Chapter 00: Last Step

I am the champion. The undefeated one.

The world's greatest Duelist, winning seven consecutive WCS titles. All that remains now are fond memories as that greedy company decided to shut down its business today.

I was devastated.

Without this card game, I would become empty, a corporate slave with no substance in my life. A loser incapable of raising my own status. Rotten in the midst of a society that continued to develop towards what I hated the most.

Society didn't care about a twenty-nine-year-old loser working at a black company. It wouldn't ask if you've had dinner or not. It wouldn't ask if you've had enough sleep or not. Nothing. If you were born ugly, poor, and socially inept, all that awaits you is hell.

A hell created by Capitalism and Democracy.

I hate both of them. Equally. Capitalism is the root of my rotten life. A society that revolves around money and materialism is the worst, and I hate it deeply.

Meanwhile, democracy acts as its vessel. A place where greedy pigs control everything. They even trample on the law as they please with their money. Without any consideration of the working class, let alone the lower class like my shit.

HUH! I wish the world would just crumble. I wish the world would cease to exist just like they destroyed the Great Monarchy! Just because it's no longer profitable, they arbitrarily shut everything down. Everyone agreed, they say? Like hell they did! They didn't discuss it at all. They shut it down without any notice. For what? You know for what? For FREAKING MONEY, of course! Saying that my favorite card game was useless just because it failed to meet their already excessive monetary targets.

HELLO! YOU ARE FREAKING MULTI BILLION DOLLARS COMPANY!

This is the last card game on earth! The only light for losers like me to breathe in the midst of life's misery. HOW COULD YOU KILL IT LIKE THAT?

My anger boiled over as I watched the comments on Twitter. All social media is just as shitty. They can only laugh and insult in a shameless mob.

Who are they and what do they know about my card game?

What the hell are they doing? Trampling on my self-respect as they please.

The more I try to deny reality, the heavier my head feels. Ah… I just want to sleep and refuse to wake up again if it’s only to work myself to death for those heartless rich people.

I really don't care. I should have felt this way all along.

If only my favorite card game, the only light in this rotting sea, still existed. Maybe I wouldn't have hung myself with this rope.

If only Great Monarchy still existed.

Maybe I wouldn't be dead.