Pick Me Up!

Vol 1. Chapter 1: Side Story – Aaron – Interlude Episode 1

There once was a mobile game called Pick Me Up.

The game, which had gained popularity thanks to its unique gameplay and system, gradually became mired in management controversy until it finally shut down.

This is what happened afterward.

A story that no one knows—what happened after the game ended.

***

There once was a universe called Möbius.

Formed of countless multidimensional planes, Möbius eventually reached the end of its lifespan and shattered into nothingness.

But there were those who sought to resurrect this universe—twin goddesses known as Tell and Icar.

Defying the laws of the universe itself, the twin goddesses restored Möbius. And for that, judgment soon followed.

However, a man took up their will.

That man, once known as Han Israt, gathered knights and armies under his banner, founded new territory, and reigned as king. People came to call that land Valhalla.

This is the story of Valhalla.

Once called the Boundary Realm, even now, war continues on this land in a desperate attempt to stop the downfall of Möbius.

This is a story of that endless war.

A story of an adventurer party, and their vow.

***

Crackle.

Crackle-crack.

A campfire burned, lighting up a dark alleyway in the night.

Sizzle—

As a skewer pierced with fatty pork was laid over the flame, the scent of sizzling meat began to rise.

“Ugh!”

The girl waved her hand at the smell.

She tried covering her nose, but the stench clung stubbornly.

“Smells like—ugh—pig fat! Why’s it so nasty?”

“It’s pork fat! Old meat, probably gone bad.”

“This is disgusting. How are we supposed to eat this crap?”

“Then starve. I’ll eat your share.”

The girl quickly shook her head.

“No, I mean—we can at least try to make it taste good! Like, here!”

She rummaged through her belongings and pulled out a small container.

It was pepper.

“No salt? Are we out?”

Her face fell.

There was no helping it.

She just sprinkled the remaining pepper generously onto the meat skewer.

“AAGH!”

Suddenly, she let out a scream.

The two people next to her didn’t react. They were used to it.

“Why?! Why am I even—why am I doing this?!”

The girl stomped her feet while seated.

What had once been a magnificent dress was now stained and dirty.

The special fabric wasn’t something you could clean by just rubbing water on it.

“Hey! I was a court mage in Townia, okay?! I lived in a huge castle, ate gourmet food, wore gorgeous clothes! What the hell is this?! Why do I look like some beggar now?!”

She clutched her head in both hands.

“I—Iolka Ribel Strassur—why am I like this, here, in this state?!”

She thrashed her head in disbelief.

“Here, eat.”

“Ah... thank you.”

Iolka accepted the skewer that was offered.

Why... does this taste good...?

She felt like crying.

Proof that her palate had become cheap.

Well, it made sense—she hadn’t eaten meat in over a month.

“Hehe, lucky us. Who would've thought we’d have leftover meat?”

Chomp.

The freckled girl beside her bit into her skewer.

Her name was Jena Shirai.

“......”

The man in the corner also picked up his share of meat.

A rugged man with a fierce expression—his name was Belkist.

Tap.

Crackle.

Late into the night.

The campfire crackled, and the three of them sat around it, eating skewers.

“The dreams I had when I first arrived... weren’t like this...”

Iolka muttered with dead eyes.

“I was supposed to be amazing... everyone was supposed to praise me...”

But she had failed.

Failed miserably.

Reality and fantasy were so wildly different.

“Can’t help it, unni. Things turned out this way.”

“You’re seriously okay with this? Living like a vagrant?”

“I’m fine, really. I’ve got you guys, too.”

Jena gave her a cheerful smile.

What’s wrong with this girl’s mental state...

Then again...

That’s probably why she adjusted so well in the Waiting Room, too.

Haah.

A deep sigh slipped from Iolka’s lips.

Regret soon turned to frustration.

How unbelievably rude!

From what she’d heard, that man held high office in Valhalla.

