Truly the lack of truck-kun is absolutely tragic. Maybe if he ever wanted to add a cheat mode he could add a small truck-kun death to really drive home that isekai trope lol.
5 Likes
I chose the stabbing death and I REALLY thought when he “let me go” the first time the twist would be a sudden appearance by truck-kun.
3 Likes
Okay! I’m going to take this as a little bit of a writing exercise of my own. Please keep in mind I am not a professional writer or editor so take everything below with a grain of salt. I am going to try and keep to making corrections based on legibility and not change any content, though I may make suggestions if I feel something is unclear.
Everything said below comes with the caveat that your mileage may vary. I may point out something as an error that you intentionally put in as a stylistic choice and in that case please just ignore me.
Also, having now played through the entirety of the currently available work I have a few overarching points.
1 - There are some long stretches where it is simply a wall of text followed by another wall of text for quite some time. I don’t think you need to have choices on EVERY page, but you do need to remember this is interactive fiction, not a novel. Long periods of no choices are going to negatively impact perceptions of your game.
2 - On the same note of uniqueness to interactive fiction, you have lots of points where the MC responds to things without the players input. While a set protagonist isn’t unheard of in interactive fiction I would say the more popular works give you much more leeway in how you respond to events. If you want the protagonist to be reactive to situations while still feeling true to player choices you can try implementing personality stats and then use multi replace to allow for several different reactions to situations based on the players stats.
3 - Especially in the beginning you use the “turn next button into part of the sentence” a lot. There is nothing wrong with having a complete sentence ending the paragraph and the next button simply being a next button. There is also nothing wrong with using it as part of the narrative, but it should be done sparingly. Many people, when it is simply a single button and not a choice, don’t really ready the buttons.
4 - Be careful with your tenses. For the most part I think you are writing this in past tense but every now and then you slip into present tense. It is a very common mistake for first time writers, even native english speaking ones.
Prologue
Prologue
“WAAAAAAH!” The cries of an infant ripped through the walls of the building, followed by soothing words from a feminine voice. “What a healthy child,” said the lady trying to calm the baby cradled in her arms. “You didn’t get an easy start in life, ending up here so soon, but I’ll take care of you. Welcome to the world, my dear…”
Well, at least my mind is… oh, hi there! You might be wondering why I’m here? Well, to put it simply:
I had the misfortune to die prematurely.
Killed.
It’s kind of weird when I think about it. I always thought that this kind of death was for others, not me. I always tried to live peacefully and in a non-confrontational way, thinking that it would prevent me from ending up in some true crime documentary. And to add insult to injury, my…
…in which I had so much pride couldn’t even help me.
I’d always been able to catch the attention of others and keep them focused on me, which, in return, made them more receptive to whatever I wanted to talk about.
“You could sweet-talk yourself out of a hostage situation if you tried hard enough,” my friends often liked to say.
Well, that was a lie. However much charm I possessed, in the end, it didn’t matter.
I died at the ripe age of 27, just after finally becoming an associate in my company. I knew my office better than my own flat. I spent years grinding my soul and body into 120-hour weeks, mind you, before I got…
I never was the life of the party, nor did I ever try to be. I always dodged the birthdays and casual parties my family, friends, and acquaintances threw because that scene just wasn’t my forte.
Still, as a responsible adult, I had to partake in some work celebrations—not so much for the celebrating part, but because it was, well, work-related. Especially my last one, as it was mostly thrown for me. How could I have dodged it?
“Hiro, won’t you take one more drink?!” The question came from my heavily inebriated boss. Letting out a small, half-fond, half-annoyed sigh, I responded with a smile to the lady who had always looked out for me from day one. She was a motherly woman with a kind face, but with great intellect and a sharp business spirit. Most of the downtime in the office—though it wasn’t plentiful—she spent out of her office, bouncing from floor to floor, greeting her employees and showing pictures of her “cute little child” (who wasn’t that little, as I was the same age as them).
She never showed a mean or vicious attitude toward us, but the results were there: in just about five years, she managed to make the company go off the charts as we developed internationally.
So when she asked me a few days before in her office, grasping both of my hands in hers, to free my next Friday for a party, I couldn’t refuse her.
