In a dimly lit room plagued by the acrid scent of stale beverages and canned food, a young man sat on a cushion, his eyes glued to the LED flat screen mounted on the wall. His tangled mass of hazel-brown hair framed blue eyes, sunken and shadowed by dark circles—a testament to five days of relentless gaming. He was a game tester, a professional at that, but for the first time, he was unable to finish a game on time. The client was getting impatient, and so today, he had decided to go all out, forgoing even the smallest pleasure of sleep until he saw the words "The End."

In front of him stood a stool cluttered with a variety of snacks and drinks—soda, pre-brewed coffee, fried chips, honeyed buns, instant noodles. It was a chaotic display of sustenance that would likely give any average person indigestion or worse. But his dietary habits were the least of his concerns. His room had turned into a mess, but he paid it no mind.

"Come on, just fucking kiss her already," he cursed, his frustration boiling over as he encountered setback after setback. The endless replays had spiraled into a grueling monotony.

He couldn't remember the last time he had a proper rest in the past month, let alone a bath. He had missed several lectures, and most of his coursemates had called him out of concern. He brushed off their worries with promises of normalcy by the following week. "Damn it, I shouldn't have agreed," he muttered, massaging his temples as the words appeared on the screen: *[Affection -10]*.

This was a dating sim—the kind of game he once bragged about being "all too easy." But his current dilemma was understandable. This wasn't a typical romance dating sim filled with countless scenarios leading to a plethora of happy endings. No, this game was a complex blend of adventure, action, romance, and violence, with difficulty levels that bordered on the insane. It was a game yet to be released to the public, one that would undoubtedly cause a stir in the gaming community. He wasn't even sure it could be classified as a dating sim anymore, given the sheer amount of darkness and violence triggered by making the wrong choices or interacting incorrectly with the female heroines.

Frustrating gameplay aside, the game was a marvel, a fact he couldn't deny. The level of mechanics, the world-building, the character personalization—it felt almost... real.

[Ding!]

A chime rang through the room, pulling him from his thoughts. He grabbed his phone and found a message from his client. [Time is up.]

"What in the world?" He clicked his tongue in annoyance. Such cryptic messages had become the norm with this client. Even when he first received the game, the accompanying message simply read, [Finish it].

A cryptic and creepy client, that's what he thought. It was surprising, yes, the agreed-upon time had just ended, but it was still midnight. He'd thought he had until morning as a buffer. Did this mean he had to return the down payment?

"Hah, yeah, I'm done with this shit." With a sigh of resignation, he tossed the gamepad onto the stool and sank back into the cushion's soft embrace, contemplating returning the money. None of this was worth the stress it was causing him.

But an odd feeling gnawed at him—was it a sense of obligation or just his own stubborn pride? He couldn't tell. All he knew was that he had to finish what he started, or else...

With another sigh, he picked up the gamepad again, determined to see this through to the end.

[3:00 AM]

It was well past midnight, an ungodly hour to be gaming, but the young man was finally seeing some progress. After countless hours of maneuvering around triggers and making precise choices, he was finally approaching the ending he had been waiting for. But just as the final clip signifying the game's near end started to play, something strange happened.

The TV... it turned off on its own.

"What the... No, no, no, no, no! No!" He yanked at his hair, pacing the room in frustration. What happened? There was still electricity, so why?

After a moment, he approached the TV, pressing the [Power] button to no avail. He checked the sockets, unplugging and replugging the cables into different outlets, but still, nothing. The console was down, and so was the TV. The peculiarity of it all was unsettling. A sudden idea struck him. Retrieving a paper clip, he managed to painstakingly eject the DVD from the console. Just then, the power returned to the TV and console.

"You've got to be kidding me," he laughed dryly. He slipped the DVD back into the console.

*Tzz!*

Once again, the TV and console lost power.

"What the fuck is going on here?!" he yelled, only to be startled by a sudden *clank*.

He spun around to find a shadowy figure standing by the door. Strange, considering he was certain he had locked it.

"What are yo—oh, it's you," he began, his anger dissipating as the figure stepped into the light, revealing himself.

"What are you doing here at this time of night, Mr. Ben?" he asked, recognizing the building's janitor.

"What do you think?" was the man's cryptic response.

"Could it be my noise? Did the neighbors complain?" the young man asked, rubbing his forehead.

"No, Eren, no one did."

"What?" Eren blurted, looking at the man incredulously. "Then, why?"

"I'm sorry," was all Mr. Ben said as he set down the bucket he was carrying.

"What are you—" Eren tried to speak, but his words caught in his throat as Mr. Ben pulled out what appeared to be a gun.

"W-what are you planning to do with that?" Eren stammered, backing against the TV.

"The cycle must continue. The time has come. You must finish what you started," the janitor said, and before Eren could react—

"Huh?" Eren gasped, feeling a cold, sharp pain in his chest. He looked down to see a hole gaping through his torso.

"H-how? There was… n-no sound," he mumbled as he collapsed to the ground, pulling the TV down with him.

Bam.

His gaze shifted to the man standing over him. "Why?" Eren croaked, desperately trying to grasp the reason behind this cruelty.

"There.... Was no other way,"