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00
Isagi Yoichi prided himself on a relatively even temper, at least off the pitch. But waking up to find a stamped "Caretaker Application" for Bliss Lumen sitting on his nightstand was enough to make his vision white out.
Bliss Lumen. The absolute most colossal joke of a football training facility ever coded into existence.
He suffered through the stupid game because he’d listened to Niko Ikki’s deadpan bullshit. Niko had sworn, hand on his heart, that the protagonist of this so-called "football simulator" possessed Isagi's exact face.
Sure, Niko hadn't technically lied. But the guy was a manipulative little menace who’d conveniently omitted the most crucial detail.
The football was just cheap window dressing; the game was a straight-up, unhinged eroge.
Isagi had powered through the playthrough purely out of spite. By the time the credits rolled, the pitch-black themes and genuinely psychotic kinks had deeply traumatized the fiercely single athlete. He’d been forced to spend an entire off-season just detoxing from the psychological damage.
Niko’s subsequent defense? He claimed it was an "educational tool" to prepare Isagi for the sinister, cutthroat reality of the gay dating scene.
Isagi called bullshit.
Honestly, Isagi suspected an obsessive anti had developed the damn thing. It was insulting enough that the protagonist shared his face but was benched to a non-playing "caretaker" role. But the developers had also slapped on a maliciously targeted backstory: a tragic, washed-up loser who quit the sport after a single crushing defeat.
Worse, the main questline had absolutely zero to do with passing drills or physical therapy. The protagonist was treated as nothing more than a convenient, walking release valve for a roster of aggressively horny players. As a man who practically bled football, the sheer lack of tactical ego had left Isagi violently appalled.
But that didn't matter now.
The real Isagi Yoichi had transmigrate into this world, and he wasn't here to play nursemaid. He was going to speed-run this nightmare with zero Bad Endings, aggressively dodge every single lewd scene, and get back to his real-life career.
Hijacking the original plot, Isagi tore up the caretaker application. He marched straight into the project director's office and forcibly entered Bliss Lumen under the only title that mattered: Striker.
What Isagi didn't realize was that this single, aggressive ego-trip was a fatal system error for the game's code. He was about to summon a hurricane powerful enough to tear the entire eroge's storyline to absolute shreds.
01
When Mikage Reo’s overly cheerful voice echoed down the corridor, Isagi Yoichi nearly blew out his calves launching into a dead sprint.
He whipped around, only to find Nagi Seishiro walling off his only viable exit. 190 centimeters of dead weight on one side, 185 centimeters of corporate heir on the other. Playing this nightmare through a screen had completely failed to convey the sheer scale of these two. Sandwiched between them in the flesh, the air practically evaporated from his lungs.
Okay. This is bad.
Isagi’s life flashed before his eyes. Except it wasn't his life—it was a rapid-fire montage of highly explicit, trauma-inducing Bad Ending CGs. The exact same dignity-destroying screens that had originally shattered his will to live.
“Why’re you running away?" Nagi slurred, his voice dragging in a drawl. He dropped his chin heavily onto the crown of Isagi’s head, idly blowing at a stray strand of hair.
Beside him, Reo deployed a smile perfectly calibrated for his 'School Prince' character setting. It was suspiciously sunny. "Yeah! We finally scored a pass today. We just wanted to track you down for some practice!" Reo beamed. "Nagi’s been dying to see you."
"Mm-hmm," a muffled hum vibrated directly against Isagi's skull. "Practice. Together."
Isagi’s internal alarm bells deafened him. Practice? Absolute bait.
First of all, Nagi Seishiro was canonically allergic to effort. The game developers had completely trashed basic biology, gifting the guy an absurdly overpowered, heavily muscled 190-centimeter frame despite a diet consisting entirely of lemon tea and neglect.
They justified it with classic logic: It’s not a cheat code, it’s natural talent. So, for the 'Lazy Genius' to actively suggest breaking a sweat? It was a guaranteed death trap.
Isagi shifted his frantic gaze toward the purple-haired heir.
Catching Isagi's stare, Reo's smile instantly melted. It took on a sickeningly sweet, shy edge. The flawlessly handsome heir nervously pinched his asymmetrical bangs, a faint, rosy flush creeping up his neck.
