This Life, I Will Be the Protagonist

"You really thought that Gingerbread Man was special and figured out it was me?"

Rita could see how happy B8017913 was. She had a faint hunch there probably wasn't any real contract-based sensing, but she wasn't about to ruin the mood. What's wrong with making your friends happy? She nodded with ease and said, "Yeah. Just had a feeling it was you. You're nothing like the other Gingerbread Men."

B8017913: "She recognized me at a glance and said I'm different from the others."

D182263: "…Oh."

Honestly, not very interested.

B8017913: "She recognized me at a glance and said I'm different from the others."

D182263: "Please turn off your auto-reply. Thanks."

D182263 didn't quite know how to describe what it was feeling.

After hiding B8017913's ID, it retold the story in the mechanical group chat—though even if it hadn't hidden the name, the rules were clear: once bonded to a player, they couldn't share secrets about other machines or their human partners.

The point of the story was B8017913's bizarre reaction.

Everyone in the group was shocked—except one long-silent elder who suddenly popped up and asked something different.

[Y1130]: Ask your friend if they know a dragon named Li Zhou.

B8017913, quietly lurking in the chat, fell completely silent.

Even if you're my idol, that was a bit too harsh.

Rita stopped with B8017913 in front of a giant open-air game zone.

This was a game Nivalis had played in February Theme Park. It was one of the more unique setups she'd heard about, and Rita had made a point to track it down when she left 16th Month Theme Park. She'd already bought and refunded a ticket just to hear the rules.

The game was a blend of professional crafting and board-game mechanics—kind of like a cross between a life-sized game of Snakes and Ladders and a skills showdown.

The name? It's Not the Craft That Sucks.

There were 100 spaces in total.

10 reward spaces, each offering a tool or item usable in this specific game.

10 penalty spaces—land on one, and you suffer a punishment.

The remaining 80 were blanks.

Players progressed by rolling dice, and the only way out was to reach the finish line.

When joining, players had to choose a profession: cooking, alchemy, engineering, jewelcrafting, perfumery, blacksmithing—even brewing or farming were valid.

At the game's start, players were placed in a special room filled with materials specific to their chosen profession.

They had 24 hours in that room—though only one second passed in real time—to craft as many professional items as they could.

Once the game began, players would roll dice to move forward. You could also spend Blocks to buy extra rolls.

If two players landed on the same tile, a platform would rise between them. Both would place one of their crafted creations on the platform, which would then activate automatically on their opponent.

Ten seconds later, whichever player had the lower HP would be knocked back to the start. The winner would move ahead three spaces.

If you landed on a blank tile with no other player, you'd re-enter your crafting room—but this time you'd only have 60 in-game minutes to prepare more items.

Healing skills were completely banned.

If you died—no matter which tile you were on—the player whose crafted item dealt the final blow would claim 10 random Blocks from your inventory.

In short, this game was a showdown of professional skills.

But combat power still mattered. The stronger your build, the higher your HP—a huge edge in surviving longer.

What made this game perfect for Rita? The ban on healing skills.

They weren't disabling health value changes—just healing skills.

Which meant her healing Balloons would still work just fine.

And if things went south, she had [Unchanged Fate] as a backup.

Sure, other players might have similar tricks, but this would come down to who had better survival strategies.

More importantly, she had a different plan in mind…

Could she game the system?

Would capsule machine manufacturing count as a profession?

If yes, the resources inside that crafting space might be fewer—but they'd be rare and powerful.

Could she smuggle those materials out using her capsule machine?

Even if not, she could still create multiple high-damage contraptions.

Worst-case scenario, if capsule crafting wasn't an option, she'd go with cooking.

Cooking was a subfield of capsule machine knowledge. Thanks to her lessons from Deceitful Bloom, she could whip up some truly punishing "prize capsules."

While turning over strategies in her head, Rita had already reached the back of the line.

Walking beside her, B8017913 asked, "Do you need me for this?"

Rita sent a private message with the rules of the game. March Theme Park's version might be harder, but it likely followed the same design as 16th Month's.

She asked: "You think you're ready for this?"

Back when they formed a contract, Rita had asked what professions B8017913 could do. Its answer: every mech in the library carried detailed knowledge of 3–4 professions, and specialized models would be dispatched into major game events as needed.

Like the Gingerbread Men currently working the food stalls—they were all expert chefs.

B8017913's strengths were mineral modification, blacksmithing, leathercraft, and magitech runes.

Rita had asked what level it operated at.

Its answer: "A master without creativity."

They could only replicate blueprints stored by divine engineers—no innovation.

After sizing up the players ahead, recalling their preferred specialties, B8017913 responded seriously: "I'm ready."

Rita believed it.

She moved B8017913 ahead of her in line, adjusting some of its inner components with small Blocks so it could hide the three healing Balloons inside.

It's Not the Craft That Sucks had a fixed player count—once one left, the next stepped in. It kept the field constantly full with 50 players.

That number was so high that players pretty much collided every time they rolled.

"Is this game fun?"

That familiar voice behind her made Rita tense up. She turned slowly to see the ever-persistent Seahorse.

"You're still not over it?"

Seahorse: "Nope. Take a look behind you—we're all still here."

Rita glanced back and saw it too. In the few minutes she and B8017913 had been waiting, over fifty players had lined up.

Half of them were Event Loot Crates… and the realization twisted Rita's expression in a way she couldn't hide.