novelraw Chapter 218
Chapter 218
Chapter 218
My opinion?
Ha! I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly.
After doing whatever you pleased all this time, you’re suddenly asking for my opinion now? Are you kidding me? Do you even remember who almost lost his life because of you?
But I barely managed to suppress the rage bubbling up from my gut. If this man really was the “Author” who created this world, then getting angry wouldn’t do me any good.
I took a moment to organize my thoughts calmly.
Then I slowly opened my mouth.
“What do you mean by my opinion?”
“It’s natural that you’d be confused since I appeared so suddenly. But I thought it would be inconsiderate to just leave you alone, especially since you’ve been playing the role of the ‘protagonist.’”
The Author awkwardly scratched the back of his head.
“Now that I think about it, it’s rather rude of me to start off with my own questions. Instead of satisfying my curiosity, I should probably answer what you’ve been wondering about first.”
“Can I ask anything?”
“As long as it’s something I can answer.”
“What are you exactly?”
“……”
At my question, the Author seemed momentarily at a loss for words.
“You’re very straightforward.”
“I don’t like dragging things out.”
“My work tends to drag quite a bit, though.”
“That’s because it was fun.”
Even when the story didn’t progress much, there are some works that remain enjoyable just by watching the characters interact. Cyber-Module’s Necromancer was one of those kinds of stories.
“If it weren’t, I wouldn’t have bothered participating in that annoying Quiz Event.”
I answered honestly.
The Author’s gaze wavered slightly, as if embarrassed. I hadn’t meant to, but it felt like I’d scored a small point.
Still, it was a bit surprising to see such a human reaction from someone I’d thought of as a transcendent being.
“Ahem. Thank you for the compliment. Anyway... I think I understand what you’re asking. You’re wondering why and how people were dragged into my work, right?”
“Roughly, yes.”
“To answer that... contrary to what you might think, I’m not some grand being. I was just an ordinary person. I made a living off the royalties from my web novel. As you know, it didn’t sell that well—barely enough to keep myself fed.”
What on earth was he talking about?
“Let me say it again—I was a normal human being. Was. I didn’t intentionally pull you readers into my world out of malice.”
“……”
“You look like you don’t believe me. But it’s the truth. Just as you came here and became a very special person named ‘Aaron Stingray,’ I also happened to create a new world based on my novel, purely by accident. I didn’t even intend to create a world.”
The Author scratched his head again, looking troubled.
“I was simply attached to my work. I like cyberpunk, and I like academy settings. The story had a unique worldbuilding, so it shone briefly at the start and then faded away, but even after finishing it, I didn’t want it to end. So... I decided to make a game.”
“A game, you say?”
“Yes. A board game based on Cyber-Module’s Necromancer. I contacted a board game company and asked them to create one that multiple people could play together.”
“Don’t tell me…”
In an instant, the information in my head connected, forming a single picture—the announcement about the reader Quiz Event held to celebrate the series’ completion, and the promise of a special gift...
“Yes. You’re right. The original prize I planned to give away was the board game itself. And I was also planning an event where the winning readers could gather and play it together in person.”
“Ha…”
It was absurd—almost laughably so—but the conclusion was clear.
“You got caught up in it too, didn’t you, Author?”
“Yes.”
He nodded calmly.
“This isn’t the situation I had in mind. I never intended for any of you to die or to go through those dangerous events. Quite the opposite, actually.”
“What do you mean by the opposite…?”
“I’ve been doing everything I can to help you readers escape from this world. No—put that way, it sounds like I’m doing it out of goodwill. To be honest, I just want to escape this role myself.”
“You have to finish all the episodes, don’t you?”
“You understand perfectly.”
At those words, I couldn’t help but sigh. Meanwhile, the Author continued to explain.
“My role is the GM—the Game Master. I manage the players and assign each of them new individual episodes at appropriate times.”
“So you’re not a god, but a GM.”
That was an important distinction.
If he were a god, he could control the entire world, even determine what would happen in the future.
But as a board game GM, it was different. He was merely a manager—someone who couldn’t change the rules of the game itself. The one who created the rules was the developer.
When I voiced that thought, the Author’s eyes widened once more. His voice rose slightly.
“I knew it! I knew you’d see through it! You really are different from the other players!”
“……”
“A-ah, sorry. I got a bit carried away.”
Phew—he took a deep breath, calming himself before continuing.
“As you guessed, all I do is place ‘cards’ for each player in their respective positions on the table—what will happen next, what items they’ll obtain, and so on. But giving additional rewards or anything beyond that is impossible because of the ‘rules.’”
“You mean balance adjustment?”
“Yes, exactly. To earn better rewards, you have to clear episodes of higher difficulty. Or rather, that’s simply how the character you chose—‘Aaron Stingray’—is designed.”
Aaron Stingray was a munchkin.
A character set as S-rank in every aspect, but one who had to start out carrying the hard-mode demerit of a “Terminal Illness.”
