Pain, So Much Pain

Games are designed in a way that the first level is easy, just enough to keep the player hooked. Games where they place boss-level enemies in the beginner village? Yeah, those don't exist in this world.

The man in the trench coat controlled the small red plane. To him, the plane on the screen looked like a giant red bird, and its enemies were other birds, gray ones, not too different from his own.

The red bird fired strange beams of light, long and narrow like sticks. These beams, when launched, would explode upon hitting the gray birds, causing them to blow up.

The beams seemed like some kind of explosive, but the man in the trench coat didn't dwell on it for long. After all, it didn't really matter to him.

The red plane moved across the screen—back, forth, left, and right. Under his control, the gray birds were shot down one by one.

The enemy flyers tried to fight back, but their short-range shots couldn't hit his plane, so they were quickly destroyed. As the level completion music played, a slight smile of satisfaction spread across the man's face.

Aside from the flying enemies, there were also some ground-based ones. They were far clumsier. Despite attacking from unusual angles and places, their attacks were much too slow to pose a threat to him.

Too slow, much too slow.

The controls were simple enough.

A feeling of satisfaction, even pride, began to rise within him. As the music of the first level's completion played, the man in the trench coat even hummed a little tune, his mood noticeably improving.

But the second level wasn't quite the same as the first. The man had been playing casually from the beginning, but now he had to focus his complete attention on the game.

After clearing the second level, the third began. With each successive level, the difficulty grew significantly.

Finally, the music of game over played.

At the same time, a small, unclear static noise came from the machine, loud enough that even the crowd behind him could hear it:

"Game Over!"

Along with the failure music and the mechanical voice came a few large English letters on the screen. Even though the letters weren't in this world's language, it didn't take a genius to understand that they spelled out Game Over.

The blood-red characters splashed across the screen, almost as if they had been slapped onto it with force, accompanied by loud, mocking sound effects. But for the machine, this was just another notification.

It was the first game over. The man stared at the screen for a long time before snapping back to reality when the impatient voices around him urged him to step aside.

Somehow, a large crowd had gathered behind him, made up of various species. Their eyes were fixed on the failure screen, and they laughed at him mercilessly, pointing out his poor gameplay from their elevated positions.

"Look at this dork, couldn't shoot that one lame bird."

"Yeah, that looked way too easy. Easier than the previous level almost."

They said he was terrible at the game.

Even though it was their first time seeing something like this, it didn't stop them from criticizing and backseat gaming, pointing out every mistake he made.

This filled the man with fury. A wave of rage surged from his chest, almost ready to burst out.

The Game Over on the screen wasn't just telling him he had lost the game—it was reminding him that his entire life was a failure. All the good mood he had just built up vanished in an instant, replaced by a bitter realization: 'Yes, you've failed in life. But don't worry, that's not all, you'll fail at games too.'

Clank!

Enraged he inserted another game coins. Ignoring the voices demanding he step aside, the man declared loudly:

"I'll stop when I run out of coins. You should've gotten here earlier."

With that statement, he let out a deep breath, his mood instantly improving.

'What good is your complaining?'

'The machine is in my hands, and I'm not giving it up.'

Though the level was tough, after dying two or three more times and hearing a few more boos from the crowd, he finally figured out how to pass it.

The music for clearing the level played, and the next one began.

"What's this?"

The man's eyes widened. This time, his plane seemed to have picked up something. Instead of two laser beams, it now fired six—two straight ahead, and four others spreading out in a fan pattern to the left and right.

"Whoa! Isn't this invincible now?"

Someone in the back gasped. Had his plane been powered up?

Wouldn't this let him breeze through the levels now?

"How many levels are there?"

"No idea."

"Wait, look, what's that?"

Someone turned their attention back to the screen and noticed something new.

Although his plane now had multi-directional shooting capabilities, the opponents' firepower had also increased. With the changing surrounding, it became evident that the plot was progressing, and the enemy's attacks were becoming more intense. Beams of light and energy orbs began to move erratically across the screen, moving in random, zig-zag patterns.

