HTACS 02

Chapter 02

Let me tell you an old story.

As a child, my dream was to be a character in a game.

Think about it—isn’t that the best profession where effort is rewarded?

Kill monsters, and you grow steadily in proportion to what you’ve killed. Buy gear with gold, allocate skill points, form a party, clear raids. If you work hard, you get rewarded, grow on your own, and make something of yourself—isn’t that a splendid life?

Then, when I got a little older—probably around middle school—I thought it didn’t matter if I wasn’t the protagonist.

The hero is too big a dream. But honestly, even if you’re just the protagonist’s friend, you can ride on the protagonist’s coattails and grow alongside them—no worries about your old age, right?

By the time I became an adult, I thought even being a villain was fine. If you dodge all the death flags and just play the waiting game, you survive. Your life graph can only go up, right?

In short, if I could just get inside a game, I was confident I could master my own fate.

What a sweet deal, right? Can’t hold back—I’d go all-in on that moonshot coin.

I didn’t care what kind of character I became. Honestly, even a first-act boss would’ve been fine. As long as I played my cards right, I could make anything work.

That’s what I thought.

And then—my dream came true.

I was happy thinking I’d become a convenience store owner, got hit by a car, and as a result…

It seems I’ve ended up in the game I played for ten thousand hours.

Now my life is mine. Maybe I can dream a little bigger than a convenience store.

A department store section manager, maybe? Wow, holy shit, that’s a total life turnaround. Is that even possible?

—

“Defendant Wolfram von Lohengrin. I hereby strip you of all privileges within the Academy, including the position of Student Council President.”

But—

It wasn’t meant to be.

Even inside the game, fate thoroughly deceived me.

An extra who exits in the prologue, unable to become even a third-rate villain. An event character who never appears in the main story.

A piece of trash with five minutes left to live.

Isn’t this a bit much?

—

The student council president’s office, lights off, in the dead of night.

Before me, seated on the throne that claims to be the pinnacle of the Hundred Thousand Academy, stands a single girl with conviction. Behind her, as if guarding her, three figures stand at attention, glaring at me.

On my side, there’s no one. I just sit on the throne, gazing at her. My indifferent look seems to irk her—she thrusts out an imperial decree stamped with the Emperor’s seal and shouts.

“Defendant Wolfram von Lohengrin. I hereby strip you of all privileges within the Academy, including the position of Student Council President.”

Despite the hatred, rage, and contempt mixed in, her elegant and beautiful face remains unmarred. I recognize that face and voice, and so I find myself deeply impressed.

D/Z SAGA—the game I staked my life on, clocking in ten thousand hours of playtime. The game my convenience store boss hyung mocked me for still playing.

Right there in front of me stood the main heroine of the “Imperial Route”—Eve von Lohengrin.

“…Eve.”

“Do not call me by that name! Wolfram!!”

“Wolfram? Are you referring to me?”

“Who else would it be? You disgrace to the Imperial Family!”

The vivid presence of a comrade I’d crossed the line of death with thousands of times.

The protagonist Kelter, the princess Eve, and countless other companions. But this world, while being the game I loved, also filled me with a horrifying sense of dissonance.

I am not Kelter—I am Wolfram von Lohengrin. A third-rate villain.

How third-rate? I’ve become a trash character who doesn’t even appear in the main story of D/Z SAGA.

According to the setting, I’m the “source of all evil.”

The game’s stage—Zeppelin Academy, a school-city housing a hundred thousand students. I served as student council president, but Wolfram was incompetent to the point of cringe, cowardly at heart, a bloodline-obsessed authoritarian, and at the same time, a piece of trash with not a single talent. He looked down on commoners, scorned nobles, bribed professors to manipulate grades, docked other students’ exam scores, and when at risk of exposure, used puppets to expel and silence them. Embezzlement? That’s standard procedure.

A tyranny carried out solely on the authority of being the Emperor’s son. As a result, the Magic Department and Knight Department, which divided the Academy, came to hate each other, and the Academy’s atmosphere completely died.

And he indulged in extravagance. Collected legendary swords he couldn’t even wield, hoarded magical garments, and obsessed over grimoires he could never learn.

He got scammed so badly—how did he even fall for that? He once bought a 9-tier spellbook for 1,000,000 rin.

After spending and spending until he finally laid his hands on the Imperial treasury’s heirlooms, I had to bear the Emperor’s solemn wrath directly, and was stripped of the student council presidency.

And according to the original setting, the lines that follow are obvious:

*’Hmph. You cannot expel me. I will leave on my own two feet.’*

*’You will not be able to bear it—the darkness of this Academy…’*

*’Do not regret this. I will return!’*

That’s the prologue.

And five minutes later, Wolfram meets a gruesome end.

*’You—because of you, because of youuuuu!! You said if I trusted you, you’d—you’d let me graduateee!! Die! Die! DIE!!’*

*-Cu…ghk. …A piece of trash… like you…*

He dies. Killed by the very subordinate he’d thrown under the bus and gotten expelled—stabbed by that guy’s blade.

But oddly enough, he keeps his promise.

Our Wolfram—he reappears in Act 5.

As a zombie.

*Grrr… ughhh…*—appearing in the Student Council Room Invasion episode. On the Imperial Route, he especially appears before Eve…

*’Ke-Kelter, I—I can’t do it.’*

*’Eve! Swing the holy sword now! That’s not your brother!’*

*’Kelter!’*

*’Eve!!’*

*-Graaaaahhh-*

*’Wolfram—no, Brother Wolfram… Rest in peace. Farewell.’*

*-…Tha-nk… you…’*

*Swing*—the holy sword takes his head clean off.

A zombie matchmaker who strengthens the bond between the protagonist and Eve! And that’s where his biography truly ends. He even found his little sister a match—how magnificent, Wolfram!

