I stared at my phone screen.
An illustration of a girl appeared; the heroine, dressed in a sexy outfit, was sitting in the middle of the classroom.
Judging by the visuals, there wasn't a single man who wouldn't drool at the sight of her cleavage and thighs, clearly exposed to the air. Including the male character I was playing.
As the character I was playing knelt in front of the heroine, a menu of options appeared:
[1. Give the Sun God Ring to propose to your love interest.]
[2. Give the Sun God Necklace to confirm that you are a couple.]
I swallowed hard and rubbed my eyes.
No other options? Seriously?
Why do I have to just hand over a God Tier magic item like that?
I swiped the screen down, hoping for a hidden option.
There wasn't one.
The system was literally forcing the character I was playing to be a sycophant.
[The options that appear reflect the desires of the character you're playing.]
"Thanks for the explanation."
It's a rule of dating sims that each character is equipped with their own artificial intelligence.
My hands clenched into fists.
I took a deep breath.
"Fine," I whispered.
I chose the first option:
[Your love interest accepts your gift.]
[Your character feels very happy.]
[Current relationship status: Engaged.]
"Finally! Is this the end? Is there finally a main character who gets a happy ending in this game?"
Then—fade to black.
Red text slowly appears in the center of the screen:
Bad End: Supernatural creatures attack the school until it's destroyed, and because the character you're playing is only focused on chasing after women, the world is also slowly heading toward destruction.
Game over.
I stared at the screen… for a long time.
'Isn't the point of a dating sim for the character we play to end up with their love interest? Why, just as they're about to be together, does the world end up destroyed?'
I feel like I want to slap the person who created this game!!!
If in my imagination, I want to slap someone else, in my real life, it's the opposite.
"Looks like I'm going to get beaten up again today."
A dating simulation game titled *The Bad Ending is the Only Route*. That's what I'm stuck playing right now.
It's not that I like or am addicted to playing dating sims.
I'd also like to play physical sports like most people, but I can't.
The reason is simple: my hands. They're the only part of my body I can move reliably. Ever since I was a child, I've been like a broken doll.
At the orphanage, the volunteers liked to move my body from the wheelchair to a regular chair just to take pictures of me wearing a funny hat. They laughed, saying I was cute. If I fell, they'd call the nurse. I could never stand up. I could never protest. Then, when I left the orphanage and got government-subsidized housing… I became a plaything for the gangsters around my new neighborhood.
How happy those gangsters were. They found someone who couldn't fight back, couldn't run away, and couldn't report them.
From age 9 until now, at 18, I've always been their toy.
Take today, for example, where I was turned into a gameplay machine.
One of the gangsters who lives on the block behind my house forced me to finish a dating sim that he said was popular.
He often says, "You just need to press buttons on a smartphone. Even a cripple can do it."
That's my status: A cripple.
I'm just a disabled person living in a cramped room with a half-paralyzed body.
I look at my face in the mirror—pale, weak, and confined to a wheelchair.
I lower my head. My breathing feels heavy. Every breath feels like torture.
'Should I… commit suici—'
Tap, tap, tap!
The sound of heavy footsteps approached down the hallway in front of my house.
Bam!
I dropped my smartphone when the front door was kicked open from the outside.
Three thugs walked in. Their faces weren't unfamiliar. One was carrying a plastic bag of beer, another was chewing gum, and the last one—who looked really ugly with lots of pockmarks—immediately put his hand on my shoulder.
"Have you finished my orders yet?"
His hands were rough; his black fingernails gripped the collar of my shirt and pulled me closer.
"Don't tell me you haven't managed to get a single happy ending yet? All you have to do is press a button. I didn't tell you to run a marathon, you worthless cripple!"
Another thug grinned at the smartphone lying on the floor. "Look at this. Looks like we need to teach him a lesson so he takes the game you ordered more seriously."
Thud!
The gangster's foot connected with the wheel of my wheelchair with a loud thud.
My body jerked violently. My back slammed against the wheelchair's backrest. The force of the impact sent me hurling to the floor, and my cheek smacked against the dirty ground.
Their laughter erupted loudly in my small room.
Laughter that… I've been hearing since I was nine years old.
To me, the sound of adult laughter is the same as a warning of impending pain.
Pow!
See? I was right!
One by one, kicks rained down on my stomach. My chest felt empty. I could barely breathe. I opened my mouth like a starving fish, trying with all my might to catch my breath.
