In a small, dimly lit studio apartment, a man sits on a worn couch, his focus locked on the screen in front of him. The only sounds filling the quiet room are the rhythmic clicking of his controller and the occasional exhale of smoke as he puffs on his cigarette, the hiss of air escaping his lips—“pfffffshhh.” The soft glow from the TV casts flickering shadows across the room, but his attention remains fixed, his eyes narrowed in concentration as the game unfolds.

  The man sits on the couch, his imposing figure draped in a bck sweater and matching sweatpants. His muscles, thick and sculpted like a seasoned bodybuilder, strain beneath the fabric, giving off an air of raw strength. But what truly sets him apart is the stark white skeleton mask he wears, its hollow eyes and sharp contours casting an eerie contrast against his dark attire.

  "What's with the narration?" I extinguish my cigarette on an ashtray

  I thought it would be nice to start with a little introduction, especially since we have someone watching us.

  Why would anyone want to watch us in the state we're in?

  I’m not entirely sure, but they’re an important group, so it’s probably best if you introduce yourself and expin what you’re doing to those curious ones.

  “Tch,” I click my tongue. My name doesn’t matter. You can call me what I truly am— a God. The voice you’re hearing is just a part of my brain. Think of it like an annoying D&D Dungeon Master—just as frustrating as it is useful.

  My attention shifts back to the screen. I’m currently pying Elden Pearl, a RPG that has skyrocketed in popurity since it came out, and I’ve gained a notorious reputation there for being unbeatable in PvP.

  It’s the only game I really bother with these days, mostly because of the immense popurity. People actually pay me to duel them, hoping—somehow—that they’ll be the ones to take me down.

  Today, three people have challenged me. I watch them from a distance, squinting to make out their usernames: MikantosStelios, PussyCat88, and GandaGanda. Quite the eclectic mix.

  MikantosStelios He’s using a bleed build, he seems to know who I am, as it’s a direct counter to my pystyle. His bright red katana is overpowered, and his armor is a mishmash—he’s clearly the type who watches his weight carefully for those perfect rolls, a well-banced approach.

  PussyCat88 is more elusive. He hides his weapons, only wearing an angel knight helmet with wings jutting out. I’m guessing he’s a gss cannon, all about speed and damage, probably squishy.

  GandaGanda, the st challenger, is a mage. He’s decked out in armor that boosts intelligence and carries a staff designed for Spell Damage. A typical spellcaster, probably pnning to whittle me down from a distance.

  Then there’s me—decked out in the heaviest armor in the game, holding a massive shield that looks like a Stone Sb. My other hand grips a rge scythe. I run a tank build: heavy rolls, massive stamina drain with everymove i make, and a giant hitbox . It’s the kind of build that most people would call stupid, and when I first started, they thought I was trolling. But that changed rather quickly.

  TheGodlyGentleman:

  K/D/A: 1914/0/157

  I’ve never died. At first, people thought my build was a joke, but they quickly realized it was actually broken—when used right.

  A bell rings, signaling the beginning of the match. It’s a 3v1, which might seem unfair, but the game compensates by boosting my stats, so it’s not a big deal.

  As the match was about to begin, the sound of jingling keychains filled the air, followed by the door creaking open. A tired-looking man drags himself into the studio apartment, yawning as he shuts the door behind him. He looks at me, opens his mouth, and mutters, “Hi.”

  "Hi," I reply, gncing back at him. That’s J—my roommate and best friend, someone I’ve known since childhood.

  He’s Chinese, with dark hair and eyes, His eyes are slightly squinted, the dark circles beneath them hinting at too many sleepless nights. He’s dressed in a bck suit, the blue necktie still neat, a sign that he’s just come from work.

  "Still pying?" He opens the window letting the smoke that filled the room air out and then slumps next to me and watches me py

  “Yeah, those three each bet 50 euros to beat me, so I’m currently making 150....How was work?"

  "Shit"

  "Then just quit. Sving away at a factory isn’t going to get you anywhere. You’re just wasting 8 hours a day doing something you don’t even enjoy."

  "Ugh, I can’t quit. We wouldn’t be able to afford anything if I did. How about you finally get a job? You barely make anything, and all you do is game all day."

