The Protagonist’s Party is Too Diligent – 0
Prologue
I must have been unconscious for quite a long time. When I opened my eyes, I was greeted by an unfamiliar ceiling. It was an old, wooden ceiling, riddled with tiny holes, almost as if it had been chewed by insects. Thick cobwebs clung to the corners. This was clearly not a hospital.
If I had indeed suffered a stroke, as I suspected, it would have been a critical situation, and I would have undoubtedly been transported by ambulance to a hospital equipped to handle such a medical emergency.
A hospital with such facilities would be quite large, and one would expect it to be well-maintained. But more importantly, it would be difficult to find a wooden house like this in the middle of Seoul.
After blinking at the ceiling for a while, I slowly sat up. The bed I had been lying on groaned loudly, its old wooden frame creaking under my weight.
My body felt unusually light. I no longer had the cervical disc problem that had developed from staring at a cheap, low-quality monitor for hours every day, nor did I feel the chronic lower back pain caused by my hunched posture. When I stretched my arms above my head, my shoulders didn’t ache, and my vision was clear even without glasses.
…Yes, my body felt light. It was almost as if I had turned 25 years younger. The problem was, if I were actually 25 years younger, that would make me five years old.
My vision was limited. My body was thin and small, hardly resembling an adult. My hair hung long, reaching my waist. I grabbed a handful, noticing its shiny, jet-black color, which seemed out of place in this dilapidated setting. My hands were not those of a man in my thirties, approaching middle age. They were small, pale, and delicate, with an almost ethereal quality.
“Ah, ah.”
I tested my voice for no particular reason. The voice was so young that I couldn’t tell if it belonged to a boy or a girl, but at least it wasn’t the rough, hoarse voice of someone who drank and smoked.
When I turned my gaze, I saw children gathered around my bed.
Their faces were dirty, and they were all thin, as if they hadn’t eaten properly. They were wearing oversized, old shirts that looked almost like dresses, and they stared at me with their mouths open.
“……”
“……”
For a while, they simply stared blankly at each other, unsure of what to say.
“Who are you?”
The question finally came from the tallest boy among the children, who seemed to be the leader. The language he used sounded like English. Of course, it was simple enough for me to understand… but for some reason, it felt different from the English I usually heard.
No, was it even English?
There was something about it that seemed slightly off.
“……”
Well, whether I understood the question or not, I still had no idea how to respond.
*
Initially, I believed I might have been transported to England during the Industrial Revolution era.
You know, those alternate history settings where someone suddenly collapses and wakes up as someone from a different era. I wasn’t exactly a history buff, but I had read such alternate history novels from time to time. Reading web novels was a great distraction during my commute.
I didn’t particularly care about genres; I’d browse various sites and read whatever caught my interest. Whether it was a subscription model, pay-per-episode, or free chapters, if it was interesting, I would follow it consistently. So, while I couldn’t claim to have proper historical knowledge, I had a basic understanding of the era.
Based on the clothing of the people around me and the grim atmosphere of the back alley, I initially thought it might be the Victorian era, the time when Jack the Ripper roamed the streets.
… That assumption shattered completely two days later, when I saw a battleship flying overhead in the alley.
It was a strange-looking ship, as if a sea battleship had been hung upside down in mid-air. It left a trail of black smoke behind, suggesting its propellers were driven by a steam engine. The battleship was absurdly large, resembling a massive airship with the bridge and gun turrets of an interwar-era battleship attached to its underside. It even had a wooden deck, making it look like you were looking down on a naval battleship from above.
Such a thing would be impossible in reality. Even if the battleship were filled with hydrogen or helium, it wouldn’t be able to carry such a heavy load and fly. Even if it could barely stay afloat, it wouldn’t be possible to actually use the cannons. The moment they fired, the recoil would throw off its center of gravity.
However, that battleship was confidently soaring through the sky, accompanied by biplanes flying in formation alongside it, forming what could be called a fleet. And after seeing that battleship flying outside the window, I knew exactly what kind of world I had ended up in.
I wasn’t entered into one of the web novels I used to read. Well, that made sense; I had never left a single comment on any of those, so there was no reason to be dragged into one.
This world wasn’t from a web novel. It was the world inside a video game. A JRPG series I had been playing consistently for the past seven years.
A game inspired by the British Industrial Revolution, combined with steampunk elements, and sprinkled with the unique flair of Japanese subculture—a game with a cult following among certain groups of otakus.
It was clearly part of the Millennium Corp’s ‘Chronicles of Aetherna’ series.
*
Millennium Corp was a small to medium-sized company headquartered in Osaka, Japan. With only about 40 employees, their games often had poor graphics and optimization, leading players to complain that the visuals seem outdated.