For Reo, this was a painfully hard-won miracle. Sure, he used to resent the guy. He’d briefly hated Isagi for stealing Nagi’s attention after that crushing early-game defeat. But that was history. Now, he was hopelessly falling for Isagi Yoichi.
But the universe was playing a sick joke. Back when he didn't care, Isagi was everywhere. The absolute second Reo realized he was in love, Isagi had practically vaporized!
Thank god for today's pass. If Reo had to rely on "accidentally" bumping into him in the communal showers or the cafeteria, he’d starve to death before the program ended.
Seeing Isagi freeze in confusion, Reo knew he couldn't let up. He had finally cornered his prey. This was the perfect chance to force Isagi to notice his charm.
—This is even more messed up.
When Reo actually reached out and physically grabbed his hand, the blood drained violently from Isagi’s face.
In the original code, Mikage Reo was aggressively hostile toward the protagonist. The malice made perfect sense: Nagi frequently sneaked off to the caretaker's office for "special caretaking sessions."
But Isagi had dodged the caretaker route entirely. He’d dumped that ticking time bomb of a job onto a middle-aged female NPC. Logically, Reo should be treating him like invisible dirt.
So, excitedly proposing a joint sweat session? It was a targeted assassination attempt.
"Practice?" Isagi scratched his cheek, his brain overheating as he desperately calculated a polite exit strategy. "How would the three of us even—"
Reo cut him off, as if he’d rehearsed the lines in the mirror. "That's fine! We can just do some casual drills. I got the pass today, and I just... really wanted to see you."
Isagi practically choked on his own terror.
In a hardcore eroge, when a canonically hostile character (a guy coded to literally break the protagonist into a hollowed-out doll out of pure jealousy for another man) said he wanted to come see you...
That was a villain locking the basement door and revving up an unmentionable, battery-operated torture device!
Nope. Absolutely not.
He needed an excuse, and he needed immediate tactical backup to protect him. Sure, he was into guys, but he had standards. He sure as hell wasn't throwing his life away on walking red flags with melodramatic complexes and totally twisted, possessive romance logic.
His brain redlined, processing the danger at the exact same hyper-speed he used to calculate high-stakes puzzle mechanics.
"—Ah, right!" Isagi blurted out. "Let me call Barou over! We can run a two-on-two!"
"Wh—" The purple-haired heir instantly panicked, his flawless mask cracking as he shot a frantic, aborted look at Nagi.
He wanted some quality time with Isagi! Not with some other random player! Reo gritted his teeth.
Nagi’s heavy arm suddenly tightened around Isagi's shoulders. The sudden restraint nearly sent Isagi into a defensive squat to slip the hold. But terrified of triggering these two high-risk targets into a predatory chase sequence, he locked his muscles and forced himself to stay perfectly still.
Nagi sounded deeply, genuinely displeased. "Isagi... why do you want to invite maid Barou...?"
Isagi shuddered violently. Just as I thought! They’re want to use a "thirdwheel" to add some spice to their relationship! This was getting completely out of hand.
"Isn't it better to have an even number for a practice session?" he asked, weaponizing his most utterly innocent, wide-eyed stare.
Against all odds, Barou grudgingly agreed to show up.
Reo and Nagi’s expressions instantly deflated into a state of venomous disappointment. As Isagi finally jogged over to safety behind Barou's massive frame, leaving the other two to glare absolute daggers at the 'maid,' he let out a shuddering exhale.
Whew. Thank god I'm a tactical genius. Another horrific Bad Ending cleanly bypassed.
02
Isagi Yoichi actively treated the yoga studio like a radioactive hazard zone. For someone trying to survive this nightmare, the room was a literal minefield of R-18 trauma.
But today, he’d pushed his physical limits to the absolute brink preparing for the upcoming Germany-France faction clash. His muscles screamed with a dull, throbbing ache.
Taking advantage of the witching hour, when the rest of the facility should have been dead to the world, he sneaked in for a quick recovery stretch. Clearly, he had vastly underestimated the sheer, targeted malice of this game’s code.
He’d deliberately gone to bed early just to wake up in the pitch-black hours of the morning. And yet, the studio wasn't empty.
Isagi stepped over the threshold and immediately locked eyes with Itoshi Rin.
