Before the Fruits of Choice (1)

Looking back on my life, the truths I'd learned boiled down to one in the large view, and two when you cut them finer.

First: nothing is more useless than the words that can't be.

And second, the lesson that follows once you've learned the first: so it's better to focus on the present.

In short — the world throws an absurd amount of things at you, and among them are plenty of situations no sane person would believe. So don't go around declaring things impossible or writing them off. Just do your best, moment by moment.

Like when I optimistically assumed the game would shut itself off eventually even after that damned logout bug hit.

Like when I buried myself in the game as if I were certain of a truth I already knew wasn't absolute.

Of course, to someone else, a guy like me would look careless.

I'll grant that much. From a certain angle, my optimism could pass for negligence.

But would choosing pessimism over optimism have changed my immediate circumstances? The situation? The conclusion I was going to meet either way?

In a crisis you can neither control nor resolve, no attitude is the correct answer. It's only a way of enduring. Of hanging on.

Before we reached Tatara, we made camp in the forest for a meal and a little sleep. Camp, such as it was — one campfire and sleeping rolled up tight in a cloak. Still.

The nutrient solution loaded into the capsule had run out a long time ago. Funny thing was, the related notification still hadn't appeared.

Maybe — yeah. Maybe the capsule itself had simply broken. It had cost as much as a car, but some things fail no matter how carefully you treat them. A man born to lose will crack his nose even falling over backward.

And if the capsule hadn't failed, the emergency protocol wouldn't refuse to work.

I muttered it anyway, knowing it wouldn't work. Crack. Pop. Beyond the infuriating window, the campfire burned prettily on.

As for other sounds — well. It was night, and the surroundings were utterly still. Everyone was asleep, trusting the barrier the mage had raised.

"…Hah."

So was it time to admit it.

That I was completely trapped inside the game. That for the moment, there was no way out.

"…Damn it."

I cursed under my breath, absently rubbing my right arm where it itched for no good reason.

My cramped chest was demanding a cigarette — something I'd quit in my twenties. I wanted to breathe out a sigh with color in it.

"Am I going to die like this……"

Would the articles read: man dies gaming after a bug stacked on top of a hardware failure? That kind of fame I could do without.

No — would my death even be discovered?

My parents lived at the family home; they had no way of knowing what was going on with their son living alone.

Friends. They'd write it off as me going dark again because I'd lost myself in a game. I had more than enough of a track record for that.

If I'd still been serializing a work, maybe, but I'd finished, so there was no reason for my editor to contact me either.

I could try to get a message out through party play, but I hadn't connected to the internet……

As for the sponsorship side of things…… no. That was on auto-transfer, and no contact was better. If the kid heard their sponsor had died, they'd be heartbroken.

Or would the sponsorship just stop if the sponsor died? I'd never researched that field. Still, what was left in the account should cover them until adulthood.

"……"

I fixed my eyes on the campfire and let the thoughts run on, hollow and continuous. Most of them were about the fallout my death would leave.

Grieving parents. Friends who'd show up at the funeral. Industry acquaintances. Readers who'd leave condolences in the comments……

"I never imagined dying like this."

Strangely, no tears came. Was it because the death I'd been handed was so ridiculous that it still didn't feel real?

I was like a frog in a pot. The water heating so slowly the frog never notices the temperature changing, and just sits there until it dies.

Which, for the record, is actually a myth.

"…If someone… noticed."

If anyone — anyone at all — realized my silence was strange, and came to pull me out.

Maybe I could live. Was it all right to hope for that possibility?

"Hah…… who'd notice."

Of course it wouldn't happen. And even at the earliest it would take another two weeks, and whether I could last that long was an open question.

Nutrients were one thing, but humans don't last long without water. Three or four days, at best.

So I leaned fully against the tree. Once I'd decided there was no escape from the death waiting for me, the strength drained straight out of my body.

"If only this had been a trip……"

And then, suddenly, one absurd thought took over my head.

Was it because I spent so much time around fiction? Or was it the escape of a man so powerless he couldn't even thrash?

Scenery far too realistic to be a game. NPCs built too much like actual people. A structure that had thrown convenience out the window — all of it fed the delusion.

Honestly, sudden leaps in technology this extreme often led to the classic twist: it was another world all along.

Of course, believing it for real was tough with a UI and a system present. The fact that my chosen appearance had transferred over. The existence of weapons and an inventory. Even the clothes that washed and mended themselves.

