Gacha Addict in a Matriarchal World

Ellie’s eyes widened.

“You…how on earth…”

The small figure wielding vast divine powers and various abilities. What was revealed as his robe was stripped off was an elf boy with unforgettable pink hair.

The last request as an adventurer. It was because he was a test subject encountered during the subjugation of a branch of the One Who Devours the Twilight.

Does the Goddess of Love even love a child who knows not of love?

To solve this question, children with pink hair, regardless of their race, were gathered and became victims of a crazy experiment to thoroughly strip them of their emotions.

‘Jonah must have probably been one of them.’

However, that’s not why she remembers the boy in front of her so clearly.

It was during the fight with the Floor Guardian, whom the One Who Devours the Twilight had summoned and driven into a frenzy, that he stabbed her in the back and ultimately caused her to lose an arm.

The boy waved the beast god’s relic that had stabbed Ellie in the back and said,

“Big Sis can’t save us. If you wish to…please die by my hand.”

“……”

Ellie couldn’t say anything. She couldn’t imagine what this powerless test subject boy had gone through to become so strong.

Promising to save them, only for them to have been pushed into an even worse hell and their reason for living taken away.

What stood before Ellie was not simply an enemy or an innocent victim.

It was a sin of the past.

Ellie, trembling with guilt, couldn’t just willingly die.

Not wanting to die was one reason, but…what came to mind first was Jonah’s face.

Unlike the boy who saw her as an enemy, Jonah saw her as a benefactor.

Jonah was the only child she could save, and also the only child she would be responsible for in the future.

But what if Ellie dies irresponsibly like this? What will happen to Jonah who will be left behind?

Thinking this, Ellie couldn’t afford to die, no matter who the opponent was.

The moment she steeled her trembling body.

Pwook.

Jonah, who had appeared behind the boy at some point, stabbed his heart with a dagger.

‘How?! I hardly felt his presence….’

Even though her mind was shaken, the fact that Ellie was a strong person did not change. But how did Jonah sneak past her detection ability?

That alone was surprising, but what Jonah said next was even more astonishing.

“You shouldn’t hit on another man’s woman.”

It seemed like he whispered quietly, but for someone like Ellie, everything could be heard even from a distance.

You shouldn’t touch another man’s woman.

Although Jonah often clung to Ellie, the emotion in that one sentence just now was incomparably deeper than before. And then.

“Take care. Cena.”

“……!”

Jonah, turning the dagger sideways, completely crushes the heart. At those words, the boy called Cena opens his mouth and then slumps down, and closes his eyes.

To others, the mouth might not have been clearly visible, but to Ellie, who was facing him head-on, it was clearly seen.

-Jo, nah.

The boy called Cena definitely called out Jonah’s name. And Jonah also knew the boy’s name.

What had been a guess until now became certain.

Jonah was once one of the test subjects she had wanted to save.

And just now. He killed his friend who had been with him through the toughest times.

For Ellie.

Jonah, with a terrifying expression never seen before, carefully lays the corpse on the ground.

Jonah, placing a hand on the blood-stained chest of Cena, bowed deeply. Like mourning the death of a friend, Jonah’s shoulders shook for a long while.

He slowly raised his head.

“Jonah…?”

Ellie was at a loss for words.

Because in those lovely, shining pink eyes, a fierce flame was burning, as if it could set the world ablaze.

The people of the world would call that the Flame of Revenge.

I killed the protagonist.

No, to be precise, I killed the one who was supposed to become the protagonist.

It’s true that I cherish everything in this world, but among them, there are certainly things I am especially attached to.

For example, Ellie. She was supposed to become the heroine of my novel, and as such, I put more effort into her character… She is a character I created, pressing down my tastes into her.

Naturally, my affection gravitates more towards her.

The protagonist is no different.

The center of the events, the agent of resolution, and the projection of the ideal superhuman the author envisioned.

As such, a character created with deep immersion, and one who had many tasks to undertake in this harsh world on my behalf.

However, now. I have eliminated the protagonist with my own hands.

To be precise, it’s not the protagonist himself, but the body the protagonist was to transmigrate to that I killed.

I’m not particularly curious about the current occupant. The one I consider the protagonist is the soul that would possess it someday.

