[Translator â Peptobismol]
Chapter 14: Classic Game Enthusiasts (1)
Magic in this world is essentially a declining discipline.
When I moved into this house, I didnât introduce myself as a âmageâ to the neighbors.
The reason was clear.
Claiming to be a mage in an era where magic is gradually disappearing seemed quite pitiful.
If you ask what it feels like, it was very similar to introducing oneself as a graduate student.
The only difference is that graduate students have hope for the future, whereas mages have no hope, just a mere existence.
In a world where elves smoke cigarettes, orcs shoot guns, and dwarves wear tactical exosuits to rob gold vaults, itâs inevitable that the perception of mages has been shattered.
In fact, most of the mages Iâve seen in this world tended to be like that.
Rather than calling them mages, it was more fitting to call them âfrauds.â
Therefore,
It was quite natural that I didnât want to be a mage.
But I didnât have many choices.
Even a few steps would make my heart race wildly, and if I got even a single injury, Iâd have to take antibiotics.
I wasnât as physically strong as to tear concrete with my bare hands, nor did I have any special abilities or intelligence to excel in hacking.
The world shouted at me that there was only the path of a mage for me.
(Actually, it was a character I chose for some reason.)
I did try shooting guns a lot,
But I couldnât handle anything beyond a sidearm.
I wasnât completely useless, having some experience in shooting as a military man.
Itâs just that the people around me were mostly world-class shooters like Catherine or Andrea⦠even *Drake, whose main position was hacking, was much better at shooting than me.
[*Derck will be changed to Drake]
In the end, the only option left for me was to be a mage.
But there was another problem.
Though I could know from the character setup before entering the game that I had exceptional magical talent,
I had not a single person around me who could teach me magic.
When I first landed in this world, I was even in a garbage dump.
And considering it took me several years to get out of there, the problem was quite serious.
During my time in the dump, I pondered and pondered.
How could I learn magic?
Luckily, the answer was right nearby.
I thought of it and logged into Net Space to find my longtime mentor.
I plan to say hello.
ãReal Mage Channel in the Machine Ageã
15 subscribers · 128 videos
â¦The sadness of a profession without expertise is evident.
You can see it just by looking at this video channel.
To me, it was a precious channel that saved my life.
But to the people of the world, it was just a trash channel that provided unnecessary information.
I left a greeting comment about how well I was learning and using what I had learned.
Itâs already been several years since no new video was uploaded.
And there hadnât been any response (likes, comments) from the channel creator, my mentor, to the comments I left.
I felt quite sad about that fact.
* * *
As Iâve mentioned before, my hobby is gaming.
I used to enjoy virtual reality games quite a bit.
But since Eve took up most of my data capacity, I havenât had much chance to play for a long time.
I did order a high-spec data module through delivery, but I donât know when it will arrive.
Itâs like the delivery truck was attacked by orc bandits on its way here.
So today, as usual, I logged into the classic game I used to play (based on cyberpunk standards).
The gameâs graphics were similar to those of a game where the *Alliance and the Horde fought in my past life.
[*World of Warcraft reference.]
As I logged into the game, the quiet scenery of a village appeared on the monitor.
In fact, not just this village, but the whole game seemed quiet.
Even looking at the corners of the screen, there were no chat logs coming up.
Just frozen NPCs sending out repetitive messages filled the screen.
Well, it was obvious.
Who would enjoy playing such a trash game?
Even for me, itâs like eating pineapple pizza out of nostalgia for my hometown.
Looking at the gameâs website made the reasons even clearer.
First of all, itâs been a long time since the updates stopped.
I donât know why they havenât shut down the service yet and are still operating the game servers.
In my opinion, the number of players has probably dropped to double digits by now.
â¦But so what?
As long as I enjoy it.
I kept tapping the jump key unnecessarily.
My character, with low-quality motion, jumped into the air on the screen.
Ugh, this trashy control.
I never felt this way in the cyberpunk world.
Iâm really grateful that they made a game like this.
As I wandered around the village, I spotted one username.
Considering there werenât many people wandering around, seeing a moving user was quite refreshing.
[ RabbitArcher (Archer) ]
â¦Where have I seen this username before?
Who was it?
âAh.â
Without realizing it, I exclaimed aloud.
It came to me.
That guy who snatched my hunting spot and PKâd me, RabbitArcher (Punk).
I was momentarily angry.
But then I decided to forgive him with an open heart.
Itâs hard to play when you make enemies in a game where there are only a few players.
Just the fact that heâs still playing the game without quitting was enough for me to forgive him.
â¦
By the way, this person isnât a noble either.
I wonder if theyâre also a private security guard (mercenary) like me.
Actually, now that I think about it, itâs still a bit early on a weekday afternoon to be playing games.