“This game is divided into main episodes and sub-episodes. The main episodes revolve around the Academy’s protagonist characters, while the sub-episodes are the unique incidents experienced by each character. As I mentioned, according to the ‘rules,’ Aaron Stingray can only be assigned sub-episodes of hard difficulty.”
“Does the same apply to the Hunting Ground rewards?”
“Yes. The higher the rank, the worse the drop rate is set to be. The fact that you still managed to obtain several items means you’ve been quite lucky.”
“Ha.”
So that was what he called luck.
A bitter laugh slipped out before I realized it.
“And originally, the Hunting Ground rewards were supposed to be given randomly, but I used my authority to make sure the players received the items they needed most.”
In short, he was saying he had been doing his best behind the scenes to help the players.
It did sound a little like an excuse, but there was some logic to it. If his goal had been to torment the players, he wouldn’t have shown up in front of me to explain all this.
“I understand what you’re saying.”
In other words, the “Author” wasn’t an enemy.
Rather, just like the “Transmigrators,” he was an ordinary person who had been caught up in this incident and was trying his best to help us.
“I’m glad you understand the situation. Do you have any other questions?”
“If you were able to meet me like this, why didn’t you come earlier to ask for cooperation? If you had, everything would’ve gone much more smoothly.”
“Ah, that overlaps with one of my own questions. Since you dislike people beating around the bush, I’ll be direct…”
His expression darkened slightly.
“The game is slowly breaking down.”
“...Breaking down?”
“Ah... perhaps that’s not the right expression. I should say it’s losing its ‘game-like properties.’ It’s gradually ceasing to function as a board game and beginning to act as an entirely new world.”
“Explain in detail.”
“Well, up until now, I was able to place episodes according to the ‘rules.’ But now, one year since the game began, too many incidents are occurring beyond my control—especially those surrounding ‘Aaron Stingray.’”
“Have you identified the cause?”
“I’m not certain. But I do have a theory. It’s abstract, but... you could say, ‘the world has begun to gain will.’”
The world was beginning to come alive—
To gain will.
“Originally, players were meant to experience only the episodes written on the ‘Episode Cards’ I placed. But it seems the world decided that such a system broke ‘coherence.’ It began changing and adding rules on its own, moving in ways I never foresaw.”
“……”
“The same goes for the settings of ‘Mana’ and ‘Source Power.’ You know my work never mentioned ‘Source Power.’”
“That’s right.”
“That was something the world itself judged necessary. It’s trying to fill the holes I left in my writing, or the contradictions I created while chasing fun, by inserting new ‘settings.’ And as a result, players are now facing trials I never intended.”
“The Honeycomb City incident was one of those?”
“Yes. That was part of my unfinished background lore. But the world took it and turned it into an episode on its own. In short, this world—born from my work—has begun to live and move independently.”
The Author took a sharp breath, sounding slightly excited.
“The fortunate thing is that with the addition of the ‘Source Power’ setting, I can now contact you like this. ‘Source Power’ is said to be connected to the ‘Creator.’ And right now, as both the GM and the Author, I am the Creator of this world.”
“So you deliberately arranged the ‘Dwarf Village’ episode to meet me.”
“Yes. And to further explain the new setting I’ve come to understand—‘Source Power’ is the power of creation, the foundation of all Mana, Mystics, and living beings. However, just as Nietzsche said, ‘God is dead,’ after the mythic era, humanity broke away from beasts and gods alike and began constructing their own independent world.”
“So it’s a world separated from its Author.”
“Exactly. And ‘Anti-Rain’ is a substance that erases Mana and the properties of [Mystics]. You could say it’s something humanity created to distance themselves from the divine as much as possible. Because of that, in New Valhalla City, I can’t contact players like this.”
I tilted my head slightly.
“That sounds contradictory.”
“Yes, it doesn’t add up. In a place where the ‘rain that erases gods’ falls, the ‘Creator’—me—is still granting trials and rewards to players through ‘Special Privileges.’ That’s the issue.”
The Author emphasized again.
“The world will try once more to remove that contradiction. It’s possible that soon players won’t be able to use ‘Special Privileges’ at all. No one knows how this gap will be filled. And more importantly…”
“You’ll no longer be able to control the episodes, will you?”
“Yes.”
As the world gained will,
the GM’s authority was gradually fading.
“It’s slipping out of the administrator’s control and moving on its own. So even if you resent me later, I won’t be able to help you.”
“...You’ve been worried about it.”
For a moment, I felt guilty.
That meant he’d heard all the times I’d cursed him.
“You may not realize it, but Authors read every single comment. Even if we don’t reply because we’re afraid of causing trouble, we still read them—get hurt, and sometimes feel happy because of them.”
“I’m sorry…”
“It’s fine. You were dragged into this world without knowing anything; it’s only natural. In fact, you’re the one who came closest to deducing my identity and role correctly, without any solid evidence. That’s impressive. That’s why I chose you.”
“Chose?”
“Yes. You might find this sudden, but I’ve made up my mind…”
After a short pause, the Author spoke again.
“I’ve decided to make you the protagonist of this world.”