"Welcome!!!! Contestants to the ##&$$ Adosuem!!!!" it chirped, voice cracking while decorative bits literally fell off.
With a giant, cartoonishly pointy finger, it pointed to the audience.
"Cheeeerrrr for our lucky contestant, sponsored by ‘Insert Name of Product!’"
Instantly, canned cheering audio echoed through the theatre full of skeletons, there's clapping in macabre rhythm.
Hajime squinted.
“Reminds me of those old late-night TV shows… their so fucking fake and boring.”
Caladblock tilted her pommel. “What’s a late-night TV show?”
“Something old people used to watch. They died out 'cause it wasn’t funny anymore.”
The clapping cut's out and the automaton raised its arms:
"Now, spin the Wheel of Trials!!!!"
A massive wheel descended, each slot crammed with ad-themed challenges, all terrible.
-
“Idol Dance Trailer Extraordinaire”
-
“Talent Skill Recruitment Slogans”
-
And worst of all: “Best Feet Commercial Fest”
I clench my fists and whisper a prayer to any sensible god: Not the feet one, please...
The wheel spun… and kept spinning. Slow. Painfully slow.
After a full minute, it began to stop — halfway into “Feet Commercial Fest.”
Then—in clear visual violation of physics and logic—the wheel jerked slightly left, landing instead on “Idol Dance Trailer.”
Caladblock gasped.
“Hajime-san… did it just cheat in front of us?”
Hajime fist-pumped.
“Don’t care!!! Thank God these shows are fake as hell!!!”
Skeletons exploded into claps. Hajime bowed like an Olympic gymnast who landed a backflip off a burning building.
The robot’s voice sparked:
"Lucky contestant! Now, beat me in a dance themed ad-off and you may pass!"
Its body shifted, parts twisting into a vaguely feminine figure. Corrupted, looped ads spun from its hands like busted airport signal flags.
Salsa music began — the cheap, royalty-free kind.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“Tap tap tap—dance in the front, dance to the back—spin and pose from the pillars—say ‘Please buy Insert Product at your local Insert Location!’”
Hajime mumbled, “Moves surprisingly well for a rust bucket…”
Caladblock sighed. “Shows the dungeon core really cared about this floor. Gross!!!”
Fireworks exploded, glitchy and off-sync.
“INSERT PRODUCT!!!!!!” the robot screamed at the climax.
Applause again. Then the voting screen appeared — glitchy and unreadable — but somehow clear enough to read:
[95% - Win: ANNOUNCER CORE]
“WAIT, WHAT?! I HAVEN’T EVEN DANCED YET!!!”
“That’s fucking rigged!!”
The automaton buzzed:
“Pay $%$$#%$ to try again…”
Hajime groaned.
“Ugh. It's this kind of cheap scam…”
Caladblock chuckled.
“A pay-to-win talent show. Competition didn’t matter in the end hon.”
With the power of pettiness, Hajime slashed the pay terminal. It glitched and confirmed:
“Payment acknowledged.”
The wheel reappeared, spun (again painfully slow), and landed on “Idol Dance Trailer” again. This time, Hajime would go first.
A new list of tracks appeared. He shrugged.
“Screw it. I’m going to do the slow dance.”
He turned to Caladblock. “May I have this dance?”
The sword levitated, producing miasma arms with sparkles of romantic doom.
“YESSSSSSSSSSS~!” she beamed.
And so, they danced. Slowly. Like it was their wedding night and the catering staff was watching. Every step dripped with ironic sincerity.
At the end, Hajime whispered with a deadpan sigh:
“Sponsored by Hajime-kun’s Exploration Something Something.”
Cue thunderous applause.
A new vote screen appeared:
[51% - Win: Hajime]
“Huh,” he muttered. “Was that... rigged to feel fair?”
The automaton clapped wildly.
“Bravoooo! Bravoooo! Sponsors of ‘Insert Company Name Here’ — you’ve completed a wonderful campaign!”
Confetti shot out like the dungeon was celebrating its own bankruptcy.
“You may proceed!”
Cheerful music followed our hero through the door, applause echoing from the corpses of an era that should’ve stayed dead.
As Hajime walked on, he heard something fall behind him.
The last deathrattle of a once-popular event.
He ascended to Level 3, out of breath, out of care.
Flopping onto the complimentary bench, he sigh's.
“This tower is the worst cardio workout ever... These stairs are pure evil.”
Caladblock floated beside him.
“Don’t worry hon. Everything seems easy enough.”
“Please,” Hajime groaned. “Don’t let that be a flag, luv.”
Merry:
“Kyaa~ star sign! Whalepool relief effort is going A-OKAY!!!”
She tossed heart signs and bread ads like glitter. The crowd was frothing with hype.
Whalescalibur descended like an angel of capitalism, landing in Merry’s stream for a surprise and welcomed collab event.
Backflips. Glittering cash signs. Sponsored bread rations launched into children’s arms.
A new banner glowed:
[MUTUAL SUBSCRIBE & PREMIUM MEMBERSHIP – HERO-SAN’S COMPANION SWORD]
Merry squealed and hit the big glowing button.
The Holy Union was born.
Whalescalibur’s voice boomed:
“Welcome to Legendary Whalescalibur Premium! Enjoy: unlimited powerful ads, the chance to become an unstoppable star, and premium access to Hero-kun’s deepest secrets!”
Merry bowed.
“Thank you for subscribing to the Premium Princess Knight Package! You now have access to royal resources, top-tier superchat priority, and… my appearance reveal!”
As she spoke, the censorship blocks around her features vanished—
Whalescalibur gasped.
“Wait… you look like… WHAAAAA?!?!”
In her foolish haste, the sword had seen too much.
She now bore witness to a forbidden truth — something so dangerous, so pay to win… that she swore right then:
“I will NEVER let this entity steal the Hero-kun I hate-love.”
A new rivalry was born, or was it always there?