Itâs not like I have any special circumstances like me.
Itâs quite fascinating to see someone enjoying games so diligently.
I had a good idea.
I moved my character briskly. The destination is the direction where the RabbitArcher is.
[Translator â Peptobismol]
[ImARealMage (Warrior): Hi]
Iâm not sure if they remember me or not.
First of all, as a precaution, I sent a greeting chat just in case. If RabbitArcher remembers me and starts swearing (using inappropriate language), Iâm planning to run away immediately.
The character of RabbitArcher, who seemed to be lurking silently, moved.
[RabbitArcher (Archer): What?]
Alright, not exactly lurking.
But this response was good enough.
It seemed like he didnât remember my character.
Thatâs the nature of people who play this game.
Regardless of kindness, if someone starts chatting, they always respond no matter the situation.
Maybe because newbies are precious to the game.
Anyway, I checked RabbitArcherâs response and continued chatting.
[ImARealMage (Warrior): Looks like weâre in similar level ranges. Want to party up?]
I tried to chat as politely as possible.
For your information, this level of politeness is considered polite on Net Space.
[ImARealMage (Warrior): Itâs hard to hunt as a Warrior dummy class. Help, please.]
Lastly, I aimed to evoke sympathy.
I didnât have high expectations since being an archer is a noble profession, but RabbitArcherâs response was surprisingly quick.
[RabbitArcher (Archer): Sure]
[ImARealMage (Warrior): Oh, thank you.]
He didnât reject me (Warrior) as a party member?
This guy definitely seems different from before.
Maybe he was an alright guy after all.
After that, it was very cozy.
[RabbitArcher (Archer): Tank well.]
[ImARealMage (Warrior): Yes.]
How can a warrior be weaker than an archer?
I died once.
[RabbitArcher (Archer): Manage aggro well.]
[ImARealMage (Warrior): Yes.]
Fortunately, there was a system to revive party members.
After that, I died three more times.
[RabbitArcher (Archer): Just stay behind.]
[ImARealMage (Warrior): Understood, sir.]
I realized.
The fact is, being a warrior is a trashy class.
Maybe I shouldâve just been a mage here too.
Eventually, when the time came to finish hunting,
Even though it wasnât intentional, I looked like Iâd been beaten up.
My warriorâs pride was slightly torn, but itâs okay.
Experience gain speed as a warrior was more important than my pride as a warrior.
But feeling slightly sorry for being beaten up unilaterally.
[ImARealMage (Warrior): Iâll stop here for today. Itâs getting late.]
Maybe he wants to send me away too.
But you couldnât easily let a newbie go, could youâ¦?
Iâll leave the party myselfâ¦.
While I was dealing with the expulsion alone.
RabbitArcher (Archer) typed a chat message.
[RabbitArcher (Archer): Next time.]
[ImARealMage (Warrior): Wow, youâll party with me again next time?]
[RabbitArcher (Archer): Add me as a friend.]
I unintentionally chatted with real politeness.
An alert window appeared following the chat.
ã RabbitArcher (Archer) has requested to add you as a friend. ã
This is real.
Whatâs this, deeply ingrained M tendencies?
[ImARealMage (Warrior): Iâm grateful, but are you really okay with this?]
[RabbitArcher (Archer): Yes, see you next time.]
Did RabbitArcher plan to end the game too?
After that chat, the character disappeared transparently.
The gray ID left in the friend window reminded me that what just happened was real.
There are no living adults around.
Even though our first meeting was through PK, looking into it, it seemed like he was just someone who enjoyed hunting.
Anyway, I felt really good.
Because I gained three daysâ worth of experience points as a warrior in just one session.
âSweet as honey.â
[I request an ID if you could create one, I would like to play together as well.]
It was a heartwarming story, but unfortunately, it was tough.
I could only create one ID per accountâ¦
[Then is it okay to hack the game to create an ID? I ask.]
â¦.
That was a bit much too.
* * *
The room was dark.
A small woman sat in front of the monitor, playing a game.
Finally, a man opened the door and came in, looking at the woman.
âItâs time to go on the mission, what are you still doing?â
ââ¦.â
âOh, this game again? Youâre probably the only one who really plays it.â
ââ¦Thereâs.â
âThereâs what? Thereâs no one else whoâ Ah. Can you put the knife away?â
As the man continued speaking, he became scared,
Suddenly, a knife was pulled out of the womanâs arms and pointed at the manâs throat.
A blue flame flickered along the edge of the knife.
The man who saw this quickly ran out of the room.
As she watched the man run away, the woman sighed heavily and returned her gaze to the monitor.
In her arms was a rabbit doll as small as herself.
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[Translator â Peptobismol]