The sudden arrival of another person made the area filled with eerie stillness. All men stared at the black-haired man petrified.

They noticed that the pressure emanating from above came from this person all along. And it seemed since the beginning, he had been watching them.

After feeling this tremendous pressure more closely, even when there's no temporary truce, all of them lost any will to fight.

Even the seemingly God in the group chose to shrink. He knew that the person could kill a thousand of him.

No one dared to break the silence. They just waited for the man to continue and say something more.

He jumped down from the platform and walked slowly towards the crowd, taking short glances at every individual in the white hall.

This made Philip see his face and figure more clearly. Even though the man has been trying his best to maintain a likable and harmless front, he still cannot hide the ferociousness in his aura.

When their eyes met, Philip instinctively avoided. He bowed his head and held his hands tightly, keeping them from shaking.

Upon noticing this, the said person just smiled slightly and continued inspecting the crowd. When his eyes spotted a particular man holding a pocket watch, his facade was instantly broken.

"KYA KYA KYA!" The man laughed crazily, "Interesting! So interesting!"

While he was laughing at who knows what reason, the area shook and his aura became more suffocating, making the men fall and shudder in fear.

"Oh, where are my manners?" He then withdrew his aura and continued like nothing happened.

"Some of you must be confused by the current situation, right?" He asked while looking at some men with disheveled and dirty appearances like Philip.

He then exaggeratedly turned his body around, raised his arms, and smiled playfully, "Well, don't be 'cause I, Osuda, will explain everything for all of you!"

Osuda materialized a black top hat and a black cane to add more elegance to his formal black suit.

While rolling his cane, he continued, "You are summoned here to give you a chance to gain an identity! To escape from your repeating and unending life as a character!"

Under the shocked faces of some men, Osuda emphasized once more clearly, "All of you here are the main characters of books that have become famous all around the multiverse."

He paused, then cruelly disclosed the truth, "And yes, your life has always been a fiction, with a writer as the creator of your past, present, and future."

After saying that, everyone went silent. Some were frozen in bafflement, obviously having a hard time believing in his statement. Some bowed their heads in understanding, indicating they already knew the painful truth behind their transmigration.

"Impossible…" The man holding his decapitated head in his arms kneeled and murmured in denial. His life felt so real, he didn't expect it to be fake all along.

Osuda coughed and clarified, "Don't misunderstand. Obviously, your life and experiences were real. It's just that you're acting as a puppet of your author, forcing his ideas and projecting his imagination through you."

"It was your fate that was fake all along, not you, okay?" Osuda grinned while comforting the men, "The white ball should have explained it before your arrival, but it seems some were in a rush that they could not wait for it to explain."

Philip trembled. His life had ended badly. He was desperate and touched the white ball without hesitation. While he had some suspicion about how others seemed to know, he did not expect the ball could speak and personally explain the strange phenomenon.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Osuda pounded his cane to the ground and smirked friskily, "Well thanks to you, we can have a business in this field."

The men had no time to ask what he meant as Osuda quickly continued, "To summarize everything, all of you have to fight against each other in a simulated world. The winner would then be given a soul, which indicates an identity and freedom."

"If you have a soul, you can finally leave the world of fiction and live outside where everything is real."

Most of the men knew this already. That was why upon arrival, they were all strangely more vigilant against each other, as they were all each other's enemies.

They wanted to win. They wanted to escape.

When Philip heard this, he froze. He had no confidence in winning against these monsters.

Philip wasn't the only one who felt that way. In fact, a minority of them were apprehensive in this battle.

A man wearing flashy clothes raised his hand and asked anxiously, "Can I just go back to my world? I don't want to participate in this battle anymore."

At first, he felt dejected when the white ball explained that he was just a book character but looking back, his life had always been happy and fulfilling. Who cares if he was living in a book world? He would rather live a controlled life than participate in this deadly battle.

Osuda exclaimed, "Oh no! What do we have here?" He then covered his mouth and asked sarcastically, "Well, do you want to return to your mama's arm, young man?"

"Ye-ess!" the young man answered nervously. He sensed danger coming from Osuda's question but his fondness for going home clouded his judgment.

"Hmmm… I'm asking you one last time, young man," Osuda squinted his eyes and raised his lips spookily. "Do you really want to go back?"

"..."

Everyone was silent. They all collectively looked at the quivering young man.

