Chapter 1: Sometimes

To be honest, this post kinda sucks lol.

In an empty space, I move my finger from bottom to top, then top to bottom.

Anyone watching might think I’m some kind of nutcase.
But just as people’s actions have reasons, I’ve got my own reasons for this.

Swipe swipe.
After a few trial-and-error attempts, my fingers finally get the hang of it, smoothly summoning a window in the air.

Nice.

A translucent screen hovers over my hand—its very existence questionable, yet boldly asserting itself to me.

A floating display above my hand.
Can others see it?
Or is what I’m seeing just a hallucination?

For someone like me, always mindful of others’ gazes, this is a life-or-death matter.

“Yeah, super important.”

But those stray thoughts fade as I glance at the item list displayed.

Consumables

Salmon Sushi (x9999)
Salmon Sushi (x9999)
Salmon Sushi (x9999)
Salmon Sushi (x3896)
Sparkling Pika (x864)
Dismantling Potion (x9999)

I click on the salmon sushi.
The count drops by one.
3895.
An awkward number.
And that weirdly named drink, Pika, drops too.
863 now.
Since yesterday, I’ve used four sushi and five drinks.

At first, I was shocked.
I was just messing around, waving my hand in the air out of boredom, and this weird window popped up.

Yeah, back then, I might’ve looked like a total lunatic.
Good thing no one saw.

The two items I consume were originally for health and mana recovery, but whether they still work that way is anyone’s guess.
For now, they’re just a way to fill my empty stomach.

My class doesn’t even need mana, so what happens if I drink one?

Since my class only has health and no mana, I don’t need mana recovery potions.
But I guess I never sold the ones I got from hunting long ago.
Pretty grateful for that now.

I pop a sushi in my mouth.
Mmm.
Worth its price.
Salmon sushi, with its glossy, plump look, shines as always.
My meal now.
Nom.

One eaten, four pieces left.

As shown on the icon, each salmon sushi has five pieces.
Back then, it might’ve felt a bit lacking, but with this body, it’s just right.
I finish with a veggie juice—a weird carbonated drink—for a final cleanse and stand up.

Who the hll made this?
Sht.

No, scratch that.
I can’t believe I picked this up and stored it in my inventory.
I want to smack the me who thought this was a good idea.

For a moment, I seriously consider tossing all the mana recovery drinks.
I don’t need them, right?
But still… maybe I could sell them at a shop or something.

The nightmare of that carbonated coffee comes back.
Bitter coffee mixed with sour fizz, exploding in my mouth.
One sip, and I spat it out.

Who the hll comes up with this crap?
A mana recovery item with that taste?

I hope whoever made these suffers forever.
Step on gum or something.

For the record, that carbonated coffee went straight to the sewer.
I’m innocent.

Good thing I didn’t go for a mage class.
Those guys have to chug this stuff constantly.
How do they down dozens of bottles mid-fight in this game’s setting?

Tap tap.
I dust myself off and stand.
Enough daydreaming.
Time to move.

My preparations, started yesterday, are mostly done.
Just sorting out what I can do, what I have, and what I can use.
A full day of research.

Thanks to that, I’ve got a rough grasp of the situation.

Oh, and yesterday, I was basically rolling around on the floor in a panic, eating sushi and passing out.
Only this morning did I check my stuff and face reality.

Nom.
I eat the last sushi.
The board vanishes once I finish.
Natural recycling, huh?
Impressive.
The sushi was delicious, by the way.

Equipment window, or let’s just call it inventory—too lazy for anything else.
My inventory holds everything I’ve hunted so far: equipment, consumables, materials from monsters.

This kind of detailed, meticulous inventory wouldn’t exist in some half-baked dream world.

At least this isn’t some lame dream.

I glance at my equipment window.
Ebony Set armor.
Three event rings plus five boss rings, eight total.
A few accessories—necklace, earrings—all +15 enhanced.
And a decent weapon I begged off a friend quitting the game.
A proud full set.

I’m totally in the top 70% of players.

Everything but the weapon came from a returnee user box, unenhanceable gear.
A pay-to-win player with +30 gear might see me, think I’m a newbie, and beg me not to quit, offering carries and handouts.
Why’s my spec so low?
I’ve got a real life to live…

A couple hours of gaming on weekends.
Spending only on cosmetics.
Running a raid or two, then chilling in scenic spots to admire my outfit.
Studying during exams, traveling with friends during breaks—that’s me, an ordinary person.

No matter how fun the game is, no matter how it’s a space for my pure past self or a companion for my memories…

A game is just a game.

A trivial thing, erased with a gesture, forgotten over time.

At least, that’s how it was for me.

“Why, though?”

Anger and frustration mix in my voice.
I’m startled by my own tone.
Fck, am I really this messed up over some dumb stuff?

Really.

Why?

Why me?

Just an ordinary person living day by day.

How did I end up in such an unreal situation?

I quietly glance to the side.
A shard of broken glass catches my eye.
In it, a beautiful young girl is reflected.

Not some hospital name scrawled on it—just a pure white patient gown on a young girl.
Injured, maybe?
White bandages wrap sparsely around her wrists, elbows, neck, legs, and ankles.
Bandages on her torso or chest, too, perhaps—flashes of white peek through the gaps.

Her skin is pale, untouched by sunlight, and her hair is faded blonde.

Oddly, her feet are bare, blending with the ruined landscape, making her seem like a floating presence.

Hmm.

Pretty.

They say beauty has no standard—just personal tastes.

To someone, she might be “pretty but not that striking,” but to me, she’s my ideal.

Why?
Because I handcrafted that entire look.

The top and bottom are from a limited fall event outfit.
Mismatched shoes or weapons?
Hidden with a transparent costume.
Hairstyle, skin tone, eyes—I poured my heart into every detail.

In The Little Prince, they say adults can’t understand scenery with sentimental words.
So, for the adults, let’s rephrase.

—In the mirror, a girl worth hundreds of dollars stared back at me.

No.
That’s not right.

To be precise…

I was staring at myself.

“…”

This is insane.

The girl in the glass shard doesn’t speak.
Of course not—I’m not speaking.

When I look at the mirror, she looks back.
I raise my hand to wave, she waves.
I tilt my head, she tilts hers.

Cute.

If it wasn’t me, that is.

—Reality can be cruel sometimes.

Time to go.
I’ve accepted this isn’t a normal situation.

Dream, reality, or some hidden camera prank—I have to move forward.
I have to.
Yesterday taught me staying still solves nothing.

Winning the lottery requires buying a ticket first.

Do nothing, and nothing happens.

Yesterday proved that—rolling around all day, all I got was a wish to stay like that forever and the self-loathing realization I’m a lazy b*stard.

“Guess it’s goodbye to this place.”

Tap.
I kick a rock on the ground.
Just something to do.
A way to let go of the complaints lingering in my heart.

I stare at the space I’ve grown sick of.

Broken rebar and concrete.
Shattered stairs.
Twisted remnants of strange devices.
Leaving it all behind, I step out to face the world.

As always, naturally.