The Liar of the World
Chapter 4: The Irregular Player
Darkness closed in around Rishiro once again.
For a moment, there was nothing to react to—no pain, no sound, not even the lingering sense of falling. It was just stillness, empty and familiar in a way that should have been unsettling but no longer was.
Then the voice returned.
Cold. Mechanical. Watching.
[Irregular Existence Confirmed]
[System Observation Intensified]
Rishiro's eyes snapped open as he drew in a sharp breath, his body reacting before his thoughts caught up. The room came back into focus in pieces—the cluttered desk, the faint glow of the laptop, the same unmoving layout waiting for him like it always did.
The email was still there.
8:17 PM.
Again.
He dragged a hand down his face and let out a heavy breath, the repetition settling in without resistance.
"…Of course."
There was nothing left to panic about. The pattern had already proven itself.
"I guess dying doesn't fix anything."
He stood, grabbed his jacket, and headed out without waiting. Waiting hadn't helped before, and it wouldn't help now.
The night air met him as he stepped outside, cool and steady against his skin. Tokyo carried on the same way it always did—cars sliding past in a steady rhythm, neon lights reflecting across the pavement, people moving through their routines without a glance.
Nothing reacted to what was happening.
That was starting to feel like the strangest part.
Rishiro walked straight toward the street corner, his pace even, his attention fixed ahead. There was no hesitation now, no second-guessing. He already knew what he would find.
And when he reached it—
She was there.
The old woman stood in the exact same spot, two grocery bags resting beside her feet, her posture relaxed as if she had never moved at all. The moment felt too precise, like it had been placed there rather than repeated.
Rishiro stopped a few steps away, studying her more carefully this time.
"…You knew."
The old woman smiled gently, as if the statement didn't surprise her.
"Oh my. You look calmer this time."
Rishiro crossed his arms, his gaze steady.
"…What was that thing?"
For a moment, the street remained quiet. The old woman glanced toward the dark alley nearby, the same place the creature had disappeared into before.
"That?" she said lightly. "It was only a checker."
Rishiro frowned slightly.
"…A checker?"
"Yes. A system inspector," she replied, her tone calm, like she was explaining something ordinary. "They appear when something unusual happens inside the system."
Her eyes returned to him, sharper now.
"And right now… that unusual thing is you."
Rishiro let out a short breath.
"…Explain me why am I returning by death."
The old woman glanced around the quiet street, briefly acknowledging the people passing by.
"This isn't a good place to explain."
She bent slightly and picked up one of the grocery bags.
"Let's sit somewhere."
The café was only a few streets away.
Warm light spilled through the windows, soft and inviting, completely disconnected from everything that had just happened. Inside, the atmosphere felt calm—almost absurdly normal, like the world outside didn't exist.
They sat across from each other at a small table.
Rishiro leaned back slightly, studying her.
"…Alright. Start talking."
The old woman folded her hands calmly.
"You are currently being hunted because you are an anomaly inside the system."
Rishiro raised an eyebrow.
"System. Right. The cosmic video game running the world."
She ignored the sarcasm.
"The voice you heard after your death."
Rishiro's expression shifted slightly as the memory surfaced.
[Unknown System Detected]
[Irregular Event Confirmed]
The old woman nodded.
"That message wasn't meant for you. It was the system spotting a glitch."
Her gaze sharpened slightly.
"And that glitch… was you."
Rishiro leaned forward.
"…So the checker was trying to remove me."
Yes.
"To the system, you are an error. A glitch. An anomaly."
She paused briefly.
"…An irregular player."
Rishiro let out a quiet breath.
"…Player. So the book was right. The world really is some kind of game."
The old woman shook her head slightly.
"Game is simply the closest word humans understand. But yes—the world operates under something known as the Reality Governance System."
Rishiro leaned back.
"And somehow I logged in early."
"Something like that."
He studied her more closely now.
"…And you? You stopped the checker. You knew about the system. You knew I would loop."
His eyes narrowed.
"So tell me something… who are you?"
The old woman remained silent for a moment, then chuckled softly.
"That… I cannot tell you yet."
Rishiro groaned.
"Of course you can't."
"There are rules."
She met his gaze.
"But one thing you should understand."
"The system can't remove you."
Rishiro blinked.
"…What?"
"That restart. That irregular message. That loop."
She leaned slightly forward.
"…Those happened because of something you did."
Rishiro's mind flashed back—the book, the pages, the words.
"…No way."
The old woman smiled faintly.
"You knocked on the door of the system."
"And it answered."
The café fell quiet around them.
Rishiro stared down at the table, his thoughts moving faster than he could organize them. The pieces were there—the book, the voice, the deaths—but putting them together only made things worse.
"…So what now?"
The old woman didn't answer immediately. She lifted her cup and took a slow sip of tea, completely normal, as if the question didn't carry any weight at all.
"The world ends in three days."
Rishiro blinked once, not fully processing the words at first.
"…Excuse me?"
She set the cup down gently, her expression unchanged.
"In three days, the Doomsday Cycle will begin. The system will activate globally, and humanity will become players. What you've experienced so far is only a fragment—an early irregularity."
Her tone remained calm, almost casual, which made it harder to dismiss.
"The world will enter its first influence phase."
Rishiro leaned back in his chair, one hand coming up to his forehead as he let out a slow breath. For a moment, he didn't say anything, just sat there trying to decide whether this was insane—or if he had already crossed the point where that mattered.
"…Well," he muttered finally, his voice dry, "that sounds mildly concerning."
The old woman watched him quietly.
"You will need to survive."
Rishiro let out a short, breathless laugh, dropping his hand back onto the table.
"Survive?" he repeated. "I can barely survive rejection emails."
The corner of her lips lifted slightly.
"But you are different."
That made him pause.
"You are an irregular player," she continued, her gaze sharpening just enough to hold his attention. "And irregular players… are not bound the same way others are."
Rishiro didn't respond right away.
The words didn't sound dramatic—but the way she said them made it clear they mattered.
"…can change the rules of the game."
Silence settled between them again.
Outside the café window, the city carried on without interruption. Neon lights flickered softly across the pavement, people passed by without looking in, and cars moved through the streets like any other night.
Nothing looked different.
Nothing felt urgent.
And yet—
In three days, everything would change.
End of Chapter 4