Chapter 1 — Odd
Merp was frantically moving his fingers—this was something he did every single day.
"Tap tap tap."
The mechanical keyboard produced crisp, rhythmic sounds. Supposedly, mechanical keyboards could reduce the vibration from typing, but Merp didn't think much of that. Every keystroke still came with a dull ache in his finger joints. Even so, it didn't stop him.
As a "code monkey," this was his job. He also had a more high-end title—"writer." If one had to be precise, he was a "web novel author." Although that title instantly dropped several tiers in prestige, he was quite satisfied with his life. After all, he could support himself.
The keyboard continued its steady clatter as Merp stared intently at his computer screen, completely unaware that the keyboard had already begun to smoke.
With a sudden "zzzt," everything fell silent.
Merp didn't even realize what had happened before he lost consciousness. His body slumped forward, collapsing onto the desk. His arms hung limply at his sides. On the keyboard, blue sparks flickered intermittently before flames slowly began to rise.
By tomorrow, Merp would naturally make the city's news headlines—but that had nothing to do with him anymore. One could say he died "spectacularly." The fire burned for several hours.
Merp felt like he had simply taken a nap. His mind was clear, not groggy at all. The surroundings were neither cold nor warm.
"Hm? Why can't I feel anything?"
He was puzzled. For someone like him, a "code monkey," his days consisted of writing, gathering materials, or searching for inspiration—essentially reading other people's novels to see what could be incorporated into his own.
"Plagiarism?" How could writers call it plagiarism? It was merely following trends… or drawing inspiration.
For a full-time "author" like Merp, spending at least twelve hours a day in front of a computer was normal. Every morning, he would wake up with aches all over his body. Yet today, he felt nothing at all. He couldn't even sense the temperature of his home.
Merp "opened his eyes"—and froze.
It was pitch black around him. Only streaks of light flashed by, vanishing in an instant at incredible speed. He tried to get up, but to his horror—
"Where are my hands and feet?!"
He roared, but where was his mouth?
"What's going on? What happened to me?!"
After just sleeping, his hands, feet, and mouth were gone? Was he left with only eyes? Panic surged through him as he looked around wildly.
"How can I still turn? Is this… turning?"
His current state was too bizarre. He couldn't tell up from down, left from right. Aside from the fleeting streaks of light, he could see nothing.
Suddenly, he noticed one of those streaks heading straight toward him.
He tried to move—but couldn't. All he could do was rotate in place, spinning or tracing circles. Even as a "writer," Merp found himself completely unable to describe his current state.
Perhaps the most fitting way to put it was that he was a "sphere"—a floating ball suspended in midair. He could rotate freely, but he couldn't leave his position.
And now, the streak of light was right in front of him.
"…?"
There was no sound. No pain. No impact.
Merp only felt… full. As if he had eaten too much.
Then, a flood of information surged into his mind.
"Alice, the photos you sent are simply beautiful. I'm completely captivated. Every five minutes, I take them out to look at again. I'm hopelessly obsessed. A single network cable has bound us tightly together. I'm eagerly looking forward to our first meeting—I hope that day comes soon. Love you, Paul!"
Merp was stunned. After being hit by that streak of light, this message had appeared in his mind.
"Damn it, what kind of nonsense is this?! I want my hands and feet back!"
He roared in his mind—and this time, something miraculous happened.
He saw his left hand.
Or rather… what should be his left hand.
It was composed of tiny blocks—a "left arm" made entirely of small cubes. Merp felt like he was going insane. What the hell was happening today? What kind of thing was this?
But soon, he realized something—this arm really was his. He could control it freely.
Still… no matter how he looked at it, it resembled a cheaply assembled Lego construct.
"…Hm?"
"I was hit by a streak of light, then I received a piece of information—it felt like an email. Then I wanted hands and legs, and now I have a left arm and hand?"
Merp finally managed to piece together a bit of logic. Slowly, he calmed down. Panicking was useless right now. It would be better to test whether what just happened could happen again.
Excitement filled him.
He waited for another streak of light to hit him.
But the wait felt endlessly long.
He couldn't perceive the passage of time at all. He could only remain in place, watching everything around him.
"There are so many streaks of light… why aren't they coming toward me?"
Merp waited anxiously. He had no sense of time—maybe a second had passed, maybe ten seconds, maybe a minute, or even an hour.
Waiting was torture.
He endured it, until finally—
Another streak of light shot toward him.
"It's finally here!!!"
Merp stared at it with excitement. The next moment, it collided with him.
Still, nothing happened.
The streak seemed to merge into his body.
Now he hesitated.
Should he choose a hand… or a leg?
After glancing at his left hand, Merp made his decision.
Right hand.
The moment the thought formed, his right hand extended outward.
He waved both hands excitedly—and then noticed something.
He had moved.
That made him even more thrilled.
At the same time, another message appeared in his mind.
"Alice, why aren't you replying to me? Don't you want to meet me?"
It was still Paul. The tone was exactly the same—only this time, it lacked the closing "Love you, Paul."
Merp fell into thought.
"This doesn't seem like email… but it's definitely related to the internet. Could it be an instant messaging app?"
His mind was sharp.
Meanwhile, in a rundown, low-cost apartment in Los Angeles, California, a chubby man stared gloomily at his computer screen. A chat window was open, filled with text.
After thinking for a long time, Merp decided to ignore everything else for now.
First, he needed to grow his legs.
Who cared if they looked like Lego blocks? Getting a complete body came first.
He began "swimming" with all his might. The exact method of movement was unclear, but he had definitely moved just now. So he used a standard breaststroke motion with his arms.
Sure enough—
His body moved again.