“Hiro, I’ve got big hopes for you! The contract you managed to sign has helped us enter the Asian market, which could quadruple—scratch that, quintuple—our gains! Once the contract has been enacted and we get a bit more downtime, I’ll definitely compensate your efforts accordingly.” Her gaze took on a sly tint, one I had started to recognize all too well.
Internally I had two thoughts. One, I’m getting that sweet paycheck increase! But two, when am I even going to get time to spend my money if I work more??
Externally however I let out a bashful smile, but my perfunctory speech of gratefulness was rapidly interrupted by a knock on the door. “Chairwoman Soro? It’s me.”
The voice of my coworker was quite deep and pleasant to the ear. To be honest, he was one of my favorite people at work—fast on his feet, never sidetracked, nor a burden. I have a lot of respect for him.
“Aahhah, come on in, come on in, my boy!” The creaking of the door made me wince before a slight smile graced my lips.
“I just brought in the documents you asked for and—oh, Hiro, how are you?”
“Emeric, my boy! Just know that Hiro is definitely going places right now. You are getting fresh news straight out of the oven—well, my brain. Never mind wherever the news is coming from, it’s extra fresh! Our…”
“…here is getting promoted, and if it’s signed by the shareholder board, our Hiro will become a shareholder too!” I slowly blinked at the last part. This… is literally worth millions.
As I was internally still struck in awe, I managed to spot the slight tensing of Emeric’s expression, as if he had been slapped, his eyes slightly widening. As soon as our eyes met, he recovered a friendly air, giving me a big smile.
“Hiro, you really deserve it, as everything else.” Even though the sentence was delivered with seemingly kind intentions, the chill in my back made me unable to muster more than a simple “Thank you for your praise.”
Shaking my head at the memory of that scene, I reminded myself of the question I had just been asked. “Taking one more drink, huh?” Even though she already knew that…
Alcohol isn’t my forte, but for social events, it’s become a really important part for me. My method is just to take a glass and sip it slowly so I can toast with everyone, limiting myself to one or two drinks max. A “five-drunkards-one-glass” strategy, if I may say so myself.
“Ahahah, what a sneaky boy you are! We can’t even call you a drinker, you just dip your lips into the glass and call it quits, but the method is quite efficient.” Miss Soro’s teasing parting words were accompanied by loud and teasing goodbyes from my inebriated coworkers.
The restaurant, which doubled as a drinking spot, was situated in a bustling, high-end district. The night air felt pleasantly fresh against my skin as I made my way towards the bus station.
Weirdly enough, I felt compelled that night to take a less frequented road. The main thoroughfare was too crowded, with people busy looking like overworked business people hurrying away from their workplaces to enjoy a well-deserved weekend. The hustle and bustle were the last things I needed after my day. That’s what I thought, but I should have remembered that…
Everyone was caught up in their own lives, oblivious to what was happening around them. And so was I.
The sound of hurried footsteps behind me didn’t startle or raise any concern. “HEY wait! Hiro, HIRO!”
“Well, that’s definitely Emeric.” Coming to a halt, I turned around to face the flushed expression of the man who must have been running to catch up with me. “Wow, calm down there. What’s happening, Emeric? Did I forget something back at the restaurant?” I raised my eyebrows at his hunched-over form.
“Actually, yes! Look at this.” He raised a closed hand, still panting and supporting himself on one knee, and showed me a pendant with engraved words on it.
My gaze turned quizzical at this because…
His body was abnormally still. Finally, he turned to face me, and the expression on his face made my blood run cold. Blank, almost unseeing eyes. A wide smile stretched across his face. He straightened his body, as if he was no longer tired, and his free hand gripped mine with astonishing strength.
I was startled by the fact that I couldn’t disengage my hand from his grip. I’m not the strongest person around, but the display of strength from someone behaving abnormally was deeply concerning. My unease intensified as I felt his slender fingers tighten even more around mine, the already painful squeeze becoming agonizing.
A slow laugh rose from my colleague.
“Doesn’t everything, though?”
“What do you mean?”
“Doesn’t everything BELONG TO YOU, THOUGH?!” His eyes widened, and I saw my reflection in his hateful gaze.
