Chapter 1
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: The Beginning
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I was an ordinary office worker.
I'd play games at night until I passed out.
One day, while playing Dung5, I somehow logged into another virtual reality game.
It was Atria Continent Chronicles.
The game had exploded in popularity at launch thanks to its hyper-realistic graphics, but no one had ever cleared it.
Doom, doom, doom. Nothing but bad endings.
The closest thing players had found to a happy ending was escaping to another world.
But even that was a shitty ending, with hints that the forces of evil would chase you there too.
Anyway, gamers worldwide had poured blood, sweat, and tears into clearing this game, but no one had ever truly cleared it.
I'd tried dozens of times myself. Around the 99th attempt or so... I'd seen the escape ending maybe twice, but otherwise, it was total bad ends. Never a proper clear.
Anyway, I'd grown sick of Dung5, so rubbing my sleepy eyes, I logged back in. Hmm... prologue cinematic. It's well-made, though.
I'd seen it so many times I couldn't count. Gotta skip it. Ah... Dung5 really is a sleeping pill. So sleepy... I dozed off mid-cutscene without even skipping.
A few hours later, a message popped up saying You have selected Emperor, but I had no idea.
1st Death: Panicking at the cheers from outside, clueless, only to have my throat slit by that bastard Duke Karls, the game character.
2nd Death: Same fumbling, same death.
3rd Death: Shouting for a status window, I saw the name Batanias von Atria and Save Point: 97. Then it hit me.
I'd become the emperor who dies in the prologue cutscene of Atria Continent Chronicles.
10th Death: Fleeing through a secret passage, killed—all the attendants were traitors.
20th: Headed to the Oath Room deep in my chambers, activated some crystal orb. Leaders from other kingdoms and nations appeared. "Rebellion's afoot, eh?" They mocked me. Throat slit by Karls.
30th: Secret passage retry—the head attendant was the ringleader. Screwed.
40th: Back to that council room from the 20th, summoned the foreign kings, begged for my life. Mocked again, killed by Karls.
50th...
70th...
90th...
My head feels like it's splitting. To be precise, it just had been.
The sensation of Duke Karls' gleaming mithril sword cleaving into my skull still lingers like an afterimage, prickling my brain.
I opened my eyes to the familiar ceiling. The chandelier's crystal shards glittered mockingly, one by one.
I took a deep breath. Filling my lungs wasn't the stench of blood, but an oppressively sweet fragrance and the rustle of fine silk.
I reflexively touched my neck. Still attached. For now.
"Your Majesty...?"
A thin, trembling voice from my feet. Looking down, a blonde woman in nothing but gossamer chiffon clung to my thigh, gazing up.
Teary eyes, lips pale with terror. What was her name? Erika? Alice? Couldn't remember.
Ever since possessing this damned emperor's body, I'd been on the run nonstop. No time to tumble with her. Eyes open, and rebel scum with swords would barge in.
I gripped the throne's armrest hard. Cold metal bit into my palm.
'Damn it.'
A curse rose to my throat. Dung5, that shitty sleeping pill game—I'd gotten bored and logged into this one after ages. That was my downfall.
Atria Continent Chronicles.
Yeah, the graphics were killer. Textures so real they rivaled photorealism, down to the pores.
But the difficulty was insane.
Clearly made by devs at war with players, the poster child for unclimbable mountains. Even global rankers banging their heads together couldn't glimpse the happy ending credits.
The best they'd scraped up was the "Fugitive Ending" bailing to another world—and even that had a fishy aftertaste.
I'd seen that crap ending a couple times myself. But what now? Possessed as that vile emperor? As the minor villain whose head rolls in the prologue cinematic?
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙
[Remaining Save Points: 2]
99 chances. Seemed plenty at first. But Karls, that mad bastard, was too strong.
Way too strong. Straight-up fights, traps, fleeing, even grabbing his pant leg and begging—same result.
Throat slit, heart pierced, burned by magic, poisoned... 97 deaths. 97 agonies. Just two left.
