episode_0001

There’s a saying that sincerity matters more than price when it comes to gifts.

Today, I plan to give a gift to someone who doesn’t know my sincerity.

I open Paint, grip the mouse, zoom in on the canvas, bite my lip, and pour my heart into every mouse movement…

“Phew…”

Done.

I gazed at the white drawing on the black canvas, a satisfied smile on my face.

My masterpiece, drawn in a lengthy three minutes. To some, it might be a crude sketch, but to me, it was more than a child – that’s what sincerity means.

“Let’s see, oh! It’s up?”

A monologue echoing in the empty house. Anyone seeing it would call it creepy, but I’ve long grown used to it.

Being quiet in a house where no one is home is even scarier, you know?

A notification arrived on my internet browser: the novel I enjoyed, Chronicles of Outer Gods, had been uploaded.

It was a minor novel with no announcements, erratic upload times, and not even a cover, but for the past year, Chronicles of Outer Gods had long since become life itself to me.

“Alright, I’ll enjoy this.”

The content was nothing special.

The story of an adventurer surviving in a dark fantasy world overrun by all sorts of horrific beings.

Creatures, monsters, outer gods, transcendent beings. Ordinary humans appeared too, but mostly wielding scythes or farming tools, oppressing adventurers.

The novel itself was an anthology, with jumbled timelines within the work. Not only that, the narrator would arbitrarily switch perspectives, and the writing style was uneven, as if written by different authors… but I thought that was precisely its charm.

However, Chronicles of Outer Gods, despite seeming full of advantages, had a fatal flaw.

That was the lack of illustrations!

With “chronicles” in its title and the tag “records,” it was clear Chronicles of Outer Gods was genuinely serious about its descriptions.

In one chapter exceeding 3,000 characters, it would describe the appearance and ecology of a newly discovered creature, or for five chapters, the text would be plastered with phrases like “get me out save me scared kill me save me I must end this record no more peeking disappear from this world monster” because the character had gone mad.

But I actually liked that aspect.

It’s like a cult novel, isn’t it good?

Yet, despite the interesting content, there wasn’t a single illustration. The author would babble on about something taller than several buildings, or slimy liquid melting bones~ but human imagination has its limits.

Give me illustrations, illustrations!

So, a year ago, I came up with a brilliant idea.

If there were no illustrations, couldn’t I just draw them myself?

Of course, that was a joke. I’d only drawn in kindergarten; how could I suddenly be good at drawing as an adult?

I just drew fan art.

The outer god said to have swallowed a kingdom, I drew as a cosmic-looking octopus, which I’d coincidentally seen in a documentary that day.

And the spider that sucked the bones dry from all of Mr. Phillips’ fellow mercenaries, the protagonist of the mid-chronicle, then connected them with threads to torment him, I even drew in a deformed shape: a huge ball with spindly legs sticking out.

If I were the author, I’d probably be shedding tears of gratitude.

Sending fan art for every single chapter—where else in the world would you find a reader like this? Even if I were on TV being interviewed, I’d understand.

Of course, I didn’t do it expecting anything in return. Although I poured my heart into drawings worse than a child’s… honestly, it was all just done with clicks of the mouse.

At first, I only intended to draw a few and stop, but since the author didn’t reply, and I found it fun to draw, before I knew it, I had drawn and sent him hundreds of fan art pieces.

“Hmm, hmm, that was fun…”

I speed-read the latest chapter, uploaded just a minute ago, and opened Paint. I should send it along with the fan art for the previous installment.

The content of the latest chapter was nothing special.

The protagonist of this episode, exploring while trapped in infinitely repeating time, spoke of hating the god who inflicted such trials as he withered away~ “To survive~” and so on… it was full of internal monologue.

I moistened my drying lips with my tongue and controlled the mouse.

The outer god’s appearance, which completely despaired the withering adventurer at the end of the latest chapter, was the subject of this fan art.

Hmm, an indescribable horror, an existence beyond measure, swimming through stopped time.

Reading the description, I racked my brain, then got lazy and just drew a wobbly slime, adding button-like eyes and a wide, smiling mouth for cuteness.

After I finished drawing, it looked exactly like a monster from a certain Japanese intellectual property that transforms into its opponent’s appearance, but just in case, I painted it blue with the fill tool.

That one is purple and this one is blue, so it’s an homage.

I saved the completed fan art as “999th Fan Art” and sent it as a private message to the author, attaching it along with the 998th one I had drawn previously.

