“Notice of Contract Termination”
The slip of paper ended Kujou’s streaming career with shocking abruptness.
There hadn’t even been a prior warning.
In fact, when he’d gone to the agency to explain the situation, they’d kicked him out, saying, “You’re no longer involved.” Confused, he’d returned home, where his mother showed him the notice, and he finally understood what was happening.
“Shin, what’s this all about? Termination of contract… and there are rumors in the neighborhood that you’ve been acting strange lately…”
“Shut up! Don’t go reading my mail without permission!”
“I know, but your mother is worried… Besides, being a Dungeon Streamer isn’t a job you can do forever, is it? You’re getting older, you should find a normal job—”
Kujou clicked his tongue at her usual nagging and stormed into his room on the second floor.
His face was flushed with shame as he kicked a chair, thinking that no one understood him.
When Kujou Shin first heard the term “Dungeon Streamer,” he despised them from the bottom of his heart, thinking they were fools.
“Dungeons” had appeared all over the world.
Humans possessed Magical Power, manipulated Skills, and fought Monsters like in a game—it sounded good, but in reality, it was just a way to use and discard low-level laborers.
It would be better to study normally and get a normal job.
Kujou had always been an excellent man.
Since elementary school, he had been eloquent, achieved excellent grades without studying, and naturally stood at the center of the group, laughing.
He was the type who skillfully targeted the kid who looked easy to bully, making himself part of the majority and always maintaining a solid position in the classroom. He had talent.
—But shadows began to appear when he entered high school.
There were more things he didn’t understand in class.
In sports, he had fallen to around the middle of his grade level.
Until now, Kujou’s role had been to laugh at those who made an effort—but before he knew it, he couldn’t win anymore.
Around that time, his mother started praising his personality instead of his grades.
…Of course, he wouldn’t bother making an effort now.
Kujou Shin was a genius.
Geniuses never did anything as pathetic as “try hard.”
That’s why.
When Kujou failed to get into his first-choice school, or even a safety school—he finally realized the truth about the world.
This world was unfair.
First of all, his mother was bad. Her background was from a low-ranking university, and it was clear that he had no talent for studying because of her bloodline.
His father was also bad. With an unsuccessful, ordinary Salaryman, it was inevitable that economic disparity would arise.
Kujou, realizing that he had lost the so-called parent gacha, eventually became a shut-in without going to college, desperately searching for an environment where he would be properly evaluated by the world—
And finally, he found it.
A world where talent was everything: Dungeon Streaming.
“Turn Your Life Around in One Shot! Become a Dungeon Streamer!”
Dungeons had appeared in the mid-2010s.
With this, innate talent wouldn’t matter—it would surely bring out the true talent sleeping within Kujou.
And in fact—he had talent.
Without much effort, he smoothly rose to B-rank, known as a general Hunter.
After that, Kujou passed the audition for a Dungeon Streaming agency and debuted as a new face in the then-popular streaming group “The Numbers.”
His life would begin here… or so he thought.
The leader of “The Numbers” retired less than a month after Kujou joined.
After that, due to family troubles, the agency split into “Re:Tryz” and “Answers.”
After that, their popularity plummeted like a rolling stone… leading to the present.
“Unfair, unfair, unfair…!”
Resting his elbows on the table and scratching his hair, Kujou cursed the world.
Why was the world so irrational?
Why was he the only one suffering like this?
If his parents were better. If he was blessed with friends. If his comrades were more skilled.
Kujou lacked all of it—
“Damn it!”
Now that his license was temporarily suspended, it was impossible to dive into the depths of the Dungeon as an independent Streamer.
If he forced his way in, he would be arrested this time.
But he couldn’t possibly change his style to something ridiculous like other Streamers—
“…No. I still have a way to overturn this absurdity!”
With his eyes bloodshot from Stress, Kujou grabbed his Smartphone and rushed out of his house.
His destination wasn’t the Re:Tryz agency’s president’s office…
But a corner of a high-rise apartment building in the prefecture.
He pounded on the door, and a chubby man peeked out through the door chain—Kujou grabbed Miroku Kokage.
