Haruto Sato was twenty-six years old, jobless, girlfriend-less, and still living at home in his mother's modest house in Saitama.
Every morning began the same way: with his mother pounding on his door like she was trying to break in.
Mother: "Haruto! Wake up already! Do you plan on sleeping until you're thirty? Go get a job!"
From under a fortress of blankets, Haruto groaned, clutching his pillow like a shield against reality. His voice was muffled, heavy with exhaustion from another all-night raid.
Haruto: "Jobs are just a scam to waste precious gaming time…"
The pounding grew louder.
Mother: "Don't pretend you can't hear me!"
Haruto rolled over with all the grace of a dying walrus, his hair sticking out like an unkempt bird's nest. He squinted at the sunlight forcing its way through his curtains and hissed at it like a vampire. His room, meanwhile, looked like the lair of a professional gamer-slash-hoarder: towers of empty ramen cups, energy drink cans forming a crooked pyramid, and chopsticks scattered like fallen spears across the battlefield of his floor.
Stacks of game cases leaned precariously against his desk, ready to topple at any moment. His dual monitors still glowed faintly from the marathon session he had abandoned only four hours ago.
Dragging himself to the door, Haruto cracked it open a sliver only to be smacked square in the forehead with a rolled-up magazine.
Mother: "It's almost noon! Your sister is already having lunch with her husband, and you're still in your pajamas! Do you think you can eat and sleep forever?"
Haruto: "Technically, yes. As long as there's instant noodles and Wi-Fi."
Mother: "Haruto!"
She chased him into the kitchen, magazine now swapped for a dish towel. Haruto ducked behind the table like she was an enemy NPC boss with infinite stamina.
His mother planted herself in the center of the kitchen, hands on hips, her patience hanging by a thread.
Mother: "Your older sister is married. Your younger cousins have jobs. Even the neighbor's high school boy delivers newspapers! And you? You spend every day in that cave of yours, playing games! When will you grow up?"
Haruto peeked out from behind a chair like a soldier in a trench.
Haruto: "I'm training, Mom. Someday, my skills will save the world."
Mother: "The only thing you're saving is your laziness!"
She smacked him with the towel. Haruto staggered backward and collapsed onto the floor, clutching his chest like a mortally wounded hero.
Haruto: "Gah! A critical hit! How could my own mother betray me?"
She rolled her eyes and returned to her chores, muttering about her hopeless son.
This was Haruto's life: endless lectures, endless scolding, and endless comparisons to people his age who were "doing something with their lives." Neighbors whispered behind his back whenever they saw him stumble to the convenience store at midnight. Relatives pitied his mother at family gatherings, calling him "that poor boy." Even childhood friends had long drifted away, busy with jobs, careers, marriages.
Haruto had earned a reputation as the town's most hopeless son.
But there was one thing nobody knew.
Haruto wasn't just a gamer. He was a legend.
Online, under the gamer tag Sunlight, Haruto ranked among the best in competitive RPG ladders. He demolished opponents with perfect strategies, lightning-fast reflexes, and an almost psychic ability to predict their moves. Entire guilds feared him. His highlight clips circulated on forums, sparking debates.
"Sunlight isn't human."
"He must be Korean."
"No, no, I swear he's a pro team secretly sharing one account."
Some swore he was a sixteen-year-old prodigy training in a neon-lit studio. Others believed he was an AI bot disguised as a player. Nobody imagined he was actually a broke twenty-six-year-old who hadn't left his mother's house in weeks.
And Haruto liked it that way. The anonymity was part of the thrill. In the digital world, he was untouchable, admired, feared. In reality, he was just… Haruto.
After his mother's tirade faded into background noise, Haruto retreated to his sanctuary: a creaky gaming chair molded perfectly to his slouch. He powered on his rig, the whirr of fans filling the room like a battle hymn. Screens bathed his tired face in a cold glow.
He stretched his fingers, cracked his knuckles, and prepared for another day of conquest.
But today, the forums were on fire.
Headlines and comment threads scrolled endlessly, all about one thing:
Eternal Realms: Rise of the Elves.
A trailer had dropped overnight. Haruto leaned forward, eyes wide as he clicked play.
The screen filled with a sweeping vista forests glowing with enchanted light, mountains crowned with snow, and dragons soaring through burning skies. Armored knights clashed with elf rangers under ancient trees, their swords sparking as spells lit the battlefield. The camera plunged into cities alive with detail, then into dungeons crawling with beasts.
And then the voice-over:
"Enter a world unlike any before. Eternal Realms is not just a game it's a life. A full neural-link experience. Every sense, every breath, every heartbeat… is yours to command."
Haruto's jaw dropped.
Full neural-link VR? That meant total immersion. Not just a headset or gloves, but a dive where you felt the wind, smelled the fire, tasted the food. Where pain was dulled but real enough to matter. A true second life.
Comment sections exploded beneath the trailer:
"Take my money!!"
"This is the future of gaming."
"Sunlight would DESTROY in this game!"
"I'm calling in sick for the rest of the year."
Haruto's pulse quickened. This was it. The chance he had always dreamed of. A world of elves riding dragons, ancient wars, boundless adventure all waiting to be conquered.
His fingers hovered over the preorder button.
"If I get this game," he whispered, heart pounding, "my true adventure begins."
At that exact moment, his mother's voice shattered the spell.
Mother: "Haruto! Stop daydreaming! If you want adventure, go get a wife!"
Haruto spun in his chair, arms raised to the heavens.
Haruto: "A wife won't give me experience points, Mom!"
But even as he shouted, his gaze snapped back to the glowing announcement on his monitor. His chest heaved with excitement.
This wasn't just another game. He knew it deep down this was different. A call to destiny, a door to a world where he could finally become more than the loser everyone saw him as.
Not Haruto the shut-in.
Not Haruto the disappointment.
But Haruto, the Sunlight.
And somewhere in the depths of his heart, he knew:
Destiny wasn't calling him in the real world.
It was waiting beyond the login screen.
And Haruto was ready to answer.