A crimson, flashing Bad Ending flag barreled toward him like a derailed freight train. How was this even physically possible?!
The late-night setting. The strategically arranged floor mats. The highly specialized equipment pushed to the periphery—props that aggressively implied they were designed for two users. The entire atmosphere reeked of a mandatory eroge event trigger.
Isagi instantly pivoted to bolt. He wasn't fast enough. The heavy clack of the mechanical door locking shut echoed like a gunshot.
He frantically slapped his ID badge against the scanner, clawing at the handle. "Huh? It's jammed?!”
The universe was absolutely laughing at him. This was the exact, cheap logic these games operated on. Despite the facility boasting state-of-the-art security, it somehow suffered from the classic, low-budget 'stuck door' trope.
Just as Isagi yanked out his tablet to signal an SOS, a heavy shadow eclipsed him.
A searing heat source boxed him in from behind. A pale hand shot past his ear, slamming against the reinforced door. Isagi whipped around, only to find Rin standing dangerously, suffocatingly close.
"Oi, Lukewarm."
The second the dark rumble left Rin's throat, his other hand snapped out, pinning Isagi flat against the metal door. Isagi choked on a startled gasp.
Given the unadulterated murder burning in Rin's teal eyes, Isagi fully braced himself for a death threat. However, the younger boy dropped a completely psychotic demand. "You have to look at me."
His voice was a dark, gravelly command. Half-swallowed by the dim studio lights, Rin’s gaze drifted down, locking onto the exposed skin of Isagi’s collarbone like a predator visualizing a bite. The hand planted flat against Isagi’s chest didn't budge a single millimeter.
"Uh—Rin, shouldn't you be asleep?"
Desperate to shatter the suffocating sexual tension, Isagi deliberately cranked his volume, delivering the line with the stiffness of a broken NPC.
They were way too close. He could literally feel the heat radiating off Rin’s skin. As a shy player who valued basic personal space, Isagi felt this was a gross violation of standard social distance.
Normally, Rin wouldn't even deign to look in his general direction. In the original lore, Rin treated the protagonist as nothing more than a convenient 'tool for relief;’ he also outright claimed like that. Yet now, Rin “cunningly” redirect Isagi’s question .
"What about you? What are you doing here instead of sleeping? I practice yoga here. Every night."
Isagi replied with righteous, survival-driven honesty. "I just came to stretch.”
"Stretching? In the middle of the night? What were you doing before this?" Rin pressed, stepping even further into Isagi's space, his tone aggressively interrogative.
The reality? Itoshi Rin had been explicitly lying in wait.
Ever since the Neo Egoist League started, Rin had noticed Isagi acting noticeably colder.
Sure, Rin had never exactly spoken a kind word to him, and yes, he’d spat pure venom when Isagi tried to comfort him after their last match against U20 Japenese team.
But how dare Isagi turn around and start cozying up to that blond mop-head the exact second the NEL started?!
Rin was already irritated, but the fury boiled over when he realized he couldn't even pin the guy down. He’d aggressively interrogated Isagi’s roommates, and whether it was intentional or not, the idiots played dumb every single time. He’d finally managed to corner that monk, extracting a critical piece of intel: because of their Wednesday practice match, Isagi always hit the yoga studio in the early hours of the morning.
Isolating a spawn point to catch this lukewarm idiot should have felt like a victory, but it only pissed Rin off more. What exactly was he doing sneaking into a darkened room at night?! It didn't take a genius to figure out he was up to something shady!
And so, utterly oblivious to the fact that he was nuking every conceivable social boundary, Rin cornered Isagi against the door with absolute, self-righteous conviction.
In Itoshi Rin's mind, he was completely justified.
I’m sneaking around precisely so I don't trigger disaster characters like you!
Of course, Isagi couldn't scream that out loud. He genuinely thought their hostility had somewhat thawed during their co-op preparations against the U20 match. He figured he was finally immune to the 'tool' treatment from the original game. Could this psychopath at least treat him like a human being?!
Isagi was completely out of options.
Suddenly, the metal door rattled violently. Rin instinctively straightened up.
Isagi immediately locked onto the tactical backup he had summoned earlier. Barou Shouei stood in the hallway, his brow furrowed so deeply it looked structurally painful. He was grinding his teeth, his wild hair cascading over the shoulders of his sleepwear.