And yet he hadn’t even come out to greet them.

No—he probably didn’t even know they had arrived. He never said he would.

Still, he could’ve at least—

“UWAAAAAH!”

Iolka threw her head back, a piece of meat still in her mouth.

Even this kind of reaction didn’t faze the other two anymore.

Han Israt.

Iolka’s memories had returned.

Of what had happened in her past life.

Of how she had lived in the game’s Waiting Room.

The moment she stepped into Valhalla, those memories had come rushing back like magic.

The reason I returned here was...

What was it?

She didn’t know.

Was it because life in Townia had gotten boring?

Sure, that palace never really gave her a chance to show off her brilliance.

No monsters. No opponents to fight.

Just study and research, day in, day out.

“Nnngh!”

Iolka groaned.

I could’ve just not told him!

She had thought that once she became famous—so much so that no one could ignore her—he’d find out naturally!

But now look at her...

Valhalla.

The world the three of them had reached with the guidance of a fairy was no easy place.

Far from it.

To grow stronger here, one had to fight Fragments and absorb their interference power.

Yeah.

The system was a perfect replica of the one from Pick Me Up.

Loki had created a new system to help heroes grow.

The stronger the enemy—

The more interference power you could absorb when defeating them, the stronger you became.

Levels, skill systems...

But we came too late.

In the early days of Valhalla—

The Boundary Realm had overflowed with endless Fragments.

Wherever you went, there were enemies, and those creatures assaulted Valhalla day after day in an attempt to destroy Möbius.

Back then, heroes from Niflheim made up the majority of defenders, holding the crumbling world together by the skin of their teeth.

As a result, they became monstrously powerful.

Iolka’s group only arrived after the land had stabilized.

Not during the early, do-or-die days.

Not even in the middle phase, when conquest wars were expanding territory.

No—they arrived in the late phase of Valhalla’s development.

In other words—

Even if they wanted to grow stronger, there were no opportunities.

Now, the king was focused on internal development rather than war.

Which meant there was no stage for them to shine on.

Even if there was one, the gap between them and the early members was too wide.

People like Iolka, who had just arrived, wouldn’t be given a chance.

“GYAAAAH!”

Iolka clutched her head and shook it wildly.

“Why’s it taking so long?! Why?! WHY?!”

“Unni, here, have another one.”

“Ah... thank you.”

Chomp.

She took the skewer Jena offered.

There was still plenty of pork fat from the nearby butcher.

Nnngh.

How humiliating.

Iolka chewed the meat furiously as she grumbled.

The reason she and her party were living in such poverty—

Was precisely that.

In Valhalla, everything was converted into interference power.

In other words, interference power was both currency and the means to become stronger.

Whatever the case, they needed to hunt Fragments.

But the weak ones were nearly extinct.

If they searched beyond the outer wall, they might find some every now and then.

They barely scraped by killing those, harvesting what little interference power they could.

It’s not even enough to put food in our mouths...

To become stronger, they needed interference power. But to collect it, they had to already be strong.

And so Iolka’s party was trapped in a loop, wasting away inside a maze with no exit.

“It’s okay, unni!”

Jena patted Iolka’s back as she sniffled.

“Based on my calculations, we’ll be able to reach the next stage in about... a hundred years!”

“That’s not comforting at all!!”

Iolka snapped.

Unfair.

Yeah, this was unfair.

“No way around it.”

The man with the sword at his waist muttered as he chewed his skewer.

The other two were calm—only Iolka was losing it.

“The world’s always been unfair. If it’s frustrating, get stronger.”

“So do you have a plan? At this rate we’re screwed.”

“We’ll have to take risks. If we play it safe, we’ll never catch up to them.”

Risks, huh.

That meant facing Fragments far stronger than what they’d seen so far.

Nnngh...

She understood that in theory.

“...Or, maybe we could ask for just a little help?”

“Who would help us?”

“We tell my oppa.”