Soon, a big wave of enemy planes and turrets came rushing. The erratic energy orbs now covered the entire screen, forcing the man's plane to desperately dodge between the gaps.

But in the end, he was hit.

His plane exploded, and the strange failure music began playing again. The sound was comical, practically mocking the player for being a fool.

"Game Over!"

The man's eyes were burning with frustration.

"Sigh It's getting harder and harder. How can they attack from that angle?"

"Practically, the whole screen is covered with bullet. How is anyone supposed to pass this? It's impossible."

The man scratched his head in frustration, while the crowd behind him started shouting:

"Let me try. I can beat this level, I swear."

"I can too. To be honest, I'm a skilled hunter. Dodging those attack patterns is second nature to me."

"Here's a silver coin. Get off the machine already."

The man gulped, but his desire to keep playing had fully taken hold of him. The strange melody from the game seemed to taunt him, so he silently started again, giving the surrounding no mind.

However, this level was nearly impossible. By the time he got to the later stages, the screen was filled with chaotic enemy planes and countless beams of light, making it practically unmanageable.

After struggling time and again, he finally cleared the level. As the victory music played, a strange sense of excitement surged through him.

Though he had been beaten down over and over again, he had gained something entirely new—a concept long forgotten in this monotone Gray World.

Joy!

It was joy.

There was only pain! So much pain. But amidst the pain, there was undeniable pleasure.

Perhaps this was what people meant by painful pleasure.

"I can't believe it. I've been tortured by this game, yet I'm still playing."

Five hours had passed, and the man in the trench coat had no idea how he had endured it.

For five straight hours, he had been playing this little plane game called Thunderbolt.

Recharge.

Keep recharging.

Your money isn't gone—it's just turned into happiness that stays with you.

"Time's up? Insert another coin? Wait, where's my money...?"

The man in the trench coat reached into his pocket, only to find that all his coins were gone. As for the gold coins, they couldn't even fit into the machine's coin slot.

At that moment, he began to slowly regain his senses, emerging from the frenzy of gaming.

"Alright, enough already. Get off the machine. How long have you been playing? Don't you have any sense of time? Don't you have a job?" someone shouted from the side. They had been growing impatient for hours, and their complaints had drawn the attention of the tavern patrons.

————

'What is going on?'

It didn't seem like a fight was breaking out.

Maya was among the crowd of onlookers, her mind still buzzing with the echo of the god's voice.

She had been watching the trench coat man's every move, and this new game—or rather, this new mode of gaming—made her eyes sparkle with excitement.

"It's already past midnight and..." Turning back she looked at two men standing like statue in front of the tavern, "Security! Can you get him out of here?"

A black iron dwarf, his eyes bulging with frustration from standing patiently for a long time and his beard flaring like it was on fire, couldn't hold back any longer. He yelled aggressively at the trench coat man:

"What kind of grabage gameplay is this? I bet I could have a mutated eight-winged chicken from the dungeon sit on that machine and do better than you. How many times have you died already? If you can't win, stop playing."

Several eager onlookers noticed that the man had run out of coins, so they smugly pulled out various coins from their pockets or ears. As long as it wasn't gold, they could feed the coins into the machine to exchange for game tokens.

"Wait a minute. I still have money. Just one more round."

After fumbling around for a while, the trench coat man managed to pull out one last silver coin. But when he glanced at the crowd, especially the kobold baring its fangs and the muscular black dwarf, he quickly adjusted his tone and, in a sorrowful voice, said to the surrounding crowd:

"To tell you the truth, everyone... my life ended yesterday. I'll be dead soon."

"My dying wish... is to play one last round."

As soon as he said this...

Everyone fell silent, even the kobold giving him a look as if to say, "That's a bit much, don't you think?"

However, the black iron dwarf wasn't buying it. He stormed forward, speaking in the elegant common tongue:

"Stop bullshitting and pack your ass up."

"You were just full of energy a moment ago. You don't look like you were going to die."