The scent of velvet violets - not sweat, blood, or dead chicken - filled the room as the lone girl's eyes fluttered open. Her spine sank into mundane softness rather than the expected abyss.
Mochi groaned as she sat up, her untrained back creaking from ten years of NEET-living. The crisp bedsheet rustled beneath her, too clean yet somehow smelling lived-in, as if she'd belonged in this bed for years.
"How fucking kind of you," Mochi muttered through gritted teeth, glaring at the pulsating red UI screen hovering before her face. The rectangular interface throbbed like a heartbeat, its text wreathed in thorned roses just clear enough for her bleary eyes to read.
Not that she felt grateful for this particular user experience.
"Now...where the hell am I?"
Whether from stubborn escapism or speedrunner instinct honed through countless resets, Mochi's analytical mind kicked in despite the unfamiliar luxury surrounding her. Velvet sheets. Linen curtains to the right. Gold-laced carpet leading to a marble-like door on the left. A textbook nobleman's fantasy bedroom.
After dying once already, there remained one dreadful, tropey check. And so, dreadfully, she raised her unsteady arm to pinch her cheek hard.
Pain jolted through her, twisting her unfilled stomach.
...Yeah. She hated this.
The veiled thorns twitched, snapping the last of Mochi's patience. "What, so you can talk too? Should I be impressed you threw me into hell without explanation?"
And what a hell it promised to be - undoubtedly ending with that last-minute demonic bullshit. Fantastic.
"Got it...so I should treat this as a minor inconvenience and be grateful for the trust?" Mochi's sarcasm dripped as she examined her unfamiliar outfit - a short-sleeved suit and loose trousers replacing her usual funky pajamas. Same bony wrists, same malnourished frame, just stuffed into clean clothes that would make her aunt puff with pride.
Her fingers twitched over phantom keyboard shortcuts. New game, new exploits, new equipment. If she was stuck here, she might as well break the system like any good QA tester.
"So you're some advanced AI, right? Conjure me a main menu like the game I played." She clutched her arms to her chest, leaning toward the screen as if to intimidate it. "And make it properly organized."
<...loading...>
Mochi's nervous grin split her face. At least the chatty interface offered some comfort. "Alright, you sentient creep. Main menu. Now."
<...loading...>
Legit-looking, if utterly mysterious. Thanks, Past Mochi, for diving into a new mod blind and getting isekai'd clueless.
She narrowed her eyes, stumbling away from the bed. The lush carpet felt sharper under her bare feet than the system's thorns. "User Info."
The screen flickered hesitantly before complying.
...Did it expect her to tap? Voice commands were faster - that 0.5 second difference could save runs. Or in this case, maybe her life.
(Executioner's Grim Ledger)
STATUS
HP ⟶ 100% (Flesh Unbroken)
MP ⟶ 100% (Whispers Dormant)
Bloodlust Meter ⟶ 1/100 (Calm)
PROGRESSION
Level ⟶ 0 (Worm of the Dreaming Lands)
SP ⟶ 0 (Paths Unclaimed)
CURSES/BLESSINGS
Imprint ⟶ None (Angels Watch, But Do Not Touch)
Skills ⟶ None (Hands Empty, Soul Unforged)
Perks ⟶ None (The Dark Has Yet to Offer)
CURRENCY
Souls ⟶ 5 (Debt Due and Paid)
"An assassin mod with souls? Really?" Mochi scoffed. "Don't tell me it counted the chicken bones."
She wobbled to the window, fingers brushing the curtains. Outside, a three-story drop revealed manicured gardens with flowers large enough to repaint the night sky. The window opened easily when she pulled - one escape route secured.
"System. Explain these souls." She walked away from the window for the door.
<...computing...>
"And what does he sell?" Her hand found the door handle. Locked from the outside, unlike the window.
Vanilla skills...meaning ones she already knew. "System, Lantern Merchant. Now."
<...loading...>
A flickering lantern materialized beside the door, making Mochi stumble back.
"Show-off." She scanned the ghostly blue menu:
Selecting
"Time left?"
Mochi smiled, excitement coiling in her gut. "Where exactly will they enter?"
"Hm. Better intel than Guild Hans." She stretched. With her skills and currency, escape would take 15-40 seconds max.
Her gaze darted between the window and the door. Unlike speedruns, there'd be no resets here. The safe play would be gradual experimentation.
Then...it will be a journey of tug-and-pull between the system and her, where she will be reluctantly forced to kill out of some pity that prioritised others over herself, with the system urging her to be a good host and all that.
A typical trend...not unlike her old life of being marionetted by her surroundings.
"But that's how losers think."
A fierce grin spread across her face, her eyes alight not with resolve or fear, but the electric clarity of a new challenge.