  "I’m making 150 right now, and anyway, I’m a god. You really expect me to work? Why would I waste my time on menial tasks meant for regur people?"

  J pces a hand on my shoulder. "Still with the god thing, huh?" He chuckles, then adds, "Don’t worry, I’ll be able to afford help soon. I’m sure they have pills that can help with... whatever this is." He looks at me with a sympathetic expression.

  "Oi you fucker do you sti-" then a bell rings indicating the beginning of the match "Ah fuck stop distracting me" I kick his shin and then focus on the game ignoring him wincing from the pain

  The bleed guy instantly charges at me while the mage in the back mutters an incantation. The gss cannon, however, stays where he is, watching for now.

  As I size them up, it’s clear who my main target is. I start moving my character toward the mage, ignoring the incoming sshes from the katana.

  The katana hits hard, but the mage—casting an incantation out in the open without any protection—is just asking to be taken down. I’m 10 steps away, and that idiot can’t move because he’s locked into his spell.

  He’s casting Violent Laser—a spell that deals massive damage and ignores armor. The catch? It takes 10 seconds to cast. It only took me 7 seconds to close the gap and get within range.

  My character stomps the ground as I cast Gravitational Attraction. The mage and the Bleed Guy are yanked toward me. The mage, clearly startled to be interrupted mid-incantation, tries to roll away. Meanwhile, the Bleed Build—already familiar with this move—raises his katana, ready to block my incoming attack.

  "Ah, they fucked up,” J says, clearly knowing what’s about to happen. He casually starts cutting his toenails next to me while his eyes are Glued to the screen

  “Wait, ew, don’t do that here!” I say, disgusted, before turning my attention back to the screen. Neckce of Love—a buff item that links the life force of all users within a certain radius of the caster. Its intended purpose was to help squishy teammates survive longer by sharing their health with the tank. But there was one major fw with it...

  I grip my scythe and activate its special skill. My character drops his shield, firmly grasping the scythe with both hands, only to drive the bde into himself. It’s one of the troll items I use. The scythe’s only ability is to hurt the caster—it doesn’t buff me, it doesn’t unleash a magical attack, it just damages me.

  The reason this scythe has such a worthless skill is because it boasts the highest stats in the game. But with its massive weight and ck of any special abilities, nearly no one uses it.

  But that doesn't mean its useless

  "Man I still don't get how people fall for it" J says watching the screen "You′re known for this and people still cant find a counter to hit huh"

  "Of course they can't—this shit’s broken! ...But it’s weird that the Bleed guy just keeps taking it. He should’ve seen this coming."

  I start spamming my skill, taking damage with every strike. The mage and Bleed Build are both stun-locked, trapped in an endless loop of self-inflicted pain. Our health bars keep dropping, the numbers ticking down, until we're all below half health. But here’s where it gets fun.

  The Neckce of Love sts for a minute. For that entire minute, our health is linked, and all the damage is shared. But once the skill runs out, something beautiful happens.

  When the duration ends, the mage and Bleed Build explode. All the damage I inflicted is split into three, then divided among the three of us. Even then, it was more than enough. The constant self-damage caused 14k total damage, split three ways—that’s 4.6k damage each. For them, that’s death. Their max health doesn’t even break 4k.

  "Gyahahaha, look who’s failing the vitality check. Imagine only having 40 vitality." I ugh, counting the easy money I’ve just made in my head, then gnce at my health bar.

  My original health was around 7k with the Status buff it was around 10k, but after the damage from the Bleed Build and the self-inflicted hits, I’m down to about 1.2k. I grab a fsk, about to drink it for a quick health boost.

  But before I could do that a white mist filled my screen and a notification that I was unable to heal appeared "huh? a miracle?" I looked at the gss cannon he didn't move the whole game so I forgot about him.

  "Wait did they pn this?" J looked at the screen now with interest I just now notice that he has cup noodles in his hand he seems to have made some while I was focused on the screen

  "Hmm, hard to tell, but it seems like it," I mutter, watching as the gss cannon begins pulling out a variety of items—small swords, potions, bells, neckces, and more. He starts using them one by one: stabbing the sword into his side to boost his damage, downing potions to enhance his status resistance, ringing the bells to increase his magical defense, and wearing the neckces to negate damage. Once he's done with all that, he draws two bright, oversized white katanas.

