Transmigrated into an Unwinnable Game

I'd possessed an impossible-to-clear game. 『You have died. Survival time: 4 years, 6 months, 17 days, 3 hours, 53 minutes』 Another pitch-black defeat screen, right on cue.

And then, in the bottom right corner of that screen, a new window popped up announcing an achievement unlock.

A whopping 1,000 times. That was the number of failures for a self-proclaimed namer who'd made a name for himself in the gallery, trying to conquer this godforsaken RPG.

The game itself had no filler. For a classic RPG, it boasted impressive freedom, introducing systems unimaginable back then. The only problem? The final bosses. Jenia of the Plague, Sword Ghost Rapland, Magic Disaster Silpi. These three emerge at 4 years, 4.5 years, and 5 years in-game time, respectively. And with them comes the slow rot eating away at the entire continent from the edges inward. A fitting legacy for bosses worthy of the title.

Anyone could guess the ending from that alone. Slay the three final bosses and become the true hero who saves the world, right?

'If that were possible, would I have died 1,000 times?'

Conquering the bosses was straight-up impossible. Jenia's plague aura dealt constant damage with no way to cleanse it. Pump your health sky-high? Pointless—the debuff stacks indefinitely. Then there was Rapland's unavoidable instakill dodges, Silpi's wide-area mana drain, and more. No way to stop these continent-munchers.

Even that soccer team's vaunted MSN trio would have to bow down. Ironically, the devs officially released the bosses' drop tables. Meaning they believed the game was clearable by killing them. But from a player's perspective? Hell no.

How many times had I spat, 'This ain't a game!'? Couldn't even remember anymore.

'If I can't clear it, I'll have to spam burgers in the gallery...'

The guy who'd bragged about clearing it in 10 tries was long gone. All that remained was a sleazy idiot calculating how many burgers it'd take to calm the mob.

A troll post from a throwaway? They'd let it slide. But shit from my main account? Had to clean it up somehow.

Shit games come in shades, but this one? Pure crap.

"Fuck it."

I wiped the game from my computer completely. Sure, I'd be lying if I said there were no regrets, but clinging to an unclimbable wall? Nah. I like shit games, not actual shit.

"Ah, burgers..."

Maybe quit being a gallery namer. Time to live a normal life. Not because my bank account's screaming. Nope. Definitely not.

...That's what I thought as I drifted off to sleep last night.

"Have you caught a cold, young master?"

I opened my eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling and a mustached old butler.

'Am I dreaming...?'

Something was seriously wrong.

Three days since waking to that strange ceiling. I'd grilled Luton for info nonstop, learning plenty in the process.

To sum it up in three neat lines:

1. This world is that shit game—no, pure shit—I'd been grinding.

2. I'm my character, Ryd Blanc.

3. Five years until this world turns ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dark fantasy apocalypse.

Clean enough to make some AI weep. Deep learning won't steal his job anytime soon.

'Points 1 and 2 ain't half bad.'

I knew that game inside out—could navigate blindfolded. And this body? My meticulously raised character. Trash starting stats, but maxed potential. Survive the early game, and it's smooth sailing forever.

Orphaned early, so I'm head of the Blanc Barony Estate—no noble rival bullshit. Plus, no burger bribes for gallery trolls. That's +200 points! Total: 210. (Full score's 100, FYI.)

But point 3? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Five years to doom. Plague awakens in 5, Sword Ghost in 5.5, Magic Disaster in 6. Livable land shrinks in real time. Silver lining: a one-year grace period over the game. Big whoop—we die before we can swing anyway.

Me? Faced with "Die today or tomorrow?" I'd pick today. Hate trembling in dread.

'So, what now...'

What I had to do was obvious: stop the three final bosses from awakening. Easier said than done. Original game made it impossible—I tried over 200 methods. Reliable intel.

"Young master, shall we dine?"

"Ah, thanks."

"Merely my duty."

Luton brought brunch mid-brood: bread, soup, fried eggs, sausage. Simple, classic, satisfying. Side note: taught him "thanks" since he didn't know it. His occasional "thanks-" echoes were quirky, but I let it slide. Not that uptight.

Anyway. Need a plan ASAP. Time waits for no one.

People shout this in desperate moments, right...?

"Status Window."

No translucent display. No clichéd transmigrator powers. I'd tried 30 times last night—embarrassing as hell now.

"First up, what to do with that bitch Jenia..."

I muttered, spearing sausage with my fork. Then, an alien glow hit my plate. I looked up: translucent display. Finally!

Incredibly, it wasn't my status—it was final boss Jenia's. Even better. Know your enemy, win every battle.

I read it slowly.

'Seems legit...'

Okay, think. I knew Plague Jenia's full name: Jenia Lü Drvan. Knew she gets kidnapped by mercs and sold as a slave. Ends up in a forest full of mad black mages—her red hair makes her "special" to them. And yeah, she has real power. Not just cult bullshit. Then the horrific experiments...

'Urgh, stomach's churning.'

That's the backstory from the setting bible. Read it hoping for a hidden clear method. Nope. Hence 1,000 fails.

Mercs with 218 combat power? My peak character would sneeze them away. Early Jenia must be total trash-tier dogshit.

Makes me feel wronged for no reason.

Anyway.

'Laderu Auction House...'

Laderu: a city one full day's carriage from here. Hosts a monthly underground auction—shady dealings in stolen treasures, people, even corpses. I'd exploited it plenty in-game. Know it like my palm.

Bought slaves? ...No 19+ scenes anyway. Never after that. Devs lacked basics.

"Young master, is something wrong?"

"Huh?"

"You were staring blankly into space."

Luton couldn't see my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠display. Standard trope—fine. Still, better not use it publicly. They'd think I'm nuts.

"Luton, how much cash do we have at home?"

"Five gold coins..."

Five times my character's starting funds. Unexpected windfall. Had faith!

"Y-young master...! No gambling...! Please, for this butler's sake...! Just last week you blew a chunk of gold..."

His eyes weren't normal for a reason. This body's a wastrel playboy, huh? Parents die of stress?

'No, nope.'

I shook my head, banishing the thought. Even at my worst, I respected my parents. Sent allowance monthly. And it ain't my deeds anyway. No need to dwell.

Right now, priorities.

"...Jenia."

Calling her name again made the display vanish. Pretty embarrassing...

"Have you found a lady...? And need money for that...?"

Looks like I need to teach Luton some discretion.