While they have made some progress, their development has been slow. Compared to other Japanese gaming companies that started around the same time, Millennium Corp’s technology was clearly behind.
But that’s what people who didn’t play the games say. The fans of the series were grateful that a new installment came out each year. After all, it wasn’t a game with impressive sales figures, so it wasn’t until about five years ago that a Korean version was even released.
The series had a history spanning about 20 years. Initially, it was released on PC, but after suffering significant losses due to piracy, the game shifted to handheld consoles. Later, it returned to home consoles, and now it’s being released on PC again.
By porting past works to current-generation consoles or re-releasing them for PC, they consistently attracted new users. Even though it wasn’t technically advanced, the series continued to draw in new players fascinated by its unique atmosphere.
Seven years ago, a friend had introduced me to the series, and since then, I had been a loyal fan, purchasing and playing every new installment. As often happens, the one who starts later ends up diving deeper; I found myself importing limited-edition artbooks directly from Japanese online stores, playing the Japanese versions of the games before the Korean versions were released, and even blogging my playthrough strategies. Before I knew it, I had become deeply immersed in the game.
Despite its 20-year history, the series offered a diverse range of worldviews. Titles from the first to the fifth, the sixth to the eighth, the ninth to the thirteenth, and those from the fourteenth onward each featured entirely different worlds. It was like a periodic reboot that maintained the core system. Thanks to this, despite its long history, it was easy for newcomers to get into. And following the epic finale of each world in real-time was incredibly satisfying.
Perhaps that was the reason I got hooked on the game seven years ago.
“……”
Well, that was beside the point.
The real issue was why I, who wasn’t even Japanese, had ended up right in the middle of a Japanese game world.
While posting walkthroughs on my blog, I had criticized the sparse cutscenes and repetitive event scenes and dialogues. I had laughed at setting errors only to delete my posts after realizing they were merely plot hooks. I had even caused a stir on internet forums because I didn’t like a particular character.
…
Okay, maybe there were a few things to be guilty about, but there was no way the game company in Japan had been watching all of that. Besides, it wasn’t even a direct release but a game sold through an importer.
…
Well, no point in thinking about it now.
What mattered most was where and in what role I had reincarnated in this world. And, as if that weren’t enough, I had been reincarnated as a girl.
Given the nature of this world, orphanages weren’t exactly great places, but if I wasn’t in the same one as the original heroine, maybe I could manage. If luck was on my side, I might even be adopted into a childless bourgeois family.
“Sylvia!”
I was looking up at the battleship that had now almost turned into a dot when a sharp voice broke through.
A skinny old woman was approaching me. She held a roughly carved wooden cane and had a hunched back. Her grumpiness gave her a fierce look. For reference, Sylvia was the name I had received after coming to this world. My surname was Black.
Though I hadn’t originally been at this orphanage, I had apparently just popped up out of nowhere two days ago. The staff had checked the records, only to find my name listed here.
Seeing the annoyed orphanage owner grumbling about where I had been hiding, I wanted to ask if she was simply too incompetent to read the list properly, but I held back because I had seen a child get beaten with the cane the old woman was holding just moments before.
If I had the strength of a 30-year-old adult, I could have easily overpowered the old woman, but now I was just a five-year-old child.
“Yes.”
I turned my body towards the old woman, answering as softly as possible.
“A new child has arrived. You take care of them.”
What? Me?
I barely managed to hold back those words. I didn’t like children at all, but it wouldn’t matter here. After all, I was a child myself.
Normally, the head child of the orphanage would have taken on this role, but a kind-looking couple had adopted that child just last evening.
“See, I’m different from you beggars!”
The child sneered at us as he left.
“You’re the oldest here now. Besides, you managed to sneak around without my knowledge for so long, so you should be capable of doing at least this much.”
That was the reason.
The old woman always reeked of alcohol, and I figured that defying her would only get me beaten, so I quietly nodded. I followed the old woman downstairs to the first-floor parlor. There, just like the other children at the orphanage, stood a dirty child, her face covered in dirt. But despite the dirty appearance, the child’s white skin and thick, deep blue hair reminiscent of the sea made it clear to me who the child was.
“This is Claire. She will be living here from now on. Get along well.”
…or else you’ll get beaten. It felt like those words were implied.
The child, who had been looking at me shyly, gave an awkward smile when our eyes met.
…And at that moment, I was stunned.
Claire Fangriffon.
The appearance and the name. They matched the Claire Fangriffon in my mind.
Of course, she probably didn’t carry the Fangriffon surname just yet.
…And she was the last person I wanted to meet in an orphanage.