NOVEL ONLINE FREE Chapter 1
The book has been published by Overlap Bunko. Volumes 1-3 have been expanded and revised with over 60,000 additional words, incorporating a large number of new scenarios.
Volume 4 (Part 1) is scheduled for release on June 25th!
Additional content, including illustrations published on Overlap’s official website, have been added to the afterwords of each chapter.
Munchkin:
1. A player who makes self-centered demands to gain advantages for their character, behaving like an unyielding child.
2. A player who prioritizes the rules and focuses on strengthening their character within the rules, rather than enjoying the story. Also known as “Wa-Munchkin.”
The recognition of self-awareness and pondering whether I am sane or not seems to be a deeply arduous process.
My name is Erich. I have no family name.
That’s because I was born as the fourth son in an estate on the outskirts of the Threefold Empire of Rain. A mere peasant farmer has no right to claim a family name. Even if I were to stretch it, I could only refer to myself as Erich of Königsstuhl Manor, or as Johannes’ youngest son when outside.
When I was five, during the spring, my mother was so preoccupied with caring for my newborn sister that I was often left alone. Around that time, my sense of self began to spiral into such profound thoughts.
This is due to what might be called my past life—I possess a detached sense of self that seems to belong to someone else.
Typically, a five-year-old is an innocent, carefree creature who plays with small animals or insects, running around and getting dirty. In this unfamiliar rural area, I should only think it inconvenient.
Yet, I have an oddly insightful, almost jaded thought process that emerged alongside my awareness. Along with these thoughts, I carry experiences that, while seemingly not my own, feel undeniably personal.
Through these experiences, I know that I have another memory—that of a man named Sahaku Shaku, in his early thirties, who died of early-onset cancer.
Calling it my “past life” seems appropriate, for I possess the awareness and experiences of a man in his thirties. He lived an ordinary life, blessed with a fair amount of happiness, but his life ended prematurely due to a hereditary cancer.
He worked for a trading company, became a manager, and enjoyed his hobbies fully, leading a life with no regrets. However, since he never married, he lamented not being able to allow his parents to hold his children. Thankfully, his sister fulfilled that role for him.
The question arises: why am I here, aware of my existence as a five-year-old in this unfamiliar land?
One reason comes to mind. While undergoing terminal care for a rapidly progressing cancer, I often indulged in meditation to calm my mind. In the lotus position, I delved deep into my spirit to ease the fear induced by my deteriorating body.
During one such meditation, I met a god.
Though it sounds absurd, even to myself, it’s the truth—I encountered a divine being seated upon a lotus who introduced himself as the Bodhisattva of Future Buddha.
According to the Bodhisattva, there are numerous worlds where humanity is on the brink of collapse, and many gods responsible for maintaining these worlds seek help indirectly by sending capable souls to rectify such fates. The Bodhisattva tasked me with resolving—or averting—a similar crisis in this world without directly interfering.
One might think a god could just “fix” things with divine powers, but there’s a catch—it appears that when gods intervene too much, humans tend to stop striving, ultimately leading to their decline. Therefore, gods prefer to empower people within the world indirectly to restore balance.
Interestingly, he also mentioned that the prophets from various mythologies who established moral foundations were likely offered similar missions, leading them to become sages or divine children.
This was an impossibly grand and ambitious story. As someone who considered buying expensive and substantial books or lighter reads as my own form of luxury, this was far beyond my comprehension.
Still, it seemed the Bodhisattva’s decision was final—I was here, existing as Erich, the fourth son of a farming household in Königsstuhl Manor.
However, he didn’t assign me any specific role or message to deliver. He merely granted me a familiar-sounding divine edict: “Do as thou wilt.”
An evil god, perhaps?
Joking aside, it’s likely this stems from some deep, complex strategic level of thought beyond my understanding in the realm of the divine. Without a doubt, my freedom to act serves some convenient purpose for him.
Thus, whether for good or ill, my very existence here holds meaning. As long as I’m alive, I must live.