Reality didn't offer conveniences like that.

And yet I couldn't easily let the thought go, probably because possession or a dimensional trip looked better than starving to death.

After all, my life's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠motto was to leave every possibility open — and I preferred living to dying.

"…Wait."

But I'd been roleplaying this whole time.

…Ah?

I ran back through the trail of my own conduct as it flashed through my mind. The color draining from my face was only natural.

All of that was real? Absolutely not. Completely unacceptable.

Before the problem of having to risk my life to kill the Demon King — if the way I'd been tormenting the NPCs had actually been me going berserk on living human beings, what the hell was I supposed to do about my social standing?

It was the feeling of walking out in your underwear because you thought only your closest friends were coming over, then running face-first into a stranger one of them had brought along.

Embarrassing. Mortifying.

And while bugs and hardware failures at least let you blame something else, in this case there was no one to dump the responsibility on. I'd chosen it all. I'd done it all!

"Ah, damn it."

It seemed better than starving to death, and in another sense it was even more despairing — so I prayed that neither of them was true.

It was a thoroughly cursed situation.

"You're awake."

Ever since I'd realized my misfortune either way, it seemed I'd spent a hollow night.

"……"

"…What are you staring at like that."

But being unlucky didn't mean I wanted to die.

There was nothing else I could do anyway, so I decided to keep playing the game.

Improving relations with the companion NPCs, and dialing back the concept personality a bit, were bonuses on top of that decision.

"……?"

It wasn't because I was specially convinced this was another world. Whether this place was a game or reality, acting this way was simply more profitable.

Especially the concept change.

If it was a game, I could keep acting the way I had. But if this was a real world that existed…… I was going to cooperate with them all the way to taking down Satan.

Just in case, I was only trying to act a little more cooperative.

Of course this couldn't be reality — it absolutely must not be — but still!

"Demon Knight."

"What."

But why was the Inquisitor glaring at me like that again. What. What now. Did she raise my affinity behind my back and then lower it behind my back too?

"Would you care for a meal?"

"…Fine."

"……!"

Wondering what on earth was going on inside that red head of hers, I gave my answer.

The next moment, the Inquisitor's eyes went wide and her hand closed on her mace. White light gathered along it.

"A demon!"

…What?

"…What are you talking about."

I had to react to the word demon, so I twisted my face and took hold of my sword hilt.

Dev, who had been cleaning up the campfire, and the Archmage, who had just barely opened his eyes, both flinched in alarm. Fair enough. I didn't understand this situation either.

"W-what's going on."

"What……"

I don't know either. But she's picking a fight out of nowhere. I was going to treat everyone well starting today.

Hadn't the whole demon-in-the-right-arm issue been settled ages ago?

"Fall back behind me!"

But instead of explaining, the Inquisitor only herded the startled pair behind her. It was enough to drive a man insane.

What is this even about! At least let me know the reason!

"Did you think I would fall for it?!"

"What are you talking about this early in the—"

"The Demon Knight does not speak so gently!"

…Excuse me?

"He does not answer me! And when someone calls him a demon, he draws his sword first instead of asking questions — that is the man I know!"

……????

"You who luckily seized his body for a moment — did you dare try to impersonate him?!"

I could not get my mind around the Inquisitor's shout. Just now, what? No? What?

"That vile trick will not work on me!"

…She's joking, right?

"Wh-what are you doing? Why are you suddenly treating Sir Knight like—"

"…No. Wait a moment."

I didn't know where to start untangling the Inquisitor's misunderstanding, so I absently tried to look toward the Archmage.

If he was a Sage, I figured, he'd give the Inquisitor an age-appropriate lesson on how absurd ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this all was.

"What do you mean, wait!"

"The Inquisitor is right."

But the Archmage betrayed my expectations too!

I twitched my lips as my blood pressure spiked.

"Do not worry, Demon Knight! I will not fall for a loathsome demon's performance! As I promised, I will buy time until you drive the demon out and return!"

No — where the hell did this misunderstanding even start? Why are they suddenly convinced I've been taken over by a demon?

And last time, when she said she'd leave something with me and talk about buying ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠time — that was build-up for this? I was going to lose my mind.

"……"

Worse still, the Archmage and the Inquisitor both wore expressions of such iron resolve that no excuse, no explanation, seemed likely to get through to them.

