20 – Disqualified GM
I am a Disqualified GM.
As a disqualified GM, I had been “stripped” of the privilege to walk on two legs. Even walking on all fours was too luxurious for me. So, I diligently crawled using my back and abdominal muscles.
No, it was because of my crawling that Lord Dust was wiped away…
Perhaps it would be better for me to become a stone and live an eternity like that. For one who has broken a taboo deserves such punishment!
A passing master of the tower, seeing me turned to stone, asked with concern.
“Why are you acting like this…? Didn’t it end well? Is it because the fireworks event we prepared all night got skipped?”
That was indeed a pity. According to the plan, as soon as the “Beer and Song” operation commenced, the fireworks hidden throughout the city were supposed to start exploding. The festive atmosphere would peak, and the lively songs planted by our undercover agents would spread subtly throughout.
Alas, there was a hitch with the fireworks on the church steeple—they failed to detonate! Erid and Centra use their grappling guns once more, heading toward the steeple against the backdrop of a firework-illuminated night sky.
Perched in the steeple’s belfry, the two sit snugly together, setting off their final farewell fireworks display. The sky bursts with vibrant, colorful explosions, and the booming noise drowns out their voices. Centra says something to Erid.
Because the fireworks drown out his voice, Erid is puzzled. What could Centra possibly be saying? Since Erid cannot hear, Centra decides to show rather than tell. With a deep kiss amidst the finale of the fireworks!
That was Ending Plan A.
“Ah, or is it… because you couldn’t land the last line of Ronia?”
That was quite unfortunate too. According to the plan, the Second Prince was to withstand a few more attacks before suffering the backlash of the doping drug. Ronia collapses, coughing up blood, and with a desperate and angry voice asks,
“Erid, don’t you resent the dogs of the United Alliance?! You, too, were tormented just for having blond hair, for the mere fact that imperial blood runs through your veins! You want revenge, don’t you, want to kill them all-!!”
“I had to give up revenge because of that woman, Centra?! I staked my life on vengeance, and just because my father was the former leader, I was supposed to obey those damn orders about peace and songs-!!”
If that dramatic stage was set, the Second Prince could have delivered any killer line — just like that! Prepared with a brain freeze contingency, I even had a slow-motion timer on standby in case he needed time to remember his lines.
He could have delivered a line encapsulating his goals and identity, anything. “Because I love Centra,” could have been a cliché yet perfect line, or even something like “You’ve angered me!” If only he had, I would have blasted an electric guitar track in the background.
It’s not to say that I would have only revealed this if the Second Prince had successfully parried twice!
Even if he’d feigned parrying, he would have blocked Ronia’s attack. The player is meant to reach a happy ending after all. Presenting a bad ending just because of poor dice rolls or failed deductions would be too cruel!
The player must always look cool!
And who am I kidding, I was the one controlling Ronia at the time. Do you know how difficult it was to screech with a metallic voice…? I was ready to suddenly show the side effects of the doping drug and go, “Argh, my head…!”, giving myself a breather.
I had prepared all the entertainment, but then this, this madman… no, the Second Prince goes and unexpectedly plays the hug card! Among the seventeen simulations I ran, not once did that happen.
Maybe I had underestimated the Second Prince’s madness. As much as I said it was safe, what was he trying to do, dying just like that?
…Of course. Watching Erid dying and Centra crying was quite delicious. I found it incredibly entertaining, even applauding internally. I never imagined Centra would deliver her lines so well. I was ready to input manually if needed, but it turns out, AI needs to be watched and learned from.
Anyway, that was the Final Battle Plan B.
“Or, is it… because you didn’t get to use the panty modeling you’ve been working on for three days?”
“That’s very unfortunate.”
“I, I meant it as a joke, why are you genuinely upset…?!”
Panties, if I may exaggerate with three spoonfuls of hyperbole, are the soul of a character. Even the same noblewoman character can undergo a transformation in personality just by what she wears underneath. They are also the epitome of romance.
I could go on about this topic for five and a half pages of A4 paper.
Even if we were to apply it to the Purple Tower Master under that skirt…
No, nevermind.
On second thought, the source of all my torment and agony was right before my eyes—the Tower Master.
When I glared with resentment, the Tower Master looked confused, as if unable to follow the situation, with question marks swirling around in metaphorical confusion.
The reason for my disqualification as a GM, the reason for my suffering, was…
In the very last moment, I prevented Centra from kissing… because I blocked it.
That scene was meant to be the grand finale. A tribute to Prince Irid, who, like a fool, had only tumbled around, and at the very least, it was due his minimum compensation. I would have stopped it from going as far as a tongue kiss, anyway. There was no data for that. Had there been a tongue, it probably would have tasted like the curry udon I had saved as dummy data.
But at least the kiss had to happen. The soft touch of lips had to be preserved.
And I ruined everything.
If only there had been a rational reason for my decision… No, it didn’t even need to be rational. Had there been some aesthetic reason, it wouldn’t be so torturous. Like wanting to give a figurative middle finger to Prince Irid out of affection for Uriel…
But none of that was the case.