There is one tangible piece of evidence supporting the existence of this deity.
At the end of our encounter, he bestowed upon me a single blessing: the power to shape myself as I desired.
At the time, its meaning eluded me, but now, with my self-awareness solidified in this world, it’s clear.
It is the ability to “shape my abilities as I desire.”
The moment I focus, I see an outline—a blueprint of my being, showing what I can do, what I’m skilled at, and what potential I have. Furthermore, I can manipulate it to my heart’s content.
It’s an intricate system that perfectly mirrors the games I loved in my past life. Here, I could build myself as I wanted and experience the world—an unparalleled form of play.
I was immediately captivated by the simple yet compelling system, where the basic cylindrical structure of my body is surrounded by numerous other cylinders representing professions, skills, and traits, collectively shaping my character.
Recognizing this, I realized what it was.
It’s a tabletop RPG. The interface resembles a console game, but the fundamental structure is identical to the expensive, thick books I used to collect and play games from. These are the character sheets from which we create life stories and weave stories with friends, akin to live-action role-playing.
Ah, how wonderful it is. Infinite possibilities stretch before me.
Typically, creatures only acquire skills through repeated effort—pulling weeds improves one’s weeding skills, swinging a sword enhances one’s swordsmanship.
That’s standard fare. You wouldn’t expect pulling weeds to grant you mastery of swordplay.
But this blessing is different—it allows me to pool my general skill points and allocate them as I choose. Imagine an adventurer excelling in swordplay after spending time merely pulling weeds.
What fun! This system truly mirrors the RPGs I adored. With experience points gained during quests, one can learn skills unrelated to their adventures—a world as I loved it.
Amidst such favorable circumstances, wouldn’t it be natural to question one’s sanity?
However, the power functions exactly as intended, evidenced by a simple divine figurine in my hands—a tangible truth.
In my past life, I was clumsy. Building plastic models was a struggle, and even then, I often made mistakes despite my efforts.
But see how, after allocating skill points to dexterity and acquiring a basic wood carving skill, I can now create this figurine with just a knife and a piece of wood.
Ah, I am Erich of Königsstuhl Manor, a man who can do as he pleases.
—
[TIPS] Proficiency applies to base stats, traits, and skills universally.
Erich
—
Note 1: Even though I may seem like a power gamer, I’m not aiming to exploit the system in notorious ways like wielding a shield and two swords or turning into a bird, just to upset the GM.
Note 2 (2019/1/22): The title references Old Man Henderson, a famous overseas tabletop RPG player known for turning an extremely hostile GM’s scenario into an unexpectedly clean conclusion.
Henderson Scale measures how much a story diverges from its original plot:
– -9: The story progresses exactly as planned, reaching an ultimate happy ending.
– -1: The dragon is defeated, the princess returns home, and the adventurers celebrate at the tavern.
– 0: Things unfold as the GM and players imagined, whether good or bad.
– 0.5: Minor divergence affecting the main plot.
– 0.75: Subplots replace the main plot.
– 1.0: Critical divergence rendering the ending unreachable.
– 1.25: New strategies sought, but the GM declares an end.
– 1.5: Total party wipe due to player intent.
– 1.75: Deliberate total party wipes or scenario breakdown.
– 2.0: Main storyline collapse; campaign ends.
– 2.0+: Myths arise. Despite significant divergence, the game continues, somehow finds new purpose, and even succeeds.
Note 3 (2019/2/8): To improve the reading experience, future afterwords will contain explanations and supplements instead of personal notes.
Note 4 (2019/2/16): Explanations will be added to unfamiliar terms upon their first appearance.
– TRPG [Tabletop Role-Playing Game]: Essentially, manual versions of console RPGs using rulebooks and dice. GMs [Game Masters] guide PLs [Players] through scenarios, creating characters [PCs] and solving problems devised by the GM. Genres range from fantasy and sci-fi to horror, modern biographies, and beyond.