  “Oh man, I think that guy could one-shot you,” J says, his mouth full of cup noodles. “He’s got just 1 HP left, but with his build, he can easily dish out 2k damage!” J’s voice grows more excited, clearly relishing the idea of me finally losing.

  “Huh? Is this guy an idiot?” I mutter as the gss cannon charges at me. His speed is impressive, considering his light frame. The lower his HP, the more damage those katanas deal, and he even uses Hidden Dash—a skill that teleports him behind me, ensuring the first hit can’t be dodged by rolling. But… I grab an item from my inventory and take it out.

  Poison Mist. A trash item—so bad that I have 99 of them sitting in my inventory. The reason it’s garbage? It only deals 10 damage ignoring resistances. But with him lowering his health to 1, it was more than enough.

  I toss the green bomb, Poison Mist, to the ground, and a cloud of toxic smoke engulfs me. As he teleports behind me, he gets right in the heart of the mist. He dies instantly, a pathetic end.

  “…Couldn’t he have used miracles to cleanse the poison?” J asks.

  “...Yeah, but he just charged in without a pn. Guess he was a noob?,” I reply, teabagging his corpse before closing the game and confirming the money's been transferred.

  “Oh man,” I stretch, my muscles aching from sitting too long on the couch.

  J grabs the remote and starts flipping through the channels, switching the screen to TV broadcasts.

  I watch as J flicks through the channels. These days, it’s mostly just news broadcasts. Personally, I never bother with the news—I get my daily entertainment from Yotobe.

  “India’s trash problem now so massive, it’s coming to life? Stay tuned!” Flick“Is France really what we think it is? A shocking revetion uncovered—” Flick“Russia’s president’s heart of steel melts in front of his triplet daughters? For a cute sto—” Flick“Life on Mars? Alien sightings and more o—”

  “Ugh,” I groan, standing up. “I’m going to grab something to eat. Wanna join?”

  “Nah, but can you pick me up some Energy Drinks?” he asks.

  “ight” I reply, grabbing my jacket and keys. I open the door and step outside.

  I’d like to say a pleasant breeze fills my lungs, but all I get is the heavy stench of pollution. The world’s advanced quite a bit, but the pollution problem still lingers. It stinks. Sigh. I walk down the stairs and gnce at my phone—it’s 17:54, so it’s neither dark nor bright outside.

  I walk through the streets of my neighborhood, and it’s not a pretty sight. Most houses are run-down, and potholes fill the streets. But that’s what keeps the rent cheap. A lot of people move here because rent in decent areas has skyrocketed, making it unaffordable for the average person. Many keep their homes in poor condition, driving the property value down to the minimum.

  I continued walking toward the kebab shop, my stomach grumbling with every step. Feeling the hunger pangs, I quickened my pace.

  Checkpoint

  Suddenly, I heard a distinct thwomp, thwomp, thwomp sound overhead. To my surprise, three helicopters soared by. Now, it’s not uncommon to see helicopters around here, but these were different. They were sleek, modern, and bck, with a design that looked far more advanced than the usual choppers I’m used to.

  It was the kind of look you don't often see, but honestly, I didn't think much of it. My hunger was far more pressing than the sight of a few high-tech helicopters.

  ...Ah, I should probably expin the checkpoint thing. I have something like skills, and just as I think about it, words appear in front of my eyes.

  Skills:

  Checkpoint: Death is not an option for you. Create checkpoints that instantly revive you, pulling you back to life each time you try to die.

  Absorption: Consume someone or something to absorb their skills. You must eat at least 70% of their body to fully absorb them. The stronger the creature you consume, the more you regenerate in the process.

  Godmode: For 10 seconds, you gain the strength of a god! As you grow stronger, Godmode evolves, becoming even more powerful with each use. (Cooldown 24 Hours)

  People would love having checkpoints in life, but I can’t bring myself to feel happy about it. I only get them when something annoying is about to happen and sure enough, right on cue, the voice in my head starts narrating.

