Blood poured continuously from Ron’s chest.
Even with the suppression of the game system, the intense pain made him grit his teeth. He managed to force a comforting smile.
“Isis, a Hero isn’t supposed to cry, you know…”
It seemed as if the last of his strength was only enough to lift his arm. In the end, it was the girl herself who leaned in, pressing her soft cheek into Ron’s hand.
“Master! I’m sorry… If only I were stronger… you wouldn’t, wouldn’t…”
Tears and sobs blurred the voice of the young girl, Isis. Just moments ago, it was her own hands that had thrust the longsword into Ron’s heart.
She had killed her master, her ‘father,’ her… beloved with her own hands.
Ron’s fingers trembled. He wanted to lift his hand higher to wipe away Isis’s tears, but his arm fell weakly at the final moment before touching her.
“Master — !”
The Hero girl knelt in the pool of blood, tightly clutching Ron’s hands and pressing them to her chest.
“I… can’t go back anymore…”
Ron looked at his nearly empty health bar and left his final words. After casting an encouraging look at Isis, he closed his clouded eyes.
“No! Don’t do this!”
“You—you said you would be my master for a lifetime…”
“Isis doesn’t want to be a Hero anymore. Please get up, let’s go home!”
“Master… Master!!!”
**[Video content has been uploaded]**
“Sigh, if only the others were as easy to fool as Isis. I could get even more video material.”
Ron sat up from the bed. After closing the system menu, he walked to the window of the small log cabin.
“Huh? Did the realism level take another step up in this update?”
It was currently dusk. The setting sun wrapped everything outside the window in a warm, yellow filter.
A shepherd boy was driving a flock of sheep into the barn at the village entrance.
Villagers who had finished their labor sat on haystacks, talking and laughing—a picture of peace and tranquility in a medieval pastoral village.
“As expected of a virtual reality game that transcends the era — “
He leisurely admired the scenery outside. Even though Ron, as a gaming blogger, had experienced dozens of saves in the Utis Continent, he still couldn’t help but feel emotional.
‘It’s truly easy to get addicted to this.’
***
Turning around, Ron stepped across the squeaky pine floorboards and walked to the mirror in the corner of the cabin.
‘Before I knew it, fifteen years have passed in this save…’
The mirror reflected reality. Ron’s handsome face wore a faint smile. Under his messy brown hair, his black eyes were full of silent sentiment and melancholy.
Fifteen years ago in the game, Ron had descended into this Western fantasy game world—the Utis Continent—as a player.
In this game, every player with a new save could randomly or custom-create characters with different identities and professions to experience a rich and colorful life in another world in various ways.
As a video blogger who needed this game to make a living, Ron had long since looked down on traditional gameplay routes like becoming a Hero or a Demon King.
‘Boring. I want to see blood flow like a river.’
Ron had made a grand declaration to his fans. In his new save, he would choose a gameplay route that no one had ever attempted before.
He called it the galgame blackening playstyle.
Relying on his rich experience in the Utis Continent, he chose the Slave Trader class at the very beginning.
Using its mechanics and traits, he could use the ‘purchase slaves’ method in the early stages of the game to encounter and ‘enslave’ potential female characters who were still weak or in distress.
Then, relying on his even deeper experience with galgames, he proceeded to give them intense care and nurturing, raising their affection levels to the maximum as quickly as possible.
And then —
He used various regrets and tragedies to make them fall into painful blackening!
“Heh heh heh, in all the previous cycles, Isis’s title stopped at the Glory-rank Thorn Knight. This time, she actually reached the legendary Hero rank!”
Just like the recording he had just uploaded to the video site.
Ron had proven with his actions that the classical scientific theory that ‘blackening makes you ten times stronger’ was equally effective in the Utis Continent.
He had entered Isis’s world from the beginning of this save, buying the girl who carried the bloodline of a sinner from the slave market and giving her meticulous care and teaching.
After increasing their feelings through various events, Ron encouraged Isis and set out with her on an expedition to suppress the Demon King.
And the final battle at the end of that journey was the stage Ron had chosen for his exit.
When the Demon King was at death’s door, Ron resolutely chose to backstab Isis, stepping on her under her incredulous gaze.
“Haha, Isis, as my most useful tool and slave, you must be willing to let me absorb your power and the Demon King’s power to become the strongest, right?”
He loudly proclaimed his ambition, telling Isis that everything was a mirage of manipulation and lies.
He had never loved her; in his heart, she would always be a slave and a tool.
As expected.
