Chapter 1: No Respawns in Shibuya
December 11th, 2045 – Tokyo, Two Blocks from Shibuya
Midnight air pressed cold and thin along the side street, turning every breath sharp as Rin Kazehaya watched headlights drift past the WattsUp station's glass doors.
The neon blue-and-green sign buzzed above, its glow fighting the winter dark, while a frozen patch of spilled ramen sat by the curb, collecting city dust beneath the row of electric chargers.
Only a couple of old gas pumps survived near the back lot, numbers faded and handles stiff with disuse.
WattsUp was one of Tokyo's countless charge-up stations, part store, part pit stop for a city where electric cars outnumbered gas three to one.
Inside, the heat was never quite enough.
An electric heater chugged away by the magazine rack, its dry hum settling into every corner.
Lavender incense burned quietly in a chipped sake cup by the till, a habit Rin kept from home, the scent a little softer than the city's winter grime and a way to feel like family was still close, even when everything else felt distant.
The store was cleaner than most, but no one would call it new.
Shelves leaned with energy drinks, triangle onigiri, battered bento boxes, and bent stacks of weekly manga.
The Hero's Glory posters on the sliding glass doors, one from September's expired open qualifiers, another with the championship logo, and a QR code for the 3v3 Winter Championship were taped up from inside, their edges curling from old tape and the heater's breath.
Only the qualifier flyer was outdated.
The rest of the tournament clutter was everywhere, thanks to WattsUp's corporate sponsorship.
Rin leaned over the counter, long arms folded, shoulders slouched in exhaustion from twelve hours on shift.
His dark brown skin caught the flicker from overhead bulbs, and his WattsUp polo was a size too big, sleeves loose on his lean frame.
Black hair in wild twists hung across his forehead, framing a lazy grin and the faint scar over his right brow, leftover from a childhood car accident nothing dramatic but enough to make him memorable.
He thumbed his phone awake, the glow painting his face in pale light.
The screen showed the usual lineup of apps: Ping, the messenger everyone used; Loop, the city's favorite social feed, where his account barely scraped twenty followers; and the Hero's Glory Online companion app, buzzing with notifications from the Winter Championship.
Rin scrolled past the last two, skimming his Loop feed long enough to see tournament chatter flooding the timeline, then killed the screen with a sigh.
The store was empty now.
Earlier, he'd seen salarymen grabbing canned coffee, students double-checking their change, a couple of lost tourists fumbling with charge receipts.
He'd already dealt with a bathroom disaster and a battery-swap complaint before lunch, and now, past midnight, the silence felt heavy.
He just wanted the last hour to crawl by without surprises.
A J-pop single played through the store speakers, some NEON NINE hit stuck on every radio rotation in the city.
The TV above the till streamed the Hero's Glory Online 3v3 Winter Championship live: quarterfinals in full swing, digital avatars darting across a blizzard-bright arena, announcers calling every clutch support save.
The camera cut to Daisuke Aoi, goggles crooked, orange hair wild, his half-elf hybrid avatar throwing shields over a collapsing team.
Rin let the clip play, admiring the timing of the spells, before dropping his gaze back to the counter.
Posters for the championship hung half-torn over the snack aisle, colors faded from too much sun and not enough care.
Beneath them, a stack of QR flyers promised "Instant Event Access. Scan to Watch Finals Live!" Not that it mattered, near midnight, the store was empty, and Rin had the place to himself.
The heater by his feet struggled against the cold whenever the doors slid open, but Rin didn't mind; he was used to Tokyo's winter, sharp, quiet, always a little offbeat.
He shifted his weight, feeling the uneven mat dig into his feet, glancing up at the empty street.
A scooter buzzed by now and then, the whine of a fast charger outside sometimes rising above the TV's sound.
But inside, it was just him, the register, and the background noise of a world running on autopilot.
Rin's gaze slid from the clock to the door, his expression set with the fatigue of someone who'd worked too many hours.
"Another hour," he muttered, cracking his knuckles and leaning into the counter before turning his attention back to his phone.