Beside him stood a man wearing a low-brimmed cap, his face cast into deep, ominous shadow.
Evidently, Barou had blitzed over from the Ubers sector the exact second he received Isagi's SOS, physically dragging a maintenance worker along for the ride.
"Isagi Yoichi... Do you have a death wish?!"
Isagi desperately wanted to scream. Is there only one maintenance worker in this entire damn facility?!
That guy in the cap was the exact, faceless mob character from one of the most infamously graphic Bad Endings in the entire franchise!
Whatever. Priority was escaping this double-threat flag with Barou.
Pivoting to dodge his impending doom, Isagi summoned an Oscar-worthy performance. He let out a dramatic, breathy sigh and casually ducked under Rin's arm, scurrying straight to Barou's side. "You scared me! I thought I was going to be locked in there forever!"
"Don't be a moron! Do you not know how to press the emergency button and call maintenance yourself?!" Barou snapped, though he notably didn't shove Isagi away. Swallowing a yawn, Barou cast a highly suspicious glare at the dark-faced Itoshi Rin. “And…What exactly were you two doing in a locked studio?"
"Huh? Nothing, nothing at all! I just came to stretch, but it turned out Rin was here too. The door jammed.” Isagi turned his head with a forced smile, only to crash head-first into Rin's absolute, murderous glare.
Rin didn't say a single word. He just continued to bore a hole straight through Isagi’s skull.
He is definitely pissed because I summoned Barou to shatter his eroge event trigger.
In the original storyline, Rin’s arrogance eclipsed the sun. He never saw the caretaker protagonist as a real person. Now that Isagi was a rival and had stolen the spotlight during the match against Japenese U20 team; Rin's trash-talk could also prove his pure hatred towards Isagi.
As Barou shoved him down the hall back toward his room, Isagi let out a long sigh of relief.
03
Isagi Yoichi drained the last of his water bottle in one aggressive swallow. He shot a venomous glare at Michael Kaiser, who had spent the last ten minutes trying to pick a fight over absolutely nothing, and spun on his heel.
Lunch break, utterly ruined. His brain throbbed with the residual echoes of Kaiser’s insufferable gaslighting speech and Ness’s parrot-like choruses.
But the second Isagi rounded the corner toward the Bastard München training block, a violent, unnatural heat flash-fried his nervous system.
The molten spike of temperature was terrifyingly, aggressively concentrated right in his... lower half. Every ounce of athletic stamina was instantly siphoned from his muscles. His knees buckled, sending him crashing heavily against the corridor wall as he dragged in frantic, shallow gasps.
What the hell? Was it that cup of water?!
Pure fury sliced through his fogging brain. That bastard! Even if Ness was the lapdog who physically spiked the drink, Kaiser had definitely given the order. Had they seriously poisoned a fellow striker?!
Sure, this twisted universe was technically coded as a hardcore eroge, but he was a legitimate pro athlete! Sabotaging a teammate’s physical conditioning was a blatant foul. He was absolutely reporting this safety hazard to the coaching staff!
Isagi dragged his leaden limbs forward, desperately limping toward his reserved tactical room. If he could just lock himself inside, he could bypass whatever sick event trigger this was.
Unfortunately, the game's code was actively working against him. Just as his cleats caught on the floorboards, a strong arm wrapped seamlessly around his waist from behind, catching him mid-fall.
The intricate blue rose tattoo climbing up the wrist was a dead giveaway. Gritting his teeth against the drug's haze, Isagi craned his neck.
Michael Kaiser stared down at him, a sickeningly sharp smirk carved into his face.
Isagi shoved violently at the chest trapping him, but the arm banded around his waist was a literal iron vise. Stripped of his core strength, he didn't stand a microscopic chance against a New Gen World XI striker in a physical grapple.
Kaiser’s eyes darkened. He caught Isagi’s jaw in his knuckles, forcing his head up. Yet, beneath the arrogant veneer, Kaiser’s breathing was noticeably uneven. The immaculate Emperor facade had completely shattered after the Ubers match.
"I never thought you to be capable of making such a... delicious face."
Long, gilded eyelashes, a captivating flush of red outlining piercing eyes, and features sculpted to arrogant perfection. Michael Kaiser possessed an undeniably flawless appearance. Even his predatory sneers bled an aura of exquisite cruelty.
