World conquest with toys? Impossible!

Such foolish wishes exist only in fiction; such absurd desires are harbored only by villains in manga and anime… That’s what I thought.

But that common sense was mine alone, and what I thought was absurd wasn’t necessarily impossible in this world.

This world… Yes, I know of another world’s existence. On my fifth birthday, as I was delirious with a high fever, teetering on the brink between life and death, I came into what seemed to be memories from a previous life.

A man born into an ordinary family lived a safe, unremarkable life, then suddenly collapsed from chest pain in his apartment, dying alone in a sad ending.

Initially, I thought this:

They are similar in age and are from the same country, Japan, but several inconsistencies exist. Slightly different from my previous world… Maybe a parallel world?

With just that level of awareness, I blissfully enjoyed my new life. Looking back, I was carefree, not considering the dangers of this world.

Yet, as time went on, this sense of unease only deepened.

People around me with ridiculous hair colors like red, blue, green, yellow, and pink, and my parents with their unusually high physical abilities.

And then, my mother, spouting nonsense about acquiring a suitable Soul as a member of our clan, began to demand what amounted to abusive training.

This isn’t normal; this world is somehow wrong. At least, it was abnormal compared to my previous life’s knowledge.

But to the people around me, this abnormality… No, to everyone else but me, it wasn’t considered abnormal.

This world has gone mad, a realization that dawned on me alone. From the perspective of those around me, it was my values that appeared deranged.

I was terrified, unbearably so.

Compared to my previous life, people with abnormal physical abilities and hair and the glowing mystery power called “Soul” that my mother was obsessively attached to not sending me to kindergarten or nursery but instead subjecting me, a child, to training in a bizarre family.

Considering these factors, a hypothesis emerged.

Could it be that I was born into a world filled with peril, where supernatural abilities and battles abound? A world with a setting like a battle manga, where those who wield the mysterious power called “Soul” engage in life-threatening fights?

When I realized this possibility, I fainted from fear and despair. I remember my usually stern mother rushing to me with a pale face.

The fear of death grips me, an unbearable terror.

Of course, being born human, everyone feels the same; it’s just that I’m particularly cowardly, or perhaps it’s a common rite of passage for a child to become aware of and fear death.

But no, I have memories of dying once. Even if it exists only in my memories, I have experienced death.

The gradual loss of consciousness, being engulfed in darkness, the soul-shaking cold, all sounds, all light, and every sensation stolen by the cold darkness.

It was an utterly lonely and hopeless experience. I had never imagined death could be so terrifying.

Therefore, I fear death. I am convinced that my life is the most precious thing.

To avoid the fear of death, to live without my life being threatened, and to know that peace and safety are the most valuable things to me.

Following my collapse from fear, I outright rejected every bit of training my mother tried to force upon me. Despite the scolding and coercion, I remained adamantly opposed to the training, clinging to the floor and pillars, crying and screaming in refusal.

It was clear that if I followed my mother’s training, I would be led into days of fighting due to some clan duty she wouldn’t explain to me, but it was obvious to me.

Compared to my previous life’s memories, it was clear. Families that start talking about duties are always fighting something.

In the current world, with its overly fictional setting, that becomes a reality. The existence of parents with high physical abilities and the mysterious power called “Soul” is good evidence. No doubt about it.

After I began refusing the training, the atmosphere at home worsened.

My mother was desperate to train me.

My father wanted to respect my refusal.

My younger sister often cried out of fear of our parents’ frequent arguments.

And me, steadfastly refusing the training.

Thus, our family’s hearts began to drift apart.

Then, when I was six, my mother gave up on training me, deciding my sister would fulfill the duty instead.

And by the year’s end, the inevitable happened: my parents divorced. My sister stayed with my mother, and my father and I changed our surnames and left the house.

I feel guilty and sorry for my sister, but my safety is irreplaceable. Forgive me.

As my father drove us towards our new home, the once-forbidden scenery unfolded before me, feeling utterly new. The slightly futuristic townscape made me realize that the Japan I knew was something else.

“Mamoru, once we settle in Gotama Town, you’ll start attending elementary school. Your loneliness or anxiety will surely disappear once you make friends.”