A sharp vibration jolted from his back pocket.
Rin's hands fumbled for the phone, thumb swiping through the new message.
The interface glowed dark, with neon-blue highlights and message banners pulsing softly as he tapped into the chat.
[Ping Messages]
Chiyo
"Rin. I wanted to send you a message to let you know I can't keep having these men from the Tabuchi side showing up at my building, threatening me and the tenants every week. They talk about your father's debts, they talk about you, and I'm afraid it's only going to get worse.
I've done what I can, lowered the rent, looked the other way, but I can't protect everyone if this keeps up.
You know I love you like my own. I practically raised your mother, Ohema, since she came out of the orphanage. If it were just me, I'd let them burn the place down around me, but I have other tenants and families to think about.
I can keep your brother and sister safe for now, hide them if I must. They aren't the ones being targeted. You are.
Rin, you're a smart boy. You can go back to Tochi Academy. They still offer housing for first-years, and yes, it means starting over, but it's something stable until you can get things steady. You'll hate it, but at least you won't be on the street, and your siblings won't be dragged through this mess.
Please think about it. I can't keep this up forever, but I want you safe."
Rin's thumb hovered over the phone, then he set it down back-first on the counter, harder than he meant.
The pens rattled in their cup, the heater droned on, and for a long second, he just stared at the laminate.
His jaw tightened, breath pulling slow through his nose.
He could scrape the numbers in his head, what was left of his savings a joke against the bills stacked in his mother's name.
Hospital fees didn't care about discounts. Debts didn't care about second chances. And the Tabuchi name didn't forget.
There were choices, sure, but none that kept everyone whole. School meant the kids would be safe, but it left him broke. Work meant he'd drown slower, not stop sinking. Either way, someone was going to pay for his father's mistakes.
The register beeped once, sharp in the empty store.
Rin dragged a hand down his face, exhaling through his teeth, and forced himself upright. He'd figure it out later.
Headlights washed across the glass. A sleek black Hikari sedan rolled up to the chargers, its reflection cutting long through the shop window.
Rainwater streaked the hood, headlights fading as the electric engine fell silent. The car looked new, expensive, and completely out of place among battered vending machines and old vending carts.
The first door opened, and the butler stepped out, suit pressed, movements crisp.
He circled the car, checked the WattsUp charger, and began connecting the sedan, glancing up at the CCTV just long enough to signal: all by the book.
As he finished, he paused, double-checked the display, and then, with a quick look toward the empty store, strode inside, leaving the sedan humming gently in its bay.
Inside, the butler headed straight for the counter.
"Evening. Full charge on Bay Three, please," he said, voice low but direct, flashing a corporate payment card.
His eyes flicked to Rin's nametag, then to the security cameras, then right back to the till.
Rin took the card and slid it across the scanner.
The butler waited, posture perfect.
Behind him, the glass door hissed open as Haruto entered next, broad-shouldered, tall, his school jacket half-zipped, eyes scanning the shelves.
He wandered quietly toward the fridge, pausing to examine a bento box, then stooped to check out the manga display, totally at ease, but observant.
As the receipt printed, the sedan's passenger door popped.
Eren Tabuchi stepped out, fiddling with his phone.
At first, he barely glanced at the store, just another midnight stop for a guy used to late-night gaming.
But as he started for the entrance, his eyes caught Rin behind the counter.
For a second, Eren paused. Surprise flickered on his face, then faded, replaced by a slow, practiced smirk.
His whole posture shifted; he pocketed his phone, straightened his esports jacket, Kansai Black Lotus stitched in crisp, gold katakana across the chest.
Eren made a show of drifting past the snack aisle, brushing his fingers over the bags of chips, acting like he was just killing time.
Only when he got closer to the counter did he make eye contact. Swagger dialed up, every step oozing the old "big man at Tochi" energy.
He finally closed the gap, elbows propped on the counter, voice pitched just loud enough to carry.
"Well, well. If it ain't the dropout prince himself."
Eren's tone slid out like oil, eyes glinting with old rivalry and new opportunity.
