Lonelythree

[WSA 2025 Entry]

[You have inherited The Class Huntsman Of Death.]
......
Deathborne.

A game that I couldn’t stop playing in my free time.  A game that hooked me to the core. A game that I was determined to finish and achieve the true happy ending by hook or crook.

You might be wondering why.

It's because no matter what choices I made, no matter how much I tried, it always ended with a bad ending.

An ending with the protagonist winning at the cost of innumerable sacrifices and being left alone as the last surviving human.

Would you enjoy a movie, novel, or game that ends with only the hero surviving?

Would you like such an ending?

Of course not.

Neither could I.

That's why I tried my hardest and kept trying. Alas, despite all my efforts, I have yet to reach the true happy good ending.

That's why I kept on grinding to achieve a good ending until I got that message.

[Congratulations, player Mr. Per781, for clearing all hidden conditions. You are now eligible to access the hidden route, as deemed by the game developer.] 

[Do you want to proceed?] 

[Yes] [No] 

In the next moment, I felt my soul getting dragged by and my consciousness getting detached from the main body.

Being a hardcore otaku, I knew what was going on. I almost showed a middle finger and screamed, "I will commit suicide in another world if you drag me."

Just then hand emerged from the screen and pulled me into the monitor leaving the room empty which resonated with my last words.

"FUCKING HELLLL!"

The Huntsman Of Death:A Gamer's POV As Side Character

A long shadow stretched across the training ground as I tightened my grip on the sword, my knuckles whitening. With all my strength, I slashed at the air, the blade cutting through it with a faint hum, sharp and precise.

I paused, steadying the blade in front of me. A small chuckle escaped my lips as a thought crossed my mind.

If Reed saw me now, he'd probably start his endless nagging, calling this a waste of effort. And Roderick? He'd just mock me, claiming I was disgracing the sword by not following the traditional path of a swordsman.

I adjusted my stance, holding the sword straight toward my chest, and smiled. They'd never understand. The sword wasn't just a weapon to me. It was something more—something personal.

My mother had taught me how to wield it, after all.

113:The Shadow Of Death