Chapter Text
Did you hear about that urban legend?
Where [something unknown] presented itself in a [rare] moment.
When [something is done] to the [unknown] you/the person will [experience something impossible].
But impossible isn't really the right way to describe it, right?
More like something [sounds cool] but is unattainable in our finite existence.
That is the origin of all urban legends I suppose.
The story of something amazing that will break the boring cycle of life.
Let me tell you about the urban legend, 『Numbered』
This is a story of a group of people, or maybe it's just one person?
『Numbered』were a group of unbeatable players that used a username format that consisted of a Roman numeral from 1 to 16 in between a set of brackets.
A simple tale, really.
But these players never played as a team of more than three and more often than not soloed gaming trials that would have stumped a team of great players.
It was clear that the gaming world revered them as more than just a legend, making thousand of wild speculations.
Is it a computer?
A super hacker?
Or an extraterrestrial?
Each speculation gets wilder, while the realists try to hack into their accounts only to fail.
Those who tried to ‘pretend’ were put down and humiliated quite quickly.
And throughout all this, they remained silent.
But the truth is more often than not boringly unimpressive.
Here is the truth.
The record holder for a winning streak untarnished by not even a single black speck in over 250 games-
“Oi, I know it's a zombie apocalypse but to have Joan of Arc here is kinda weird right? We're in the 21st century.”
“Maybe that's because the virus can reanimate long-dead things? Ah, look out one of the zombies are charging at you.”
The sound of gunfire can be heard, three consecutive shots.
“That's not likely either. Joan of Arc was burned so her remains shouldn't be salvageable to the point where her corpse is walking around with most of its flesh.”
“You're too stiff. It's just a game!”
The dark room was large, though the inhabitance of eight large screens, an array of gaming devices and mountains of instant food made seems cramped.
Each of the screens had several programs running, most of them games and some a jumble of algorithms. In front of the screen where a simplistic zombie shooting game was running the main protagonist of this story sat transfixed, unbothered by the maelstrom of junk that surrounded him.
The 16th member of numbers, 『XVI』, Feliciano Vargas.
A fancy title with no meaning in the real world. Really, Feliciano Vargas is just an Italian NEET, and 18-year-old virgin who plays zombie games at one am.
Thus that is the sad truth.
It was on this fine day, somewhere at 8 am, that Feliciano Vargas finds himself clicking open a mysterious e-mail.
Illuminated by the faint light of the screens and the sunlight that struggled to make its presence through the thick curtains, the trash had been hastily swept to one side in a heap.
“Where the hell is my tablet?!”
Feliciano, though a hermit, could not deny the need to leave his sanctuary when his food supply dwindled. But for a gamer, it is a sin to go somewhere without a game in immediate reach!
The world was not such a kind place so he could not simply stuff his games inside a sling bag and be gone with it. If that one bag was snatched by a thief, his whole life was over! No, he needed to do this carefully!
In the baggy pants with 6 pockets, he filled with his handheld, multi-purpose battery, solar charger, handphone, other handhelds and the backup phone.
He would put similar things and the tablet PC in his belt pack… if he could sort through the mess and find it.
-Ring!-
“There it is!”
Seizing the chance he pounced on the location of the sound, successfully emerging with the tablet PC.
“Ah wait, that was one ring so it's an email to my personal account?”
This paranoid shut-in had several email accounts; Personal, gaming, appearance sake, back up and a false. Extreme measures to prevent hacking.
“Ah, something addressed to me?”
The message read,
[Have you ever felt that you were born into the wrong world, the 16th member of 『Numbers』,『XVI』, The Adriatic King?]
… hah?
It was a somewhat strange message, including a URL that seemed to somehow lack the code for the country domain. But it looked like a link to-
-a game.
So it's a challenge? He clicked on the link, alert for viruses.
It linked him to-
- a simple online chess game? What the hell?
He was half tempted to shut down the page but resisted.
It was a rule of 『Numbers』that when challenged to a game, they will never back down and never lose.
So it was basically his duty to respond to the challenge.
“Ah what the heck. I've got time to waste before the worst of the sun goes away.”
A game that Feliciano had expected to be over in less than an hour expanded itself into a brutal six-hour battle that left him panting, head flopped down the tabletop, the gold lettering of the words ‘you win’ flashing on the screen.
“What the hell… was that a grandmaster or another 『Numbers』playing a good joke…”
He'd already ruled out the possibility of a program fifteen minutes into the game. There was no program in this world capable of making those moves.
A program will always choose the best option, so the moves can be predicted as long as you can pick out the chosen option from 10^120 choices. It wasn't really his skill, but he could still do it given some time. Truthfully there were only around three 『Numbers』with that sort of crazy ability as far as he knew. (One of which he called a friend). The rest of them were slower and thirty percent of the time misjudged.
But that wasn't the probably here. The person on the other side of the screen knew how to bait and make his moves look sloppy. The execution of his moves was not with the order of a program. It was definitely a person.
Just as his musings paused, another ring signalled the arrival of mail. Wearily, Feliciano dragged the tablet closer.
[Well done! You're the final 『Number』that beat me! Congratulations! I'm sure that living in this world is hard for you too?]
The room with a set of eight screens, tables, keyboards and different type consoles, a floor with empty packets, be it games of food, here and there with a pile in one corner, a square black room where the sunset rays struggled of dye it in a hue of orange.
The entire room froze.
In Feliciano's mind, unpleasant memories began resurfacing.
He was undoubtedly different, a person the majority of the faceless world wouldn't even try to comprehend. The only happy memory of the last he had was the fact his isolation led to the creation of the scenario where 『Numbers』was formed. The rest is a history of being ostracised for being incomprehensible.
Of course, his reply was angry and rude.
[None of your damned business!]
Judging by the quick somewhat reply to his outburst, the question was expected to remain without a proper answer.
[What do you think about this world?]
…
[Its a damn shitty game.]
Who would like this stupid game of a world where disobeying the rules, obeying them, creating your own rules… the outcome of all that was a punishment. The world would turn on you for lacking a certain thing, for being better at other things, even for making your own way! It's a senseless game designed for masochists.
-Ring!-
He contemplated shutting off the tablet. The words, however, caught him like a barbed hook.
[What if I told you that in an alternate universe, everything was ruled by games, where the parameters are clear, exist?]
He grinned.
[Then I was born into the wrong world.]
That seemed to be the switch, an unseen call for fate's wheel to click and turn.
Several things happened at once.
His eight screens glitched, showing static.
The sun set, the orange glow of the room disappearing.
Feliciano felt the gravity shift.
The objects of the room bag melding into the walls and floor as it- the cube-shaped room unfolded.
“What the-”
A voice came from the tablet tightly clutched in his hand.
[I agree! Thus, I'm going to give you a chance to be reborn into my world!]
Feliciano's senses were flooded, his eyes blinded by a sudden flash of light, his ears filled with the sound of static and his body suddenly weightless, before suddenly plunging through a floor that was no longer there