This Life, I Will Be the Protagonist

The gacha machine had officially hijacked most of the players' attention.

Divine Relics? Those could be hunted down later. Now that everyone knew BS-Rita had them, even if they couldn't take them in this round of "Me and My Blocks," there'd always be more games, more chances.

But the gacha machine was different.

It screamed limited edition—no one had ever seen it before, and who knew if it would ever appear again?

Alright, truth be told, it wasn't just that. The thing was suspicious as hell. Never mind the fact that they couldn't even kill BS-Rita; even if someone managed to do it, there was no guarantee that Cat's Ideal would drop from her.

The only solace? If they couldn't have it, at least no one else could either.

But the gacha machine? Its origin was out in the open. A collectible anyone could potentially get. And thanks to BS-Rita's ridiculous use of it, even the dumbest player could tell just how valuable it was.

Plenty of players had already begun sending purchase offers while fighting defenders.

Drummer was actually in this match. He'd already modified the gacha machines all the event gift packs were carrying. They were now available for sale—and every time a player asked the price, the gift pack would respond privately.

But so far, no one had actually made a purchase.

Why? Because the price was outrageous.

Eighty percent of their game items.

Rita had agreed so easily because she was poor—and because she ran into Sweet Pomelo, a walking softie. It was Sweet Pomelo's first time being asked by a player to buy one of their "toys."

If, at the time, Sweet Pomelo had demanded her Teletubbie, her Soul Catcher, her game console, and her owl, Rita might've hesitated—even with how much she adored the gacha machine.

For these Tier 15 abyssal veterans, however, 80% was a staggering price.

Since the game started, nineteen items had been unlocked. These weren't junk either—they were the best, rarest, most practical treasures players had gathered. Sure, everyone had found more loot along the way, but if they wanted that gacha machine, they'd have to part with some of their absolute staples.

It wasn't just a matter of guts. It came down to: was the gacha machine really worth it?

To Rita, it absolutely was. It protected her Divine Relics and valuable tools while she was still weak, helped her survive assaults, even group attacks.

But to fully kitted-out abyssal elites with dozens of survival tools? Not so much. At least not worth handing over 80% of their gear.

So everyone who'd asked for a price, without fail, went dead silent afterward. Not one shared what they learned with the others.

Now, the ones circling Rita were either players who hadn't asked, or hopefuls trying to buy it secondhand from her for a cheaper rate.

Rita, swarmed once again, simply hugged her gacha machine and plopped down on the ground, playing dumb.

Maple Syrup: "How many Blocks did it cost you?"

Rita: Ar-ba-ar-ba.

Mistblade: "Apache is in my custody. She took in an alien student. A major crime. Tell me what I want to know and I'll make sure she walks free."

Rita: …Did they think she was stupid?

Apache's teacher was a siren. Mistblade was a moon fox. Everyone was just winging it. Who cared about inter-species education crimes?

They gave up quickly, knowing they could just ask one of the many event gift packs anyway.

By the time Rita was back on the field, about 80% of the players had already gotten quotes from the defenders.

Still, even when she once again stood in front of the gacha machine, no one had made a purchase.

…

The first round ended in a victory for the players—four of the paths had been cleared by Rita herself.

The second round went to the defenders. Rita entered late, and most of the defenders' available spots were assigned to block her. Even so, she still cleared two paths.

The third round began, and Rita stepped onto the field once more, gacha machine strapped to her back with practiced ease.

Every single player was now deeply, irrationally pissed off just by seeing her.

They didn't need to wait for the match to end to know that BS-Rita was going to come out of it the biggest winner. Win or lose, she always reached the gacha machine.

And how did she get there? Their own AOE skills, slaughtering every gift pack in her path.

This match was relentless—too fast, too aggressive. The only healing came from game tools, but those had cooldowns. As long as the game continued, players kept dying and respawning.

The game had originally been designed to crush BS-Rita, to make her drop all nine Divine Relics before the halfway mark.

But with the way she kept clearing path after path?

At this rate, she'd probably end up on the overall rankings again.

They had put her here to kill her, and now it looked like they were helping her farm top-tier loot.

It was humiliating.

For most players, this match was pure torture. Getting thrown in again and again, no decent healing, constant deaths. And the game tools? Cooldowns hadn't been adjusted at all.

Forget stealing BS-Rita's Divine Relics—at this point, they were struggling to hold onto their own Blocks.

Finally, one player made a decision.

They encountered a gift pack and, gritting their teeth, announced they were willing to purchase the gacha machine.

But they were refused.

The player wasn't sure whether they felt relieved or regretful—but either way, they stayed quiet.

If they couldn't buy it, they sure weren't going to help someone else get it.

Rita reached the gacha machine for the seventh time.

This game was fantastic. She was seriously considering heading to the 15th Month Theme Park to play it again later.

Nivalis's voice echoed in her mind.

"I asked. The gift packs said pets aren't allowed to buy."

Rita was a little disappointed.

By this point in the game, players were openly discussing the gacha machine's price, and from what she'd overheard, she'd gotten an absolute steal.

She didn't know if this was because Fat Duck No.1 had messed up, or because once she used the gacha machine to protect her Divine Relics the gods patched it, or maybe the price varied by player power level.

Either way, after realizing the opportunity, she'd told Nivalis to buy one from February Theme Park if possible.

Even if it cost the same, Nivalis wouldn't lose much. She didn't carry anything valuable anyway.

But no dice—pets weren't eligible to buy.

Rita: "It's fine."

Nivalis: "By the way, the item you listed at the market—Early Exit—and the four gacha eggs? All sold."

Rita: "Good."

Just as she was pulling another gacha egg, a Fat Duck standing beside her suddenly spoke.

"BS-Rita, what are your gacha rules? I want to play."

The duck tilted its beak and smacked Sweet Pomelo's chest, as if to say: Don't worry, I'll fix this mess for you.

As Rita opened another egg, she glanced at the duck and smiled.

"One complete Divine Relic gets you one spin. Wanna play?"

All the surrounding Fat Ducks fell into dead silence.

Wait, that was the gacha rule?

Deceitful Bloom and Drummer had made this machine.

Had it always been this twisted?

Even Drummer's face blanked out for a second.

Hadn't they added price caps? Like—surely the spin cost couldn't exceed the highest value reward from the machine?

Oh.

No, they hadn't.

Because the game they'd joined required a certain number of player spins to be completed.

In that context, they'd assumed gift packs would lower prices just to get players to spin.

So yeah—no price restrictions at all.