Volume 1 Chapter 3.1

Volume 1 + Chapter 3.1: Encounter, The Beginning of The Story, And Bestowing Blessings Upon Others

Time flies, and now I am seven years old.

Having grown tired of being the “king of the kids” half a year ago, I am now so well-behaved that I seem like a completely different person from who I used to be.

Perhaps due to the authority I had maintained for over a year, even though I am now quite subdued, many of my little followers still gather around me. This has led to a very clear divide within the class.

I am in one group with a bunch of little boys, while a group of adorable girls forms another.

The polarization in the classroom is quite obvious.

Although it wasn’t intentional, the division is stark, likely a result of subconscious human tendencies.

Even the teacher can do nothing about this division, as it seems to be the most appropriate arrangement.

This way, the little boys won’t make the little girls cry, and the little girls won’t go home to complain, which would then lead to parents causing trouble for the teacher.

It could be considered a harmonious and widely accepted approach. The only dissatisfied person is probably me.

I don’t want to be the little teacher managing them, it doesn’t pay, and it’s exhausting.

But my opinion doesn’t matter. When everyone has decided on something, my lone objection is ineffective.

Today is the day the plot begins, and also the day the text box’s “freedom” ends for me.

[This world is a BG romance game called “Elven Song.”  

The character Watanabe Yuu is set as a lesbian side character who likes one of the heroines, [Endō Yuna]. Therefore, the only task to complete is to ensure the romance game’s plot progresses normally while adhering to the character’s settings.  

Failure to comply with the task or complete it will trigger the punishment mechanism, being g*ng-r*ped to death by men.  

The plot officially begins at age 7. Before seven, there are no task requirements, and you may act freely.  

Once the plot begins, text reminders will be activated.]

This was the content of the text box that suddenly appeared in my field of vision when I was three years old.

The text box only appeared that one time and afterward seemed like a figment of my imagination, never showing up again.

No matter how much confusion and disgust I felt, several years of reflection have allowed me to calm down.

After all, humans aren’t the type to blindly believe everything they’re told.

If one day someone, or some inexplicable creature, tells you that the world you live in is a game and you’re merely a side character…

And if you don’t doubt it at all, immediately believe it, and think living in a game world is meaningless, so you just go and die, that would be truly ridiculous.

Having waited all this time for the inexplicable text box to reappear, hoping to catch it in the act, I’ve finally reached the so-called beginning of the plot.

When I woke up this morning, the words [Plot Begin] appeared.

The instinctive disgust I felt in the morning seemed almost fake. As usual, I sat among a group of boys, showing no abnormality, holding a book offered by one of my little followers, waiting for fate to descend.

[Today, two very cute little girls will be joining our class. Let’s welcome them.]

The always energetic teacher announced in a loud, forceful voice, leading the applause.

Following the teacher’s lead, I clapped along, successfully prompting the little boys around me to join in. Once the boys were clapping, the girls, not wanting to be left out, had to clap as well.

Because I took the lead, the teacher expected sporadic applause, but instead, it became loud and unified.

Anyone unaware might think the students in this class were enthusiastic, united, and affectionate, a group of well-behaved children.

Amid the applause, two exceptionally cute girls entered.

At least this time, I felt the teacher’s use of “very” and “exceptionally” wasn’t an exaggerated metaphor.

A girl with gorgeous, fiery red hair entered, holding hands with a girl who had silvery hair like moonlight.

Both their attire and appearances were outstanding.

If the cuteness of the other girls in the class were rated on a scale, they’d probably score six or seven.

But these two girls were overwhelmingly perfect, a full ten, completely outshining the others.

So, whether boys or girls, the entire class seemed captivated by these two.

The boys’ mouths were agape wide enough to fit an egg, while the girls, slightly more refined, could fit a quail egg in theirs.

They looked utterly foolish. My mouth wasn’t agape, and I remained calm, leisurely glancing around.

I treated this comical scene as entertainment, thoroughly enjoying the view.

Perhaps many of these little boys today will begin to understand what liking someone means, what a first love feels like.

As for the little girls, they’ll start to understand what it means to be a princess and the gap between themselves and ordinary people.

Yet, none of this has anything to do with me. Amid the crowd of little “radishes” who are all staring at the two girls, having forgotten to clap, lower their hands, or close their mouths…

I silently lower my applauding hands and pick up the unfinished book on my lap.