“Open up, Miroku. I need to talk to you.”
“Eh? Kujou-san? …Wait. You and I aren’t a party anymore… Besides, wasn’t it your fault that things turned out like that? Because of that, I, I got fired from the agency too… Take responsibility!”
“Shut up! You got in through your parents’ connections in the first place! Did you think a pig like you would look good on stream!?”
“D-Don’t say that…”
“But even someone like you can turn things around in one shot. You don’t want to end up as a miserable pig, do you?”
Miroku’s relaxed face twisted at Kujou’s persuasion.
This pig was also a man with a twisted complex.
Despite his ugly appearance, the fact that he aimed to be a Streamer meant that he had a twisted sense of pride.
“…Well, I guess I can listen…”
Confirming that Miroku had removed the chain, Kujou barged into the room and grimaced.
It was just like a reclusive otaku college student’s apartment.
Gaming software and trash were scattered on the floor, and even the laundry was turned upside down. Annoyed by the mess, Kujou plopped down in the gaming chair.
“Miroku. Do you know what Dungeon Streamers need?”
“…H-Hard work, maybe?”
“Are you an idiot? What they need is talent. Being stronger than anyone, having more charm than anyone… or even being more knowledgeable about weapons than anyone. Overwhelming talent, and the individuality that comes from that talent, that’s what Streamers need. And I have that talent.”
It was just that the environment was bad.
He was unlucky enough to be set up by a malicious Salaryman, and unlucky enough to be caught up in the mess because of his stupid comrades. It was too unfair.
That’s why—if he just had good luck.
There was only one way to seize that luck.
“Miroku. Your dad is a big shot in the Labyrinth Agency, right?”
“How did you know that…?”
“The president was complaining about it, but that doesn’t matter. —You should be able to get it.”
Clasping his hands together, Kujou approached him with a friendly, yet wicked smile.
Kujou, who had gained experience as a B-rank Hunter, knew.
The government’s recent extermination Quest wasn’t just an extermination operation.
Considering the government’s movements so far…
“A new Dungeon has appeared in the Nagi Plains. Your dad might have that information, right? I just want to borrow it for a bit.”
Information about a New Dungeon. That was something many citizens wanted.
The latest game information. Celebrity scandals. Politicians’ corruption… Even though there was nothing to gain from hearing it, the listeners devoured the information like hungry piranhas, writing complaints on social media.
If he could monopolize that information—Kujou’s name would be widely reported in the world.
“Of course, you won’t be responsible. I’m the one who asked for the information. You just did as you were told. Right?”
“That’s… but it’s prohibited.”
“Don’t you think it’s unfair? The Labyrinth Agency is making us do all the cleaning, and they’re trying to monopolize the rights to the New Dungeon for themselves. Besides, the Labyrinth Agency’s funds originally come from our taxes.”
“B-But the Boss of the New Dungeon is still unknown, and if we stimulate it carelessly, there’s a possibility of a Gate Crash…”
“Are you okay with remaining a loser?”
As he leaned in to ask, Miroku stiffened with a start.
Kujou secretly sneered at the man turning pale.
This man was a typical social misfit.
He was probably bullied at school, and he was the type of person who couldn’t live without relying on others.
Low self-esteem and a twisted, inflated pride that he couldn’t fully acknowledge.
It was easy to stimulate and manipulate such a man’s inferiority complex.
Now then, Kujou stood up and extended his hand.
“Miroku-kun. We fought together as ‘comrades,’ even if it was for a short time, right? As that comrade, I want to move forward with you. To the New Dungeon. —And wipe away the irrationality that pervades the world with our own hands. Don’t you think that’s our mission, The Numbers’ mission?”
This world was full of irrationality.
That’s why Kujou had to stand up.
He would succeed in turning things around in one shot next time.
He would make the streaming agency that fired him regret their decision, make the Labyrinth Agency guys regret their decision, make that Salaryman foam at the mouth, and then—he would move on to an equal and decent world that would finally appreciate Kujou’s talent.
Kujou, his eyes dyed crimson, let his voice swell with fervent eloquence, and grinned, twisting his lips upward.