Chereads / What Is A Realistic MMORPG Isekai?! | BL / Chapter 1 - MISSION: Journey to Emberstein

What Is A Realistic MMORPG Isekai?! | BL

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Synopsis

Chapter 1 - MISSION: Journey to Emberstein

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️

strong language

&

unreliable narration

&

unlikable mc

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— DING!

That's a loud notification from my phone.

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— DING!

I try to go back to sleep.

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— DING!

Damn it!

I'm wide awake.

Damn, how long have I been out? 

I look at the clock on my nightstand. 

Shit, it's 7AM?! Ugh, the hell?! Who would dare to wake me up at such an inhuman hour?! It makes me sick to my stomach! I slept at 2AM, a totally inane time, I could have been sleeping the morning away as usual! 

The hell am I supposed to do with myself now? Now I got a whole day to ponder my life. Do I game? No gamers are online at this ungodly hour, they either got jobs or schools to worry about. Whoever woke me, whoever dared, I'll unleash my wrath upon them! I swear it with my life—

User7294934

DUDE

WAKE TF UP

U KNOW WHAT DAY IT IS?!

Huh? What day is it?

I immediately sit up straight in my bed and hastily click on the calendar app on my phone. I begin scanning down the month of January 1st, and marked around it in red, if I remember correctly, I typed 'LAUNCH DAY XD' a year and a half ago.

Shit. OH SHIT! 

The concept of time totally slipped my mind! What can you expect from someone who has never seen the sunlight?! I thought today was Tuesday, the hell, it's Friday?! Some bullshit!

Oh bug off, I'm not responsible! Why would time concern me when nothing I do has a due date? It's been 3 years too late for that. I'm not like one of those punctual fuckers who have a reason to check their clock, alright? Hell, I don't think I ever even checked the news or what's going on outside, of course I wouldn't know it's launch day. A hundred percent not my fault.

Me:

Just woke up bro chill

User7294934: 

Srsly?!

Wtf do I expect from u

Well log on everyone's online

Me:

Huh

Everyone suddenly likes to be early and shit

Why tf did we set it at this time nobody told me last night

User7294934: 

Yeah yeah u're always right

Now hurry up, I managed to convince everyone to wait for me

This is why no one wants to message u

Me:

And yet they need me

User7294934: 

Shut tf up prick

Me: 

I'm on

I shuffle from the sheets to my three-screened PC set at the opposite side of the room. When I press the power button, I wear my headphones, then the LED lights start to flicker around my engine to my keyboard. My window wallpaper unveils, and I suddenly feel a flood of relief and pride running down my veins. Every time I see this wallpaper, I'm reminded of how purposeful and meaningful my life is, I don't feel alienated or chastised. I feel strangely comforted by the compound of achievements this sensation brings me.

Have a man ever been solely comforted by mere images before? That's why I set it as my wallpaper, and my lockscreen, this right here is my life, my purpose, my hope, my soul— who am I kidding, machines don't have souls. 

Still, I freaking love it. It doesn't hurt to frame your life's joy. I'm nothing but a simple man.

I click on the familiar icon on my taskbar. 

"Let's fucking go." I mutter when I see the huge golden brown button that screams: 'LAUNCH'.

I log onto Discord, into the chat room, and turn on my mic. 

"Morning, boys." I simply whisper, for I know the numerous reactions that will burst into my ears simply from my cool and curt word of voice.

Now, if I truly know my anonymous online friends who have participated with me for 3.5 years on this, is how they react to my snide. One of my greatest virtues is memorizing my opponent's moves, only to then use it to crush their ego later. So, as this conversation follows literally within a millisecond, I'm gonna name each of these guys by the movie Inside Out emotion characters, to simply label them, for my own amusement.

"This motherfucker." That's Disgust, followed by an impatiently low growls, he scoffed. He doesn't hate me, he looks down on me— or, he looks down on the way I live my life, because technologically, nobody can look down on me. He also finds my behavior diabolical, I don't see a reason to argue as, come on, are we talking real life here? This is the computer world! Who cares about personality anymore?!

"He's finally awake." Overlapped by a chuckling voice. Fear. Bro is petrified of me, see how he can't say anything rude? I've destroyed him so many times already. Whenever I'm online, he goes offline. What a pussy.