(Disclaimer: The preceding physical assessment was entirely Isagi recalling the game’s official dialogue. It had zero correlation with his actual, functioning eyeballs.)
Right now, Isagi just wanted to throw a punch. He thrashed like a netted shark, but Kaiser effortlessly absorbed the blows, pinning him flush against the wall. Kaiser’s tattooed hand shifted upward, locking firmly around the front of Isagi's throat as he leaned in, invading his personal space.
The theatric demeanor Kaiser had weaponized at the start of the NEL was ash. Feeling the frantic, rabbit-fast thrum of Isagi's pulse beneath his thumb, an unhinged, dark euphoria flared wildly in Kaiser's chest.
Was it the urge to destroy? Or a completely alien, consuming greed? Having never actually given a damn about another human being, seeing the usually defiant egoist gasping and helpless completely short-circuited Kaiser's brain.
The intrusive memory of Isagi running alongside with that eyelashed striker on the match recording before NEL made an acidic wave of pure, violent jealousy boil over.
The maddening little clown who had hijacked his entire team was finally trapped. Right here. In his grip. Kaiser’s own heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs. His skin ran feverishly hot, though he stubbornly diagnosed the symptom as the adrenaline of finally reclaiming his throne.
The final score would be settled on the pitch, obviously. But the physical reality of dominating Isagi Yoichi right now was a fatally intoxicating high. His pupils blew wide, eclipsing the blue as he stared down at his struggling prey.
"Look at you, my pathetic little clown…"
"L-Let go of me... cough, cough!"
Isagi was viscerally disgusted by his own vocal cords. What the hell kind of black-market steroid is this?! Why did he sound like a breathy, dying anime heroine?!
The squirming only coaxed a low, dark chuckle from the Emperor. Just as Kaiser’s knuckles dragged down to slip under the hem of Isagi's compression shirt, an obnoxiously loud ringtone nuked the tension.
Yes, the game’s logic actually mandated standard-issue smartphones. Why did a locked-down training facility need open cellular networks? So the characters had a convenient mechanic to text each other for midnight hookups, obviously!
The music blasted down the empty corridor. It was the aggressively cheerful, hyper-pop commercial jingle. An absolute, unmitigated mood killer.
Kaiser froze, short-circuiting as his romantic climax violently collided with corporate advertising.
Right on cue, the heavy door to the adjacent weight room swung open. Barou Shouei stalked out into the hall, muttering aggravated curses at his own vibrating screen.
Hearing the idiotic jingle, Barou halted. He slowly turned his head. The second his red eyes locked onto the scene, the air pressure in the corridor plummeted to sub-zero.
"Hey, you blond mop-head. What the hell do you think you're touching?" Barou snapped, his voice a low, lethal growl. "Donkey, what's wrong with your legs?"
"Tch."
The cinematic atmosphere thoroughly destroyed, Kaiser dropped his hand in disgust. He shoved past them, stalking down the hallway. He threw one last, venomous glare over his shoulder—his blue eyes burning with an intense, agonizing cocktail of frustrated lust and hatred.
Slumping back against the drywall, Isagi practically wept with relief.
Perfect! Using Barou Shouei as a human shield really is the perfect solution! As expected of the roster's only hardcore gym rat—a total background NPC with absolutely zero sex event flags!
"Barou, you're a lifesaver—woah?!"
The drug’s vertigo hit hard. Isagi pitched forward, face-planting directly into Barou’s soft pectorals. His legs completely flatlined.
Instead of shoving him into the dirt, the King simply grunted, bending down to hoist Isagi effortlessly over his broad shoulder like a sack of sports equipment.
"How the hell are you supposed to train looking like a half-dead fish?" Barou grumbled, adjusting his grip on Isagi's thighs. "I'm dumping you in the infirmary."
Isagi let out a breathy, thoroughly exhausted sigh, dangling upside down. "Yeah, okay…"
04
Isagi Yoichi groggily blinked awake on the sterile infirmary bed. The moment his eyes adjusted to the dim fluorescent light, registering the human-shaped shadow looming directly over him, he aggressively wished he could just lose consciousness again.