“What?! How?!”

Ta-da!

Jena pulled a poster from her coat.

Date – Valhalla Year X, Month X, Day X, XX:00

Location – Grand Plaza

In commemoration of the victory in the 596th Territorial Expansion War...

Jena smiled brightly.

“What do you think? I found this posted on a wall nearby.”

“A victory parade?”

“Looks like Oppa’s group went out again and won big. They’re holding a celebration at the Grand Plaza!”

Grand Plaza.

Iolka muttered to herself.

She knew where that was—near the southern gate of the city. That disgustingly vast place.

The date was tomorrow at noon.

“Not like him. A win’s a win—why celebrate it?”

“Well, he’s not with us anymore, you know? There are a lot of people watching now. He has to care about his image. And it’s good for morale, too.”

“Not the same as when he was with us...”

Iolka murmured.

“That’s right, Unni. Oppa’s different now. He’s not the same person who used to fight alongside us.”

“A different... person?”

“He’s the king of this place now! He’s got tons of subordinates. If we walk up acting all buddy-buddy, we’ll probably get cursed out and kicked out.”

“Hmph. I don’t like this at all!”

Iolka cleared her throat.

“Anyway, I’m going to confront that man. He told us to come, and then he doesn’t give us a single chance or show any consideration!”

“Consideration for beginners?”

“Y-yeah, that’s what I meant!”

She clenched her fist tightly.

She had a lot to say.

She could scold him for an entire day.

So Iolka’s group decided to barge into the victory parade tomorrow.

After all, that was their only chance to meet him.

It wasn’t like they had the gall to march up to the tower and brag that they were friends with the king.

And so, the following afternoon—

The victory ceremony was held at the Grand Plaza by Valhalla’s southern gate.

The marble plaza was packed with an enormous crowd.

“Why are there so many people?!”

Iolka frowned, caught between spectators.

“Looks like they all came to see Oppa!”

“Hmph, must be some bigshot, huh?”

“Well yeah—he’s the king!”

King, huh.

Iolka pouted her lips.

“Looks like about half the city showed up.”

Belkist, standing a few steps away, muttered.

The Boundary Realm—Valhalla.

It had originally been a tower. But as more people arrived, a city formed around the base of the tower.

Not just combat units, but many heroes who supported them now resided here as well.

Currently, Valhalla’s population exceeded 100,000.

It had begun with fewer than 20,000, but now it could rival a small nation.

At the heart of that growth stood the Boundary’s king, Loki, and the Five Knights.

BAM—BA-BA-BAM—

A marching band’s brass instruments began to play.

The ceremony had begun.

WAAAAAH!

The citizens gathered in the plaza erupted into cheers.

From the outer edge, Iolka couldn’t see what was happening at all.

“What? What’s going on?”

“Oppa must’ve appeared!”

Jena agilely slipped through the crowd.

Like a flying squirrel—watching her, Iolka snapped out of her daze and chased after her.

“Ugh!”

It’s so cramped!

“Hey! Who do you think you are?!”

“Wait your turn!”

She squeezed past grumbling spectators.

Where is he—where?

Her field of view finally began to open.

Iolka turned her head and scanned the plaza.

Soldiers in black uniforms were marching in formation.

Ah, there!

A familiar back.

But... something felt off.

Iolka’s eyes widened.

He’s... riding a horse?

An ornate uniform, an extravagant cape.

And even a high-bred warhorse beneath him.

It was completely unlike the man she remembered.

A different... person?

No—it was definitely him from behind.

Behind the man, several men and women walked, likely his subordinates.

I can’t see from back here!

Iolka pushed through the crowd in a fluster, heading forward.

She had to see him from the front.

While enduring curses, she all but ran to the northern side of the plaza.

After bumping shoulders and getting her feet stomped on, she finally caught a glimpse of the man’s face.

There he is.

Clip-clop. Clip-clop.

