Chapter 1
Chapter 1
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: The Thrill Felt During the Game Might Be Electrocution (1)
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He had never known happiness.
At three years old, he lost his father. At six, he lost his mother too and began drifting from relative to relative.
To make matters worse, from age nine, he started in and out of hospitals.
And at fifteen, he became a gaming shut-in.
My little sister was a hermit who devoured every kind of game. Maybe because her frail body kept her from properly attending school, she didn’t have any real friends.
But I never nagged her about it. I was just grateful she had the energy to play games.
She’d suddenly collapse and need to go to the hospital, or lose a ton of weight in a week with constant vomiting. In my eyes, the fact that she was still alive was filial piety enough.
Yeah, filial piety. I raised her like my own daughter. There was a thirteen-year age gap between me at twenty-eight and her. Maybe that’s why—I bought her every game she wanted without discrimination and spoiled her rotten.
One day, I peeked at what game she was playing.
“What game’s so fun that you’re glued to it?”
“An otome game.”
“The protagonist’s name is Otome?”
With hollow eyes, she explained the game to me. You controlled the protagonist to romance every character.
“This one’s the villainess. She tries to sabotage the protagonist and steal all the guys’ love for herself.”
“She’s a nasty one. So you’re fighting her? Did you win?”
The villainess Dalia laughed ohohoho on screen as she shoved the heroine. The men surrounded the heroine, defending her.
My sister stared blankly at the villainess and her enemies, then muttered.
“If I were Dalia, I wouldn’t act like that...”
She clearly wanted to overcome her reality through the game. The protagonists went to school and dated to their heart’s content, while she couldn’t do any of it—how heartbreaking must that be? My chest tightened with emotion. Projecting herself onto a character like that. Swallowing my rising sorrow, I gripped her shoulder.
“What would you do in her place? What do you envy most? Anything I can do for you, just say it...”
“Aren’t they all idiots?”
“...Huh?”
My sister’s response was more pragmatic than I expected.
“Especially Dalia. She bugs me. She’s a duke’s lady, but she doesn’t study, chases after the heroine’s loser crushes, and just throws tantrums.”
“Oh, she does that?”
“If I were Dalia, I’d kill them all and become emperor.”
She pointed at every single character in the game.
“You want to kill them all...?”
“Yeah. Every last one.”
The heroine, the male leads, even the emperor.
“W-Wouldn’t Dalia get lonely if you killed them all?”
“That’s just how it is. Great power demands great sacrifice.”
“Aah...”
“I want a total annihilation ending!”
“Yeah, have fun...”
I thought, puberty’s really hit her hard. Her dream of becoming a princess had somehow twisted into becoming a tyrant. But as long as she was healthy, that was fine.
Not long after that thought, it became her last dream.
I was happy.
Until my one remaining little sister died at twenty-eight.
***
After the funeral, I sat in the spot where she usually played games. Tears I hadn’t shed even at the service streamed down my face. In the dim house, only the game screen glowed pale.
Unfamiliar with games, I mashed buttons randomly, searching for traces of her.
The flashy illustrations shifted moment by moment. Hours passed with my mind blank, focused only on the game. I started recognizing the characters she’d mentioned.
Among them, the one that stood out was the villainess Dalia.
Dalia, whom my sister called an idiot, surprisingly shared many traits with her. Losing her parents young, having an older brother with a big age gap, and being unfortunate.
Dalia’s love interest changed based on player choices. Gifts, ball invitations... She was plenty attractive and proactive.
The problem? She wasn’t the protagonist.
Events always favored the heroine.
[Why! Why won’t you even look at this Dalia!]
“You’re not the protagonist, that’s why...”
I couldn’t help feeling sorry during Dalia’s breakdown scene. Not because her romance failed. My sister was right.
Ah, that’s not how life works!
“She’s got money, her brother’s a duke, there are men in other countries too! Look elsewhere!”
Watching for so long made it frustrating from my side. Like my sister said, wiping out those idiots and making Dalia emperor would feel so much better.
In the end, I watched every ending. The heroine and her love interest’s happy ending. But I wasn’t happy at all.
If anything, it felt more sorrowful.
I replayed from branch points, but the results were similar. The heroine got her happy endings with different guys, while Dalia lost her status as duke’s lady, her love, everything.
“Dalia never got her happy ending, huh.”
Was that all she was allowed?
What if my sister had that money, honor, and status?
What if I were Dalia’s brother, Sierra Gluttony, the duke?
I wouldn’t have let Dalia despair like that. I’d have used my wealth and power to slaughter those fools and crown my smart little sister emperor.