He forced his mounting panic down and squinted. It was Ness. The guy was glaring down at him with completely unhinged eyes.
What the hell is the age rating on this eroge?!
Ness was Kaiser’s canonically loyal lapdog. In the original lore, he treated the protagonist like contaminated dirt. Almost every Bad Ending involving him only triggered because the protagonist accidentally drifted into Kaiser's proximity, sending Ness into a rabid, jealous death spiral.
Isagi couldn't fathom what kind of twisted, anti-social vendetta the indie developer harbored to code a game like this. He also desperately needed to know if the creator was actually one of his real-life anti. Why else would they hijack his exact face and body data for the protagonist's sprite?
Refusing to waste a single frame, Isagi opened his mouth to scream for a referee. Or, you know, security.
But Ness had pre-buffed for this encounter. He violently shoved a wad of medical gauze into Isagi’s mouth, instantly nerfing his desperate shouts into muffled, helpless whimpers.
Pure fury spiked in Isagi's veins. As his core muscles flexed for a kick, he realized Ness had already secured his ankles to the metal bedrails with heavy-duty restraint straps. He was completely pinned.
What the absolute hell is the security budget in this facility?! And where do you even loot restraint straps in a sports clinic?!
A deeply unsettling smile warped the corners of Ness’s mouth. Slowly, with deliberate gentleness, his pale hands slithered around Isagi’s throat.
"Yoichi... you ungrateful little pest. Just who do you think you are?" Ness’s voice was an ice-cold whisper, dripping with a sick, cloying obsession. "Kaiser is the absolute ruler of this team. He is a breathing miracle... Yet an insignificant bug like you dares to pollute his vision. What gives you the right to make Kaiser look at you like that? What gives you the right to steal his focus?"
I knew it! Isagi internally screamed. The game doesn't involve any kinds of consent!
In the original game mechanics, if the protagonist shared even a single, completely innocent dialogue prompt with Kaiser, Ness would physically spawn like a glitchy patrol mob to deliver a bizarre, jealous monologue. If the player actually triggered a sex event, Ness escalated straight to torturous, non-consensual Bad ending until the protagonist became a broken ragdoll.
Isagi’s brain redlined, calculating the variables. Back in the corridor, Kaiser had literally assaulted him against his will! Why was Ness already spiraling into his yandere phase over a negative affection event?!
Ness's thumbs rested heavily against his pulse. He wasn't squeezing yet, but the chilling skin-on-skin contact screamed a massive, flashing warning indicator. If Isagi didn't break this grapple instantly, he was plummeting straight into an unskippable cutscene.
"Mmph! Mmm-ph!" Isagi thrashed wildly. Bound and gagged, all he could do was shake his head in violent, aggressive denial.
Through Ness’s twisted filter, the sight was pure intoxication. The dark-haired youth, pinned to the pristine white sheets, had tears of physical frustration prickling the corners of his eyes. Those brilliant, analytical blue eyes—usually so infuriatingly calm—were now violently trembling.
And it was all because of him.
Ness felt his lungs burn, his breathing growing ragged.
Of course he was jealous, but the true target of that venom was blurring. Initially, he was undeniably furious that Kaiser kept running Isagi's name on his tongue. He loathed this little clown for disrupting Kaiser's 'impossible miracles.'
But somewhere along the line, the script had flipped. Ness found himself physically unable to tear his own gaze away from Isagi Yoichi.
He watched the way Isagi pushed his stamina bar to the absolute limit during the match, drenched in sweat. He watched the chilling, tactical composure Isagi maintained, always carving out a path for a goal. He stared into those blue eyes that seemed capable of devouring any illusion.
To his absolute, sickening horror, Ness realized he had started to find Isagi’s sheer, naked ego even more dazzling than... than Kaiser himself.
He had watched Isagi clash with his rivals, crack jokes, and seamlessly command the field. That unwavering, gravitational pull felt like a direct mockery of the subservient creed Ness had built his entire existence upon. It proved that existence wasn't purely about clinging to a master or dominating the weak.
Isagi was supposed to be a clown, yet he wielded a magic that eclipsed the Emperor.
Ness’s fingers abruptly tightened. A ragged chuckle spilled from his lips. "I'm going to break you completely. That way, you won't ever show up in front of Kaiser again... That way, you won't ever look at anyone but me."
