Why Does This Only Happen to Me?
The very next day after visiting the guild and somehow ending up with a disciple, I stared at the pinnacle of modern technology right in front of me, my face lit up with anticipation.
"Finally..."
I pinched my cheek just to make sure this wasn't a dream. Nope, definitely real.
Haa... I'd been waiting for this moment forever. How many days had I spent in that mountain house, yearning for it during my year of isolation? Until just recently, I'd assumed this place was some fantasy world and given up hope entirely. But once I realized it was modern Earth—not some isekai after all—there was no reason to hold back anymore. Why would I, when the very thing I'd dreamed of actually existed here? Back in my old world, even a decent rig was way out of my budget; the best I could do was rent time at a PC bang. But now? No more worries like that. My computer, made by me, for me—right here, right now.
"Whoa..."
I gingerly pressed the power button, and the machine hummed to life. No wonder it was top-tier; it booted up in seconds. My old clunker back home took at least a minute just to crawl past the blue screen of death. This one? Ten seconds, tops, and it was ready to go. My sister had called it "not the latest model" compared to hers, but to me, this was more than enough. I was grateful.
"Whoa..."
This... this was the glory of modern tech. The blue glow of the screen felt like reuniting with an old friend. I'd tried once before, but my sister had "helped" by dragging me off for a bath before I could do anything, then tucked me into fresh pajamas and bed. Nothing accomplished, and it had bummed me out so much. But now? No interruptions. She'd gone to work, leaving me home alone.
"Kinda... nervous, though."
When she left earlier, she looked really worried about leaving me by myself. I told her I was used to it and fine, but that just seemed to make her sadder. Had I said something wrong? She'd prepped meals, told me to call if I wanted anything, then headed out. She'd even started explaining how to use the phone until I assured her I knew. Anyway...
"Just me in this big house now..."
No one around to stop me anywhere I looked. Total freedom!
"Let's start with a game..."
I'm pretty decent at them, actually. Sure, I couldn't play much at home, but when I did, I hyper-focused. I'd scour info online, watch pro streams—my skills were solid. I just lacked practice time.
"Now I can finally..."
Now I could climb to that tier I'd always wanted. Eyes gleaming, I grabbed the mouse. Link... start!
......
"Ah."
Dead. Well, that's the game for you... but damn, it felt so empty ending like that. If you think about it, games originated as kill-time diversions—maybe this one's the purest form. Not super fun, but it scratches that primal itch. If I could play anything else, I would, but why am I even bothering with this junk?
Irritated, I mashed restart. Simple rules: click hidden blocks to find mines. Uncover everything except the mines? You win. Hit one? Computer wins.
Sweat... no way this difficulty could stop m—
"Ah!"
This damn mouse! I nearly hurled it across the room but barely held back. Of course it's mouse-based, so misclicks happen constantly. I aim for one spot, but my hand slips and boom—mine. Trash game... no, can't blame the game. It's innocent. The problem's me...
Hoo... Staring at the game over screen, I let out a deep sigh.
"What now..."
No clue how to proceed. Can't keep grinding this forever, and mindless browsing won't cut it either. Surfing kills time, sure, but I want games, not just the computer.
Yeah, you're probably wondering why I'm playing Minesweeper when better games exist. Fair. But I overlooked two huge issues when my sister left.
First: controls. PCs are designed for adults—middle schoolers at least can handle a mouse properly. My hands aren't infant-tiny, so I can grip and move it fine. But precision? Forget it. MOBAs, FPS? No chance, even if I tried.
I hadn't launched one yet, but I knew.
"Life is trash..."
Instead of smashing the mouse, I faceplanted into the desk and cried. The computer's blameless; venting on it would be stupid. Break it, and I'm screwed. Rage never fixes anything.
Wait, other games exist, right? RPGs don't need twitchy mousework. Smart, huh? Nope—overlooked issue number two.
Before that, let me scream: This country is garbage! Utter worthless trash, unrecyclable, unneeded anywhere!
"Haa..."
I have no gaming account...
That's the killer. Controls I could hack somehow, but no account means no games, period. Tried logging into my old one? "Doesn't exist." Sad, but worse: can't play anything.
I drummed my fingers on the desk, pouting. How to fix this? Can't call my sister whining about no account. She's busy policing; it'd be peak annoyance.
Just sign up? You think I'm too dumb to try?
"I'm... over 20..."
Former college kid here, but my profile's set so low that new accounts demand guardian verification. Tried a few times, gave up. Overseas? Email's enough, no ID check. Why only here...? College age... called "sir" by kids... tears blurring my vision. Streaming down the desk... okay, not quite, but I'm crying.
"Can't stay like this..."
I'm a gamer. True gamers smash through obstacles for their fix. This crap won't kill my passion.
Only one way. I eyed my phone, then the computer, pulling up a game site. Same famous MOBA as my old world. Needs guardian auth? Sister can help!
She'd do it if I begged for this one game. Fingers flying, I entered an ID and password, then dialed her.
No choice—close my eyes, plead. Please verify so I can play...
Ring... ring... Everything rides on this call. You got this...!
I steeled myself.