But, with the body now destroyed, it’s also true that I will never meet the protagonist I knew ever again.

“Ah.”

Realizing this, a sigh of lament naturally escapes.

I slowly lay the corpse on the ground and begin to ponder.

What will become of this world without the protagonist?

.

.

.

.

.

Upon careful consideration, surprisingly, there’s no problem at all!

After all, I’ve never written a story with substance. The only thing that exists is the setting.

There’s no global issue that only the protagonist can solve, like the end of the world, for instance.

Of course, it’s true that I’ve scattered all sorts of dangerous elements that could cause problems and advance the plot at any time….

But that’s a matter I’ve already pondered over. I decided to deal with it as far as I can reach.

This is both a responsibility as the author of this world that has become reality, and the candid sincerity of a transmigrator who has fallen into a world without anyone to trust.

In other words, my task remains unchanged…!

No, it could be seen as a good thing since the real protagonist who was supposed to transmigrate into this body can now live a peaceful life on Earth.

As that thought reached me, the brief gloominess dissipated, and I even began to feel a bit proud.

Just as I was about to get up and greet Ellie with my usual giggles.

“Heup!”

The summoning conditions for the Floor Guardian came to mind belatedly.

I quickly looked around with my head down.

The countless types of monsters sprawled around, and the freshly made warm elf corpse.

All that’s left now is a burning desire for revenge, and sincere prayers towards the World Tree.

…Aren’t these the perfect conditions for summoning?

I stopped trying to get up, closed my eyes, and focused my mind.

Unjust thoughts, unjust thoughts, unjust thoughts….

In an instant, memories of unjust episodes from my past life flashed through my mind like a zoetrope.

The academy teacher who slapped my palm, telling me not to lie about not doing my homework when I had simply left it at home.

The middle school teacher who insisted on reading aloud in front of the whole class the novel I had secretly written during class.

The high school teacher who tore up my light novel right in front of me, declaring it wasn’t a real book because I read it during self-study time, even though we were allowed to read.

My parents crying, worrying I would grow up to be a pervert because I only read erotic comics at home.

Missing the pickup even though I barely made it to the gacha roll five minutes before the pickup ended due to my paycheck coming in late, because the card company froze my card and told me to confirm my identity over the phone for spending a lot of money at once.

Quitting part-time jobs and everything else to start a career as a writer. But being a bottom-feeder who couldn’t even make 300,000 won a month, leading to my heart became more and more tattered every day…

Still, to express my gratitude towards the readers who continued to support me, I held a cash gift event for the first ten people to comment, but only six ended up commenting.

There were days when I couldn’t pay my rent and just ate into my savings, but as I kept writing consistently, I somehow made it to the top rankings…only for the novel site to go bankrupt a month later.

In the midst of all this, someone mistook me for someone else and left a 5,500-character hate comment.

Fighting in the comment section with another person who was uncomfortable with the hate comment. The person who copied and pasted the contents of the hate comment, sending it to me through a message after I eventually deleted it.

Yet, undeterred and continuing to write, I somehow managed to make a living. That’s when a fellow bottom-feeder writer, who looked down on me for being an erotic novelist, appeared.

Feeling down, I finally decided to fully upgrade my favorite character in the game which I got from a pickup event, only to see it become obsolete in less than a year due to a meta change.

The manuscript I definitely saved in real-time and even backed up to the cloud, that somehow disappeared without a trace.

And lastly, the mysterious explosion that took my life the moment I turned on my laptop, with the grand ambition of sparking a gender reversal trend.

Recalling up to that point, I felt a sensation as if blood was rushing backwards, and a hot flame ignited deep in my stomach.

That flame, coiled like a serpent, slowly rose, engulfing my entire body, and soon reached the top of my head.

With my eyes wide open, I lifted my head. The majestic form of the World Tree, as if supporting the sky, filled my view.

“Ah….”

A voice so hoarse it was hard to believe it came from me.

From that lofty place, the ancient mystery gazes down upon us with dignity. I lamented sincerely towards the World Tree.

“…If only everyone else but me would just perish.”

As if responding to those words, the illusion of the World Tree began to shine in green.