Vol 1 Chapter 0 – Prologue

Have you ever heard of a “Chastity-Reversed World”?

To put it in old-school terms, it’s a situation you might see in foreign sci-fi novels where the power dynamic between men and women has been flipped.

To put it in new-school terms, it’s probably a world where female libido has replaced that of the male.

The male-to-female ratio is skewed, and in the crazy world that results, male chastity is treated as precious while female chastity is treated as trivial.

In short, women have become the carnivores, while men find libido distasteful and scorn it in women.

Ah, well, whatever.

Fifteen years have passed since I, Ichirou Kajiwara, was reincarnated into such a world.

“…Well now.”

I have memories of my past life.

It was a perfectly ordinary world, and a perfectly ordinary life.

Well, maybe not an average life. I was a virgin in my thirties, after all.

My life’s final score, in terms of happiness, must have been pretty low.

I was what you’d call an otaku.

I loved physical trading card games, I loved online games, and I loved anime, manga, and light novels.

That was the kind of life it was.

But I didn’t have a single regret.

If there was one, it would probably be how suddenly I died.

A robber, who must have seen a card in the display case worth hundreds of thousands of yen and mistakenly thought the register would be full of cash, burst into the card game shop.

I happened to be talking to the clerk at the time, and the robber stabbed me in the stomach with a knife as a threat.

It might have been a cooler story if I’d been reincarnated protecting someone, but I was just a random victim.

I think I definitely died.

And then, I was reincarnated into this world.

Of all places, a crazy world full of carnivorous women with a 1:20 male-to-female ratio.

“Untap, upkeep, draw.”

I chant it like a spell.

Untap is, literally, the action of turning my tapped—or sideways—cards back upright.

Upkeep is the step after the untap, where the abilities of cards on the field can activate if necessary.

Draw is, literally, the action of drawing a card.

Finishing the sequence, I stare at the card I drew.

I scowled.

It’s a bad card.

What I want to draw is an end card that will bring the game to a close, a so-called “bomb” that will seal my opponent’s defeat.

Not a card I should have drawn in the early game, one meant for chipping away at their life with quick attacks.

I feel the urge to click my tongue, but I don’t. It’s vulgar.

The most important thing in a card game is the decorum to enjoy it with your opponent.

It isn’t victory or glory.

“I could surrender… but no, please, finish me.”

“Aye, aye.”

The girl before me, Club President Takahashi, chirps.

She’s a woman.

A rare sight in the card game industry—a protected class so scarce that they get half-off entry fees to tournaments.

That’s what female players were like in my past life.

Of course, you couldn’t call her the lone rose among thorns in this chastity-reversed world.

On the contrary, I’m the only guy in this otaku club.

I’m the lone thorn among roses.

So what? What’s it to you?

I feel like saying that.

But in the end, it doesn’t change the course of my life one bit.

People don’t change.

Even if I’m reincarnated into this crazy, carnivorous world with a 1:20 gender ratio, it’s a civilized world, no different from my last one.

There are card games, manga, and light novels.

So there’s no reason for me to change.

I’ll just enjoy its subculture to the fullest.

Until I die.

Until the very end.

If there is a God, I’m grateful for letting me reincarnate.

“All creatures attack. What do you do?”

“I won’t block with any creature. I’ll take the damage directly. Damage taken. I’m dead.”

I died.

Literally, I died, was brought back to life, and am being allowed to live a second life in a similar civilized society.

If this isn’t happiness, what is?

“Thanks for the game.”

“Thanks for the game.”

As the game ends, we both exchange pleasantries.

I also give a small bow.

A poster, written in calligraphy, is tacked to the wall with a thumbtack. It reads: A Gamer Must Be a Lady.

That was the motto for us card gamers, across both my past and current lives.

The only difference, I suppose, is that it says “Lady” instead of “Gentleman.”

Well, in this messed-up world, male gamers are practically nonexistent.

It can’t be helped.

“What was your last card?”

In response to President Takahashi’s question, I show her my hand.

My single card was a useless piece of trash that served no purpose in the late game.

“Ah, looking at your deck build, if you had drawn a bomb—a big, fast creature—I would have lost instead.”

“Since I didn’t draw it, I lost.”

It’s not like I die if I lose a game.

I don’t even feel particularly frustrated about it.