Ness slowly lowered his head, invading Isagi's personal space. He wanted to taste that raw, unfiltered fear. More than anything, he wanted to leave a bloody, brutal brand of his own making on those lips that always spoke with such infuriating authority.
What the hell do you mean 'break me completely'?!
Is there no respect in this world?! No laws?! No basic human rights?!
Watching yet another R-18 Bad Ending hurtling toward him like another freight train, Isagi violently shoved his rising panic into a locked box. He channeled the razor-sharp, spatial focus he possessed as a pro athlete. Slipping into a pure combat mindset, he locked onto Ness’s approaching face, waiting for the exact fraction of a second Ness dropped his guard.
The moment the magenta-haired midfielder leaned into striking range, Isagi fired his core muscles and executed a vicious, full-body crunch.
Their foreheads collided with a sickening, bone-rattling CRACK!
"Gwaaaaahhh?!?!"
Ness recoiled violently, clutching his skull. The completely unprovoked brutal head attack had left him dizzy and seeing stars.
Isagi had channeled every single ounce of his physical strength into that strike. His own forehead throbbed with blinding agony, his vision glitching with white sparks.
But a pro never wastes a stun window. Isagi frantically ground his face against the mattress until he managed to spit out the suffocating gauze.
"Help! Security! I need a damn doctor!"
Isagi’s raw, throat-tearing scream echoed down the hall,. The heavy thud of approaching footsteps thundered toward them.
Ness’s psychotic yandere persona had completely crashed. He was utterly baffled that his target would resort to raw physical assault. Clutching his throbbing forehead, the "magician" scrambled in a blind panic, desperately trying to stand up. "Shut your mouth! You Bastard - “
BAM!
The infirmary door was violently kicked off its hinges.
"What the hell is going on in here?!" The on-duty medic stood in the doorway, his face utterly drained of color.
Right beside him stood Barou. The King was holding two ice packs, his brows knitted together in a fierce, structurally agonizing scowl. His right eyelid was twitching violently. "What in the actual hell is this situation...?"
"Ugh... damn it! You absolute bastard, Yoichi! I won't let you off this easily!"
Ness proved surprisingly agile when running for his life. Throwing out a spectacularly cliché, low-budget villain line, he bolted out the secondary emergency exit, fleeing in absolute, teary-eyed humiliation.
"You absolute donkey. What the hell kind of flags are you triggering with these lunatics?!" Barou demanded. He grumbled a string of aggressive curses under his breath as he swiftly yanked the restraint straps loose.
Isagi couldn't hold back his own exasperated outrage. "That's what I want to know! I woke up tied to a bed like a hostage! The security system in this place is completely useless!"
The massive striker let out a heavy, exhausted sigh, aggressively ruffling Isagi's sweat-dampened hair with a large, calloused hand.
Feeling the surprising, grounding warmth of that rough gesture, Isagi looked up at the only sane NPC in the facility with a genuine, grateful smile. "Still... thanks for responding so quickly."
"...Stupid donkey," Barou muttered. His face flushed a violent red as he wrenched his gaze away.
DLC
The Bliss Lumen had finally hit a rare off-season hiatus after the Neo Egoist League.
Desperate to scrub away the severe, Explicit psychological trauma he’d endured at Bliss Lumen, Isagi Yoichi booked a flight to Europe without a second thought. He fully intended to purify his corrupted soul with a top-tier championship match.
Escaping that cursed facility was supposed to be his ultimate healing arc. A brief, holy respite before he figured out how to log out of this nightmare.
But as dusk swallowed the European streets, reality brutally intervened.
Standing on an unfamiliar, labyrinthine cobblestone road, drowning in the raucous noise of a nearby pub, Isagi made a grim realization. He was completely lost. Again.
Frantically scanning the brickwork for a street sign, his eyes caught a lone wooden bench at the mouth of a dimly lit alleyway. A man sat there, baseball cap pulled low, quietly eating a pastry.
Bathed in the sallow, flickering glow of the streetlamp, the stranger radiated a perfectly harmless NPC aura. Dressed casually and half-melted into the shadows, he looked like a standard, localized background asset.
So, Isagi cautiously approached.