“The money, the reputation, the success. Don’t you reap them all WITHOUT A CARE?!” He slipped his hand, still grasping the pendant, into his trench coat’s pocket, partially revealing a glinting fighting knife.
The commotion intensified, and the few unbothered people nearby started to show concern about the one-sided argument.
A man approached us, his weary gaze shifting between me and the bruising grip on my wrist.
No!
But instead of the word, a weak gasp escaped my lips, as if the air had been snatched out of my lungs. My head shaking gesture conveyed the opposite feeling of what I intended.
Wait, what?
My shocked expression must have prompted a further statement from the passerby.
“Well… you look sick. There’s a 24/7 coffee shop right around the corner. You should rest there a bit with your…” He glanced at the person next to me and hesitated, “…friend. The coffee and food are cheap, there’s a telephone, the staff is kind, and the toilets are always clean.”
I can get help.
Nodding, I gestured a goodbye to the stranger before taking a small step. Faced with an angry gaze, I stared back as I was forcefully dragged away.
A vice-like grip.
A voiceless body.
And worst of all, the indifference of exhausted workers.
I’m alone.
And I’m screwed.
As we walked in the direction we were given, my crazed coworker kept going without saying a word to me.
“Why?” My voice sounded weak, causing my eyes to widen slightly before a bitter chuckle shook my body.
This really is the worst.
“You,” Emeric whispered, making my body tense. “Hiro, why did you have to be so…”
Well, I do admit that I’ve always considered myself above the rest.
I’ve never been much of a social butterfly to begin with, but more significantly, I always had the impression that I was superior to others. As I continued winning competitions and climbing ranks at record speeds, I became boastful and arrogant. I never asked for anyone else’s help and was reluctant to assist others in correcting their mistakes because I felt it wasn’t my problem and wouldn’t help me advance further. Looking back I was a real douche.
The strangled sound made my colleague stop and look up towards the sky. “Hiro, I don’t know what’s happening to me. I don’t want to hurt you, but it feels like I need to. Something urges me to do it. I can’t resist it. Please, run.” With these words, the grip around my wrist loosened as my coworker grunted, seemingly winded from the effort.
Not waiting for an explanation, I started running away without looking back.
Emeric might have dementia or a split personality, but I’m no psychiatrist or savior, so I need to get myself out of this situation.
After running for a few meters, I found myself out of breath. Even in this life-or-death situation, my body couldn’t provide me with enough stamina to escape. Panting, but finally on the main street, I spotted a dense crowd of people among whom I could hide. With shaky hands, I pulled out my cellphone and dialed the police number for people with hearing or speech difficulties. If I can’t speak to someone other than Emeric, let the cops trace my location and pick me up.
I froze.
Stopped moving completely.
It wasn’t just me; everyone around me, the entire street, seemed trapped in a deathly, motionless state.
Frantically moving my eyes around, I felt my heartbeat speed up. What kind of mind fuckery is thi-
A powerful, neutral voice reverberated in my head, interrupting my cursing. “You have quite a foul mouth, human.”
The simple sentence chilled my heart, especially as the air around me began to warm up to a surprisingly comfortable state.
“Do not fret. I mean you no harm, surnamed Protagonist,” the voice continued in its monotone, which somehow made its reassurance less believable. Despite the flatness of the voice, I couldn’t ignore the stark contrast between its tone and the soothing warmth I was surrounded by. Wanting to respond, I remembered that my whole being (and perhaps the entire world, as far as I knew) was in a static state.
“Talk.”
“WELL, SOMEONE DID TRY TO CREATE A FEW MORE HOLES IN MY BODY A FEW SECONDS AGO!” Gasping at the way my voice came out toward the still invisible entity, I waited a few moments before continuing. “Uh, pardon my loss of temper, please. But with all due respect… wait, who are you anyway?”
“God.”
“Well, God, with all due respect—wait, what? God?” My voice trailed off as the single syllable word sank in, carrying all its weighty connotations.
“Am I dead?”
“Not yet.”
My knees buckled at the word “yet.”
“Am I going to be killed by this crazy mofo?”
