Free Life ~Record of the Struggle of a Different World General Merchant~

Gate of return to the original world. months after the disappearance of the dungeon where the core orb rested.

I was living a life that I didn't quite know if I was alive or dead.

In a room with shut windows and rain doors, I arranged memorabilia with Ren and Yusuke on my desk, days like a plant just to stare at it... I hadn't eaten a lot of rice, and I can't even remember when I drank water. The only thing rolling in the kitchen is a shabby bread and a liquor bottle.

"You're gonna die like this!?" And the succubus sister who had taken care of me until a while ago... Was it Mr. Yvetta? Well, no. The guy scolded me... but I'm not gonna die that easy.

Physical function, enhanced to the extreme by the level of canst, keeps my life alive to the point of criticality. I will die already, even if it is one of the apples, I will have ten days. Something about keeping your body optimal... I've read about that setting on the @ wiki Worldview page. That's why I'm still alive.

Sometimes I wanted to die. That's not once or twice, either. The feeling hits me regularly, like a wave. When I look into a knife sheath in a dark room that stays flat on my hips, I stick it up my neck, scratch my wrist... that image comes to my mind.

If you die, you may be able to return to your original world. 'Cause it's like a game, huh? If I die, maybe we can go back to our original world... to our free-life home. That's it, in an instant, like a game.

It's not a house in the corner of a fortified city. Ten or so tatami rooms built into private virtual spaces are where we belong.

Not here. A house like this! A house like this, where I'm the only one, is not our place!

So furious, I pull out the knife... in the end, I always put it back in my sheath.

"Maybe those guys will pick you up". Because I was in hopes that couldn't possibly be... until then, if I don't die, I'm gonna squat and cry.

Neither have I, from the beginning. When I came back to the city that day, I looked around to see if I had any other means of return. Especially, "M.C's Diary"... if you read that one again, you might get some clue. That's what I thought, I went to the library...

But I don't. Nowhere, there was no such thing as an "M.C. diary". On the contrary, that day, even the clerk who brought us the "diary of M.C." was gone. Communicating the name and appearance traits to the other scribes, in the first place, it was affirmed that such scribes did not exist.

Plus, the orbs I've been desperately collecting... and the ten orbs I need to return to, were all gone clean and refreshed from my item section. As if there wasn't anything like that originally.

In my confused mind, the words of the earlier scribe "does not exist" come back to life over and over again. What? Orb? "Diary of M.C."? The clerk we met that day? A dungeon for your return?

Or... means to go home?

If I tried reaching out in time, the answer that should have been there would not have existed. On the contrary, a series of mysterious disappearances, as if to deny previous actions as well... my heart broke again here.

Then. It was when I started pulling into a three-story house that we all bought. This is the only place where you could expose us without falsehood. I could casually talk about the original world, our only space. I spent days and days immersed in the memories packed there.

I tried to go find another way back to the original world, but when I got away from here, I felt like I was going to disappear and disappear to this house, and I was so scared I couldn't get out of town. And the range of activities narrowed down gradually… only when, except for occasional shopping, I stopped going out of the house.

People worried about me like that. Actually, I live in the neighborhood, like Mr. Yvetta, who just went out and reunited. With neighbors and adventurer acquaintances? But, guys, they all left.

... No, you're not. I got rid of it. The more you care, the more annoying it gets... One day, I just barely walked into our house, called out to the people who were doing the cleaning and whatnot, and threw them out.

I felt really bad for myself already. I couldn't help but feel sorry for myself, who was always grumbling, who couldn't stand alone to be satisfied, who was just annoying people... who were scattered around the kind people, none of this.

That day, after kicking out the people who were coming to the house, I solidified myself into a bee with a security, soundproofing device, and in the house where one of the outside noises stopped coming through, I, one, stuck up and cried.

But that's all...... I can't believe it's refreshing to cry, and from there on, another apathetic day goes on.

Someday, I'm sure, those guys will come. I used those illusions as a base for my heart, and I was living a day that didn't open my heart to anyone.

How long would such a life have lasted? When I realized it, the summer was over and the fall was midway through. It was a chilly season, not even a summer shirt that I barely dressed. Otherwise, I'm sure I never noticed the passage of time.

So I was looking for a cursory change of clothes... I also took a bath because my eyes got in my eyes or my eyes were strangely squishy. So I put on some slightly bumpy fall clothes... I got that far and finally realized I was hungry.

I'm not sure how many days I hadn't eaten... but I remembered there wasn't a lot of stuff in the kitchen. 'Cause you didn't self-cater after you were alone. It's hard to make without someone... most importantly, it's vain. That's why I was always eating what I bought in the street properly.

Even that day, I left the house to buy something in the street. The sun set and I think it was a slightly windy day. I walked on such a night in the city with my unrestrained legs.

I also ate what I ate and bought a few days worth of preserved food. The old men in the stall looked annoying to me like an abandoned man talking to me... but I can't possibly order as well as I did before now.

Communication skills, on the other hand, get better, get worse. One day, there will be a day when I won't be able to speak properly... and I thought that the future could be possible.

"Hmm...? Here, where...?

While I was walking flunky, I seemed to have strayed off the lower street street and strayed into the back street. Besides, it's not very safe...... I'm sitting around thin and thin, but the guys with all the glaring eyes were watching me screw.

I remember hearing that a store that does human trafficking occupies the corner of the lower district. Probably right here. The smell of inferior sexuality smells like clouding the colored city air... if I were in a place like this, I wouldn't have figured out what would happen.

I don't want any trouble. Let's get out of here.

When I thought so and tried to turn my heel back... it sounded like it.

"This... this, scumbag!

Someone's anger and the dull, dull noise of Dossssssss. I'm pretty used to rough things, too. I didn't have to look at the scene to understand that that was the sound of waving violence.

I'm just a little curious... why aren't you screaming when you're making sounds that sound so far and waving violence? It doesn't matter if you're patient or something... normally, people raise their voices if they're beaten hard. Even in this world, where power is determined at the level, it remains the same.

You don't have to go through the pain. It's just a willingness to harm people that leaks human screams... but I was just a little interested in what kind of guy is being beaten up. It's rare for those days, my heart moved.

So I proceeded to the back of the alley and took a gentle peek at the scene...

There stood a girly girl with thin, watery hair... as if she had a mysterious beauty like a fairy.

"Ah..."

Unexpectedly, I drop the luggage in my hand with a sledge. In the sound, a little fat man standing in front of the girl looked back at the edge of his sight. Still, my eyes only stare at the girl... she nails me.

Because it's beautiful? No... no.

I just couldn't help but wonder why the vain girl's eyes, who doesn't know if she's alive or dead, have the same eyes as mine.