"Why don't we just kill him now?" The welfare money on my small table was grabbed and stuffed into their pockets. "Besides, he won't be getting any more welfare money anyway since he's an adult."
"Hey. Wait a minute!" The ugliest gangster stopped them. "You can kill him after he gets a happy ending for each of the main characters in this game."
"Why are you so obsessed with this game?"
"Don't you know how popular this game is? Even though it's super popular, they say no one in the world has managed to get even a single happy ending yet."
They left after placing the smartphone in the palm of my hand, leaving the door open.
I lay on the floor, silent for quite a while. It was as if the world had fallen silent.
Slowly, I wiped a bit of blood from the corner of my lips with my still-shaking hand.
My life has been like this for 18 years.
People who don't understand my condition gossip about me. They often talk behind my back, wondering why I don't work. Times have changed, they say—we can work even if we're paralyzed and stay inside the house all the time.
You know, I've tried doing all sorts of things: becoming a writer, a painter, a web designer, and so much more. But every time I take a step forward, those thugs destroy what I've done.
Night falls.
The glow of the streetlight seeps through the window crack.
Slowly, I crawl to set up my wheelchair, then climb onto it.
I push my wheelchair out of the house.
Even though I've only been out for a short while, I can already feel a few pairs of eyes fixed on me. They're watching from behind the alley. "Look all you want!"
The edge of the street felt cold at night. The air, mingled with the scent of freshly fallen rain, clung to my face.
My wheelchair creaked softly along the sidewalk. The front wheel snagged on a crack in the broken concrete, but I pushed through.
At the intersection, a red light temporarily halted the flow of traffic. A crosswalk stretched out before my eyes, wet and glistening, reflecting the streetlights.
And there—a young girl stood right at the far end from where I was.
The reason I went out as night was falling was so I could meet her.
The name tag on her chest read, Aria Winters.
I know my life won't have a romance plot, but it's okay to admire her, right?! Is loving someone without expecting to be loved in return wrong?
The world, which had been gray, suddenly burst into color as I gazed at her.
But the arrival of a man beside her shattered the flowery thoughts in my mind. The man was chatting with her until she laughed.
"Who is that?"
This was the first time I'd seen that man.
"Is that her friend?"
The man's face slowly drew closer to hers.
"Does he want to kiss her?"
So, is that man her boyfriend?
My hands clenched into fists.
I didn't know if the traffic light had turned green or was still red, but I pushed my wheelchair toward them without realizing it. I wanted to pluck up the courage to ask Aria directly.
SCREEEECH!
Just as they were acting out that romantic scene, the sound of a truck's brakes pierced the air.
The truck's red headlights stretched out like a beam of light, heading straight for the crosswalk even though they'd been weaving like a snake's head.
"Is the truck driver unconscious?"
The truck driver looked limp, his head flung back.
Time seemed to freeze suddenly.
All sound was sucked out of this world.
At first, the truck was heading toward me, but suddenly it swerved toward Aria and that man.
I saw that Aria's gaze wasn't taking in her surroundings. She was engrossed in staring at that man.
'I have to save her!'
Whether it was because I was too tired of being a puppet in this world or because of my own foolishness driven by love, I immediately propelled my wheelchair forward.
My hands gripped the push handles so tightly that my skin was cut and bleeding.
The wheels of my wheelchair screeched against the asphalt, leaving a straight trail.
My heart was pounding wildly. Cold sweat trickled down my forehead.
I didn't have time to shout "watch out."
All I did was crash into Aria from the front.
The impact flung her off the collision path.
It turned out it wasn't just Aria; the man beside her was also pushed by me.
They both tumbled, fell silent, and were startled.
Aria's eyes, which had been angry at first for being pushed by me, filled with horror as she realized I was trying to save her.
"N-Noo!!" Aria's beautiful eyes widened instantly as the light from the truck's headlights illuminated my face.
'Ah, finally… I'm free.'
The smell of asphalt and the smoke from the approaching truck signaled the danger closing in on me.
The last thing I did was open my mouth, "I—"
But I didn't get a chance to speak, so I just smiled. Hoping she'd live happily with her partner.
Then—
BOOM!!
The truck's front end slammed into my wheelchair, crushing my body completely.
The world felt like it was shattering into pieces. Until finally, darkness engulfed everything.
[You have been selected as one of the crossing candidates.]
[Do you accept?]
[You have agreed.]
[Starting the trial.]