His dying words were “thank you”—how laughable. *Thank you*, you son of a bitch!

And now, I finally understand exactly what my reality is, what situation I’m in.

Seriously? I die in the next scene? That’s it? Kicked out of the Academy and stabbed to death—that’s the end?

“Wolfram von Lohengrin. This is my final mercy. Leave the Academy and live quietly.”

“…You would expel me?”

“Yes. I’ll say it once more—by imperial decree, your student council authority and all privileges are hereby stripped from this moment onward.”

“Hah.”

I laughed. Or rather, I pretended to laugh. Gotta keep up appearances to buy some time to think.

What do I do? This looks genuinely bad. Is there no way out?

“Stripped… stripped, you say.”

“Yes.”

“Stripped, I see.”

“Correct.”

“……”

No.

Wait.

Just wait a moment, would you?

We can still resolve a lot through conversation, can’t we?

Let’s not rush the response. Okay?

“Hurry up and get lost, Wolfram!”

“……”

What should I do?

If I follow the original script here and deliver a sick line like *’You will not be able to bear it—the darkness of this Academy…’* and walk out, I’ll get stabbed right away.

To avoid that… to survive…

Ah. Ah, wait. Didn’t that brat Eve say… “stripped”?

“Didn’t I tell you to leave the Academy? Wolfram!”

“No. I cannot do that. I will not leave.”

If it’s “stripped,” that changes everything.

“…What?”

“Read the imperial decree again, Eve von Lohengrin. Where does it say I’m expelled?”

“……Eh? B-but it says ‘stripped’ right here!”

“Yes. It says: ‘Strip Wolfram von Lohengrin of all privileges, including the position of Student Council President.’ Correct?”

“Uh, uh-uh… Then!”

“The next student council president—do you remember Zeppelin Academy Regulations, Article 1, Clause 8?”

“…Huh? Wait, Article 1, Clause 8. C-clause 8?”

Just as I thought, Eve. The diligent, nerdy scholarship student. You had that long, garbage list of provisions memorized, didn’t you?

Of course, I have them all memorized too. Because I played this game like a nerd for that long!

Hey there, fellow nerd! Nice to meet you!

Now then.

Zeppelin Academy, Article 1, Clause 8:

[Every student of Zeppelin, from the moment of enrollment, holds as a fundamental right their status as a student of the Academy.]

[All Academy students, excluding the Student Council President, are equal under the school regulations.]

“In other words, being a student isn’t a privilege—it’s a right and a duty of enrolled students.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“I’m saying I’ll go back to being a regular student. All privileges? I’ll return them. But in exchange, you cannot infringe upon my rights and duties either.”

“…What did you say?”

“In short—stop bothering me and get ready for the next student council.”

“There’s no way!”

This time, it was a female student beside Eve who shouted.

“What do you mean?”

“Stripping all privileges means taking away all the wealth and authority you’ve enjoyed until now! The premium room at Glastheim Dormitory, the eighty million shillings you received every month, even the student council–affiliated accounts, the special grading favoritism you enjoyed for your credits—there’s no way you’ll survive in this Academy! You don’t even know how harsh that path is, so don’t run your mouth so easily!”

Only then did I stare intently at the girl’s face. Pretty sure that’s her name—Sylvia. Eve’s guardian knight and the next student council secretary. She was also a good senior to the original protagonist, Kelter, and a commoner.

“You think I, a member of the Imperial family, can’t endure that?”

“…Of course!”

“And what if I can?”

“Huh?”

“…What if I can, I said.”

“Th-that’s…”

“Are you confident?”

“…No, not really.”

“Then why did you speak?”

“W-well, I…”

“Apologize. I can do it. Don’t rashly judge another’s capability by your own standards.”

“I’m sorr—” “Don’t apologize, Sylvia!”

Eve glared at me with seething eyes, and Sylvia fell silent.

“Don’t be so angry, Eve von Lohengrin. I didn’t even slap you with a charge of insulting the Imperial family, did I? Don’t you know? Every student of Zeppelin is equal before the school regulations.”

“…Wolfram. You snake-tongued bastard!”

I chuckled, and Eve exploded in anger. Guess I’ve teased her enough.

“Fine. Congratulations, Eve. Your rebellion has succeeded. From now on, that seat is yours.”

“……!”

I rose from my seat and stood before Eve.

Ten thousand hours of playtime. In that time, I’ve taken her route just over four hundred times, if memory serves? Having seen her face every single playthrough, I’ve grown somewhat fond of her.

But I mustn’t get close now. No—I have no intention of getting close.

Now then—you all live freely. Break the story a bit, see some endings, save the world while you’re at it, have some youthful adventures. Got it?

“I will live—seeking my own freedom.”

“…What are you saying?”

“If you can’t understand, you don’t have to.”

Oh, but now that I think about it, this bastard Wolfram has one hell of an ego with every word he says. Probably a racial trait of the Imperial family, or just his character. Anyway.

“At last. I can become free.”

“…Wolfram von Lohengrin. Within this Academy, there is no freedom for you.”

“No, there is. I know the way.”

“……”

“That chair is heavy, Student Council President.”

With that, I rose from the student council president’s chair and brushed past Eve’s back. Before her violence could strike me down, I slipped out of the student council room.

I heard something roar from behind me, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m sorry I’m an oblivious bastard who should have disappeared before the main story even began—truly.

But I need to survive too.

What can I say.

You go ahead and shine bright in this school.

As for me—here’s how I’ll live from now on.

“Maybe I’ll just be the convenience store owner I never got to finish being.”

Roughly. Comfortably. Living how I want to live.

I’ll just keep dreaming the dream I couldn’t finish.