Hmm, it’s great that the girl I’m supposed to [like] is so beautiful.

Having reached this conclusion, I think to myself that since the text box has no other requirements, I’ll cherish the time I have left before being occupied by the [liked] girl, treating [freedom] as something that diminishes with each passing second.

Even though I want to catch the text box red-handed, I don’t want to directly confront its demands.

Because if it’s real, I certainly don’t want to experience the punishment mechanism the text box mentioned.

I patiently wait for the possibility that the text box will appear frequently after the plot begins.

After all, on that day, the premises and reminders given by the text box were still within the range of losses I could bear.

Perhaps due to my influence, these little children didn’t remain in that state for long.

At this age, children are at a stage where they like to imitate the behavior of those they respect and admire.

And I seem to have become a role model for these little boys. So, just like with the clapping earlier, the boys here were the first to lower their hands, and the girls, noticing this, followed suit.

Lowering my head to read, the book’s content fully occupied my thoughts.

As a result, I have no memory of what happened after the welcome.

Because my mind was filled with the glorious histories of those heroes, and during a venue change, my body automatically found its usual spot, and I continued reading.

When I sighed in admiration, thinking that those who become leaders indeed possess extraordinary charisma, and closed the book with a conclusive reflection, I noticed a child from another class standing before me.

My little followers around me were silently watching me, and perhaps I should also include the girls under the tree shade, whispering and glancing my way?

Huh? What’s going on?

Confused, I raised an eyebrow and stood up.

[Um… could you say that again, kid?]

I vaguely recall hearing some noise earlier, thinking it must have been this little “radish” speaking to me.

I looked down at the seemingly brave little boy with a condescending gaze.

Standing half a head taller than him, I showed no awareness of being the older one when dealing with a kid much younger than my true age.

I deliberately exuded intimidation through my behavior, as this little boy seemed unfriendly toward me.

The little boy appeared genuinely brave, or perhaps it was because I hadn’t taken action in a long time.

He was very straightforward, looking at me and loudly enunciating each word of what he had said earlier.

[I! SAID! YOU! SISSY! WEARING! A! GIRLY! BRACELET! LIKE! THAT! IS! DISGUSTING!]

The thread named [reason] snapped.

When I regained consciousness, I saw the little kid lying on the ground, bruised and crying pitifully, while my feet were lifted off the ground.

I was being carried.

Held in the female teacher’s arms, I obediently wrapped my arms around her neck, appearing very cooperative with her efforts to intervene.

Perhaps because I’m a child, emotional fluctuations are hard to control, and when they reach a certain intensity, I forget what I’ve done.

I only remember shouting something loudly?

Hmm, my throat is dry.

Watching the other teachers in the class busily surrounding the little boy, I found the situation quite boring. I looked up at the female teacher holding me and said,

[Hey, teacher, I’m thirsty.]

The teacher holding me seemed not to expect such a request and sighed helplessly before carrying me, the little troublemaker, away from the busy scene.

This incident, trivial to me, didn’t cause any waves afterward.

Because my parents’ identities as yakuza members hadn’t changed, the other child’s parents likely swallowed their anger.

Two weeks passed without any repercussions or lessons learned. Today, I switched to another book offered by one of my little followers.

[Hey, hey, hey, boss…]

[What is it? And don’t call me boss.]

Annoyed by the “hey, hey, hey” after receiving the book, I smacked the book on the head of the little follower who handed it to me.

[Boss, can you understand these books?]

The little follower asked an unexpected question. What’s the point of this?

His eyes shining with something called [“anticipation”] made me instinctively take a step back.

[I can understand them. Why?]

[Wow!!!!! That’s great!!!!! I knew the boss could understand!!!!!]

Having received his answer, the little follower dashed like a little rocket to where many other boys were standing, boasting triumphantly.

I didn’t understand what there was to show off about. I opened the book, intending to read.

But the next second, the book was snatched from my hands by the same little follower who should have run off, the one with a docile personality.

Have I been too nice to them lately?

A vein seemed to throb on my forehead. I smiled dangerously, giving him a “you’d better have a good reason” look.

Oblivious, the little follower excitedly whispered to me,

[Boss! Today is Kamimura’s birthday. His family doesn’t have time to celebrate with him, so we decided to prepare a birthday gift for him.]

[I heard Kamimura say before that he loves Aesop’s fables the most. Boss, could you tell him some? We’ve already prepared everything~]

The little follower signaled to the group of boys, and one of them came forward, handing over something wrapped in black cover paper.

