Gacha Addiction

It's common knowledge that plenty of players out there aren't in their right minds. It's just that I'd never had occasion to experience it for myself.

Why, you ask? Because this was my first time on the main stage, that's why.

Not that the novelty of it posed much of an obstacle. I had, after all, just come back from a bloody brawl with a pink slime. Every inch of me was slathered in sticky goo, which had my stress gauge sitting squarely at maximum—and with some strange woman spouting nonsense on top of everything, irritation was only natural.

"Well, I mean, I suppose that could happen. Heh heh."

But the number now staring me in the face washed every last trace of that irritation away. What was it they said—the best therapy is financial therapy?

"Chicken tonight, baby."

In an era when a single fried chicken cost 40,000 won, I hadn't let myself have one in almost two months. But my income had just multiplied two and a half times over, so one lousy chicken should have been pocket change.

"Wow. Thirty-seven thousand even with a coupon. That's fucking steep."

...Okay, so maybe it wasn't pocket change. Still, I genuinely had no reason to flinch at sums like that anymore. The road of growth lay open before me now, which meant I'd soon be earning well beyond what the area around the fifth floor paid out—which meant that, for the time being, points mattered more than money.

I tore into the chicken, delivered a mere thirty minutes after I ordered it, and pulled up my system window as I ate.

Oho. More than I'd expected.

Of course, that was with yet another day stacked on top. I mean, more than two hundred days had gone by for Pon, and the newly pulled workshop girl had been at it for over three months as well. I'd figured a decent pile would have accumulated by now, but seeing more than 300 points come in per day still put my mind at ease.

One extra stat enhancement per day? I could predict that the stat gains would be somewhat nonlinear—after all, the thing had basic right there in its name. Even so, there was no question I'd be growing stronger at an unprecedented pace.

"...Huh? The kid's been raking it in, too?"

This unexpected windfall seemed to owe a great deal to the workshop girl's unexpected performance. The system messages corroborated it.

Hold on—she'd out-earned Pon? Apparently she'd even managed to grow a skill entirely on her own. No wonder the kid had always seemed so sharp.

In high spirits, I pulled up the workshop girl's information.

Even going by the basics alone, she differed quite a bit from Pon. She carried a trait—just the one, but still—plus three skills. And the level-4 one among them was something she'd raised entirely through her own effort.

I kept comparing the two, which felt a little guilty, but there was a different feel to her than Pon. I supposed it was the same principle as performance varying even among heroes of the same rank. Going by everything, she was probably a top-tier performer among Normal-rank heroes.

With her background and state of mind laid out as well, the picture of who she was came into even sharper focus. What a capable, devoted daughter.

And when I switched to spectator mode and skimmed her actual hero activity logs beyond the summary, it became unmistakable. Marta, putting up with comparatively unfair treatment at the big workshop yet stubbornly enduring it and proving her skill all the same. The bright, sunny energy of that optimistic orange-haired girl coaxed a smile out of me before I knew it.

"You've earned yourself a reward."

Nothing extravagant, of course. But I could certainly make her strong enough to breeze through the workshop's full-time exam.

Hero growth, then and there. The first-purchase discount appeared to apply separately for each hero, so investing just the points Marta had earned herself would be more than enough.

...The hell is this, a whole buffet? Messages came cascading down the screen, and Marta's flustered expression in spectator mode seemed to match my own, more or less.

Marta's reaction was a little different from Pon's. After staring at her own hands on the screen again and again, she finally spoke in a dazed voice.

"...My prayer got answered?"

Apparently, right up until a moment ago, she'd been praying to pass the full-time exam coming up in a few weeks. Of course, that faith of hers was nothing concrete—just the light, casual act of wishing at the sky, nothing more. Which was why Marta now wore a somewhat bemused expression at this situation that had descended on her out of nowhere.

Spending points here would apparently even let me send her a message—words through the system, or a voice—but...

I decided to pass on that. A thousand points burned on a single voice message? No way in hell.

"It's not like that."

The moment my post went up on the gallery, the comments came racing in, and my nose stung for a moment. Just how tragically pathetic a bastard was I being taken for? So I spent a while leaving clarifying replies, then shut the gallery.

"Seriously, though—which one do I pick?"

There was exactly one reason I'd posted a shitpost like that.

A notification that had popped up out of nowhere. A payment prompt as predictable as they come—and at the same time, vicious salesmanship I couldn't tear my eyes away from. I had gone and fallen for it, completely.

"...I'm supposed to be buying stats, dammit."

If I spent those 1,500 points on stats, they'd carry me up to around the ninth floor. But buying this supply box instead meant jackpot or bust. I couldn't even know for certain what was inside. And yet that time-sale banner shook me to my core. How was anyone supposed to resist that?

"Nnnnghhh..."

Caught in that tug-of-war, I kept agonizing for a good long while. Of course, an original price of 15,000 points was no guarantee the thing was actually worth 15,000. Points weren't exactly flooding in to the point of surplus, so they needed to be spent with care. And yet. And yet—how the hell was I supposed to resist?

"Ugh, whatever."

After more than two full hours of deliberation, the choice that won out was: gambling. Apparently I, too, was a gacha gamer beyond saving...

FWAAASH—!

And in the next instant, light erupted skyward. Hands pressed together, I prayed with everything I had. For a moment there, it felt like I might understand my heroes' hearts just a little.

"PLEEEEEEASE—!"

And then, a little while later, the reward revealed itself before my eyes.

Pewpook?

"...Pewpook?"