Under the marching song, the man passed through the plaza on horseback.

The moment she saw his face, Iolka burst into a grin.

Serves you right!

He looked like he was dying inside.

His expression screamed how much he didn’t want to be there—how he was only doing ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) it because he had no choice.

Iolka could recognize that face.

Because they had once risked their lives together.

How delightful!

She was always the one getting the short end of the stick.

Seeing him like this for once was refreshing.

Han Israt. I knew it.

That was the man’s name—Han Israt.

“Ah, it’s Oppa!”

Suddenly—

Jena popped her head out from behind Iolka.

“Oppa! Can you heeear me?!”

She waved her hand wide and shouted, but her voice was swallowed by the crowd’s cheers.

“Guess he didn’t hear.”

“That guy’s ridiculous. What is he even doing up there?”

“I told you, it’s a ceremony!”

“I’m asking why he’s doing that. He clearly doesn’t want to.”

Jena smiled again.

“Because he’s the king here! Even if he hates it, he does it for morale. Uh, it’s like... showmanship?”

“Showmanship, huh.”

“Or was it image management? Mmm. Earth language is so hard. Anyway, he shows off his cool and glamorous side to boost loyalty! Earth’s dictators do it a lot, apparently!”

Dictator?

Iolka blinked at the nonstop stream of terminology.

“Anyway, it’s part of his job to rule this place smoothly.”

He really looked like he didn’t want to do it.

Being a king sounded exhausting.

Han’s lips twisted into a deep grimace.

At the same time, his eyebrows furrowed.

He looked like he’d deck anyone who even breathed wrong.

Wait—that woman...

Right behind Han stood a silver-haired woman in uniform.

She was looking at the marching king with a smile in her eyes.

Her expression radiated pure satisfaction.

The contrast between the two faces couldn’t be more stark.

“Poor Oppa.”

Jena said softly.

“I could never do that. He’s amazing.”

“Poor...?”

“He’s tied down by a lot of responsibility and stuff. Must feel suffocating.”

“Tied down...”

If that’s the case, then why not let it all go?

Why not just live freely?

“Because he can’t. That’s what it means to be a king.”

“...That’s complicated.”

“Not a fan.”

Suddenly, Belkist appeared behind them and muttered.

“Eek—don’t sneak up like that! Say something if you’re here! You scared me!”

“I don’t like this. Senior’s gone soft.”

Belkist’s gaze sharpened.

“The Senior I knew wouldn’t have stood for this crap—he’d have killed anyone who got in his way. What happened? If he were the old Senior, he would’ve told them all to get lost and smashed this place down.”

“Hey, it wasn’t that bad before... You’re just imagining things...”

“Shut it.”

Belkist’s eyes locked onto the subordinates behind Han.

They were the famous Five Knights of Valhalla.

Although two of them were absent from today’s ceremony.

“Did they get to him? Cloud his judgment?”

“I mean, they don’t look like conniving schemers...”

“Hmph.”

Belkist turned his head away.

As if he couldn’t stand to look anymore.

“Anyway, we should get closer and—”

Iolka froze mid-step.

Her eyes had met Han Israt’s.

“...!”

They met.

Clearly. Unmistakably.

That man wasn’t looking anywhere else—he was looking directly at Iolka.

But only for a moment.

Han turned his head forward again.

And he never looked back.

As if they were complete strangers.

“......”

What?

Iolka’s eyes lost focus.

“Unni? Unni?”

“Ah—yeah!”

Jena waved her hand in front of Iolka’s face.

“Something wrong?”

“No, it’s... nothing...”

Just now, their eyes had met.

But nothing happened.

Couldn’t he have at least nodded?

Just a glance, a small bow, something.

But he did nothing at all.

As if they had never known each other.

“......”

Iolka’s mood darkened instantly.

“I’m... heading back.”

“Unni?”

Step, step.

With heavy steps, Iolka turned and left the plaza.