The data for the sensation of lips in the virtual reality had been extracted from the “Mage Tower Lord’s Kiss Barrage Incident” following the declaration of a thirty-fold subsidy. Although all the men in the tower were confined to their labs under the strict control of the violet Mage Tower’s female sergeant-at-arms (4th in hierarchy / affectionate to the Tower Lord).
I, being there right after the incident, couldn’t escape the barrage of kisses.
How daring for a man like you to receive the Tower Lord’s kiss! I was hunted down for days because of it.
Back then, I had been delighted to collect kissing data, bragging about getting something I had never even received from a girlfriend not until I came to this other world. But the moment Centra was about to kiss Irid’s lips, something…
It was as if the Tower Lord would be indirectly kissing Prince Irid.
At that thought, I had reflexively hit the shutdown button.
…I still don’t quite understand why I did that. Was it because Prince Irid’s movements were so unsatisfactory that I wanted to spite my own convictions? Or was something wrong with the stew the Tower Lord served that day?
Perhaps everything had been wrong since the start. Perhaps, I was always a selfish GM, who valued their own happiness over the player’s…
“Argh, nooo!”
I clutched my head and screamed aloud. It felt like my soul was being torn in two!
“Uh, hey… If you’re troubled, talk to me. We agreed to help each other, right?”
Tap tap. The violet Mage Tower Lord gingerly tugged at the hem of my robe. Peeking below the brim of her hat, her partially obscured eye, perky nose, and small, rosy lips—
I smacked my own forehead and laughed.
“Heh, hehehehe…”
“….?!”
I was certain. I must have been possessed by madness. To resolve this madness, I had to eliminate the cause. The issue now was ‘insufficient data.’
What if I had about thirty varieties of lip-touch sensations inputted in the database? I wouldn’t have hesitated then. Irid could have enjoyed a passionate kiss.
If I… If I had saved the sensation of a tongue in the database! Irid could have even shared an intense deep kiss! It was my shortcoming. The feeling of dismay was overwhelming.
But one can’t be caught in despair forever. People must move towards a bright and glorious future. Only those who act do not harbor regrets. I made my declaration.
“Lady of the Mage Tower, I will be taking a week off.”
“So suddenly? Wha-what… Fine, but. If you’re going for a change of mood, maybe I could join—”
“I plan to visit every red-light district in the capital.”
“??”
“I shall learn everything about the female body data. Do not look for me. Adiós.”
“Wait, wait, hey, hold on! Just a moment…!! Don’t run away, talk to me, hey!!”
Boom.
My attempt at escaping with the database was quelled by the owner of the magic tower after approximately 30 minutes of chaos.
————————————————————————————————
“….What are you doing?”
Something about the magic tower owner’s gaze felt weird ever since I tried escaping from the tower. It was like he was looking at me thinking, ‘Our boy has grown enough to see such things.’ Even though it was a firm decision for future TRPGs and the salvation of the nation.
….I can’t deny that I was also curiously drawn to the unknown world.
While operating the magic experimenting magic circle, I responded.
“The session’s over so I’m retrieving the log.”
“Log?”
“It’s a record of Prince Irrid’s thrilling imperial journey 100 years from now. I am documenting everything for future reference.”
“….Your naming sense is terrible.”
“The one whose sense is bad is the tower owner…”
“I, I use! Clean! Magic! Every! Day! Every! Morning! And! Every! Night!!”
Each time the tower owner raised his voice, I felt a sensation as if I’d stepped on a Lego. I had to roll around on the floor to bear the inhumane “pain enhancement.”
Ignoring my sufferance, the tower owner casually scanned the magic circle simulation and said,
“That ‘Visual Recording’ magic seems to consume a lot of space…?”
“I plan to save the whole world so it will take some memory. Anyways, if I please the prince well, wouldn’t he give me his dragon heart, don’t you think? Besides, you already gave me a topgrade magic stone last time.”
“Just realize that the dragon heart is a National Treasure. It’s on the verge of requiring a petition to the first princess.”
“If we persuade the first princess, it should work fine.”
“But, um… it won’t be easy, you know. She’s sort of eccentric. Her sensibilities are… a tad different from the others, I guess?”
“I’ve logged everything. Let’s watch it together when we are bored.”
“When we do, do you know that thing called ‘popcorn’? It’s delicious… especially the one with caramel sprinkles.”
“That sounds wonderful. Give me a sec, if I just name this, I’ll be done,’Prince Eried’s Thrilling…’”
“I told you that name is bad!”
“Then, please, can you name it?”
“The Prince, the Flower, and the Resistance!”
“That’s a mundane…”
“It’s hundred times better than that thrilling crap! Now shoo, scoot…”
“Ow. Ouch.”
In the end, the log’s name was decided by coercion and tyranny: ‘The Emperor, the Flower, and the Resistance’. I finished saving, turned off the simulation room’s light, and came out with Matapju.
I had to contact the first princess, and pay back the debt of gratitude to the second prince. He seemed to be busy inspecting the capital Crown Hall, so it would be easy to meet him.
There was a long way to go for the completion of the world. Fighting.
From Noble mtl dot com
————-
The empty room.
The magic circle of the simulation room began to glow faintly.
Why the fuk is that glowing!?
So he does love Yuna lol
LOL!