"What's up, Rin? Still working the midnight shift, or just avoiding the real world like your old man did?"
Rin's grip tightened on the counter, but he flashed a grin anyway, teeth bright under the overhead buzz.
His gaze flicked to the scar above his brow, catching his own reflection in the glass snack case.
He leaned back a little, reclaiming space.
"You could buy out half this block and still couldn't buy a clue, Eren. That's what you came here for? To prance around while daddy foots the bill?"
Haruto returned from the fridge with a bottle of Pocari Sweat, studying the TV as he passed by.
He nodded at Rin, a small gesture, but not unfriendly.
Before walking over to the self-checkout to pay for his things, he paused at the TV and noticed that Hero's Glory Online quarterfinals were streaming.
"Yo, is that the quarterfinals? Looks like Sendai ArcStars just lost to Osaka Blue Nova," Haruto said, pointing at the screen. The Hero's Glory Online logo flickered above the commentators.
Rin answered, the edge in his voice softening.
"Yeah, tough match. Daisuke Aoi almost pulled it out, but Nova clutched at the end. London Spire in the finals though, gonna be wild."
Rin shot a look at Eren and delivered the line:
"If your captain didn't sell in qualifiers, you'd probably be on that stage right now."
Haruto caught the barb but didn't rise to it; he just gave a knowing shrug, focused on scanning his drink at self-checkout, a quiet pro who'd heard it all before.
Eren's smirk narrowed, annoyance flaring. He tapped the counter with one finger, nails neat, rhythm slow and mocking.
"You got jokes, but you don't have time. My father's patience is thin, and my own is thinner. I want my money. Clock's ticking, and you're running out of hours."
He leaned in, breath just a little too close for comfort, cheap cologne not quite covering up something sour and stale.
Rin jerked his head back, fanning the air in front of his nose, making a face.
"Hey, man, back up a bit, damn. Smells like you've been eating dog shit."
The words landed hard. Haruto's eyes went wide, then he coughed into his drink, fighting a real laugh.
Even the butler, now returning from the drinks cooler with a can of green tea, suppressed a snort as he stepped back to the counter with his receipt.
Eren's face flushed, mouth twisting. He snapped his phone shut with a brittle click.
"You don't have much time. If my father's men don't get you, the lawyers will. Don't think about running. Not unless you want to end up like your old man."
A cold, tense beat.
Rin glared back, refusing to drop his eyes.
The butler cleared his throat, resetting the room with professional poise.
"That's enough, Master Tabuchi. The payment's already been issued. Mr. Kazehaya, you know the terms. Let's keep this professional."
Eren shot the butler a venomous glare, then turned and stalked out, boots squeaking across the tiles.
Haruto lingered, giving Rin a nod of respect, rivalry, or maybe just a hint of "don't give up." At the threshold, the butler paused, smoothing his tie.
"The charge is already issued; you know what needs to be paid. No further trouble will be had unless payment isn't made."
He exited last, letting the city's cold drift in for a moment as the sedan's lights flashed outside.
Rin sagged behind the counter, the shop feeling even emptier now.
His hands shook, fists tight until the pain faded.
Outside, the sedan's lights flashed as the doors locked, its shadow sliding off down the street.
The heater whirred, lavender curling upward.
Rin let out a long breath, eyes fixed on the empty street, mind racing with numbers, threats, and old wounds.
The world outside kept moving. He would have to move with it, no matter how hard.
The door's sigh and the sedan's taillights faded, leaving only the electric hum of the city outside and the softer ache inside the store.
Rin stood behind the counter, arms folded, letting the heater's feeble warmth soak into his knees.
The aftertaste of Eren's threats still hung in the air, cold, sour, lingering.
He breathed out, slow and shaky, letting the world creep back in.
For a minute, he just listened: the TV's hiss, the distant clatter of a scooter outside, the rattle of his own nerves.
He checked the clock at almost 12:45 a.m. and finally forced himself into motion.
There were end-of-shift tasks to finish: bins to empty, registers to balance, and the self-checkout to reset for the morning.