"Um, excuse me," he started, cobbling together his heavily accented English. "Could you point me to the subway station for the Central Arena?"
The man paused. He tilted his head up, flashing an effortlessly gentle smile. "Hmm? Are you lost?"
The moment the streetlamp fully illuminated the stranger's face, Isagi’s lungs seized.
It was an impossibly recognizable face. Despite the warm, welcoming smile, a brutal, cross-shaped scar violently slashed across his cheek.
Bunny Iglesias.
Isagi’s brain instantly flashed to the Bliss Lumen Expansion Pass ads that used to plague his timeline. Bunny Iglesias was the DLC’s flagship interest character, plastered dead center on all the promotional art.
Why?! I didn't even buy the DLC!
Why the hell were paywalled characters rendering in the middle of a random European street?! Did this broken server have absolutely zero spawn logic?!
Navigating the subway was instantly deleted from his priority list. His survival instincts hijacked his nervous system, forcing him to violently pivot and bolt.
“Oops." A hand clamped shut around his wrist. The chilling, distinctly unnatural body temperature of the grip made Isagi’s entire skeletal structure lock up. A paralyzing static washed over his scalp.
He yanked his arm hard. The grip wasn't painful, but the force was perfectly calibrated. He was completely hard-locked in place.
Still seated on the bench, Bunny gave a casual tug, reeling the striker down onto the seat beside him. He leaned in, bringing that scarred, handsome face completely past Isagi's personal boundaries.
Bunny blinked with wide, innocent eyes. "Why did you try to run the second you saw me? Am I that scary? That hurts. I always thought I looked good?”
"N-No!" Isagi stammered, frantically slapping a calm facade over his terror as a bead of cold sweat slid down his neck. "My phone's GPS just reconnected! I don't need to bother you!"
“Oh…don’t be scared. I’m not gonna eat you. And You’re clearly a tourist; you need help,” Bunny chuckled. The sound was bright, ringing with pure amusement. "The subway to the Central Arena? Just head straight south.”
The youth immediately released the grapple, beaming at Isagi with a radiant smile. Yet, hidden in the brim's shadow, his eyes were completely dead. Paired with the sweet smile, the visual was a masterclass in psychological horror.
"Th-Thank you!"
Feeling like he’d just survived an execution event, Isagi spat out a frantic thank you. Running as if the devil was clipping his heels, he sprinted relentlessly in the direction Bunny pointed, never once glancing back.
Thirty minutes later, Isagi was standing in the middle of absolute nowhere.
When he finally flagged down a bewildered patrol officer and used a translation app to verify the Central Arena's coordinates, Isagi’s jaw hit the pavement.
That DLC characterhad pointed him in the exact opposite direction. He’d deliberately lied to trick him
!
—Of course!!
Isagi suddenly recalled the official promotional text for Bonnie's DLC drop: 'Beneath a gentle smile, the innocent malice bleeds. On the path to chase his tenderness, be careful not to plummet straight into hell.'
How had the brain-rotten forum users reacted to that announcement?
"I'm totally here for the two-faced psycho!! Please fuck the protagonist!!"
"The contrast of being sent to hell by a smiling pretty boy is top-tier! Take my credit card!"
Isagi genuinely couldn't comprehend the twisted logic of this game's player base. Surviving this game had already given him crippling PTSD. He had absolutely zero clue what R-rated horrors were coded into the DLC, but he desperately prayed that he would never spawn near that man again.
Meanwhile, back at the pub's alleyway, Bunny remained stationed on the bench. He was in exceptionally high spirits, casually humming a light, bouncy melody into the night air.
The youth swallowed the last bite of his pastry, swiping a smudge of jam from the corner of his lips with a pale thumb.
Truthfully, it wasn't like he didn't know who the little lost tourist was. Isagi Yoichi had been blowing up his social media feeds lately—even if he was usually scowling right next to Michael Kaiser.
Bunny replayed the dark-haired youth’s visceral reaction.
The moment he’d grabbed that wrist, he’d felt the exquisite, paralyzing tension locking up the boy's muscles. Those round blue eyes had been swimming with raw panic. Isagi had reacted exactly like a terrified, puffed-up stray cat, desperately trying to bluff its way out of a predator's territory.
"How interesting," Bunny whispered to the empty street, letting out a low chuckle.