Wearing the expression of a little ringleader, the little follower grinned cheekily and lifted a corner of the cover paper.

He looked as if he were doing something clandestine. Really, there are too many police dramas on TV, aren’t they corrupting the kids?

Finding it troublesome and feeling disdainful, I pushed aside his annoying face, casually tore off the cover paper, and took out the fairy tale book inside.

Holding the book, I first explained the situation to the teacher. Upon understanding, the teacher quickly agreed.

The teacher immediately arranged the students into two small circles, and I, standing in the middle, was given a special sponge cushion.

Sitting on the cushion, I opened the book and said,

[Hey, Kamimura, come sit in front of me.]

A boy who looked like an easy target for bullying stood up. With his quiet and gentle demeanor, he indeed seemed like someone who would enjoy books.

As for whether I’m judging by appearances?

Even if I am, it doesn’t matter.

Knowing who I was telling the story for, I asked my little follower to bring my water bottle.

After moistening my throat with the water handed to me, I began the story.

[An eagle, ceasing its flight, asked a lion to form an alliance for their mutual benefit. The lion replied…]

I hadn’t read these fairy tales before, so narrating them wasn’t boring.

Speaking for two hours straight was also quite tiring.

But I tried to tell as much as possible, as time was limited, and it was time to wrap up.

Many parents were already waiting outside, so delaying further wasn’t an option.

[Finally, let’s sing a birthday song for Kamimura.]

I quickly closed the book and gave the order.

[1! 2!]

No one found it strange that I had taken over the teacher’s role. They cooperated fully and began singing the birthday song.

[Happy Birthday To You~

Happy Birthday To You~

Happy Birthday dear my friend~

……..]

Kamimura, moved by the blessings, shed tears, sobbing uncontrollably as he lowered his head to wipe them away. The family members outside also wore warm smiles, looking at us children with gentle eyes.

Last year, I was the one being blessed. This year, it’s my turn to bless someone else.

Could this be considered how fortunes change?

[Kamimura, the reason you received our blessings today is entirely because your mother gave birth to you.]

Although there were also reasons involving my little followers, me, the teacher, and others, since I, who contributed the most, said so, then that’s how it is.

Thinking so unreasonably, I adjusted my voice, which had grown slightly hoarse for a moment.

[Our birthdays are the days our mothers suffered.]

[So, Kamimura, remember to thank your mother when you go home for giving birth to you.]

[That would be the best repayment for us.]

Wearing a hypocritical mask, I said with a smile.

Even though my words were completely unreasonable and heavily colored by personal bias, to avoid ruining the warm atmosphere, I casually made irresponsible remarks.

The young woman outside looking at Kamimura with guilt was probably his mother.

This guy must have thrown a tantrum because his family didn’t have time to celebrate his birthday.

Tch, I’m telling you.

Kids are really troublesome creatures.

Even though I felt intense disdain inside, I didn’t show it.

Watching Kamimura run toward that woman, I patted my little follower’s back.

[Hey, take Kamimura’s bag to him.]

[Yes, boss!]

The little follower gave me a military salute, looking utterly incongruous, making me want to kick him again.

But with so many parents around picking up their kids, I suppressed my irritation and urge to hit him.

I left the classroom to use the restroom. When I returned, the classroom was already somewhat empty.

Holding the throat lozenge the teacher had hurriedly handed me earlier, I tore open the packaging and tossed the candy into my mouth.

[Wow!!!!! Candy!!!!! Boss! Boss! I want some too!]

Having keenly spotted the candy from the hallway, the little follower rushed over, waiting expectantly like a little puppy.

I showed a cruel smile and, right in front of him, went “crack, crack” crushing the candy in my mouth.

[There was only one, and I’ve eaten it now. Still want it?]

[N-No, I don’t…]

Whether frightened by me or facing the harsh reality of no candy, the little follower drooped his head and walked away with his backpack.

Reflecting on whether I had been too harsh, I watched his departing figure with my eyes.

Then I saw the little follower, upon spotting his family, dash like an unbridled horse, leap onto his father, and get carried away on his back.

Hmm, I definitely went too easy on him.

Expressionless, I took another throat lozenge from my pocket and tossed it into my mouth.

[Didn’t you say there weren’t any left?]

[https://ko-fi.com/golden_dragon]