SS Christmas

A story unrelated to the main plot

Transfer complete.

Arrived at Earth's young leaves residence after a long absence.

Power on PC, confirm date.

As calculated, December 24th—Christmas Eve.

Launch game directly.

Logged in as the familiar bald old man, after a long time.

Though, from my perspective, it’s been a while—though in reality, it’s my first time.

I came here today for the game’s Christmas limited event.

Decided on a whim to return to a place I’d sworn I’d never come back to.

Something about it—don’t know why—feels like I must participate.

Normally, it should be D’s role, but he’s not here now.

…Though I can’t believe it, could I be being manipulated by him?

Trying to make me do something I can’t do myself?

No way.

Even if it were, I don’t think he could go that far.

Could he?

Anyway, it doesn’t matter.

Even if that were the case, there would be no particular harm.

Just playing a game.

If it were truly so, slightly—no, considerably—unpleasant, but still.

Yes.

Better not think about it.

Focus purely on enjoying the game now.

Hahoy!

As always, a splendid bald old man!

Gritty, strong, impressive!

High-energy solo defeat of the event boss completed.

Phew.

This boss was designed for raid groups.

I couldn't help but use mental acceleration mid-battle and push to full capacity.

No time limit—so I won—but it took considerable time to defeat.

Incidentally, in this game, boss rooms are managed separately per party. So I’m not monopolizing a boss indefinitely.

Glance at the clock.

Ugh.

Date has changed.

Merry Christmas.

Hmm.

I might as well buy chicken and cake while I’m at it.

Money is available.

Originally from D, but it’s fine to use it anyway.

I’ll borrow his clothes too.

Size should be the same.

Thus, I’m eating chicken bought from a convenience store.

Eyes too heavy to open, so the clerk gave me a puzzled look, but otherwise no issues.

Still, crowded today.

Christmas, I guess.

Parties, drinking gatherings—everywhere.

The lucky ones, I suppose.

I felt I ought to say something like that.

No, I don’t really care either way.

Not interested in romance.

Besides, I’m a god—no real need to have children.

Immortal, nearly eternal—what’s the point of offspring?

Ah, but even gods like black engage in romance, so it’s not impossible.

Romance.

Can’t understand it at all.

I’d be happier just lounging around, eating and sleeping alone like this.

What’s the term for someone like this again?

A widow?