Feeling the spine-chilling gazes, the young man finally woke up, "N-noo!" he instantly answered. He decided to retreat, suspecting that going back was and should never be an option.

Upon hearing his answer, Osuda roared amusingly, "KYA KYA KYA! As expected of a main character! Very quick-witted!"

"But how would we know the consequences of going back?" asked Osuda while caressing his nonexistent beard, "Does anyone want to volunteer, hmmm?"

No one answered him. They obviously don't want to become cannon fodders.

"Tsk," Osuda clicked his tongue. "Well, if you don't want to, Let me show you what will happen."

He waved his arm and numerous transparent screens appeared in the air.

"Look closely." Osuda pointed his cane to the first screen.

On it was a man saving a princess trapped in a tower by a horrendous witch.

Everything looks normal and sweet, however, if a person carefully examines the characters, he would soon notice that everyone seems to be dull and lifeless.

"Hmm, let's increase the volume a bit."

In a short while, the agony of the man reverberated around the area.

"Hah…Hah…" A breathless man cried, "Please make it stop. Please let me die."

"Let me go back! I'll participate! So please, let me go!"

"This is what would happen to a character who had regained consciousness." Osuda explained, "A character would have no way to control his life. He would remain a spectator watching his own body moving along with the script provided to him."

"This will happen and continue repeatedly every time the story is being read. There's no future and there's no past anymore. Only an unending cycle of suffering."

Osuda looked at the crowd and smiled, "What would you do if your life kept on repeating uncontrollably? For hundreds, thousands, or even millions, what would you feel if this kept on happening to you?"

The men trembled fearfully. Though some of them have a happy story, if it kept on repeating, it would be better to die!

"Well, why am I talking about this?" Osuda then swung his cane to the screens, "Because like these characters, you have also gained consciousness."

"No one really knows why this is happening. Even I was confused about how a book character gained consciousness. All I know is that you are entities that should have not existed!"

He then looked straight to the young man with flashy clothes, "You should be grateful you were summoned or else..." Osuda stopped, letting others imagine the aftermath.

The young man bowed his head. He knew he was lucky to be chosen. At least he was given a choice to die and have a chance to live.

He glanced back at the numerous screens and sighed. Thankfully he decided to stay.

Osuda fixed his hat and glanced at the crowd, "You were summoned here to give you a chance from not experiencing a life like theirs. And be given a choice whether you wanted to return and experience misery…."

Osuda then raised his arms gracefully, "Or get a soul and escape from the fate of being just a character of a story!"

Loud classical music reverberated as the white space transformed into a medieval round hall. The white plain pillars now had a different color and texture and colorful glasses enclosed the area, separating the hall from the whiteness outside.

Osuda walked back to the podium and declared to everyone, "Well then, Main Characters let me ask you again. Do you want to play a game?"

While Osuda continued explaining the mechanics of the game, Philip was in a daze. He had lost his ability to listen as his head was filled with a lot of unbelievable information.

Philip had always been unlucky in the past. It was like the world was against him, always being thrown into difficult and dangerous situations. He also had no family and friends as an anchor, all he had was his forced dedication to protect his country.

Then boom, someone disclosed the truth, his past and experiences, or even his personality, were all decided by his author. All in all, he was really just a soulless puppet with no real identity.

And then, he was given a chance to change his life. Of course, he was happy but it was short-lived. Having seen the power of his competitors, Philip felt dejected and negative.

Philip was helpless. He just remained standing, looking stupidly at the air, not bothering in listening to Osuda's instructions.

TOK. TOK. TOK.

Osuda stomped his cane on the ground thrice to catch the men's attention.

"Well, it seems that everyone finally understood the situation right now." Osuda beamed and continued, "So, I don't need to ask you anymore if you want to return or not…"

Osuda frankly stated, "Because you have no other choice to begin with." He stopped then added playfully,

"Unless you're a masochist."

With his right hand, he threw his hat high up in the air.

"Well then! I think you are all ready!" Osuda grinned excitedly, "Oh! And don't forget the magic word for your golden finger."

As he raised his cane with his left hand, the top hat midair immediately became as huge as a stadium.

"ENJOY DYING!"

When Osuda lowered his cane, the hat also fell and swallowed all the men in the room.

Later, the top hat returned to its original size, and all men vanished leaving with Osuda's last remark.