If I were that game’s brother!
[Brother! You won’t abandon me too, will you?]
It was just a character’s line, yet it tore at my heart. In my eyes, that girl wasn’t Dalia. She was my sister, who died without ever blooming like a flower.
“Of course not! Why would I abandon you!”
I shouted, knowing she couldn’t hear. I was still in mourning clothes. Wiping tears with the stiff sleeve stung my eyes.
[Please help me, brother!]
Like apologizing to the sister I couldn’t protect, I nodded frantically. Mashed the buttons.
[Then promise me.]
Huh? Was there this line? I’d replayed this scene so many times, but it felt unfamiliar.
Who cares! It’s probably just a variant!
I nodded and mashed buttons. Dalia’s illustration shifted pose and smiled brightly.
[Thank you, brother. With you helping me become happy, I feel secure.]
Crackle! Noise crept into the screen. A sharp electric jolt ran through the controller.
“Huh? What’s going on? Is it broken?”
I tried to drop the controller, but couldn’t. It stuck to my hand like glue. Electricity surged through my body, my head spun.
[Please take care of me in this life too.]
“Huh...?”
This is dangerous, I thought—then boom! The monitor exploded. The console followed. Sparks and flames played out in slow motion.
It’s my sister’s precious console; gotta put out the fire...
That was my last thought before my consciousness snapped.
***
“Duke Sierra? Duke Sierra! Please wake up.”
An unfamiliar voice urgently roused me. Jolted by shaking, I opened my eyes to an old man I didn’t know trying to wake me.
Where am I? A boxy space with a window, scenery rushing past outside. Like an amusement park or tourist spot. The low houses let the skyline shine clearly.
The weather was overcast.
“This place is...”
“We’ll arrive at the church soon. You must present a dignified appearance, especially now.”
“What are you talking about?”
After speaking, I froze. My voice was unfamiliar. Rubbing my eyes, I noticed my hands were too. Were my hands ever this shape? Longer, paler?
My real hands were rough, scarred from any job—day labor, whatever—to raise my sister alone.
But those hard-earned badges were gone without a trace.
Looking down, my clothes were the same. Black mourning attire.
Shifting my gaze, a girl who looked about five sat beside me.
“...Dalia?”
No doubt about it. Hair color, eye color, even the mole on her cheek—identical. I’d believe it if they said the illustration went 3D.
The Dalia I’d seen was fifteen, so the age difference made sense.
Dalia opened her mouth with a blank, unchildlike expression.
“I... Dalia. Brother, Sierra. Butler’s name, don’t care.”
The old man who woke me was apparently the head butler. Clearing his throat, the butler corrected her politely.
“Lady Dalia. My name is Alberto.”
“No. Don’t care.”
I scanned our surroundings again. All three of us in the carriage wore dark clothes. Mourning garb, no question. The clothes, carriage, brooch—all luxurious.
“I’m Sierra Gluttony?”
One of the game characters my sister played obsessively before dying. Dalia’s brother, minor role, plain illustration. Indecisive weakling who doomed Dalia to misery and fumbled the heroine too.
That Sierra Gluttony was me.
Unbelievable, but undeniable. I checked my nails, pinched my cheek, shook my leg. Pain registered, the salt on my teary cheek felt real, my leg tingled.
Not a completely alien world, but the game world.
Where Duke’s Lady Dalia was the villainess. Where Dalia failed to use her abilities, lost to the heroine, abandoned by men.
The screen I vaguely saw before closing my eyes in my old world came back. Fifteen-year-old Dalia smiling brightly.
Please take care of me in this life too.
Was that what she meant?
The butler nodded solemnly.
“This is where House Gluttony must show it still stands strong. Your first official event as Duke Sierra Gluttony.”
I looked at Dalia, fiddling with her clothes’ decorations.
“Dalia, how old are you now?”
“Five.”
Five-year-old Dalia, funeral, Sierra Gluttony becomes duke.
I grasped the timeline instantly.
“Mother... has passed away...”
In the game, Dalia loses her mother at five. It wasn’t a tender farewell.
The duchess didn’t cherish the siblings. She felt no affection for children who took after the duke. It was a marriage for money and status from the start.
The duke died young too, leaving the siblings outcasts even in their own house.
My current self—Sierra—was fifteen. Still a kid. A fifteen-year-old duke couldn’t properly care for a young sibling.
Unloved, Dalia inevitably grew into a twisted villainess duke’s lady.
“Is today the starting point of misfortune for me and Dalia?”