He moved on autopilot, glancing back up at the TV above the till every time the crowd roared louder.
Neon Nine's sugary chorus faded into the background, replaced by the roar of a digital stadium.
On screen, the final match of the Hero's Glory Online Winter Championship was reaching its peak.
The camera swept across an urban, frost-bitten city map, a chaotic tangle of frozen alleyways, glowing magical sigils scrawled on glass towers, and broken-down subway tracks.
This was Helios Ring, the favorite arena for finals, equal parts beauty and brutality, with nowhere to hide from a hard push.
Snow flurries scattered in the air, pixel particles glinting as the crowd's virtual avatars bounced in their seats.
The blue-gold banners of London Spire fluttered over the main square, matched on the minimap by the crimson lotus crest of Osaka Blue Nova.
Rin's eyes narrowed, picking out the player avatars and class tags as the commentators' voices bled through the static.
"…and it's Blue Nova's last stand here, just three lives left on the board! London Spire's got nine. They're playing it safe, waiting on cooldowns. That's the discipline you only see at this level!"
The overlay flashed team lineups:
London Spire: Frostborn Spellforger (DPS), Human Ironbreaker (Tank), Elf Warden (Support)
Osaka Blue Nova: Beastfolk Berserker (DPS), Human Shadowveil (Assassin), Human Warden (Hybrid Support)
Every spell cast rippled through the glassy street ice shields flaring, spectral blades sweeping, wards blossoming underfoot.
A tank's slam cracked the pavement; support barriers flickered gold, then burst under a surge of DPS ultimates.
It looked like chaos, but Rin knew better.
Years of watching late-night matches, sneaking peeks at guides, and reading meta posts on Loop, he recognized the layers.
Each push, a bait; each retreat, a trap.
He kept half an ear on the announcer, a woman with a bright, magnetic voice.
"And Blue Nova's pinned in the north tunnel! London's Spellforger lands the combo - two down! Only Kaito left - no lives to spare. Can they clutch this?"
The camera zoomed in on Blue Nova's last player, health bar flickering red.
With a roar, London Spire collapsed in, a blizzard of spellfire and blade.
The scoreboard exploded:
LONDON SPIRE – WINNERS
As virtual confetti fell and the crowd's roars shook the speakers.
Rin's jaw tightened, half-envy, half-respect.
The prize pool flashed on screen: ¥400,000,000, an impossible sum for a city kid still counting bent coins.
The London Spire captain, a smirking, green-haired mage, hoisted a VR trophy, his avatar ringed in celebratory emotes.
Behind him, teammates posed.
Below, Loop messages zipped by:
[@Loop: ProGamerJP] "London Spire 9-3 clinic."
[@Loop: AkemiLive] 'Blue Nova had no shot."
[@Loop: Everybody] "Biggest prize in esports. That's a wrap."
The host's face popped in, a stylized avatar with pink curls and a glitzy bomber jacket. She was all hype, eyes shining.
"What an insane final! London Spire takes the Winter Championship, ¥400 million prize, glory for the region, and a place in history! To all you heroes at home, thanks for staying up! Before we wrap, we've got something BIG coming up next, don't touch that dial!"
A jingle played, the broadcast shifting to recap the key kills, clutch saves, and the final team fight slowed down frame by frame.
Rin caught himself staring at the digits ¥400 million. More than he'd ever see in a lifetime.
His hand wandered, pulling his phone, thumb flicking through Loop.
The social feed was on fire: hot takes, memes, stunned disbelief at the prize pool, debates over Blue Nova's item selection for the match.
Eren's team, Kansai Black Lotus, wasn't even mentioned.
He let out a breath, rolling his sore shoulder.
If only, he thought, if only it were that easy to start over.
Maybe with a team, with a chance nah, don't dream.
On screen, the camera cut back to the host, who raised a hand for silence.
"Alright, heroes. As promised, straight from our mysterious owner, a world first. Watch closely."
The broadcast faded to black, then bloomed into a sweeping shot of HGO's main world: floating continents spinning in a sea of clouds, magical rivers threading through neon-lit cities, wild forests, icy peaks, and arcane deserts.
