I get out of the carriage and the first thing I see is a buzzing port city—almost reminiscent of Venetia, but oddly perverted by the curse of ads. It’s horrible…
I turn to the Saintess.
“What is this place? I was in too much of a rush to even catch the name of this city.”
She pulls a microphone from her cleavage—out of nowhere—with a holy smile and the pious charisma of a preacher hyping up a rave.
“Welcome, newcomer, to the Port City of Micro! A subsidiary of HUCG in its righteous fight against evil. We provide state-of-the-art entertainment, a talented "fishing" community, and high-income whaling. Micro’s income may come in small badges, but it helps sustain the war effort in all of our holy crusades!”
Then a magical review prompt spawns in my face:
“Please like and subscribe to Elnora Weekly for timely tourist news and gossip!”
I try to hit the [X] but she pouts and gives me the stink eye. Just as I’m about to click it, my hand automatically gives her five stars…
That's really scary. Gotta respect our elders it seems… Sigh.
I look around and I see billboards floating lazily in the sky.
One says:
“A new sensation striking the nation—try the free game Daemons: Bazonka Conquest! Raid human lands with friends and enjoy Nocture’s promotional bathwater!”
I squint. WTF is this crap?
The Saintess nods solemnly.
“This city is a rather special experiment. As a ‘free’ city, it dodges taxes happily... which is good for entrepreneurs—but if you ask me its essence is heretical, as anyone can make money equally and fairly.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“Rather shrewd take for our resident baba…”
I raise Whalescalibur in the air. The Saintess begins shining for some reason too.
I wave her around.
“Cold… Cold… Oh! A tremble! This is the way we should go.”
“Herooo! Please not that way!” the Saintess pleads. “Demonic influence is strong there! At least watch the 3-hour Ad Compendium on:" How to forge a scabbard a lady can’t refuse" before proceeding there!”
Bingo. Something definitely fun is that way.
I whistle and ignore the streaming Saintess—oh, Merry’s is with her now doing heart signs again.
I really don’t want to see that stream. I feel an aneurysm bubbling up inside me and it may kill me before I reach the loot.
As I walk, the princess-knight follows loyally behind. Her mere presence is so oppressive that no wayward service provider dares approach us.
It’s like a big fish protecting its claim.
She’s getting ravenous fast in the background, my instinct are screaming. I feel like something horrible is bubbling up on the not so distant future…
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
I stop at a junction.
“Marco?” I point right. No reaction.
Then I point left— she tremble.
“Polo it is!”
“How do you know!?” Whalescalibur retorts.
This sword’s a little dim in the head…
Actually, the whale pommel is dimming. Huh. Who would've thought?
I whistle as we reach our destination: a giant store with a huge golden middle finger above the entrance, proudly promoted by Electromagic Incorporated.
…I don’t know why, but I already hate this company. Let’s hope it’s just a passing feeling.
Inside the store…
Everything in here triggers my instant hatred.
I spot a plaque that says “A Sense of Pride and Accomplishment” above a loot box encrusted in golden cash signs.
A long line of victims hopes to get the “next big thing”—but when I look closely, it’s the same old slop, recycled and stale.
They literally painted a “2” over the “1” on this box!
It reeks of scam and broken dreams.
Maybe I should just trust Whale more and leave this wretched place. There’s nothing here for my ad-blocking needs—
Just as I’m about to turn around, a petite woman with pink hair blocks the exit.
“Welcome to Electromagic General Store! We pride ourselves on cutting-edge products, innovation, and high retention rates!”
How cute, she’s trying so very hard.
But sorry—I just hate it here, no hard feelings.
I lift her by the collar, move her to the side, and head for the door.
It won’t budge at my repeated attempt's of an exfil..
She pouts.
“Don’t ignore meeeee! At least buy something while you're here!”
What kind of hellish store holds its customers hostage?
Merry pipes up.
“Hero… It’s common practice to keep customers inside until they either buy an ad-sponsored product or watch the store ad…”
Dark ads pop up over each party member.
The Saintess scoffs but silently watches hers.
Merry doesn’t react at all at this occurrence.
But when my ad tries to load, it errors out.
The girls are pushed out by invisible admagic. The store doors slam shut separating us.
I hear them shouting—but then sweet silence.
The pink-haired girl smirks.
“That takes care of the extras,” she says, and presses a “restricted access” button on the wall.
The store shifts in real time.
The customers in line become chained, drooling masochists staring longingly at a box of unspeakable BS.
The innocent DLC section twists into expensive garbage that only diehard whales would buy.
She transforms—now clearly a demon, with a golden middle finger hovering above her head.
Oddly fitting.
“Let me reintroduce myself. I’m Lucile, Heavenly Demon of the Microslop Division!”
Cough cough
“You didn’t introduce yourself the first time!”
A tick mark appears on her forehead.
She materializes a card from her non-existent cleavage and hands it to me:
CEO Contact: XXX-XX-XXXX
I do what any sane man would do at this situation.
Walk over to a trash bin and chuck the card in with great stride.
Another tick mark appears on her.
She starts hyperventilating.
Does she have a short fuse?
“If you want to leave,” she growls, “try the game Daemons: Bazonka Conquest. It’s in that section over there.”
I hear screaming in that direction of pain, pleasure and something unsightly.
Honestly, this feels like a prank gone wrong.
“…So I just have to try it to leave, right?”
She nods.
“Yes~”
I shrug.
“Fine. Let’s just get this over with…”
I really should’ve known better that to try free stuff from a stranger.
But I didn’t do it.
I really had no idea what kind of fresh hell I was willingly walking into...
