Falling into Hell
There was a roguelike shit-game called Chronicles of Archea, the kind of kusoge that commanded a deep, cultish devotion from its maniac fanbase.
I loved that piece of garbage so much I plowed every last year of my teens and twenties straight into it. Real life was never the problem — the inheritance my parents left me was more than enough to live on, worry-free, for the rest of my days.
And so I went on like that, a no-life sunk into a single game, for nearly twenty years. Then, without any warning at all, I transmigrated into the shit-game itself.
Along with the other transmigrators.