  Halfway to the kebab shop, he took his usual shortcut through the alley. Normally, no one would dare venture in when a guy like him was around—muscles bulging, wearing a skeleton mask. He didn’t seem like someone to be trifled with.

  But today, something felt off. Out of nowhere, three figures appeared, blocking his way. They were smaller than him, not particurly intimidating, but they still had a certain air of confidence.

  Dressed in bck hooded sweaters and face masks, they circled around him. Without saying a word, they each reached into their pockets, pulling out knives and holding them in his direction.

  "Oi du Hurensohn, gib dein Geld her." Thug 1 says

  "...huh?"

  "Bist du taub, du Bastard? Gib uns dein verdammtes Geld." Thug 2 slides in while Thug 3 gnces left and right, keeping watch like a lookout.

  I look at Dumbass 1, 2, and 3 in disbelief, then let out a sigh. Oh right, it's German. You probably can't understand a word. Shouldn't you do something about that? I ask the voice in my head, and to my surprise...

  Language of the Gods: We can't have the Watchers confused! Universal comprehension of every nguage unlocked.

  Oh? Isn’t this convenient... Just as I’m thinking that, a knife presses against my neck. "Hey, I won’t say it again—give us your money!" The Thugs look even more pissed off, clearly frustrated by me ignoring them for so long.

  I see, so it automatically transtes everything to English? Well, I know German, so it's not really useful to me right now, but I’m sure it’ll come in handy someday.

  I get smmed against a wall while Thug 1 cuts into my neck, not deep enough to be a problem but deep enough for a little blood to come out. "L-st warning: if you don't want to die, then give us your money!"

  Thug 2, panicked, tries to intervene. "H-hey, you're going to kill him like that! Didn’t we just want to scare him?"

  Thug 1 stammers, clearly shaken. "S-s-shut up! We said we’re doing this, so we’re doing it!" He keeps his eyes fixed on me—well, on my mask, to be precise—his hands trembling, his fear unmistakable.

  Hah, I'm getting annoyed. "Listed here, dumb fuck." I quickly thrust my hand upward, my middle finger extended, and forcefully jam it halfway into his nose his mask unable to block the force of my finger. "Do you really think I'm scared of a little shi—"

  "Ah....." At least that should have happened, but just as I thrust my hand upward, he looked down and...

  "Huh?" Thug 1 looks at my finger with his eyes...well, his left eye, as his right eye has half of my finger jammed into it.

  "Hey, uh, my bad," I say as I grab his head and quickly pull my finger out.

  "H-HYAHHHHHH!" Thug 3 lets out a horrified scream before bolting away in panic. Oh, it sounded feminine, probably a girl.

  U-uuurghhp Thug 2 begins to gag and vomit, while Thug 1 stands frozen, still unable to process what just happened, his gaze fixed on my now bloodied finger, dumbfounded."

  Oh man, I really fucked up. I wipe the blood away on the hoodie of Thug 1.... Shit, what should I do now? I grab Thug 1. "Hey, listen, don't panic. Listen to me. What's your name?"

  "S-Steven," he mutters, still trying to process what just happened. Without warning, I sp his cheek.

  "Listen to me, Steven. You brought this on yourself. These are the consequences of your actions. Do you understand?"

  Steven presses his hand against the spot where his eye used to be, his tears starting to flow. "M-my eye..." he stammers, his body trembling uncontrolbly.

  I sp him again. "Steven, don't try to act like I'm the vilin here. You tried to rob me, so all the bme falls on you. Understand there's no reason to call the—"

  "That's him, Officer! Please, help my friend!" Thug 3 bursts back in, now with a police officer in tow.

  Okay, okay, don’t panic. You’re in the clear. The officer can’t do anything. I’m not breaking any ws, so I shouldn’t get in trouble, right? I only used self-defense so no one would bme me. I'm totally innocent.

  Checkpoint

  I gnce down at the crying Steven in my grip, then shift my gaze to Thug 2, still retching on the ground… all while I'm wearing a skeleton mask.

  The officer’s eyes widen in panic as he draws his gun, aiming the pistol straight at me. "STOP! LET HIM GO!" he shouts, his voice trembling with urgency.

  "Ah, I'm fucked."