This isn’t a tournament or anything, just a practice match within the club.

“Wanna go another round? Should we bet something?”

“A betting match? Are we wagering cards? Or money?”

I’d rather not.

I have fun just playing the card game.

I may try to seize victory, but in the truest sense, winning isn’t my objective.

I’m happy just being able to play.

“There’s actually something I want to ask of you.”

President Takahashi looks up at me with upturned eyes.

She’s short, around 140 cm, but has a well-endowed figure for her size.

With her black bobbed hair, you could say she’s quite a beauty.

Though for now, my only interest in her is as a card game opponent.

She wears silver-rimmed glasses, and she spoke as they glinted.

“What is it? It depends on the details.”

She wants to make her request into a bet?

Well, I guess I can hear her out.

“Would you like to enter a card game tournament?”

“Hm? Why’s that?”

“Because I’m lonely.”

I look around us.

Okay, I see what she means.

Currently, there are only two people in our club who play card games.

To be precise, there are five club members in total.

“Look, it’s not that I think it’s bad that we’re the only two playing card games all the time, okay? I don’t mind it at all. But, you know, I thought it might be nice to get out once in a while.”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

I glance around the clubroom.

clack, clack

I see the other three, drawing lines on their liquid-crystal tablets.

They aren’t looking our way.

As if they had no interest whatsoever, they were frantically drawing their manga.

A doujinshi.

They were on the verge of their submission deadline and working with a demonic intensity.

The club I belong to is an otaku club.

To be more precise, it’s called the ‘Modern Culture Research Club,’ and its purpose is to enjoy or create subculture.

Card games, online games, anime, manga, light novels—anything goes.

Anything goes, but my main activity is tabletop games.

The club’s main activity, however, had primarily become publishing doujinshi.

“Sure. Getting some fresh air sounds nice.”

“Whoa, it’s great that you’ll do it, but I wanted to make it a bet.”

Why?

I already said I’d do it.

Entering a card game tournament doesn’t sound bad at all.

“We want you to be a salesperson, too.”

I heard a voice mutter softly.

It was the girl with the black, braided hair—Ryoune Segawa-senpai.

She’s a year older than me.

She has a very prim and proper appearance—the kind that says I have nothing to do with boys—which you could say is typical for an otaku.

Well, her looks don’t matter to me, but her chest is so ridiculously huge it’s hard to know where to look.

It’s not like I still have lingering feelings for women, but I do still have a sex drive.

“A salesperson? For what?”

“The doujinshi.”

“…Me? A salesperson?”

I mean, I’m an otaku, so I’ve been to doujinshi conventions in my past life.

But still.

“…You’re not going to tell me I have to cosplay, are you?”

“No, we wouldn’t go that far.”

I didn’t quite have the guts to cosplay just yet.

“I don’t mind. Just being a salesperson is fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“You just need someone to draw in customers, right? And a guy is more likely to help things sell.”

“…That’s right.”

Segawa-senpai says, her voice thick with emotion.

If that’s all it is, I don’t mind.

We may not talk much, but we’re in the same club.

“Okay, I’ll do it. So, what was that again? What’s the reason for the bet?”

“Well, we were thinking you should do something for the club too, Kajiwara-kun. And it’d be boring for you to just play card games with me all the time. So, we were all talking and decided to make a bet on whether you’d go to the tournament or be the salesperson…”

Clunk.

President Takahashi tilts her head to the side like a small doll.

Cute.

“If I won, we’d go to the tournament together. If I lost, you’d be the salesperson. We all agreed on that, but I guess there’s no point now. Let’s forget the bet. Kajiwara-kun, you’re surprisingly active for a guy.”

The men of this world are not active.

They’re passive in one way or another, wanting to avoid being sexually targeted.

At the very least, you couldn’t call them sociable.

“I joined this club seeking interaction and fellow otaku in the first place. You can use me for the sake of the club’s activities.”

“You’re right. See? I told you there was no need to worry.”

President Takahashi says cheerfully to the others, who are still staring intently at their tablets.

It seems they had mistaken me for being passive, like other men.

They’re wrong.

I want to enjoy my otaku life to the fullest, just like in my previous life.

That’s all there is to it.

“…Thank you.”

Segawa-senpai murmured.

Her gaze remained fixed on her tablet, not on me.