I don't care for him, he's neither ally nor foe. What harm can he do to me? To literally anyone?! He doesn't have the guts. He's the type of nerd the bullies pick on the most. Honestly, I only pray he's ballsy enough to one day look me in the eyes and say he despises my very existence. Only then will I consider him worthy to be anything.

"This piece of shit, get your ass back to sleep." A loud and pitched voice growls instantly after. This is Anger, my least favorite one. Ah, Anger. Everything I do seems to tick him off. I would think he's jealous of me, but seeing the way he rage quits, I think that's just the way he is. Bro's got a lot of anger issues to sort out, then.

Can't be let loose into society, he might trigger a major war with his hotheadedness. But I know he's someone who has the decency to take responsibility for his actions, so he would fight buoyantly and lose anyway. He was also the one who volunteered to message me, since he cares deeply for the project. Not as much as me, though.

"We waited for 12 minutes." Says a sighing voice.

"Can we get this over with?" Says another one. These two are Sadness. My favorite duo, always the pessimists of the group, always sounds like they're one step closer to giving up or ending their lives. They perform their duties rather delayed because they have severe mental issues or whatever. I remember one normal 2AM, these two were just blowing the chat with their feelings and how their lives suck and wah, wah, weh. Bunch of sissies, I tell you. 

I bet due to a single inconvenience (something as dumb as a heartbreak or whatever) could descend them into madness. They'll throw a tantrum, cause problems for everyone and themselves. The destructive and self-destructive kinds, I can tell, like a ticking-time-bomb. How can anyone talk to them without being sensitive? I know I can't.

Well, how about it? These are the exact reactions I receive every time I do something diabolical, but no one produces a sound when I do something godsend.

This whole schmuck just proves to the world that it doesn't take talents to be a genius, just be a nice guy everyone adores, and you'll be worshiped on a pedestal.

We're living in a world where we've evolved into phonies. If you're better than them, and happen to be unlikable, they'll do everything in their power to bring you down.

"Okay~ everyone ready?" A new lighthearted voice chime, which seems to totally shift the mood throughout this entire mind-nitpicking session currently transpiring. Things tend to come to a resolution as soon as his baritone, rather honeyed voice echoes among us.

"God, I'm fucking sick of you!" Anger says. To me.

"How long are we gonna let him do what he wants?" Disgust says.

"Haha, guess that's what happens when you're the lead developer." Fear says.

"He showed up now, didn't he? Don't be so cranky, this marks the day of our hard work finally meaning something! We've got a whole community waiting for us, now come on! Let's assemble! Right?" This is Joy. He is an artist. I wouldn't call him a nerd, as artists are usually of an entirely different breed of geek; they're fashionable, they have social circles, and they're pretentious snobs who spend their Daddy's credit card. 

All 6 of us find ourselves indifferent towards him— ah, no, that's just me. These guys love him so much they would suck his toes. But me? I don't particularly hate him, nor do I like him. He is pretty optimistic though, which gets pretty annoying, but I digress. If there comes a time when I have to save one person among all 5 of them, I would save him. Actually, that'd be a lie, 'cause I would save nobody— yeah, you get the metaphor. 

Joy used to report to us about his day whenever one of us ever bothered to ask, and oh boy, he sounds privileged and extroverted as hell, it's wild. I always feel like I missed out on life or I chose the wrong path, as if I regret my decisions, whenever Joy opens his obnoxious lips to speak. He's like 'I went to the museum with some friends' or 'I recently broke up with my girlfriend and now I'm sad' or 'I have to get ready for my date!' And that's just…never fun to hear as a Hikikomori. 

He probably celebrated The New Year yesterday, lolling about till midnight and witnessing the fireworks.

Like he goes out and stuff. Bet he keeps up with the news and feels bummed out whenever it storms outside, and feels jolly when the sun is beaming. Bet he doesn't let the twilight stop him, returning home late from friends, worrying his parents. Bet he exercises regularly and gives two shits about his body and health, so he can look forward to tomorrow…to life.

Ha! I just listed things children would do! You know, like when you're 10? These practices aren't real anymore, even adults can't commit to them!