“Yes.”
“Why? I was almost out of there. How could this monster catch up to me?”
“Because—”
Suddenly, the silent world regained motion, slowed down. The street resumed its bustling activity, but I remained frozen. A shiver ran down my spine as I heard someone approaching purposefully, pushing through the pedestrians.
I couldn’t move.
It was as if I existed on a different plane, alone with “God.”
“—your death shall be your renewal.”
“Y-you are going to get me killed. YOU ARE KILLING ME.” The realization hit me like a collapsing wall of bricks. A chuckle was the only response before a figure began materializing before me.
He looked smugly at you, as if your despair was the funniest joke he had ever heard. Anger flashed across your face as he approached, allowing your soon-to-be-dead eyes to distinguish his features.
First of all, he was quite tall, around 190 cm, which is…
Wow, it’s not every day that I meet someone as tall as me… Well, it’s not every day that I experience such life-threatening situations, so there’s that. Setting my furious gaze straight ahead, I was met by radioactive purple eyes that seemed to glow even brighter with mirth at my mesmerized expression.
Weirdly, the person in front of me wasn’t an otherworldly beauty; their facial features were ones that could easily blend into a crowd (except for the glowing eyes, I guess). But that perfect averageness… almost surgically so, made the person as a whole an entity to behold.
An entity that didn’t actively seek to harm me, but would let someone else do the job. Snapping out of my haze, I refocused my eyes before asking again, “Are you doing this to me because I am…”
“Now I know that you do exist. But my whole life, I’ve always wondered about the use of God if, even when you believed, you could end up in dire straits just like those who choose not to praise you.”
A chuckle greeted my heartfelt declarations. “The way you lived, whether you believed or not, matters not to me. You will die here. Protagonist Hiro’s current lifespan is done.”
At those words, the full weight of the surreal conversation finally sank in.
It’s the end.
All my struggles to reach the top. This party—had I known that—
All the blood, sweat, and tears I’ve spilled.
It was all for nothing—
“It wasn’t for naught. The life you are living is done. Not your existence.”
And the world, which had slowed down, started to regain its speed. Footsteps behind me transformed from a slow walk into a run.
“Why didn’t you run?” The voice felt so close, yet distant.
Yes, why couldn’t I flee?
Because it’s simply over.
I blinked slowly, finally regaining the ability to move. But…
The futility of the situation was glaring—I was almost clear, and then the universe, no, scratch that, God themselves decided I was finished and screwed me over. What could I do about it?
Sighing deeply, I turned around to face Emeric just as the knife descended.
“You crazy mother-”
The sensation of the knife piercing and twisting through my flank like butter rendered me mute with searing pain. Horrified screams echoed from bystanders on the street. Some rushed to help, others tried to apply first aid, pressing a sweater against my mutilated belly.
My collapsed body lay still. All I could hear was the man trying to help me, cursing under his breath.
“This bastard twisted the knife,” he muttered. “If the ambulance doesn’t show up soon, he’s not gonna make it, he won’t have any blood left at all.”
He pressed harder, desperation evident in his voice, as my consciousness began to fade, my body growing cold on the hard pavement.
Vast, blindingly white nothingness spread out around me, enveloping me in a warmth similar to what I had felt before.
The deep voice preceded the appearance of the attractive figure once again. The tall man facing me wore an impressed expression.
“Unflinching but not unfeeling in the face of death, defiantly spitting words at your killer before exhaling your final breath. You will surely fit into what awaits next.” The pure white space began to fade to gray.
“This time around, if you could start again, what would your life goals be?” The question might have surprised me, but after everything that had transpired, all I could manage was a sardonic chuckle. If I could start my life anew, I would relentlessly strive to…
I want to rise. My life that just ended was on a good trajectory, and without this premature end, I would have achieved even greater heights.
A new life, new goals? Don’t mess with me.
“This time, I’ll be on top of it all. The only time I’ll lower my head will be to look down on others. I’ll live on my own terms.” As I spoke, the space turned pitch black. Only the figure before me remained, pondering my words. Sensing my gaze, two purple eyes met mine.
“Your wishes and desires, I’ve heard them.”