Gold-lettered banners spiraled across the sky:
"NEW EXPANSION – CRYSTAL LEAGUE & OPEN WORLD."
The trailer rolled, showing each new continent in turn
Eldora: Central city, player market hub, and neutral trade capital.
Valefrost: Northern tundra, Frostborn and Dwarf cities.
Myrrhwood: Western deep forest, Beastfolk villages, Goblin clans.
Sunmarch: Southern savannah and volcanic wilds, Ork and Drakekin strongholds.
Wraith Isles: Eastern pirate archipelago, Undead fortresses.
Azure Expanse: Oceans and airspace, ship and skybeast events.
A bear mascot appeared in the center of the frame, oversized, fuzzy, with a crown tipped sideways and a holographic badge over its chest.
The bear's voice, deep, charismatic, hard to place, boomed out:
"Three years ago, we gave you the world. Now, I'm offering you a new way to live, to earn, to become legends.
Crystal League isn't just an update. It's a revolution. Five-man teams. Three-team siege maps. New classes, new economies. Cities and continents for you to build, own, and defend. This is not just an expansion, it's a new beginning. To keep things fair, every account will undergo a soft reset on January 1st. But don't worry, legacy players will be compensated with exclusive points, rare items, and real-world payouts for your time invested. The legacy store opens with the expansion, giving you a head start to use your points to grab rare drops, cosmetics, and limited titles. And to every player, every streamer, every business, bring your world here. No more barriers. For the first time, any VR pod can access Hero's Glory Online. Expansion keys are ¥13,800 (about $88 USD), available starting tonight. No region lock, no restrictions. Compete, trade, create, win. I'm paying more than the real world ever could. Countries, companies, creators, everyone is welcome. This is your chance. Bring your business here."
Graphics flashed: a global leaderboard, streamers dancing in virtual markets, teams rallying in crystal-lit fortresses, storefronts morphing into digital hubs.
The TV flickered, cutting from the host to a shot to a glitzy, stylized news host with pink hair and a NEON9 jacket.
"Hey everyone my name is Yuna! Big shoutout to London Spire for taking the 3v3v3 Winter Championship! We have more news to come following the huge announcements in just two weeks a Christmas Bash event is coming to Hero's Glory!"
"This Bash will debut a brand new 3v3v3 solo queue mode. It's a test run of the new siege format! Think of it as a mini-preview for the massive 5v5v5 Crystal League Expansion coming in January! Bash squads will be three teams of three, in open-arena battles no pre-mades, solo queue only, and you'll have to use your expansion characters. Legacy mains can't be used everyone's starting fresh for this event."
"Top-ranked solo players will split a 10,000,000 yen prize pool and win exclusive early access cosmetics for Crystal League. Signups open tonight. The Bash kicks off December 25th . Don't miss your shot at climbing the new leaderboards before the expansion!"
The feed cut to highlights: new maps, streamer reactions, and the in-game event screen pulsing:
"OPEN ACCESS JANUARY 1,"
the banner screamed.
"KEYS AVAILABLE WORLDWIDE."
Rin stared at the screen, jaw slack.
All the pain, the pressure, the debt, none of it faded.
But for a breath, it all seemed… lighter.
The world had just shifted under his feet.
As the recap looped, a new notification blinked on Ping.
[Ping: Chiyo]
"Don't forget the milk! Kids are asleep. Hurry before the traffic gets bad."
He thumbed back a quick reply:
[Rin: Loop]
"On my way. Locking up now."
The shop felt a little less empty.
He went over and grabbed the milk as requested and paid for it before heading back to the door.
He took a last look at the TV, confetti still drifting in the digital arena, and let the door click shut behind him.
Rin's world hadn't changed yet, but somewhere between the blinking streetlights and the promise of a new beginning, hope stirred.
Maybe this was it. Maybe this was how he'd find a way out.
All he had to do was try.
End of Chapter 1.
Chapter 2: The Cost of a Gamble
"If you're scared of losing, you're not ready to win."