I bet the only reason why he considers himself a nerd is because he geeked out over every little thing that is remotely artistic, and that's his whole personality. I remember programming a simple JavaScript code any 3D animators should know, or that time I programmed an interactive map and he was beyond ecstatic!

It feels a little great, I guess. Still obnoxious, though.

So, yeah. I'm indifferent towards him.

"I said right?!" Joy rallies us passive-aggressively.

"Right."

"Yeah, right."

"Sure, I'm ready."

Agrees everyone.

I gotta admit, he's one hell of a moderator. If real life were a game, bro probably maxed out on charisma. Such an amiable and thoughtful speech, he could lead a war.

See what I mean about how people choose charisma over skill? The video game world revolves around skill and skill alone, as no other player will persist with upgrades and battles but you. You either know you're your own team or you feel lonely and in need of a guild. Otherwise, why play at all?

"Alright, it's 7:56AM. Is everyone's mouse on the button?" Joy presses intensely. 

"Yes~"

"Yep."

"Yeah." I chant with the rest in tedium.

"Alright, when I press the launch button, everyone press play, got it?" Joy informs.

"Yeah, we pretty much covered it."

"That's the drill." They reply. 

"And if the play button doesn't load 2 seconds after I press launch—"

"We'll have Developer's ass handed to you, Artist." Anger says. "It's my life mission."

"Developer, can we trust you on this?" Joy asks. I can hear his skepticism. How insulting.

"Yeah," I rub my eyes from fatigue, yawning. Damn these bastards, how long have they known me? None of this wouldn't have existed if it weren't for me. I made the impossible possible. They should know by now that doubting me is underrated. "You can trust me on this," I reassured.

Yet, I find myself smirking. This is the reason why I decided to leave a little gift for them, to let them understand that I can say or do whatever I want and no one can stop me, so they better stop trying. It fucking irks me to my core every time people strive to stop me from being me. I would fight them to the bitter end to prove them I'm right.

Because I am right..

And no one's gonna look out for me in this cold dark world, I gotta know my worth.

"Okay! Here we are!" Upon his enthusiastic initiation, I can tell everyone's starting to sit up straight (if they even can seeing how we all have gaming posture), readying their trigger fingers to march. I remain coiled, because I couldn't care less. "On a count of five— one," he begins.

"Two," I glance over at the half-empty bottle of Mountain Dew on my desk, noticing the trail of ants roaming around the lip. 

"Three," I glance over at the mess of a nest I called my bed, wondering to myself how long ago it's been since I've last washed it.

"Four," Suddenly, underneath the threshold of my unopened door shines a warm light.

Ah, that means dad's awake.

I wonder if I ever tell dad about this three-year-long project he would be proud of me. I bet not. Still…if I gone to engineering school, if I had finished high school, if I had moved in with mom, if I had gone to that party, if I had said yes to that boy, would my life really be different?

Not that I hate it right now, but life's pretty uneventful, no lie. Society is just one huge practice of consistency and conformity.

Maybe if life's more fun, interesting, adventurous, liberating and wasn't a huge sempiternal system to be followed, or a brutalized concept invented by capitalistic assholes who want to keep us in order. Maybe if life wasn't—

No. I'm doing it again.

No, damn it, I can think all I want.

I can daydream and escape all I want.

But that will never fill this void in my heart.

Because life isn't a computer where you can program your way into triumph.

Life is reality. 

"Five."

I left-click my mouse. Everyone else's especially sturdy clicks reverberate through my headphones.

And all I can think about is: what a shame.

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[SO, YOU WISH TO BE THE REAL HERO OF EMBERSTEIN?]

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Huh? 

I don't remember this sound as our introduction.

Isn't it supposed to be: 'Welcome to Emberstein, our hero'?

I tried to reach for my headphones, to test if my device wasn't glitching or catching something else. But, I can't.

What? I can't— I CAN'T SEE!

I think I opened my eyes, I can feel my eyelashes batting against my cheeks, but I don't see anything!

Fuck, is it a blackout?!

Now?!

Why now?!

Not now, I WAS ON A MISSION!

︻╦̵̵̿╤━ ᯓ 𝕮𖤓𝖗𝖙𝖎𝖋𝖎𖤓𝖉 𝖑𝖔𝖘𖤓𝖗 ᯓ