to talk. Today, too, he only watched the guest check out, the same as any other day.

And yet….

What day is it today…?

A curious guest left, and a curious guest arrived at once.

"One room. I'll stay the night."

"Of course. Here…."

Bundled tight in a robe as if to hide the body, but he could tell. From the hand and arm extended to pay and take the key, the fine cloth inside the robe revealed itself of its own accord—and so did a white hand far too fair for anyone living in a place like this.

Well, now….

And last, the sex he was only now realizing. Not his. Hers. That, and a voice of considerable beauty.

A young lady!

Without question, a young lady!

Not some ordinary person of the Middle District—a noble young lady who lives in the central district!

The hand offering the key trembled, just slightly. He couldn't have said what it was, exactly. Only that a precious guest, the sort a man might or might not see once in his life, had come here. Keeping his decorum and attending her with the utmost care was simply what one did.

"Er… what brings you to a place like this…?"

"?"

And yet—damn it all! Of all moments for his nosiness to flare!

The innkeeper liked talking to his guests every bit as much as he liked observing them. He'd asked for no good reason.

They wouldn't walk out offended, would they? He wasn't about to catch a slap, was he?

"Haha…! A needless question, I—"

"…A strong person."

"…?!"

He had been scrambling to take it back when, unexpectedly, an answer came.

"I came looking for a strong person."

"Ah. Aha…."

Right. Of course.

With that answer, it was certain. The young lady was noble, and she was a young lady who liked a fight. Absolutely not the sort it would do to talk to at length. So—from here on, at least….

"…Mm, the guest who just left seemed quite stron—"

"?"

"Ahaha! It's nothing! Nothing at all!"

Ah.

This damned meddling streak.