Hard Mode Idol

F-Finally, I beat it!

This should put me pretty high up. How many days has it been now? Even in a dazed state of mind, I diligently did what I had to do while trying to gauge the date. I edited the recorded files, added mechanical sounds, and uploaded the video. I posted the boss clear points and YourTube link on the bulletin board and refreshed to see comments already starting to appear.

As expected, I need to play popular games. Looking at the increasing view count, it seemed I could barely scrape by with this month’s income.

I’m so tired. Sleepy.

I haven’t eaten anything for days, but I wasn’t even hungry from lack of sleep. Once I wake up after sleeping, I’ll probably scarf down whatever I can find. I collapsed onto the bed as if passing out.

Falling asleep from the exhaustion that instantly snatched away my consciousness, when I opened my eyes again, I was in a small, unfamiliar room, on a strange bed. It was a worn-down semi-basement studio with barely any furniture, making it feel empty.

“Where am I?”

Words reflecting my bewilderment spilled out unintentionally. At the same time, someone’s reply could be heard. My head reflexively lifted towards the direction of the voice.

“Finally awake?”

A neat-looking young man was standing upright and looking down at me. It was a rude first greeting that felt abrupt, but that wasn’t important.

“I’m sorry. I also have no idea why I’m here, but it wasn’t by my own will…”

I observed the man’s expression. Seeing no particular change, I hurriedly continued.

“I’ll leave quickly. I’m sorry.”

Not only did I randomly enter someone else’s home, I even fell asleep sprawled out on their bed. How absurd must it be from the homeowner’s perspective? Rather than getting reported to the police and dragged away, I felt an urgency to apologize and leave quickly. I needed to express that I had no ill intent.

I’ll have to ponder this bizarre situation on my way home. Even if I think about it, I doubt I’ll find any answers, though.

Fortunately, the homeowner didn’t say anything else. Even if he raised a fist at me, I wouldn’t be able to utter a peep in this situation, so he seemed quite generous. Maybe it’s better that we’re strangers meeting for the first time. If we knew each other, I might have gotten punched.

Let’s get out of here quickly first.

I grabbed the door handle, but something was strange. Instead of the familiar sensation of metal sticking to my skin, my hand kept swiping at the air. More precisely, my hand passed through the handle. Like I had become a ghost.

“…?”

They say you can’t even scream if you’re too shocked, and that seems to be true. Only then did I realize my hand had turned semi-transparent. Not just my hand, but my whole body was semi-transparent. Seeing objects on the other side through my own body was a grotesque experience nauseating enough to make me retch.

At the same time, I recalled the man I had conversed with just moments ago. The person who spoke to me so normally, even in this state. As I turned my head, the man standing in a refined posture smiled at me.

“Shall we talk now?”

“Um… I’m not sure what’s going on in this situation.”

I instinctively realized this man was the key. Why I woke up in a strange place, why my body is in this state? The person who could provide answers to that was him.

Did I die? I thought I had merely fallen asleep after clearing a game. If not, is this a dream, perhaps? The sensations feel too realistic for a dream, but if it’s not a dream, then my body turning semi-transparent like this should be impossible.

“You’re digressing from the correct answer.”

“Pardon?”

At those abrupt words lacking context, I looked into the man’s eyes then realized the meaning behind what he said.

It’s an unrealistic thought, but that man seems to be able to read my mind. That’s why he said I’m “digressing from the correct answer.” Then one of my deductions must be close to the truth…

If “dream” is the digression, does that mean I died? But if it’s not a dream, isn’t this an impossible development?

“It’s not a dream either.”

“Then am I dead?”

“That’s right.”

I see. Unable to accept those unbelievable words, I blinked my eyes.

“How? I don’t think I did anything that would lead to my death.”

Did a fire break out at home while I was sleeping? Or did a robber break in and stab me?

But I rarely use gas. I usually just use the microwave to handle everything. A robber breaking in doesn’t make sense, either. First of all, I don’t go out, so all the doors are tightly locked.

Moreover, my home was an ordinary studio apartment. It was almost the same size as this place and not somewhere a robber would drool over.

“Karoshi (death from overwork).”

While I was deducing the cause of death, the man abruptly revealed the answer. Karoshi at the age of 27 when I’m still young and relatively healthy?

“Ha. Overwork? Me?”

The only work I did was gaming? As an obscure gaming YourTuber, I merely gamed diligently to make a living. Yet karoshi?

“This is what happened after you fell asleep.”

The man suddenly approached me. I reflexively pulled back, but his large hand reaching for my head was faster. Before I could even react, a vivid illusion played out in my mind as if a video was being played.

