Supporting Characters in the Game are Obsessed – Chapter 14

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Simzy
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Truth be told, magic in this world was practically a dead subject.

I didn’t introduce myself as a “magician” to the neighbors when I moved into this house.

The reason was clear.

In this era where magic was fading, calling oneself a magician sounded pathetic.

If you asked what it felt like, it was similar to introducing oneself as a graduate student.

The only difference being that graduate students had hope for the future, while magicians had none.

In a world where elves smoked cigarettes, orcs fired guns, and dwarves robbed vaults in tactical exosuits, the shattered perception of magicians was inevitable.

Actually, most of the magicians I’d seen in this world were like that.

They were better suited to be called “con artists” than magicians.

Therefore, it was only natural that I didn’t want to be a magician.

But I didn’t have many options.

My heart raced after just a few steps, and even a small scratch required a constant supply of antibiotics.

I wasn’t strong enough to tear apart concrete with my bare hands like some people, nor did I possess any special abilities or the intelligence for hacking.

The world screamed that the only path for me was magic.
(Actually, I was the one who chose this kind of character.)

I’d fired guns plenty of times, but I couldn’t use them as anything more than a secondary weapon.

Having served in the military, I wasn’t completely inept.

It’s just that everyone around me was world-class.

Catherine, Andrea… even Drek, whose main role was hacking, was far better with guns than I was.

In the end, the only option left was magic.

And there was another problem.

I knew I had a remarkable talent for magic from the character settings before entering the game, but there wasn’t a single person around to teach me.

Considering that I initially landed in a garbage dump in this world and that it took me several years to escape, the problem was serious.

While living in the dump, I thought and thought.

How could I learn magic?

Fortunately, the answer was right next to me.

I decided to visit my old teacher and logged into Netspace.

I wanted to send my regards.

『Real Magic in the Age of Machines Channel』
Subscribers: 15 · Videos: 128

…The sorrow of a non-professional in a professional field.

This video channel exemplified it.

To me, it was a precious channel that saved my life.

To the world, it was a garbage channel filled with useless information.

I left a comment expressing my gratitude and mentioning that I was putting what I learned to good use.

It had been several years since a new video was uploaded.

There was no response (likes, comments) from the channel creator, my teacher, to any of the comments I’d left so far.

I found that quite sad.

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As I mentioned before, my hobby is gaming.

I enjoyed virtual reality games quite a bit.

However, after Eve started consuming most of my data capacity, I haven’t played them much.

I ordered a high-capacity data module by delivery, but I didn’t know when it would arrive.
It seems the delivery truck was attacked by orc vagrants.

So, today as well, I logged into my classic game (by cyberpunk standards).

The game’s graphics resembled a certain game from my previous life where the Alliance and Horde fought.

As I logged in, the scenery of a quiet village appeared on the monitor.

Not only this village, but the entire game was quite peaceful.

There were no chat logs in the corner of the screen.

Only repetitive messages from frozen NPCs filled the screen.

It was only natural.

Who would play such a trash game?

Well, I played it out of nostalgia, like eating pineapple pizza.

The reason was more apparent when I visited the net site that hosted the game.

It hadn’t been updated in ages.

I didn’t understand why they were still running the game instead of shutting down the service.

I felt like the number of concurrent players had already dropped below two digits.

…But who cares?

As long as I enjoyed it.

I spammed the jump key.

My character, jumping in the air with low-quality animation, appeared on the monitor.

Ugh, this trashy control.

I thought I wouldn’t experience this in the cyberpunk world.

I was truly grateful for this game.

As I wandered around the village, I spotted an ID.

Since there were so few players around,

I was happy to see any moving user.

[ BunnyPrincess(Archer) ]

…I’ve seen that ID somewhere before.

Who was it?

“Ah.”

I exclaimed involuntarily.

I remembered.

That BunnyPrincess (bastard) who stole my hunting spot and PKed me.

I almost got angry.

But I decided to be magnanimous and forgive her.

It was difficult to play with enemies in a game with so few players.

The mere fact that she was still playing was enough for me to forgive her.

…….

Come to think of it, this person was something else too.

Was she a home security guard (mercenary) like me?

It was actually daytime on a weekday, a bit early to be playing games.

It was strange to see someone playing so diligently without any apparent reason.

