This Life, I Will Be the Protagonist

Rita and Nivalis stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the signboard, two tiny blocky toys reading line after line of instructions.

Nivalis offered her spicy take: "Every line basically screams cannibalism."

Rita: "…" Sometimes she seriously suspected Nivalis had been raised in BS.

But… she wasn't wrong.

The last game had targeted players' skills. This time, it was all about the gear.

Didn't bring anything in? No problem!

Divine Game offers forced import services!

Items, relics, and everything of value—whether carried into the arena or not—would be forcibly unlocked over time and turned into Blocks.

And once something became a Block, with the game's auto-unbinding mechanic, it could be stolen, traded, and very likely… lost.

Divine Game, ever the enthusiast for chaos, even prioritized unlocking the bound items first—because of course those were the valuable ones.

The method of robbery was also subtly built in.

There was no requirement to play a minimum number of rides, yet every hour, you had to pay in Blocks to even remain in the park.

And outside of rides, skills were disabled—turning them into de facto safe zones.

Which meant… if you wanted Blocks, and couldn't just buy them—your only real option was to fight for them inside the rides.

Rita had it worse than most.

She rubbed her thumb over the ring on her middle finger.

B8017913 counted as a pet.

Back in the starting room, she had tried returning both B8017913 and Nivalis to her pet space—but failed. They were already Block-ified.

Which meant no smuggling them around.

Just paying the hourly entry fee was going to cost her twice, maybe thrice if Nivalis messed up.

One hour of access required 10g Block.

Her most common block size (2cm x 2cm x 2cm) was worth 5g each.

So she'd need 4–6 blocks per hour, minimum.

And you had to pay first before entering.

The game didn't push her to move. So Rita stood there and reread all 9 listed instructions again, word by word, hunting for any overlooked loophole.

Once satisfied, she started prepping her "entry fee."

Nivalis was still fully intact and would pay her own way.

Rita only needed to prepare for herself and B8017913.

Each of Rita's legs had five 2cm blocks.

She removed two from each leg.

The result? She shrank by 4cm.

Now her legs were just 6cm long—shorter than her 10cm arms.

Not ideal… but since she could still fly, short legs weren't a deal-breaker.

The real issue was her stats took a hit.

Back in the starting room, she'd already confirmed it:

Block loss directly equaled stat loss.

The game didn't show stat values here, but after all her classes and experience, she had a fine-tuned sense for her body's performance.

Her base form had 42 Blocks (not counting items), and dropping 4 blocks shaved off about 10% of her core stats.

She touched the mist at the gate and was greeted by a pop-up window—just like the ones for entering World's Grave Forest.

She placed her four blocks and the single large block Nivalis handed over onto the platform.

The display read: 30g

The mist receded.

…

Entering the amusement park felt like lag ending and the server finally syncing up.

Sound snapped into place.

Just moments ago, everything had been eerily silent—now the world was alive.

All around her were blocky people and blocky monsters missing arms, legs, or even heads.

The races of the world were already strange, but Block-form only made everything worse.

Players had bizarre things stuck to their torsos and heads—impossible to tell what was a racial trait and what was gear.

And since the entry fee required everyone to "donate" pieces of themselves, everyone looked off. Awkward. Clunky.

Like badly assembled action figures.

Rita didn't immediately jump onto any ride.

Instead, she led Nivalis through the park to observe.

This place was even more crowded than the foodie zones and mining markets she'd seen before.

The sheer number of pets and teams made it buzz like a real festival.

Conversations were flying everywhere.

Every attraction was guarded by a gingerbread man half her size.

They blinked up at passing players with wide eyes made of candy buttons.

Rita: "Think they're part of the mechanical race, or maybe…"

B8017913: "I can't say for sure. But I am connected to the mechanical race chat server."

Rita: "Why do you suddenly sound like a grizzled bureaucrat?"

B8017913: "Maybe because I'm scared of being blamed by upper management."

Rita: "??"

B8017913: "˙Ꙫ˙"

The amusement park was laid out similarly to the ones in BS.

Most rides were open-air, fully visible to everyone. Only a few were housed indoors.

Next to each gingerbread NPC stood a cookie sign showing the price of entry.

Some rides charged based on number of blocks, others on total block weight.

None disclosed the rules beforehand, but players who paid and climbed on were instantly given instructions via system DMs.

On the rides, block people were bouncing around like popcorn.

Some were attacking, some fleeing.

Some seemed weightless, leaping into the sky, while others looked crushed by invisible gravity.

Just watching for a few minutes gave her a general idea—but not enough to grasp any one ride completely.

Each had different durations, too.

Players lined up obediently under the gingerbreadmen's watchful gaze.

Apparently, if you annoyed them, they could refuse to sell tickets.

Food stalls and toy vendors lined the sidewalks—everything priced in blocks.

Rita also found the trading post.

It wasn't a shop so much as a blocky vending machine.

One every few dozen meters.

She hadn't even browsed for ten minutes and already found 73 pages of listings:

Magic Med Kit (1/5) — Price: 50g / 20 Blocks

Sweet Mist Spray (1/3) — Price: 15 white Blocks only

Traveling Tailor (1/7) — Price: 200g (No red Blocks accepted)

Coffee Machine (1/3) — Price: 20g

Radiant Shield (1/3) — Price: 30g

Scented Candle (1/5) — Price: 100g

Game Console That Likes to Play Games (1/9) — Price: 500g

Each page displays 9 items, showing images of the Block-ified versions and their prices, but without any detailed descriptions.