Even if I confessed the truth — this is an act — they'd just go, we don't listen to demons! Especially that stiff-necked, thick-skulled Kimchi Dumpling!

So then what. Pretend I was withdrawing the goodwill I'd shown on a whim because it had been rejected?

They wouldn't buy that either. I didn't have the confidence to sell it in the first place. At best I'd get mad, turn around, and leave alone — and there was no guarantee they wouldn't start second-guessing me after that.

"If you will not come, then I will go to you!"

…Above all, if I misread their interpretation later and acted wrong again, she was going to pull this exact stunt a second time!

"…Haha."

I dodged the Inquisitor's attack and pressed a hand to my forehead.

"They figured it out… they actually figured it out……"

A thick wave of existential exhaustion slammed through my head.

"I suppose this is as far as it goes this time……"

Even as I acted, it was ridiculous. Worse than ridiculous — it was too much.

I had to go this far? I enjoyed roleplaying, sure, but because of these NPCs' character readings I had to do a one-man double act — dual personality and all?

No, more than that — was their reading of my character for real? I'd deliberately acted that way, but how did one single instance get them to you're not him!?

This — this I could not accept. A situation this deranged must not become reality! This had to be a game, no exceptions!

"I knew it! My eyes were not wrong!"

I sank into shame at Kimchi Dumpling's cry. There was no helping it.

The only reason I'd been able to throw all dignity aside and roleplay until now was that it was something only I saw — and when I did pull other people in, it was only under an unspoken mutual agreement.

In other words, I'd roleplayed because it wasn't real.

But what if it wasn't that? Regardless of whether it was true, the mere fact that the possibility had been raised flooded me with embarrassment.

I desperately wanted a hole to crawl into.

"Next time…… I will not return so easily."

I delivered the line and still felt like I was going to die of shame. I could feel my face burning and couldn't stop it.

I wanted to face-plant into a plate and die.

"Demon Knight!"

In the end I covered my face with my hand as if shielding it, and toppled over just like that. Whether it was because I'd fallen on my own, the three of them came running toward me.

But I couldn't watch that spectacle with a clear head.

So I decided to cut my consciousness instead. Using the system, it wasn't hard at all.

Please. When I wake up, reality. When I wake up, reality! Before my social standing dies, please!

"Demon Knight!"

The Inquisitor saw him fall ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and rushed forward in a panic.

Was he running a fever from the fierce struggle with the demon inside? The fallen man's face was redder than usual.

"Sir?!"

She reflexively drew up Holy Power to treat him — then abruptly reined it back in as her brow furrowed instead.

She had forgotten that the power of the gods acted as poison on a body that held a demon. The Archmage had explained that when he first joined them.

"Fortunately, he has only fallen asleep for a moment. There is no need to worry overmuch."

"I-is that so?"

"Hey. Is something wrong with the boss? Demons this and that first thing in the morning. And why'd he suddenly collapse……"

At least it was only sleep. As for why he had suddenly fallen asleep…… he had probably entered a proper contest for control with the demon.

I never imagined dying like this.

She recalled the voice she had heard in the night.

…If someone… noticed.

Right after speaking of death, that damp, cracked voice had held a wish. She turned it over again.

No doubt the Demon Knight had foreseen this situation. And the reason he had not told them was that they had not yet earned his trust.

"Are you ignoring me?"

"Be silent."

Her thoughts were interrupted. She shot a sharp glare at the thief she could not stand to have in her heart, then scooped the Demon Knight up with ease. She would not leave him on the cold ground; she meant to lay him on the blanket that had not yet been packed away.

"He will wake."

She settled the Demon Knight properly without difficulty and spread her own cloak over him. Given his temperament he would not welcome it, but there was no help for it. The body she had touched for only a moment while lifting him had been far too cold.

"…He will wake, yes. We simply will not know which of them has woken."

The Archmage's doubt was reasonable. Right after first meeting the Demon Knight, she herself had thought the same.

"I wonder. I believe I will know."

But she no longer doubted.

"He will not lose to a demon."

The Demon Knight would never be defeated by a demon.

"Ah, so what the hell is actually going on."

"Silence! Do not disturb his sleep, you criminal!"

"What, says the religious thug!"

"You base thief!"

…So she would trust that the Demon Knight would wake — and clear that criminal out of the way in advance!