A good idea came to mind.

I moved my toddling character.

My destination was BunnyPrincess’s character.

[ RealMageHere(Warrior): hi ]

I didn’t know if she remembered me.

Just in case, I sent a greeting first. If she remembered me and cursed (used inappropriate language), I planned to run away immediately.

BunnyPrincess’s character, which had appeared to be AFK, moved.

[ BunnyPrincess(Archer): why? ]

Good, not AFK.

And the response was decent enough.

She seemed to have no recollection of my character.

That was the nature of people who played this game.

They weren’t necessarily friendly, but they always responded to chat messages, regardless of the situation.

Maybe it was because new players were rare.

Anyway, I checked BunnyPrincess’s response and continued chatting.

[ RealMageHere(Warrior): Looks like we’re around the same level, wanna party? ]

I typed as politely as possible.

This was practically formal language in Netspace.

[ RealMageHere(Warrior): Warrior’s a shit class, hard to hunt, help pls ]

Finally, an appeal to pity.

I didn’t have high hopes since Archer was a noble class, but surprisingly, BunnyPrincess’s reply was quick.

[ BunnyPrincess(Archer): ok ]

[ RealMageHere(Warrior): Oh, thanks. ]

She didn’t refuse a War-trash (Warrior)?

This person seemed different from before.

Maybe she was a decent person after all.

What followed was quite cozy.

[ BunnyPrincess(Archer): Tank properly. ]

[ RealMageHere(Warrior): ok ]

How could a Warrior be weaker than an Archer?

I died once.

[ BunnyPrincess(Archer): Manage aggro better. ]

[ RealMageHere(Warrior): Yes. ]

Thankfully, there was a system to resurrect party members.

I died three more times after that.

[ BunnyPrincess(Archer): Just stay back. ]

[ RealMageHere(Warrior): Understood, sensei. ]

I realized something.

Warrior was definitely a trash class.

I should have just played a Magician here too.

By the time we finished hunting, it had unintentionally turned into a power-leveling session for me.

My pride as a Warrior was slightly wounded, but it was okay.

The experience gain, which was impossible to achieve as a Warrior on my own, was more important than my pride.

Still, I felt slightly apologetic for being carried so hard.

[ RealMageHere(Warrior): I’m gonna call it a day here lol; Time flies. ]

She probably wanted me to leave anyway.

But she probably couldn’t just let me go in case the newbie quit…

I’ll leave the party myself… I was busy creating my own exile scenario in my head, when

BunnyPrincess(nim) typed.

[ BunnyPrincess(Archer): Again next time. ]

[ RealMageHere(Warrior): Huh, you’ll party with me again? ]

[ BunnyPrincess(Archer): Add me. ]

I unconsciously typed in formal language.

A notification window popped up.

《 BunnyPrincess(Archer) has sent you a friend request. 》

This is real.

What, was she someone with deep masochistic tendencies?

[ RealMageHere(Warrior): I’m grateful, but are you really sure? ]

[ BunnyPrincess(Archer): Yeah, next time. ]

BunnyPrincess seemed to be logging off as well.

After that chat, her character disappeared, turning transparent.

The grayed-out ID remaining in the friend window confirmed that what just happened was real.

A true living saint.

Although our first impression was through PK,
it seemed she just enjoyed hunting.

Anyway, I was very happy.

I gained the experience that would have taken three days to earn as a War-trash in a single instant.

“Sweet.”

[I request that you create an account for me so I can play too.]

It was a tempting offer, but unfortunately, it was impossible.

Only one ID per account…

[Then I ask if I can hack the game to create an ID.]

…….

That wasn’t quite right either.

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“…….”

In a darkened room, a short woman was playing a game in front of a monitor.

A man entered, looked at the woman, and said,

“It’s time for the mission, what are you still doing?”

“…….”

“Ah, this game? You’re probably the only one who still plays this.”

“…There’s another.”

“There’s another what? The hunting isn’t even fun— Ow! Put the knife away!”

As the man continued speaking, a knife was suddenly drawn from the woman’s grasp and aimed at his throat.

A blue flame flickered along the blade’s edge.

Seeing this, the man quickly ran out of the room.

The woman, watching him flee, sighed deeply and turned her gaze back to the monitor.

In her arms, she held a small rabbit doll, almost as small as herself.

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