“Phew, satisfying, isn’t it?”

Just one more drawing, and it’ll be a thousand, a full thousand.

Sometimes, when I got inspired, I’d draw three or four more in a day, but facing the number thousand, I felt proud of myself.

But despite all this sincerity, he didn’t acknowledge it, didn’t organize it in a public notice, and didn’t even write an afterword.

What a mean person.

-Ding!

“Huh?”

Just then, a notification arrived from the novel site where Chronicles of Outer Gods was being serialized.

The notification was none other than a reply.

Howard, the author serializing Chronicles of Outer Gods, had sent a reply just one second after I sent my message.

They say sincerity can reach the heavens; my devotion had finally paid off!

How grateful must he be to reply in just one second? I chuckled and clicked the message, then nearly lost consciousness from the flood of text… but barely managed to hold on.

No, he should have written it to a reasonable length, considering the recipient.

My vision blurred at the message’s content, which seemed roughly equivalent to ten novel chapters.

Still, since he sent it, it’s my duty to read it, right? My mindset was different from Howard’s, who had ignored my messages until now.

But I couldn’t make sense of the reply at all…

To summarize roughly, it debated historical accuracy, mentioned paradoxes, and contained countless unmentionable things directed at me: rudeness, punishment, insult, divine retribution, death, curse, family… Is this guy for real?

Is he trying to pick a fight?

Facing several repeated sections, I grew a bit bored and mercilessly scrolled down with the mouse wheel.

It’s long, so long. The subject matter is good, but this is the problem.

…To be honest, this is why I tend to skim novels too.

-Click, click, click, click.

Just as my finger began to ache, the mouse cursor stopped with a thud.

There must be at least one compliment, right?

I rubbed my eyes, feeling like they might pop out, and read the last page.

But my compliment was nowhere to be found, no matter how hard I looked. So why did he send a reply?

The answer appeared in the last line.

[Go on, face it yourself.]

With those words, I was dragged into the dark fantasy world that Howard chronicled.

“That’s my story so far.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up.”

“Oh, come on, don’t spit… wasn’t it interesting?”

The old man in front of me just sputtered foam from his mouth, convulsing, and didn’t answer my question.

He told me to tell him an interesting story because we were fellow slaves, and now he’s rolling his eyes back and acting like this.

If you weren’t going to listen, you shouldn’t have asked.

I swung my arms, bound by wooden handcuffs, and looked around.

Two hours had passed since I was dragged here by the author’s curse, and I had been reduced to a slave walking behind a slave transport wagon.

At first, I thought it couldn’t be, but I decided to believe it. Nowhere on modern Earth do such giant crows fly around, nor do people just randomly grab a perfectly fine person and call them a slave, so this must certainly be a dark fantasy world.

“Mister, what’s for dinner today?”

“…Please, just shut your mouth, damn it, shut up, shut up, shut up…”

I spoke to the bearded man next to the foaming man, but he also snapped at me to shut up, like a broken phonograph. Seriously, why does everyone tell me to shut up whenever I try to talk?

“Aren’t you hungry? This is the first time I’ve walked this much today. It’s kinda funny, though. They said we were valuable goods when they caught us, but then they ride in the wagon while we walk behind… Who manages goods like this?”

“…”

“Isn’t that right? You think so too, don’t you, Mister?”

“SHUT YOUR MOUTH!!!”

Waaak! The bearded man lunged to bite me with a maw wide open like an alligator, but I easily dodged him with nimble footwork.

Unlike the scrawny bearded man, I’d had chicken before drawing the fan art, so my stomach was full.

“Ah, I’m hungry. Asking for a story just made me hungrier. Mis-ters, I’m hungry.”

“Damn it, Adolph! Shove some bread in that bastard’s maw!”

“Oh.”

As I complained about the sudden onset of hunger, a group of masked figures dismounted from the wagon, cursing, and approached me.

-Thwack!

Hard, moldy-smelling bread filled my mouth.

When I licked the end of the bread with my tongue, a disgusting taste came up, but… I had to eat something.

“Mph, mph, mph…”

“Damn it, let’s just leave him and run.”

“Making him shut his trap with a single loaf of bread is a cheap way out.”

“Are the wheels available?”

“Yeah, just be careful not to make those bastards convulse, and soon we’ll—”

-CRASH, CRASH, CRASH!

“GRAAAH!!!”

“WHOOOOOA!!!”

“Help me help me help me help me help me no no no no!”

