Otherworld TRPG Game Master

It wasn’t the first time she had witnessed death.

Cicel was a knight stationed on the Eastern Front. A simple statement, yet one that carried the weight of countless deaths. That battlefield was where the Empire’s fiercest battles unfolded.

Soldiers impaled by the writhing tendrils of demonic entities. Knights crushed as dimensional gates collapsed upon them. Comrades forced to behead themselves as their bodies twisted under the corruption of dark magic⋯⋯.

If asked whether those deaths saddened her, the answer was yes. But if asked whether they shocked her, the answer was no. They felt distant and blurred, like looking at a faded black-and-white picture. Death was natural.

How could someone who had never truly understood the value of life feel anything at the sight of its end?

After the funerals, she felt only a quiet bitterness at the occasional gaps in the orderly ranks. Along with the distant certainty that, one day, she would also end up like that.

But now—

“Ah⋯⋯.”

Looking at the red-haired woman lying dead in front of her⋯⋯

Karen’s hair—once vibrant—was now further soaked in red, absorbing the blood that pooled beneath her. The color remained as striking as ever, yet something was missing.

There was no warmth.

The bright energy that always surrounded her had vanished. Though the color still gleamed brilliantly, the atmosphere was deathly still. Not even the slightest movement.

“⋯⋯Karen?”

No answer.

She knew.

She knew Karen could no longer respond. Her heart refused to accept it, but her eyes had already delivered the truth.

No one could survive this much blood loss. The ground beneath her had formed a pool of blood, and her skin was pale without any color.

Holes punctured vital areas. Multiple. The work of someone thorough—someone who had ensured there was no chance of survival.

And her limbs… twisted at unnatural angles. Had it been to prevent her escape? Or had it been purely to inflict pain?

Imagining the agony she must have endured sent a sharp, splintering sound through Cicel’s mind.

A warm liquid trickled from her lips, down her chin.

She had bitten down too hard.

Blood welled from the torn skin of her lips, adding a few drops onto the already gruesome scene before her.

Was she angry?

No.

It wasn’t anger.

Cicel was grieving.

She had only just begun to understand what it meant to live. To paint life in countless colors. To think for herself, to walk her own path—something a hundred times more fulfilling than standing still.

Karen had shown her that.

She thought she could be happier as a diva in some nameless bar instead of wielding a blade as a knight of Yurensto. And she thought that Karen would be there beside her. If not always, then at least sometimes.

She had imagined Karen pursuing her dreams, building a grand stage—she thought she could help her with her singing that she had honed through dedicated practice.

Not in some distant future.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, with the commemorative coin given to those who had advanced to the upper division of the tournament, she had planned to invite Karen to a restaurant to eat delicious food⋯⋯.

But the future had been cut short.

Cruelly.

Should she have gone back with her? Or⋯⋯ should she have held her back whining, like a stubborn child, asking her to stay until her performance was over?

Regret came too late.

Cicel staggered. Her head felt like it was about to explode. She turned in circles, unable to decide what she should do—what she should feel—where she should go.

And then—

A thought took hold.

Karen had given Cicel life.

Shouldn’t Cicel give her life in return?

Crunnch.

A sickening sound, as though something deep within her had snapped.

Just as she was about to make her decision—just as she resolved to tear the culprit apart, no matter the cost—

“Stand aside. The 『Reformist Faction』 will take over from here.”

“Come on now, please move. Blocking the way won’t help anyone!”

A group arrived, swiftly securing the scene, dispersing onlookers, and beginning cleanup of the crime scene. Cicel watched them work for a long time. A long time.

She stood there, unmoving, as they spoke with someone through a crystal ball used for communication. And then, they placed Karen’s body onto a stretcher, draped a white cloth over her, and tried to move her somewhere.

“Wait⋯⋯!”

Her voice barely escaped her lips—an instinctively.

“Miss Cicel Yurensto?”

A voice called from behind A man with black hair and red eyes. His voice had a strange pull that caught people’s attention.

His eyes, his tongue—both stained red, as if soaked in blood. Ominous yet mysterious. Like fate itself.

Though he looked very similar to the magician she had seen in the carriage⋯⋯  at the same time, he felt like an entirely different person.

He spoke calmly with a faint smile.

“I serve as an external advisor to the 『Reformist Faction』—a certain wizard, you could say. I would love to introduce myself properly, especially since I have a close relationship with the Purple Magic Tower Master who shares the same blood with you⋯⋯ it seems we don’t have that luxury of time.”

“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”

“I’ll get straight to the point. There’s a possibility—however small—that Karen Yurata is still alive. What do you think? Would you be willing to invest just ten minutes of your time in this… dreamlike possibility?”

A lie.

Cicel had seen Karen’s body with her own eyes.

