Fate always seemed to enjoy cruel jokes. Just when Naohara had finished burying his father and was ready to live a quiet, uneventful life using the card his father left behind along with his accumulated savings, a game that felt both familiar and strangely distant entered his field of view.
Overlord. It was a novel that had been extremely well-known in his previous life. Although it hadn't done particularly well in its place of origin, it had exploded in popularity in his own country.
It was even said that the novel's anime adaptation only became possible because of that popularity. In a way, Naohara himself had contributed a small part to it.
The story itself was simple. On the final day before the shutdown of a game called Yggdrasil, the protagonist Suzuki Satoru planned to remain logged in until the very last moment. Instead of being forcibly logged out by the system, he discovered that he, along with the guild he and his companions had built together, the Great Tomb of Nazarick, had been transported to another world, where a series of events unfolded.
The moment Naohara realized that the game about to be released before his eyes was identical to the one in his memories, a thought took root in his mind.
Follow them into that world.
That was Naohara's decision.
From that point on, he threw himself into the game called "Yggdrasil." From the day the servers opened until now, twelve years had passed. He hadn't missed a single event. Every reward had been collected. His average daily online time reached twelve hours as he nearly drove himself mad grinding the game.
In his previous life, he had rarely spent money on games. This time, he stepped onto a path with no turning back.
Every recharge event, every paid item, he bought without hesitation. With deliberate effort, he successfully befriended players like Touch Me and Momonga in-game and even joined their so-called suicide squad.
Little by little, the money in his card and his savings were drained dry. Naohara began selling off household belongings to keep fueling his spending. In the end, he even sold his house. At Momonga's enthusiastic recommendation, he moved into a cheap apartment. To support both his real-life expenses and his in-game consumption, Naohara began living the life of a corporate slave, leaving early and returning late every single day.
"It all comes down to the day after tomorrow."
Naohara looked calmly at the calendar in front of him, but the excitement hidden in his voice betrayed his true state of mind. Twelve years. He had spent a full twelve years preparing for this moment. Now that the time to reap the rewards had finally arrived, a trace of unease surfaced instead.
He didn't know whether he would truly succeed in crossing over. He knew that all players who remained online at the moment of server shutdown would be transported, yet he still couldn't fully relax. Until the very end, he couldn't be absolutely certain. Accidents had a habit of appearing precisely when you felt the most confident, landing a vicious slap across your face.
"If I fail… I'll probably kill myself."
Naohara calmly calculated the outcome of failure, and that was the conclusion he reached.
He had invested far too much time and money into this. Even as his body deteriorated beyond repair, he chose to ignore it. The only thing propping him up was the day the game shut down.
Compared to drifting through this society in a daze for the rest of his life, he would rather chase that hazy, uncertain future. Before, he had no choice because there was no hope. But now hope stood right in front of him. He couldn't tolerate letting it slip past him. Rather than living with regret and remorse later, he would rather gamble everything now.
"Bang! Bang!"
The knock on the door snapped Naohara out of his thoughts, followed by a voice that slowly reached his ears.
"Naohara, are you back?"
The voice came from the doorway. When he opened the door, a gaunt figure stood before him, just as thin as himself. The heavy dark circles under his eyes made him look utterly exhausted.
The person standing there was none other than the protagonist of Overlord himself. Unlike his appearance in the game, in reality he was nothing more than an ordinary salaryman, ordinary to the point of being unremarkable. The only difference was that he had been lucky enough to eventually cross over into another world and begin a new life.
"Satoru, what happened to you?"
After bringing him inside, Naohara took in the stains on his clothes, the scratches on his face, and the small box in his hand, frowning in confusion.
"It's nothing. I just took a spill," Suzuki Satoru said, glancing off to either side as if it didn't matter. He waved it away, then held out the box. "Forget that. Look what I brought you."
The box was small, only about the size of Naohara's two palms. From the light weight, he could tell it wasn't anything heavy.
Suzuki Satoru watched him with obvious tension. Naohara set the box on the bed and started unwrapping it.
He slowly untied the ribbon and lifted the cover. What appeared inside wasn't what he'd expected at all.
A pure white cream cake.
It was small, but he couldn't tear his eyes away.
Along both sides were bright red decorations like tiny crimson pearls, and in the middle, a neat line of chocolate lettering stood out clearly.
"Happy Birthday to My Best Friend - Suzuki Satoru."
Naohara stared blankly, his mind going distant. Since his adoptive father died, he hadn't seen cake again. He'd even forgotten his own birthday. All his energy had been swallowed by work and the game.
"How did you know my birthday was today?"
He lowered his head. Long bangs hid half his face, making it impossible to read his expression. His lips moved slightly, and the words came out soft, almost like he was asking himself.
"I only noticed by accident," Suzuki Satoru said, scratching his head, looking a little embarrassed. "Your birthday shows up in the friend info in the game, right? So I… kind of took it upon myself to celebrate for you."
They'd been close for over a decade. Suzuki Satoru felt he should do something, especially since he hadn't seen Naohara celebrate in years. He figured Naohara had simply forgotten, so he wanted to surprise him.
Even a small cake like this was still absurdly expensive.
"Worst case, I'll just work overtime for another half month."
With that in mind, Suzuki Satoru gritted his teeth and bought it anyway. For his one and only friend, he wasn't going to be stingy.
Naohara kept his head down and didn't say a word.
The room was so quiet it felt like you could hear both their heartbeats.
"Thank you."
The words cut through the silence. Naohara lifted his head and looked at Suzuki Satoru with a blank expression, but the faint wetness at the corners of his eyes gave him away. He wasn't nearly as calm as he looked.
"Whew…"
Suzuki Satoru finally let out the breath he'd been holding. That tense silence had scared him to death. He'd been terrified Naohara might be angry, that he'd think Suzuki Satoru was meddling. That was the outcome he dreaded most.
But hearing Naohara say it eased his heart at last. As long as it was okay… as long as it was okay…
"You don't have to thank me," Suzuki Satoru said, shaking his head as he looked straight at him. "Isn't this just what friends do? We're friends, Naohara!"
"Friends, huh… Sorry. I'm being dramatic."
Naohara sighed, then smiled.
"Let's eat it together. Cake tastes better when you share it with a friend."
Using the little knife that came with it, he carefully cut the cake in half and brought one piece over to Suzuki Satoru.
Outside, the night was pitch-black. Inside the rundown apartment, the lights burned bright, and faint laughter drifted out.
"Naohara, you bastard! You sucker-punched me!"
"Haha! If you've got the guts, hit me back!"
"Don't run! Just you wait, I'll get you!"