Chapter 1 : A Coinless Existence
This wretched world.
Even today, as I trudged along the road to work, I found myself muttering curses beneath my breath.
To spit out such venomous words beneath the radiant morning sun—a sun shimmering with warmth and hope—felt as natural, as effortless, as breathing itself.
After all, I was nothing but a beggar… a pauper stripped of even a single coin.
“Wow… truly, there’s nothing left for me.”
Seated at the reception desk of the inn where I worked, I released a sigh so deep it seemed to drain my very soul.
The small pouch that ought to have been heavy with the weight of my day’s wages rattled hollowly, yielding nothing but dust no matter how fiercely I shook it.
And of course, there was an unmistakable reason for this.
Because I was being robbed—completely and mercilessly—by someone whose very face I had never even seen.
To explain how I found myself shackled to such misery, one must return ten years into the past… to a time before I awakened in this wretched realm.
There once existed a game—a virtual odyssey—known as Fantasy World. In it, the naïve young hero embarked on his journey: gathering companions, growing stronger, vanquishing evildoers, and saving the world again and again.
I was among its most ardent devotees. The moment a new update to the main storyline was released, I was always the first to log in. I partook in every event without fail, immersing myself wholly in that digital life.
Days and nights blurred into one another as I played without rest.
I poured myself into training my character, honing her strength until she could mow down monsters with ease, tearing through dungeons and raids.
To hasten my main character’s growth, I even created a secondary one—a sub-character—whose sole purpose was to support her. I linked their settings so that every resource, every treasure the sub-character gathered, would be transferred to the main one. It made the game infinitely easier.
Yes. And therein lay the problem.
Never—not in my wildest imagination—did I think I would awaken in the body of that wretched sub-character.
Because of that, every midnight without fail, everything I owned was siphoned away, stolen clean, and transferred to the main character. From the moment I was a child in this vessel, until this very day, I had been bled dry.
To salvage something—anything—from this cruel fate, I sought refuge in an inn that offered food, a bed, and daily wages.
But of what use was that? Whatever little I earned was gone by the next day, consumed by the relentless cycle of having to replace bare necessities—clothes to wear, shoes to walk in—just to face the morrow.
And thus, each day began anew… with an utterly empty coin pouch.
I had once sought a way to return to my original world. Yet after ten years of futility, I no longer cared to try.
Perhaps I abandoned the attempt after the seventh year.
As if to mock me, there seemed to have been some error in this “incarnation.” I could no longer recall the name, nor even the gender, of the main character I served.
The only thing the system ever revealed to me… was their general location.
Ding—!
Current location of the Main Character:
Ovolin, Capital of the Fedus Empire.
To dwell for ten long years in Ovolin—the most exorbitantly priced city in the entire Empire…
While I could not even afford the fare of the carriage that would take me there.
…Truly, what a filthy, despicable world.
I slammed the system window shut with a bitter sigh. Just then, Anna—the mistress of the inn—emerged from the kitchen, clicking her tongue in disapproval as her eyes immediately found my pathetic coin pouch.
“Rika, did you squander your wages again? Please, for heaven’s sake, learn to save a little. How will you survive in this world if you keep wasting money like this?”
“No, it’s not like that…”
“Not like that? Do you think I don’t see how your pouch is always filled with nothing but dust? What’s the point of working extra hours and giving up your rest days if you burn through your earnings the moment you touch them? Be more frugal, Rika. I say this only because I care for you as though you were my own daughter.”
…Unjust.
Utterly, maddeningly unjust!
All I could do was clutch my silver hair in despair.
Few in this world knew the truth—that it was governed by the mechanics of Fantasy World. I had no idea why I alone was aware of this, but the system had revealed it to me.
According to its records, besides myself, only three others knew this secret. All of them were mere NPCs… and one of them had already vanished from existence altogether.
Which meant, even if I confessed the truth to Anna, she would see me as nothing more than a lunatic.
“Enough. Forget it.”
I abandoned all attempts at justification and let my head slump onto the reception desk, too drained of both strength and coin to explain myself further.
Anna, still shaking her head at my sorry state, suddenly snapped her fingers as though remembering something.
“By the way, Rika, did you hear the news?”
“What news? Don’t tell me someone’s handing out free coins?”
“Oh, you silly child. Always thinking of money at your age… No, I meant what the temple priest proclaimed yesterday.”