"Y-Your Majesty... the cheers outside..."
The woman clung tighter to my leg, mumbling. Her ample breasts squished against my shin, but annoyance trumped any thrill. Yeah, that chant outside. "Execute the tyrant!" "Long live the Duke!" Sickeningly familiar repertoire.
I rose from the throne. My knee joints creaked.
The soul-weary fatigue from 97 slaughterings weighed down my flesh.
The mirror framed in gold showed the same face: pale skin, sharp neurotic eyes, ostentatious black uniform screaming luxury. Anyone could tell, "I'm the bad guy."
Boom!
The heavy throne room doors thudded dully. Here we go. Exactly three minutes until they shatter.
No escape routes in that time. Windows dropped to sheer cliffs, secret passages blocked by the traitorous head attendant—confirmed in my dozenth deaths.
"Hey, you."
I nudged the woman's shoulder with my foot.
"Y-Yes? Your Majesty?"
"Stay there, you'll get splattered. Hide behind that pillar."
She blinked in confusion, then scrambled away at my icy glare.
Her thin dress hiked up, flashing pale buttocks jiggling as she crawled.
Even this extra NPC fighting to live—how could I, the player, give up?
I drew the decorative sword at my waist. Gem-encrusted junk, balance all off.
Block Duke Karls, continent's top swordsman, with this? Might as well drill rock with a toothpick.
Boom! Crack!
Fissures spiderwebbed the massive oak doors. Crimson torchlight and murderous eyes gleamed through the gaps. Familiar.
Too familiar—I could predict the splinter trajectories now.
Doors exploded in a dust cloud. Through it strode a man in silver plate: Karls. Handsome bastard, cursed protagonist. Armed soldiers flooded in behind, encircling the throne.
Karls dropped his bloodied sword to the floor, looking up with contempt, rage, a hint of pity. 97 times, still unaccustomed.
He spoke slowly. Lines word-perfect, no doubt.
"Emperor, your tyranny ends today."
I sighed deeply, slouching against the throne. Tapped the floor with my sword tip.
"Hey, Karls... this is boring... Aren't you sick of it?"
No questions, Karls slashed my throat like I'd said nothing.
His sword swept horizontal—vision spun. Ceiling became floor, floor ceiling in weird buoyancy.
Hot liquid from my neck splashed my cheek.
'Hot.'
Then blackout.
Eyes open: same chandelier. Crystals mocking me. 99th morning.
Over it now. Tried everything.
Last time, gaze at the alliance pricks—no, continent leaders—while dying.
Especially jerk off to Queen Helena before going.
Those tits... What? This palace has a special room.
The Oath Room—hosts continental summits.
Like modern video calls, but magic holograms.
Lore says surrounding kingdoms' ancestors swore to the empire's founder; emperor summons, they must attend virtually.
This emperor's the last bloodline, so I can summon all leaders here.
In-game, that line dies, so no one uses it.
Anyway, kings and queens must answer my summons.
After finding the room at 20th death, around 40th I begged them for life—got zilch but sneers.
Fuck it. Couldn't bag Queen Helena in game proper, so hologram jerk-off it is.
Last chance. Really...
I bolted upright in bed. The blonde beside me—Erika or Alice, whatever—flinched, curling up.
Her bare white body slipped from the sheets, but I ignored it.
"Your Majesty...?"
Ignoring her quiver, I strode to the wardrobe, yanked on pants.
Hands shaking.
Torrent of fear, rage, futility.
98 deaths: throats slit, guts pierced, burned, poisoned, tumbled down stairs. Karls, that self-righteous prick, ignored pleas, negotiations—even pants-off dances. Same end.
'This is truly the last.'
I glared at my reflection: handsome tyrant's face. But dark circles under eyes, hollow gaze.
No will to live left. If dying, satisfy lust first.
📰 Atria Continent Chronicles Strategy Community
Game too hard? Made to be cleared at all?
— Anonymous
Female chars are hot, so just enjoy the ride
— LolPlayer
Everyone dies anyway lol what's the point ㅋㅋ