The only sounds in Haruto Saito’s cluttered apartment were the soft beeps and whirs of his gaming console, punctuated by the occasional crinkle of snack wrappers scattered across the floor. Dull sunlight filtered through the grimy windows, casting a muted glow over the mess of video game paraphernalia: wires snaking from the console to the television, half-empty energy drink cans, and crumpled ramen packets. He sat hunched over his controller, sweat beading on his brow as he conquered yet another dungeon.
“This boss is going down!” he shouted, his excitement echoing against the bare walls, which resonated with a sheen of unwashed paint and peeling posters of fantasy landscapes. Hours blurred into days; Haruto rarely ventured into the outside world anymore. A self-proclaimed NEET, he had sought solace in these vivid realms of fantasy, where he was a hero, a savior, someone worth being. He avoided thinking about how the real world had left him behind—how he felt like a shattered mirror reflecting pieces of his broken self.
But reality came crashing down on him one fateful evening.
Just as he was about to land the final blow on the boss creature, his console emitted a strange spark, the screen flickering ominously. “What the—”
Before he could react, a blinding light enveloped him. It felt like being torn apart at the seams, his essence unraveling and then stitching itself back together—reconstructed as if he were one of the characters from his games. Chaos danced behind his closed eyelids, a swirling mix of colors and sensations.
When the light faded, he found himself sprawled on soft grass beneath an impossibly vast azure sky, the air thick with the scent of wildflowers. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of towering trees that stood as guardians to this unfamiliar realm. Confusion gnawed at his mind, mixing with disconcerting anticipation.
“Where am I?” Haruto mumbled, his voice a whisper lost in the tranquility, eyes wide as they scanned the breathtaking landscape. Lavish colors painted a world that felt vibrant yet distant, almost surreal.
Then, suddenly, a heavy thud echoed behind him, a sound that shattered the calm. He turned, heart racing, to find a hulking creature—a goblin, with green skin mottled by something dark and filth-ridden. Its crooked grin revealed crooked teeth, and it swung a rusted club as if eager for blood. Haruto's stomach twisted, panic ensnaring his breath.
“Grrrrah!” it growled, charging at him with brutal intent.
Time slowed as instinct kicked in. “Wait! I don’t have any weapons!” Terror flooded his body, pulling him taut like a string on the brink of snapping.
Just as fear threatened to engulf him, a strange warmth blossomed within him, spreading through his veins as if igniting some long-dormant fire. Glancing down, he was astounded to see a shimmering light coalescing in his palm, transforming into a dagger that gleamed with an otherworldly luster.
“What the heck is happening?” he whispered in awe, wide-eyed, before the dagger inexplicably leapt from his grip, flying straight and true into the goblin’s side. The creature screeched in disbelief, its twisted expression freezing in shock as it collapsed to the ground, lifeless and still.
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A rush of emotions surged through Haruto—excitement intertwined with disbelief, a flicker of triumph battling against a shadow of horror. He had taken a life. The weight of that reality settled on his chest like a stone, but oddly, it didn’t crush him. An unspoken darkness had long nestled within him, a calloused heart built from years of isolation and the remnants of a painful past. The killing felt numbing rather than horrific, a reminder of battles won when he struggled so greatly in his own life. A broken veteran, seeking power in pixels rather than people.
“Congratulations, Dungeon Master. You’ve just taken your first life,” a melodious voice echoed around him, resonating like a haunting tune.
“Dungeon Master?” he echoed, the term stirring a confusion deep within. He glanced around frantically, searching for the source of the voice, his heartbeat thumping against his ribs.
From the shadows, a girl emerged—her armor glinting in the sunlight, as if woven from shards of light and mystery. She was strikingly beautiful, with long silver hair cascading like a waterfall down her back and piercing blue eyes that sparkled with curiosity. Her gaze held no malice, only intrigue.
“It seems you’re not like the others,” she remarked, tilting her head, an enigmatic smile playing on her lips. “What will you do now?”
“I… I don’t know.” Haruto’s voice trembled, diverse emotions rushing through him. There was confusion, apprehension, but also a strange thrill—hadn’t he always wished for this? Endless adventure? “But I guess I’m going to need some allies.”
The smirk broke into a full smile, one that revealed a warmth he hadn’t expected. “Then you’re in luck, Dungeon Master. I know just the right people.”
But even as she smiled, doubt coiled in his gut. He had just slain a creature, and yet here she was, gliding toward him as if he were nothing to fear. Her timing was too perfect, like a trap laid out to snare him into a web of deceptions. Could she be part of the force that summoned him? Shouldn’t he be wary?
“How do I know you’re not part of this?” he shot back, voice sharp with suspicion, heart pounding.
The girl’s expression shifted slightly, an undertone of understanding flickering across her features. “You’re right to be cautious. It’s wise. But trust me, staying here will not keep you safe.”
At that moment, darkness shrouded his thoughts—could it be true? Had he been yanked from his routine, pulled into this world for a purpose? No, the act of summoning people from their lives was malevolent, no matter how grand the adventure seemed. His instincts screamed for survival, for self-preservation.
“I can’t let this happen again,” he murmured, more to himself than to her, sudden resolution settling in. “I can’t allow anyone else to be yanked into—”
“Ripping people from where they belong is very much evil,” she interjected softly, her voice melodic and places of compassion weaving through it. “You’re right to think that way. But in this world, we need a Dungeon Master like you. Not everyone survives alone.”
Despite the warmth in her tone, Haruto couldn’t shake the feeling that he had stumbled upon something dangerous lurking beneath the surface. He couldn’t fully trust her motives, but an adventurer’s heart roared within him, urging him to leap forward into the unknown.
With a smile that felt foreign yet exhilarating, he took a step back, considering the implications. He was no longer just a player—he was the one calling the shots.
“Fine,” he said slowly, determination mixed with trepidation crawling through his veins. “But mark my words: I’ll find a way to end this summoning madness. No one else deserves to be dragged into a game they never agreed to play.”
With that promise etched in his mind, he prepared to dive into this perilous adventure, aware that the road ahead was fraught with uncertainty yet brimming with the promise of freedom and control—an opportunity to take back the narrative of his own life, whether in this fantastical world or the one he’d left behind.