I Never Should Have Read Those Fan Novels!

Although he knew this world had probably come from some fantasy work he had encountered in his previous life, Pan Long thought for a long time and still could not place it.

He had been in this world for sixteen years. He still remembered the major events of his previous life, but how could he possibly remember every game he had played and everything that happened in them?

After all, he was neither one of those legendary "history buffs" who could recite the Twenty-Four Histories backward from memory, cheat ability included, nor one of those legendary "ordinary college students" proficient in farming, industry, mining, commerce, military affairs, civilian affairs, medicine, and education. This world merely felt inexplicably familiar to him.

For now, all he could determine was that this was another sword-and-sorcery fantasy world, and one with a Western style. The characters' appearances and habits made that clear.

Western and Asian styles differed greatly, especially in how they depicted people. One pursued a sense of depth, used shadows and dark tones with consummate skill, and proclaimed, "Even fantasy should look real." The other pursued striking expressiveness, caring most about making viewers grasp its intended focus at first glance, while placing less weight on realism.

The clearest difference in character design was how "beautiful" everyone looked. In the world of Sword and Lament, nearly everyone in even an ordinary little village had well-proportioned features, and handsome men and beautiful women were everywhere. In this world, the three people he had seen so far... It was not that they were ugly, but they definitely did not fit that mold.

Take the old man who had left the strongest impression on him. No one would call him beautiful, but he had a certain "this is what an old person ought to look like" quality. Beyond his European features, he had a sense of realism that had been entirely absent last time.

And this talkative young girl felt like the sort of lively girl one could meet anywhere. She was nothing like Lilina from Sword and Lament, whose face and figure both struck straight into a man's sweet spot. Lilina might as well have worn a label reading "otaku bait."

With that judgment, he could greatly narrow the range of works he needed to recall and compare.

There was one other thing he was sure of.

His three temporary traveling companions were in trouble, and it was serious trouble.

The clearest evidence was that, even after they had chatted for quite a while, none of the three had introduced themselves. They had not even told him their names.

At one point, the short-haired girl with pink hair had started to say, "We are..." But the old man immediately interrupted her with a cough. She caught herself and awkwardly changed the subject to the city—or rather, the fortress—to the west.

It was called Sheltered Candle, the most famous temple of knowledge in this world. It housed a vast collection of precious books. Supposedly, any knowledge in the world that had ever been put into writing could be found there. If it could not be found there, it probably could not be found anywhere else.

That was probably an exaggeration. Still, as the center of the God of Knowledge's church, the fortress wielded enormous influence across the continent. Calling it a "holy land of knowledge" would likely be fair.

The three of them must have lived there for years and knew it intimately. Tales about the castle came to the girl as easily as if she were plucking them from her sleeve.

But when Pan Long casually asked why they had left, the girl looked somewhat lost. She turned to the old man, hoping he would answer.

The old man said nothing. His lips were pressed tight, and his eyes were heavy with worry.

Pan Long could tell that his heart was full of concern.

That puzzled Pan Long. Though the old man was taciturn, his bearing and his eyes made it clear that he had stories to tell. And having stories to tell often meant having strength. What could frighten an old man like that so badly?

Could this be like Sword and Lament, with a powerful mid-to-late-game enemy appearing right at the start, leaving them no choice but to run?

The thought sent a chill through Pan Long.

Running into a boss at the start was no joke. Just because he had won last time did not mean he could win this time. By ordinary logic, losing was what should happen. If he won, how would the rest of the story even unfold?

I need to get stronger!

He said it silently to himself.

The question was how.

After pondering for a while, he tried silently commanding the Character Panel to open.

A transparent screen appeared before him. Alongside the familiar information he had seen before, it now displayed a "Switch" button.

Pan Long's heart leaped.

Good! This is a game world!

This world had to come from a film or television work, a written work, or a game. The first two were another matter, but in a game world, every character theoretically had a Character Panel.

Now that he was here, now that he had become part of this world, he naturally had a Character Panel of his own.

He simply had not expected the Character Panels from the two worlds to remain separate, forcing him to switch between them...

[Name: Pan Long]

[Race: Human—Northerner (Constitution +1, Intelligence -1)]

[Level: 0]

[Experience: 0]

[Class: None]

[Strength: 17]

[Dexterity: 16]

[Constitution: 18+1+2/20]

[Intelligence: 15-1]

[Wisdom: 14]

[Charisma: 14]

[Alignment: Chaotic Good]

[Faith: None]

He swiped a finger across the screen. The next page covered weapons.

All sorts of weapon icons stood in neat rows. Some had nothing behind them, while others had varying numbers of silver stars. Most strikingly, the icon of two crossed fists had four silver stars behind it, plus a larger gold star.