  I let go of Steven, turn around, and sprint as fast as I can.

  "HEY, WAIT!" he yells, then mutters something into his walkie-talkie.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. I'm fucked. I'm totally fucked.

  I sprint at full speed, my legs burning with each stride as I dart past the messy buildings. Because of my build, I'm quite fast, so it takes me less than five minutes to reach my apartment.

  But the closer I get, the louder I hear the familiar thumping noises of the helicopters I heard before.

  Why the hell are helicopters parked on my street? As I reach the block where my apartment is, I see the three sleek, modern helicopters I noticed earlier, now parked right in the middle of the street. Their bdes are still spinning, whipping up a fierce wind, and there are even cars blocked off, creating a mess of traffic.

  If I weren’t in such deep trouble, I’d probably stop to figure out why they’re here, but right now, I have more important things to focus on.

  I rush to my apartment, sprint up the stairs, burst through the door, and sm it shut behind me, quickly locking it with my key. My heart is pounding in my chest from the sprint.

  "Huff, huff, huff—J, I messed up! If anyone asks, I never had a mask!" I grab it, ready to pull it off, but as I turn away from the door I just smmed shut, the first thing I see are four red sers aimed directly at me.

  Checkpoint

  "Huh?" The first thing I should’ve seen was J sitting in the living room watching TV, but instead, I was face-to-face with four armed men, their weapons aimed straight at me.

  The armor they wore wasn’t just high-tech—it was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. Futuristic, sleek... and was it moving? I swear, tiny bits of the armor were shifting, like it had a life of its own. What the hell was going on?

  I lifted my hands in surrender. "IT WASN’T ME! IT WAS STEVEN! THAT DIRTY RAT IS FRAMING ME! I’M INNOCENT, THEY ATTACKED FIRST!" I shouted the absolute truth, but the armed men just stared at me, unblinking.

  How the hell were they faster than me? And how did they even know where I live? Oh no... was Steve some rich guy’s kid? Did I just get caught up in some high-stakes mess because of that little rat?

  The armed men just stared at me, the silence stretching on for what felt like an eternity. Then, finally, a voice cut through the stillness—clear and smooth, with a touch of authority. "This is Gentleman, I presume?" The voice came from behind the soldiers, unmistakably feminine.

  I finally gnced past the soldiers into the living room and saw three figures. One man was on the ground, his head being stomped on. My friend J was getting stepped on, grimacing in pain. Through gritted teeth, he screamed at the other two, "Yes, that's him! Please, stop—you're crushing my skull!"

  "Shut the hell up! You're the reason Josephine's mood got worse!" The girl stomps down harder, a vein bulging on her forehead from rage. Her fierce blue eyes lock onto mine. "You... are you a gentleman?"

  "Put your foot away," I say, gncing at J, who’s still struggling under the weight of her foot. Normally, I wouldn’t care about humans, but this guy’s different. He’s a good friend, the one who even made me this mask.

  I turn my gaze to the woman. She’s draped in white—military uniform, cargo pants, and boots, all of it pristine, fitting her pale white skin. Her long white hair flows down her back, and her eyes, fierce yet a striking light blue, are impossible to ignore. She’s beautiful, but she seems to have anger issues.

  "HAAA? What, you want to be next? Want me to put a dent in that little helmet of yours?" She stops, lifts her foot off J, and strides toward me, cracking her knuckles with a threatening smirk. Another vein pulses on her forehead, a clear sign of her rising fury.

  As she stands in front of me, I take a moment to size her up. She’s slightly shorter, probably around 1.70m. At 1.80m, I’m a good 10 centimeters taller—enough to notice the difference, but not by much.

  I pce my hand on her head, gently patting it. "Good job, dwarf. At least you can listen and put your foot away when told."

  "Stop, Irene! I told you not to kill them" Another feminine voice calls out, but I ignore it, distracted by a more pressing matter.

  Right in front of me, a fist hovers just a few millimeters from my face. It's the dwarf’s fist—small, pale, and clenched, veins bulging around it. Then, an intense surge of wind pressure sms into me, causing the windows behind me to shatter.

  I couldn’t even see her move... that woman is insanely unbanced. What the hell is that speed?.