It was my room. Me lying on the bed. As if someone hit fast forward, the sunlight shining in through the window rapidly darkened and then brightened, repeating the cycle of darkening again.

As time passed like that, my body gradually…

“Ugh. I don’t want to see anymore!”

I turned my head while brushing off the hand resting on it. Seeing myself rotting away was extremely unpleasant. After suppressing the urge to vomit a few times, my head started throbbing with pain.

“Ow, I thought I was dead, so why does it hurt?”

“Your body is still alive.”

“But it’s transparent?”

“Temporarily.”

I don’t get it. I just gave up trying to understand and decided to accept it. The situation has already gone beyond the realm of comprehension.

“Then who are you?”

“My name is Deus. My position is god. You can call me Deus or god, whichever you prefer.”

“Are you really a god? Not a devil?”

The god named Deus quirked the corners of his mouth.

“Where in the world is there a devil?”

You said you’re a god though?

“It’s true that I’m a god, but devils don’t exist. They only exist in the delusions you guys create.”

“Then things like hell or heaven also don’t exist?”

“Nope. Why would I bother collecting souls? It’s just a hassle. It’s better to quickly reincarnate them. Do you know how many souls there are to manage?”

How should I put this… If I believed in god, this feels like the kind of remark that would lead to an immense sense of betrayal.

“Then why am I here? Will I also be reincarnated?”

Is this like a pre-reincarnation interview? Asking what I want to be in my next life, that sort of thing?

“No. You are a soul that has been worn down to the end. You’ve reached the tail end of the reincarnation cycle.”

“Worn down to the end… Your phrasing is too much.”

“Unloved by anyone, nothing worked out no matter what you did. It would be better to just ignore you, but you received incomprehensible ostracism and attacks.”

“……”

My heart ached because of this god poking at my painful memories. It’s not like I wanted to live a life where I struggled for money as a shut-in running an unprofitable YourTube channel either.

But people hated me. That’s why I once dreamed of being an idol. Those sparkling under the love of others looked truly dazzling. Being loved and returning that love. Having dear friends who cherished each other. I envied those relationships. I thought if I exposed myself to many people, there would be at least one person who accepted me.

Thinking back now, it may have been a type of madness. I made irrational and foolish choices after being driven to the extreme.

I passed the audition to become a trainee only to get eliminated twice. The third company I joined was a small startup where I barely debuted in a male idol group, but the time I spent intoxicated by my dreams was short-lived.

The group started the process of disbandment after 3 years, and I had to endure verbal abuse from the other members, saying it was my fault we failed.

The only ones who showed interest in me from the tiny fandom were malicious individual fans of other members and anti-fans. Extreme anti-fans at that.

Occasionally, I would receive a pretty fan letter, but inside were only words of hatred towards me. Sometimes, they would send photos of dead animals or cursed dolls. The small company delivered them to me without screening. Later on, I even wondered if they did it on purpose.

I had failed and was unable to live a normal life, so I started a gaming YourTube channel to make a living. The income I earned was modest, but I enjoyed gaming itself. A world where I could be rewarded for my efforts, NPCs who didn’t hate me for no reason. That alone was satisfying. I never imagined it would end in death from overwork though.

Come to think of it, I couldn’t clearly remember the last time I slept or ate recently. It was a bitter life where I accomplished nothing. Although I feel it’s a shame to end it like this, what can I do if I’m dead? I even saw what happened to my body.

I sincerely express my condolences to whoever discovers my lonely corpse. Maybe I won’t be found until I’m reduced to a skeleton, but the smell should make the neighbors report it.

As thoughts that were of no help whatsoever continued to sprout, the god interjected.

“Souls that can no longer enter reincarnation all find themselves in a situation similar to yours.”

“Why? Why do they hate me?”

It was the question I was most curious about while living, one no one ever answered.

“Because you’re a soul that will be extinguished. It’s only natural for living things to fear extinction. Humans are also beasts, so they have instincts. They bark because they’re scared. Consider it fair since the end of other souls is the same. Your soul has also enjoyed everything it could.”

In other words, I was simply born that way. That it was merely my turn. Deus shrugged his shoulders. Then, he spoke in an even tone.

“Well then, let’s end the explanation here. Shall I tell you about my business now?”

“Ah, yes.”

Honestly, I’m not interested. The reason for my lonely life is just absurd. I did nothing wrong. Even if you say it’s fair, that I enjoyed as much as I could, I have no memories of it, so it’s not mine, is it? What does it matter if you’re really a god or not?