He focused on them and immediately received an explanation: they showed his proficiency with different weapons. The number of silver stars represented his level of proficiency. The lone gold star meant he had devoted his life to that weapon and could gain additional benefits from it.

He summed it up roughly for himself.

[Weapon Proficiency: Unarmed Combat 4, Saber 1, Longbow 2, Shortbow 1, Spear 1, Dagger 3, Throwing 3]

[Weapon Specialization: Unarmed Combat]

Another swipe brought him to a page of secondary skills. A quick glance showed that basically everything he knew was listed there. There were too many to count at once, but there had to be thirty or forty. These skills had no levels, only "has" or "does not have."

Every secondary skill he possessed appeared highlighted at the top of the list. Those he lacked occupied the dimly colored section below.

Overall, there was far more he could not do than he could.

Just as the famous saying goes: my life has its limits, but knowledge has none! Chasing the limitless with the limited is a recipe for dropping dead. Still, if I get the chance, maybe I should learn a bit more...

He swiped again and reached the spell page. It was completely empty.

The next page was divine magic. It was empty too.

Pan Long smiled bitterly to himself. Judging by his attributes, spells and the like probably had nothing to do with him in this lifetime...

He turned another page to "Special Abilities." He had only one: True Qi.

[True Qi: A wondrous special energy that can be strengthened through various means, chiefly training. When using this power, you can choose from several different enhancement effects. The strength and rate of consumption of your True Qi determine the size of the bonus.]

[Persistent Bonus: Constitution +2/capped at 20]

Looks like all that hard work training my Internal Art paid off. I wonder how high an Innate master's True Qi bonus can get... Someone like Dad could probably get +3 or even +4 to Constitution, right? And his cap probably isn't just 20. It might be 21 or 22...

The next page was his equipment screen, which was little different from the version in Sword and Lament.

The final page was the journal, also much the same.

But in that journal, Pan Long found the information he urgently needed.

[You have joined the adventuring party of Gorion, Charname, and Imoen. Gorion is the party leader.]

[Your adventuring party is traveling from Candlekeep to the Friendly Arm.]

At the sight of those two lines, realization dawned on Pan Long. He finally knew what world he had come to this time!

Ha! So it's "The Adventures of Hero Charname, Uncoverer of Secrets"... No matter what task he takes on, this hero always digs up a heap of hidden truths. He's written as a warrior but read as a detective, and right now he's still a rookie.

It was a game he had played before, but so long ago that he could barely remember its title. He could not help it: the game had been in English, and his English was terrible. He had only been able to read a few character names.

As for the story and dialogue choices, blue choices meant doing good things, and red choices meant doing bad things. It was obvious at a glance. He had not needed to understand English at all.

He had muddled his way through the whole game like that. Only much later, after the internet had grown, did he read some fan fiction online and use its descriptions to piece together the plot. He had no idea whether he had gotten it right.

According to those fan novels, "Hero Charname" was the child of an evil god. He had grown up with his childhood friend, who was also an evil god's child, in a fortress called Candlekeep. That "Candlekeep" was probably the "Sheltered Candle" they had mentioned earlier. Pan Long had simply lacked the background knowledge and misidentified it.

They had lived peacefully for years. Later, though, another child of the evil god had apparently come looking for trouble. The head of Candlekeep had refused to protect them, so their adoptive father Gorion—a very powerful mage—had been forced to flee with them in the dead of night.

But their enemies had caught up with them on the road. After a fierce battle, Gorion had been killed. Charname and Imoen had escaped by sheer luck, beginning a grueling journey of evading pursuit while seeking a way to avenge their adoptive father.

If the plot holds, we should run into Sarevok, that other child of the evil god, very soon. He'll block our path and try to kill us. I wonder how strong that bastard really is. Could I beat him to death the way I beat the Most Holy Seles?

When I played the game, both sides felt like a couple of weaklings pecking at each other. Gorion, this old man, and Sarevok, that bald guy on the other side, were both weaklings. Now that I'm inside the game, dealing with them shouldn't be hard... right?

Pan Long was not very confident. Those fan novels had all portrayed the bald man as terrifyingly strong. One fellow who wrote under the name Three-Pit Dog had even made him a "Saint of War." Remembering how powerful that version was still worried Pan Long.

...There was no way he could beat him.

Recalling those fan novels, he could not help letting out a deep sigh. He was deeply worried.

Because he realized that the power level described in those fan novels was exactly how he pictured Sarevok.

Oh, for fuck's sake! This world is shaped by how I imagine it, isn't it? Doesn't that mean the bald guy I have to face is the overpowered version?

Fuck! Why did I have to go and read so many fan novels back then?

Read too much fan fiction, and the consequences finally came knocking. (Heh heh heh heh)

(The End)