Overdose Delusion

“This isn’t a fairy tale where talking it out will save the day, Crystal! These are Clan Kobolds!”

As was custom of me, I elected to ignore the griffon’s advice.

Even as I was walking closer, the kobolds around the elder looked to be screaming. Probably expletives or some such telling me to stay back. 

But the elder themself was standing their ground.

I took that as a good sign.

I must believe in myself—and in the training I’d cultivated from two and a half years of corporate survival.

I stopped just far enough to be non-threatening.

Promptly, I dropped to my knees.

Palms on the ground, forehead touching snow. It was…

~Ultimate Technique: The Salaryman’s Dogeza Gambit!!~

“We’re truly sorry,” I said. “We were truly caught unawares that this was your sacred ground. We didn’t mean to disrespect your space or your customs. If you need penance, I will gladly and unequivocally accept it!”

The elder seemed to watch me for an unbearably long moment. My forehead was still planted in the snow.

I was going to die today, wasn’t I?

But, much to my surprise…

Tap. Something gently pressed against my head.

I cracked an eye open. The kobold elder was touching my skull with the tip of their staff.

Then they made a small circling motion in the air.

I lifted my head. Was that… permission?

He barked out an order (at least, I thought so) at the other kobolds, considering that their growling stopped. The other kobolds stepped aside.

I stood slowly.

The elder turned and shuffled away, looking back at me as if to say: Come if you dare.

So I followed.

We rounded the bend from where the kobolds came from.

…And I saw…

…

A snowman?!

It wasn't just big. This thing was mythic. Wide as a silo. Sculpted with such care it made me question every snowball I’d ever thrown in childhood.

It had three stacked tiers, each so big it must’ve taken the whole tribe to roll into place. Some kobolds were even using ladders to patch some corners up.

And at the base, nestled in the snow, was a shrine. Offerings of pinecones, roasted yams, dried meat, and what looked suspiciously like canned tuna. I even saw some of them swaying in a trance.

An ancient winter celebration, most likely honoring some frost deity in snowman form.

All this time, I thought we were about to die…

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. That the kobolds looked at me weird added to my delirium.

They thought we were the aggressors.

“Sorry,” I said after a while, hands raised. “We can’t stay. We’ve got sick kids. We need to get to East Gate.”

I mimed a roof, then a bed, for good measure. Hopefully that translated.

Something glittered in the elder’s eyes. He raised his staff and pointed westward.

While I was happy we finally had a direction to go to, something within was bugging me.

~SALARYMAN’S INTUITION: NEW CONNECTIONS~

This was the perfect time for connection-building!

Despite how “underdeveloped” they might seem to others, I refused to believe any culture capable of constructing the motherlode of all snowmen wasn’t worth befriending.

…If only I had my LinkedOut app or a business card with me. No matter.

But how do I give him something to remember?

Maybe… maybe I could take something from them? As weird as that sounded, some cultures loved giving symbolic gifts. It meant the bond was meaningful.

“Ah—I am really sorry, but…”

I gestured cautiously to the necklace around the elder’s neck. A carved pendant made from what looked like bone or crystal, strung with dyed leather cord.

Instantly, the kobolds tensed. A few snarled. One even raised a spear.

Crap. Crap! Miscalculation!

But then the elder raised a hand.

He stepped forward… and unfastened the necklace. Then, without a word, he placed it into my hand.

And just like I had done before, he gave a deep, deliberate bow. By the end, he was smiling.

I blinked.

Then scrambled to return the gesture. “Th-thank you!”

I couldn’t count the number of times I bowed as I left to tell what unfolded.

\\

“In my defense! It was dark and the path was obscured by snow,” Xaminen muttered.

“You were the one who insisted we not use the map,” the knight snapped back.

“East Gate is simple! Just follow the apex of the mountains—ow!”

The wizard girl hadn’t done much up until that point. In fact, it was the most emotion I saw from her up until recently when she decided to hit him. “You’re lucky the Crystal felt inclined to save our asses!”

“Gods,” the knight muttered. “The world’s first locationally challenged gryphon and he’s in my party…”

I would’ve chuckled watching them bicker. But when I looked at the utter state of the kids around me, I felt sub-conscious.

In both lives, it seemed I started off better than most—this time having the privilege of better genes that made me less susceptible to the cold. Here’s hoping that I didn’t waste this advantage in both lives as well…

Someone tapped my shoulder. I turned to see none other than Daisy herself. It seemed the half-lidded eye look was her default.

“I was just about to check on you, actually,” I said. “How’re you holding up?”

“A little cold.”

I started to shrug off my hoodie. I wasn’t really feeling the chill anyway; apparently being a so-called Crystal made me pretty frost-resistant.

“Whoa there, buddy. One heroic act and suddenly you're my knight in shining armour?”

“So you don’t want it?”

“I never said that.”

She took it without hesitation, slipping it on like it belonged to her all along.

“Well, been better,” she added. “Like someone wedged a knife in my brain and forgot to take it out. But it’s better now… thanks to you helping me figure out the root cause of my charming little murder dreams.”

“Oh. Uh… right.”

We sat in silence as the cart trudged forward.

“So: another life, huh?”

I scrambled to cover her mouth. “N-Not so loud!”

“Hey, everyone!” she called out. “Cotter’s been possessed by a twenty-two-year-old human from another world!”

Crickets.

She smirked. “See? No one cares. Because it’s insane.”

“How did you…?”

“Seems like the contract has binded us in more ways than one. I saw a snapshot of your life. Man, you were miserable.”

Then, gently, casually… she leaned her head on my shoulder like it was nothing.

“For obvious reasons, I can relate to your situation… being stuck in a body not originally your own,” she murmured. “Though I imagine you weren’t plagued with delusions of grandeur and memories of lounging on a throne while your servants polished your toenails for a century or so years...”

She let out a slow breath.

“…Still. I never really thanked you for doing something that stupid and brave. So, thank you. For saving my life. Even when it really was not in your best interests. You never know when I might go crazy next.”

She smirked after a while.

“Anyway,” she added after a beat, “since you’re so squeamish about blood, I hereby volunteer to kill our future enemies. On your behalf. As a favor.”

“That’s not how that—”

“Shh.” She closed her eyes, still leaning on me. “Let me have this.”

“Kids…” the knight up front said. “Good news ahead.”

I glanced toward the captain of this soul-bound carriage.

“Look up.”

He was a man I would follow to the ends of the earth for, so I did.

Upon which I saw…

Some sort of crystal tree. Its blue leaves were latticed in a pattern way too symmetrical to be natural. But what struck me most were the green leaves creeping in from all sides, like nature was trying to take it back.

A real, honest-to-goodness wall of stone encased it, too. Within striking distance!

Which meant… civilization. A fantasy town!

I couldn’t contain myself.

“GUYS! Look!”

The town everyone dreaded to return to.

But not me. No… no, my happy story still had more to give.

It had to.

Endless adventures, endless laughs with other people as we saved princesses from castles, endless safe little “episodes.”

That’s what I signed up for, right? This was an isekai, after all! 

That’s what I needed. After a lifetime of — PURE — shit... 

I think I deserved that much.

This wasn’t supposed to be where the story got serious.

My happy story needed to keep going… and nothing—nothing—could stop it.

…Except that silly little thought gnawing in the back of my mind.

Malmagos wasn’t just the goddess of comedy.

She was the goddess of tragedy too.