“Ah… something about that.”
I replied dully, feigning the faintest interest.
I had heard whispers of it in passing. Apparently, the priest had made some dramatic declaration that shook the temple.
But to me, it meant nothing. The temple’s decrees were hollow—mere patch notes in the game of Fantasy World.
As always, I expected it to be something trivial: the discovery of a new continent, a perilous zone, or perhaps the opening of a dungeon designed to torment the unprepared.
That was how it had always been.
“But this time, it’s said that anyone who hasn’t received the temple’s oracle will vanish in a year. Specifically, those who’ve gone more than five years without one.”
Ah. In other words, accounts left inactive for over four years were about to be purged. For such an old game, it was only natural the developers would eventually clean out the data.
Hardly a surprise.
And yet, as the words sank in, I felt a chill spread across my skin. My fists clenched so tightly my knuckles whitened.
“It doesn’t seem many fall into that category, so people aren’t too concerned… but still, it feels cruel, doesn’t it? To erase them so heartlessly. They must already be suffering, waiting endlessly for an oracle that never came…”
“Innkeeper.”
“Hm?”
“I… I resign!”
Yes. It was not shocking at all—except for one horrifying truth.
The decree applied to me.
Had I known it would come to this, I never would have neglected the sub-character’s management, no matter how busy life became.
Damn it all.
From the moment I awakened in this cursed world, I had clung to one simple dream—one desire buried deep in the heart of every soul.
To sit upon a throne built of gold!
Or more modestly put: to live a quiet, comfortable life in a home bearing my name, free from interference, pondering in leisure how best to squander my endless riches.
Though I was robbed at every midnight by some faceless thief, I still believed my dream remained within reach.
Why not? Who knew when the developers might update the system for sub-characters? Should that happen, surely this world would shift accordingly.
Just as no one here knew when a new continent would suddenly surface in the western seas, or when a rare item would become worthless overnight due to an influx from the developers.
And so, I lived each day in resignation—working merely to survive, surviving only to work—believing I still had time.
Never did I dream that I would be shackled by a countdown to annihilation.
Thus, I resigned on the spot and left the inn behind. With nothing to my name but the clothes on my back, there was nothing to pack, nothing to carry.
I immediately sought out a long-distance carriage.
Fortunately, I had enough coin. For when I told Anna that I wished to “spend my final year wandering freely, since the temple’s decree was about me,” she broke down weeping and granted me a generous severance.
Why such haste to find a carriage?
Because before I perished, I had to lay eyes upon the main character—the thief who had stolen everything from me.
I had long since lost count of how much wealth had been siphoned away from me into their pockets.
I had sacrificed rest days, worked myself to exhaustion, only to be denied even the dignity of keeping my own clothes and shoes.
I had been stripped bare again and again, until one night, in desperation, I slipped a letter in with the stolen coins—an address, and a plea that they return even a fragment of what they had taken.
No one came. No reply ever reached me.
It was then I realized the bitter truth: I had been deluding myself with false hope, imagining some innocent mistake on their part.
No. That scoundrel must have reveled in my suffering, luxuriated in the fruits of my labor. For they were the main character—a being who surely lived in comfort and prosperity while I withered away.
I will not die under such injustice.
Even should death claim me, at the very least, I must strike their smug face once. No—once would not suffice. I must strike them ten times over.
“I will scour every corner of Ovolin until I find you.”
Fueled by a fury that burned like fire in my veins, I climbed aboard the carriage bound for Ovolin.
The journey would be long, but since it was still morning, I would likely arrive by nightfall.
Upon reaching the city, I would rent a room before midnight struck, spend every last coin to secure a long stay, and begin searching every district, every alley, every house.
Clothes? Irrelevant. I would think of such trivialities later.
Was there no easier way to flush the main character out?
Perhaps I could prepare something… troublesome, to be transferred at midnight. A giant boulder filling the room, perhaps, or foul animal waste reeking beyond endurance.
Surely such a spectacle would draw attention, perhaps even force the thief into the open.
“Not a bad idea.”
The thought of that despicable leech being buried in filth brought the faintest glimmer of satisfaction to my heart.
No one could live forever under injustice.
I had been powerless to step foot in Ovolin all these years. But had I known my time would be cut short, I would have borrowed coin long ago to pursue this vendetta.
I would slap him. And that slap would be one he would never forget.