The corpse was definitely hers—the body, the appearance.

And yet…

She wanted to believe.

Even if it was just a sliver of hope.

So, she followed the man who looked like a crow.

===============================================================

Just now, I received information that Karen had publicly died.

In this emergency situation—where the main actor had essentially dropped dead in the middle of the scenario—I was rolling around on my bed, screaming into my pillow.

What in the actual fuck.

Pink-Haired Lesbian patted my lower back in consolation. If this had been the old Pink-Haired Lesbian, she would have patted my ass. If it had been right after the Queen Raid, she would have gone for my upper back. This was somewhere in between the two.

“⋯⋯Mima, didn’t you usually keep Karen stored? You said it would be a problem if she died, so you made sure she wouldn’t die in the first place.”

“That’s exactly what makes this so dangerous!”

An NPC who wasn’t supposed to die… had died.

I had minimized Karen’s exposure outside. As Pink-Haired Lesbian pointed out, I had completely canceled her summon whenever possible. While I let other NPCs roam freely, Karen was different.

When she had to make an appearance, I always made sure to attach either Evil God-chan or Pink-Haired Lesbian to her side.

Sure, it left some plot holes. Cicel had come to trust Karen—so wouldn’t she find it odd that Karen basically disappeared for hours between 11 AM and 4 PM every day? But I had decided that was a small price to pay. If Karen died because I tried to maintain realism, it would be a disaster.

The story was nearly complete. If Karen were to be eliminated now, the genre would suddenly turn into a tragedy!

But she had died publicly. In fact, the murderer hadn’t even touched the original hologram. He had simply found someone who looked exactly like Karen, killed her, and dumped the body right in Cicel’s route home.

Try bringing her out now. Can you bring Karen out again when everyone knows she’s dead? He was basically saying that.

This fact only meant that the murderer had come close to understanding what I was trying to do.

Of course, he hadn’t fully grasped my real goal—emotionally manipulating Cicel Yurensto to alter her Metamorphosis, making her a Hero candidate, healing her soul, keeping the Cardinal Faction in check, and gathering intel on Yuna’s sulking

But he had figured out one thing:

I was using Karen to push Cicel in a certain direction.

I had also just received the news that Cicel was quietly mourning over Karen’s (not)corpse.

Poor thing⋯⋯.

As I made a sad expression—

Evil God-chan spoke with a wide grin. Some might call that smile seductive. Others might sense a strange evil charisma. But to me right now, she just looked like a fucking troublemaker.

“Be honest. You planned this, didn’t you? You knew the murderer would eventually target Karen.”

“No⋯⋯!”

“You set this up because you wanted to mess with the tender little knight’s heart. There’s romance in giving winter to a budding flower, isn’t there?”

“That’s⋯⋯ no, you fucker, fix it!”

Honestly, I almost sympathized because I could relate to that kind of romance.

Evil God-chan must have noticed, because her grin turned downright malicious.

“If you’re honestly getting turned on by this, why not just let it play out?”

“This kid—Seriously doesn’t know when to shut up! Shut up you loud bitch!”

“Ack!”

I smacked the back of her head hard. For being cheeky.

She rubbed the sore spot, still smirking.

“Isn’t this a bit hypocritical? You keep telling Cicel to find what she loves… so why are you trying to hide your own twisted desires now? Eung?”

“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”

“Besides── Some people need pain to find meaning in life. If you just delay revealing the real killer—just a little bit—if you encourage that hatred, Cicel won’t live a boring life anymore. She’ll try to live a very long life. For revenge!”

“⋯⋯It’s different, you idiot.”

I replied to Evil God-chan who was excitedly rambling. Fortunately, I had something to say since she too had her own story.

“That boy. The one who survived because of you.”

“⋯⋯Why are you bringing that up?”

“If that kid walked such a painful path—if, in the end, he became an adult who found meaning only in pure, pitch-black hatred⋯⋯ would you be satisfied with that story?”

“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”

Evil God-chan shut her mouth.

Just living isn’t enough.

If you were going to live the life you were born into, shouldn’t it be as vibrant as summer?

I wanted the end of tragedy to be a happy ending.

I needed to reverse this death.

I had to convince Cicel—who had seen Karen’s corpse—that Karen hadn’t actually died.

Let’s think.

In this situation, how can I reconstruct the story from here?

There had been several illusion-based murder cases before Karen’s.

Just as the murderer had been observing me, I had been observing him. Though I hadn’t caught the bastard yet, I had managed to roughly figure out what kind of abilities he had.

I had examined the victims’ corpses.

Though they looked fine on the outside, the insides were completely messed up. Their muscles had been twisted and tangled beyond recognition. Their bones had been crushed and compressed into grotesque shapes. Like they had been forcibly kneaded.