The Hero girl collapsed, but because she had become a true Hero, Isis was destined to have the courage to face all difficulties, including destroying the Demon King and her ambitious beloved in her despair.
‘Dummy, I was actually cursed long ago… I didn’t want to turn into a mindless monster in front of your eyes.’
Ron clutched his chest now, rapturously repeating the lines he had carefully prepared back then.
‘A masterstroke. An absolute masterstroke.’
‘As the finale of this Blackening Nurturing series, I can already imagine how explosive the stats will be in a few days.’
Applauding himself for his past brilliant performance and script, Ron looked around this small log cabin where he had lived for many years in the game.
Fifteen years was the maximum playtime for a single save in the Utis Continent.
No matter what magnificent deeds a player had done, or what earth-shattering changes they had brought to this world, the game would end.
Ending with a silent countdown, every player would enter an ending animation unique to that save’s story. This was also the most important material for Ron’s video production.
And today in the game was actually Ron’s final moment in this save.
**[Countdown: 00:09:15]**
“Well then, let’s clean up as usual!”
Ron stretched, picked up the broom in the corner of the room, and tried a few movements.
‘Well—the realism has improved this time, but the physical feedback feels a bit strange.’
Cleaning his room before the end of every cycle was a farewell ritual and habit Ron had developed over a long time.
He didn’t pay much attention to these slight anomalies after the ‘update.’
He folded the bedding into sharp, blocky shapes and added water and fertilizer to the hibiscus flowers in front of the desk…
The cleaning process was crisp and smooth, until Ron began to organize the bookshelf. He suddenly froze in place as if a paralysis spell had been cast on him.
“This is…”
Stuffed among the dense history books was a walnut-shell magic photo frame. Inside was an unremarkable landscape photo of a grassy field.
‘Man! I wonder how they are doing now?’
Ron picked up the photo frame. The so-called landscape photo was just a default skin.
This was a magical item. As long as someone injected specific mana into the frame, it would display various stored photos according to the caster’s will.
“It was a birthday gift from Cecilia. That girl spent over a month in the workshop to make this thing…”
Feeling as if his relaxed and happy mood had been shattered by something in an instant, Ron muttered to himself as he injected mana into it.
*Click.*
The photo frame first made a sound like gears clicking open.
“Ta-da! This item was produced by the future greatest, greatest, greatest alchemist, Lady Cecilia!”
A somewhat youthful and cute declaration then rang out.
The landscape painting in the frame quickly began to blur and deform. Like a slideshow in the real world, a photo of Ron with a different girl appeared every few seconds.
They were either laughing heartily or pretending to be mature with stern little faces. The common thread was their close dependence on the Ron in the photos.
And…
The slave mark on their necks or arms.
“At least you are stronger than ever now. You won’t be bullied or cry at the drop of a hat anymore…”
The photos played for a full ten minutes. It wasn’t until Ron saw the final selfie of Cecilia making a peace sign that he realized the slideshow had finished.
At this moment, he was overwhelmed with a myriad of emotions.
“Wait…”
Ron’s thoughts, which had been somewhat repentant for his actions a moment ago, came to a halt. He realized a terrifying problem.
‘Where’s my countdown?’
‘The forum panel is gone too…’
Ron began to try various operations that usually responded to his will in the game, but everything was like a stone sinking into the ocean, without any response.
Character panel—gone.
Spatial inventory—also gone.
Ron raised his hands blankly. Everything related to the original game system no longer existed.
Even the ending animation that was supposed to be forced hadn’t started. He was still in this small village on the Utis Continent.
“Hey! Don’t joke around like this… This save has already been played to ruin…”
Ron began to sweat. After trying every game system-related operation, he found that the only function he could open was the mailbox.
**[To Dear Mr. Ron:]**
**[The fake game has ended. Welcome to the real Utis Continent.]**
There was no signature. After reading this letter, the heart Ron had held in suspense finally died.
‘It’s not a prank… I’ve really transmigrated.’
Ron clenched his fists and began testing his body with a blank expression. Indeed, the feedback of various senses had no suppression whatsoever. This was a joke the game company would never dare to play.
“Heh… heh.”
A dry laugh sounded as if it were squeezed out of jammed vocal cords. After a series of unwilling attempts, Ron collapsed onto the bed.
His mind was a mess. Even though his reason urged him to quickly go into the village to check the situation, Ron just wanted some peace and quiet.
*Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!*
It seemed fate didn’t even want to give Ron this small amount of quiet time. The door was suddenly struck by urgent knocking.
“Master Ron, open the door!”
“I know you’re in there!”
The girl’s voice that followed was clearly suppressed with anger and grievance.