No Longer Human

To gather two reality points, I had to intrude into a masterpiece. But what exactly counted as a masterpiece? It sure as hell wasn't my standard. Most of the books I considered masterpieces were web novels. Did it have to be something made of text? What about movies or games? Songs, buildings, paintings, sculptures—plenty of those got called masterpieces too.

Judging by the message telling me to read more masterpieces to update the library, it probably only counted books. Still, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you never knew. Abilities growing and expanding their range was a classic trope. Even though it wasn't my taste, I figured I'd read something famous like Animal Farm and check if it got added to the intrusion list.

A little while ago, my uptight classmate ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠who couldn't stand web novels had wandered into the clubroom and was rocking back on his chair. "You're gonna fall doing that."

"Aaaagh!!"

Thud.

"What the—?! Since when were you there?!"

"I got here before you."

"You were so quiet I didn't even notice you..."

Probably thanks to my stealth-type skills. This guy loved reading boring old books, so he probably knew plenty of actual masterpieces worth recommending.

"Recommend me something to read. Not web novels—something famous that you like. And no stories with godlike beings."

"Godlike beings? You mean like Greek mythology? So you've finally decided to read something cultured people would approve of? Even the literature club, where one guy only reads web novels and some girl only reads fanfiction, is getting a spring breeze."

"Web novels are plenty cultured. Stop yapping and just recommend something."

"Fine. For someone as impatient as you, this should be perfect."

He pulled a book off the shelf. The cover had no illustration, just the title printed on it.

Huh. I'd heard the phrase "no longer human" plenty of times before. Guess it came from this novel.

"Thanks. I'll give it a read."

"Yeah. I've got something urgent to take care of."

After watching my classmate rush out, I opened the book. Why No Longer Human? Hopefully it was about the protagonist cleaning up human trash.

Thanks to my Intelligence and Agility stats, I tore through the two-hundred-page book at ridiculous speed. Thirty Agility was basically a curse—it made me finish this garbage way too fast.

"What a goddamn idiot!!!!"

My blood pressure spiked after reading such a frustrating story in such a short time. The protagonist of No Longer Human was a thoughtful guy. Too thoughtful, actually—he was an idiot who couldn't see what was right in front of him. A pathetic loser who spent his whole life avoiding human relationships, drowning himself in alcohol, and chasing fleeting pleasures somehow kept getting chances from women because he had a pretty face. Then he kept sabotaging his own life over and over for two hundred pages. What the hell did he mean by "someone who hates frustrating things should read this"? This was the most infuriating novel I'd ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠read since ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Animal Farm.

I got it now. "Masterpiece" just meant "a novel that pisses you off when you read it."

I was going to intrude right now and beat some sense into that worthless bastard's head.

Shhhhhh—

Slap—

A dark night. A beach with crashing waves. Standing at the edge, staring out at the black sea, the full moon hanging over the horizon felt like it was watching me. Turning my back to the moon, I saw a young couple in their early twenties walking slowly toward me across the sand, hand in hand. The guy had left his belt and cloak on a rock. He was ridiculously handsome, so he had to be the protagonist.

"You little shit. I'm about to cram some common sense into that head of yours."