From this, I reached a conclusion.

The murderer’s Metamorphosis—or whatever other special ability he possessed—was body manipulation. He could mold people like clay, reshaping them at will.

That was how he was able to publicly kill my NPCs.

And that meant⋯⋯.

===============================================================

The ‘Wizard’ invited Cicel to the dissection room and declared, with Karen’s corpse in front of them.

“This is a kidnapping case.”

“⋯⋯Don’t speak such nonsense. If you’re toying with me using cheap wordplay──!!”

“No, I understand. It must sound absurd, standing in front of a corpse⋯⋯ But tell me… is this truly Karen Yurata’s body?”

“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”

No, I saw it clearly. The body, the length of hair, everything matched perfectly. But if I was wrong──

Cicel painfully crushed that optimism.

“That’s impossible. There couldn’t possibly exist someone who looks so similar, in this world.”

“Correct. However, the serial killer has an ability that allows them to reshape bodies freely. Using that power, they sculpted someone else into Karen’s likeness before killing them.”

“Such an absurd⋯⋯no, can you prove it?”

“Of course. It might be somewhat gruesome, but let me demonstrate. I’ll reverse the body to the state it was before the magic was cast.”

The Wizard pulled out a small, sharp knife.

Then—he cut open Karen’s leg.

Cicel almost lunged forward, as she saw this horrible desecration of the dead── but she forced herself to endure with desperate patience.

While vowing that if the Wizard’s words turned out to be a trick—if this was all just a cruel game—she promised herself that he would pay an appropriate price.

Cicel watched him with bloodshot eyes.

The Wizard ‘disassembled’ the ‘assembled’ human body.

As he realigned the twisted and compressed bones and muscles, Cicel noticed something unsettling—this wasn’t Karen’s leg. The structure of the muscles, the shape of the joints, even the length—everything was completely different.

So, it was the truth.

Though what had just occurred before her eyes was unbelievable—blasphemous enough to have the Wizard crucified—it was undeniable. The corpse wasn’t Karen’s.

All strength drained from Cicel’s limbs, and she collapsed into a chair.

Hope arose. A faint hope.

Then why?

The Wizard, rinsing the blood from his hands, spoke softly.

“Why would the criminal⋯⋯ go through such an elaborate process? If they wanted to kill, they could have simply done so. Yet, they went to the trouble of disguising a corpse while making the actual person disappear⋯⋯.”

“⋯⋯⋯⋯,”

“As predictable as it sounds, I see this as the work of Dark Wizard. The serial killer’s victims have primarily been tournament participants. It’s likely they were after high-quality sacrifices—preferably in secret.”

With a body left behind, no one would suspect the person was still alive somewhere. No one would consider the possibility of human sacrifice.

“We’re investigating both the murderer’s identity and the location of those who were abducted under this deception.”

“⋯⋯Why haven’t you made this public?”

“Because the kidnapped might still be alive. Ritual sacrifices are usually carried out all at once. If the victims haven’t been used yet, they’re likely imprisoned somewhere⋯⋯  But if word gets out that the trick has been discovered, won’t the perpetrators simply eliminate the sacrifices and disappear?”

“Then why, me⋯⋯?”

It was an indirect request for help.

The Wizard explained it as such.

“You seemed close to the victim. I thought you might be willing to help. If we locate the criminal, I’ll reach out. For now, you may go.”

“⋯⋯Yes. If you find anything, please… I beg you⋯⋯ let me know.”

Cicel bowed her head deeply in request, and stumbled out of the room.

Crazy Wizard silently watched her leave. Then, with a snap of his fingers—

Seuseuseuck.

The corpse on the dissection table scattered into particles.

===============================================================

I thought as I put Karen in front of me.

Karen— created through Illusion Magic—was swinging her legs and smiling innocently as if nothing had happened. Had I programmed that idle motion?

Anyway, I had somehow managed to steer the story toward a hostage scenario.

Cicel had temporarily suppressed her emotions, and now⋯⋯ if an event where she had to rescue Karen from the villain unfolded, this could all come to a neat resolution.

But there were still too many problems. This wasn’t some omnipotent simulation world—it was reality after all.

I couldn’t create a fake murderer and simply act out the role. Fully immersing Cicel in illusion magic would be difficult. An all-out confrontation was beyond my reach, and I probably wouldn’t be able to tank Cicel’s Metamorphosis head-on.

There was also the glaring issue that Karen hadn’t actually been kidnapped. She was right here, safe and sound.

Sure, it would be convenient if she just happened to escape on her own, but⋯⋯.

No. I saw a better way forward.

If the problem was that there was no hostage situation—

Couldn’t I just let myself get kidnapped by the killer?

***

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