  "But Josephine, he started it! He even called me a dwarf!"

  "Now, now, calm down, Irene. You know how the Germans are. And remember, we’re just guests here, not on official business. Come, sit with me. And you, with the skull helmet, I apologize for my subordinate's rudeness."

  "Tch, lucky bastard," the dwarf grumbles , going and sitting down on the couch next to the other person.

  "And you all should lower your guns. These people are civilians—don’t cause unnecessary trouble."

  "Understood!" The four armed men salute and lower their weapons, but their fingers remain on the triggers, ready to raise them at a moment’s notice.

  I step forward and stop in front of the couch, staring at the person sitting there... Am I seeing double? She looks almost identical to the dwarf, but not quite.

  This person is dressed in pure bck, wearing the same outfit as the dwarf, but in bck. Her eyes are a striking shade of purple, and she wears a bck military hat with a golden American fg on it. Beneath the hat, her bck hair falls as long as the dwarf's white hair. She also seems to be 1.70 cm and is just as pale as the other.... Are they twins?

  Click-cck, click-cck. Only then do I realize the familiar sound coming from her hand—she's holding my controller, not even gncing at me. Her eyes remain fixed on the TV behind me, never once shifting in my direction.

  Curious, I turn around, and what I see on the screen makes my heart sink. It's the familiar game Elden Pearl, but it’s not just the game that’s recognizable—the character she’s controlling is all too familiar as well.

  TheGodlyGentleman has died. TheGodlyGentleman has died. TheGodlyGentleman has died. TheGodlyGentleman has died. TheGodlyGentleman has died.

  She stripped off all my armor in the game and repeatedly ran into other pyers, throwing my character into their weapons, letting the one I cared for so much die over and over.

  TheGodlyGentleman:

  K/D/A: 1914/17/157

  The character I had spent countless sleepless nights grinding for, carefully protecting from death with painstaking effort, was now dead—thanks to some stranger who broke into my house.

  I walk in front of the woman, and only then does she look up at me, a smirk pying on her lips. I swear to myself I’ll kill her.

  The four armed men raise their guns, aiming them at me. Just as I’m about to punch a hole through their heads, the woman speaks, a smile creeping across her face.

  "I am the 48th President of America, also known as the Kaiserin! And you know me as PussyCat88" She dramatically stands, raising her hands in the air.

  "You are the first person in the world to make me taste defeat. A talent like yours shouldn’t be wasted on video games. I officially offer you the chance to join the American military!"

  ....

  Silence hangs in the air, not a sound to be heard, until finally, a voice breaks the stillness. "Josephine, why would you invite a brute like him?" The dwarf protests angrily.

  The Kaiserin ignores the dwarf, her hands still dramatically raised in the air, a proud smile on her face as she waits for my response.

  My fists are trembling. I’ve never wanted to punch someone this badly in my life.

  "You nasty woman" I look at her with disgust, and only then does she lower her hands, tilting her head.

  "First, you break into my house, then you ruin the reputation I’ve worked so hard to build, and now you’re offering to send me to the military to die just because you're upset you lost?"

  She sits back down, crossing her legs, her smile never fading. "Now, now, who said anything about dying? I simply want you to work for me. A man who can defeat me is bound to bring great results. Of course, it wouldn't be for free. The better the work you do, the more money, power, and reputation you'll gain. I can give you everything you desire if you prove yourself."

  "Do you think I'm stupid?" I move my face inches from hers, forcing her to stare into the hollow eyes of my mask.

  "Do you really think I’ll work under a human? Do you really think I would work for someone who's willing to fly across an entire continent just to get some petty revenge?" My voice rises, growing louder with every word.

  "I FOUND HIM!" Suddenly, a shout echoes from outside. Through the shattered window, I spot a police officer with his gun drawn. "Skull mask, dressed in bck—fits the description perfectly! Put your hands up and—huh?" The officer freezes as his gaze shifts to the room, where four armed men now have their weapons aimed directly at him.

  The Kaiserin's smile stretches even wider. "I can handle situations like this with ease... For example, making crimes vanish without a trace."

  "........Do I sign a contract, or...?"

  And that's how it all began... Goddamn it.

  Checkpoint