It may seem like a lot of corrections but they are all, mostly, minor grammar and pacing corrections that make the text clearer and easier to read. If you wanted to do this for yourself there are tools available that you could use for your current writing. As much as I dislike LLM AI, this sort of basic copy editing is one thing it excels at. Try getting your writing to a point you’re happy at and then run it through ChatGPT asking it to copy edit it for you. That will iron out the majority of minor issues, while keeping the tone and content the same.
6 Likes
wow this is really great and insightful feedback, thank you a lot !
This is the kind of review that makes me want to work harder because some people care enough about what I produce to want the quality to improve, thanks !
11 Likes
Loool, sorry to you and @anon12679161 
, I just wanted to let truck-kun’s twice removed cousin, train-chan, get her chance at stardom and life reaping too.
I want to troll y’all and put another death but still not truck-kun, and instead a tractor aka the honorary family member of the isekai deaths.
9 Likes
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Me : me ? Liking to make my characters suffer and my readers go through insurmontable sorrows and pain ? Never.
VS
The type of business I’m on :
(this game might reach some Gege Akutami levels of torture ngl)
9 Likes
@mah_sanogo
Just realized I already asked this (look at the edits if curious) but on the same line could you give hints or just say what the other dark paths are gonna be if you know them
1 Like
bro wants to give us the kazuma death 
5 Likes
Classic getting stabbed probably my go to choice than getting run over by Truck kun or Train chan, maybe I can write stuff to convict my assailant than let them go free.
I think i get a bug.
After the shopping with cosmo albas. Choice the concern choice about the clothe. Line repeat themselve and i get a " line 41: No selectable options " bug.
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Are you trying to give us a Konosuba death?
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no death better than Kazuma’s…i think truck-kun is my personal fav
2 Likes
Never mind, i find that its the end of the demo (weird announcement by the way).
The path i choose the first time didn’t have this end of demo announcement.
I have so many questions but I will ask the biggest one. Does our carrier path effect the story in any major way. For example if I take intelligence path will I be locked from another path or will most of the paths be same with some flavor text. Also I like the mental gymnastics our MC does when one chooses the Fighter path. Tanya will be rolling in his grave 
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I think I’ve seen somewhere that the story will diverge according to your chosen station/squad I vaguely remember there is like medic team, vanguard team, intelligence team and such.
Probably will determine who you will be close by, where you will be in the battlefield later, because from the story among your friends they’re also in different squad having specialities in different field each.
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Yup, I plan on making at least another “evil” path in the beginning ! Maybe drug lord type of things, I mean I’m no criminal so imma have to find a good idea that isn’t like what i did in the gambling den
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If I were Kazuma and that Aqua had even given me the opportunity to go back to my first life I wouldn’t because how the heck are you going to tell me that I just peed myself and died of fright ? Hell no I ain’t going back ! 
I was just playing with y’all I don’t plan on making another death path (except on the “evil” path)
Yeah !
The truck/train etc… is the mother trope of isekai but the thing is that there’s barely anything to play on that. The train path’s length is due to MC talking about what they were planning to do with their younger sibling. The actual death scene is just MC getting pushed and directly talking with the “God”.
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Ask them lol !
No I will actually write different story lines during the career MC choose. It’d be a bit dishonest to try to write off someone doing field work as the same thing as someone working in intel. I’ll make a poll to see which path y’all will prefer starting with because each one will be quite big ngl.
All these paths will lead back to the main story line but you’ll get a different experience.
Tanya, the sovereign of mental gymnastics (only for them to backfire horribly lol)
Yup depending on the path, you’ll have one of the homies not too far away !
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I need to start correcting typos/mistakes/formatting (I’ve had pretty great feedback from @anon12679161, thanks again). I wanted to start this week but I just sidetracked, took my drawing pad and drew my pookie Nanami Kento
BUT ANYHOW
I will start working on that, while also thinking about the career paths (the ones you talked about with the head teacher after the party). These paths will be pretty long and they won’t come out quickly. So I’ll let you decide which path you’d like to see being written first.
Which path goes first ?
- fighting unit
- intelligence unit
- interrogation unit
- medic unit
0
voters
12 Likes