“Huh?”

Gulp.

The restraints binding my body were connected to several chains.

Rusty iron chains connecting me to dozens of men walking abreast in front of me. This meant that if the men convulsed, I’d be caught up in it too.

-Thump, thump, thump…

The men who had been convulsing and screaming all sorts of abominable noises suddenly collapsed. Wondering what happened, I looked at the masked figures who had put the restraints on my neck, and they too were lying on the ground, convulsing.

“Misters, are you okay?”

Prod, prod, prod.

I poked them with my bare foot, kicked them with my foot, and put my sole on their cold bodies, shaking them, but no one got up.

Did they faint?

Just in case, I lowered myself and put my ear to them, but every single one of the collapsed men was breathing.

…Do people here have a habit of convulsing?

If they fainted, they’d wake up soon.

Bored, I enjoyed the feel of the dirt under my bare feet, then thump, my toe hit a twig. I squatted down and picked it up.

It’s been a long time since I drew with my hands…

-Scratch, scratch, scratch…

“Oh, ohh.”

It had truly been a long time since I’d drawn with my hands instead of a mouse, but I smiled contentedly, looking at my artwork sprawled across the vast ground.

Title: The Last Supper.

Etched into the ground was a cute drawing of the bearded man, the foaming man, and myself, sharing a single loaf of bread, with whom I had been chatting just moments before.

Actually, I’d eaten it all myself, but I wished we could have shared it.

It was enough to express it through a drawing.

Just as I was about to erase the drawing with my foot, feeling satisfied, a sweet voice stopped me.

“Isn’t it a waste to erase it?”

“Huh?”

The woman who stopped me was dressed quite unusually, gazing at me.

An ink-black silk dress, and a black wide-brimmed hat with a black veil attached.

The mysterious beauty in her unusual attire quietly looked at me.

How did I know she was a beauty? Her voice was good, and her figure was good, too.

Her ample figure, highlighted by the thin silk dress clinging to her entire body, and her pristine white hands in mesh gloves were all evidence that the woman before me was a beauty.

A white hand extended. As if to press my face, the hand came close, then click—it effortlessly released the restraint around my neck.

“Thank you, it was quite uncomfortable.”

“Huhu, don’t mention it.”

“While you’re at it… could I ask you to release these two gentlemen here?”

“Hmm?”

“We’re friends, you see.”

I pointed to the foaming man and the bearded man, pressing for kindness, but the beautiful woman in front of me firmly shook her head.

“Oh dear, I don’t bestow kindness on just anyone. I only released you as a reward for showing me such a wonderful drawing, so please refrain from excessive requests.”

“Is that so…”

Well, in that case, there’s nothing I can do.

I stood still and gazed at the woman before me.

Her clothes were luxurious, her voice was refined, her figure was elegant. She probably only ate luxurious food too.

“…”

As I watched her silently, the woman in front of me tilted her head. Why was she doing that?

“Is something wrong?”

“You are… free?”

“Yes, I know.”

I’ve been a free spirit since birth.

“That means you’re welcome to run away.”

“…Why…?”

“…”

“Since you’ve already released me, to be honest, I have nowhere to go.”

“Huhu…”

The woman covered her mouth, seemingly amused by my words. It was obvious to anyone that she was in a good mood. I decided to seize this opportunity.

“How about you extend your kindness a little further?”

“Oh dear, it’s awkward when you suddenly try to rely on me… May I ask why you’re relying on me?”

Why am I relying on her?

You released me, you appeared before me…

Ah, right.

“You’re the first one who’s ever complimented my drawing.”

My drawing skills, which usually drew ridicule when I posted them online. But the woman in front of me offered genuine praise. I could trust someone this kind.

The author ignored me, people ridiculed me, and I even got cursed and dropped into a place like this all because of my fan art.

It’s really upsetting.

“To ridicule such magnificent drawing skills, they must be people with no aesthetic sense.”

“Exactly.”

“Hahahaha, fortunately, there’s a city nearby where I reside. Since things have turned out this way, I’ll extend my kindness further.”

“Your heart is truly beautiful.”

“However, I would like to entrust you with a small task… would that be alright?”

“I’m exceptionally good at work, you see.”

“My friends seem like they’ll really, really like you. I’ll even prepare a suitable gift for you.”

“Oh!”

Day 1 since being dropped into the dark fantasy world.

Howard’s curse, ironically, seemed to have led me to a patron who would protect me.