My father spoke to me while driving.

Unfortunately, making friends doesn’t necessarily bring comfort. Friends can’t protect me from physical danger.

But from my father’s perspective, I’m a child who has never attended kindergarten, nursery, or elementary school, spending all my time training at home. He wants to reassure me that life will be different from now on. I’ll gratefully accept his sentiment.

“Yeah, I think it’ll be fun if I make friends.”

Whether we’ll get along, I honestly don’t know. The only peer I’ve ever spoken to is my sister. I have no idea what a standard second-grade elementary school student in this world is like.

Well, it can’t be too different from my previous life. Playing tag or hide-and-seek, talking about manga or anime, laughing at poop and pee jokes—that’s what boys do. If I remember those basics, there shouldn’t be a problem.

“Ah, playing with friends is fun. I couldn’t teach you that before. How to have fun, how to make friends…”

Hmm, my father still feels responsible. I think the family fell apart because I refused the training.

Honestly, I don’t dislike my father. Nor do I hate my mother, even though I think she’s crazy. I even find my sister adorable. I love my family, just like anyone else would.

Yet, above everything else, my safety and peace of mind were paramount. Even if it meant my family would be torn apart, I did not want to undergo such training. I couldn’t just ignore the possibility of my life being endangered.

“Right, there’s a case inside the bag I gave you. Open it and take a look.”

Huh, a case? Ah, this one.

Hidden among the moving boxes, I found a hand-sized metal case, its surface adorned with intricate decorations. What’s this? Looks expensive, doesn’t it?

“Once the new term starts, you should use what’s inside that case to play with your classmates. That way, you’ll make friends in no time.”

Ah, so it contains a toy. But isn’t it a bad idea to bring this to elementary school? It’s going to be confiscated.

While thinking such thoughts, I opened the box and took out the contents.

It was indeed a toy. A small humanoid toy that fits in the palm of my hand, dressed in armor trimmed with gold metal on a white body, with a hollow space in its abdomen… Quite cool-looking.

Feeling it, I could tell it wasn’t made of cheap plastic. It had a substantial feel, indicating it was a high-quality toy.

But this is…

“This is the ‘Peace Moon’ Soul Shooter, crafted exclusively for you. Treasure it well.”

This is… a B-Daman, right?

Definitely, it’s one of those toys where you load marbles into the stomach cavity and shoot them, ranking top among toys that are unclear how to play with.

“Um, Dad? How do you play with this? And do the others have one, too…?”

Is B-Daman popular in this world, too? Even if it is, bringing it to elementary school would be something only a handful of troublemakers would do.

“In Gotama Town, where we’re moving, Soul Shooters are very popular. The town’s Soul specializes in shooter battles, so it’s just right that there’s a battle dome nearby. Let’s watch a Shooter Battle. Seeing it in person will make it easier to understand.”

“Huh?”

What? What are you talking about, Dad? Soul Shooter? Shooter Battle? Battle Dome? I don’t get it.

Ignoring my confusion, Dad continued to drive. After turning right and going for about ten minutes, our destination appeared.

“Wow… Isn’t that huge?”

A dome. Indeed, there was a dome there, about the same size as the Tokyo Dome from my previous life. This is the Battle Dome?

“Eh? Dad, you don’t mean this facility is specifically for this toy? That can’t be right, can it?”

“No, the Battle Dome is a facility dedicated to Soul Gear. Since this is already Gotama Town, it’s exclusive to Soul Shooters.”

Could it be that B-Daman is this revered? Such a notion is bewildering…

“Excuse me, one adult and one child ticket, please. Are there any tickets left?”

Dad asked the ticket booth attendant. Do they charge money for this kind of show? Do people pay to watch marble shooting battles?

“Yes, there are still standing-room tickets available. Today is the Gotama Town Winter Cup Junior Division Finals. If you hurry, you can still make it.”

Eh, a dome for a town-level tournament? Before I knew it, Dad had bought the tickets. So, I quietly followed.

The stands were packed, astonishing for a local tournament to fill such a large venue. The audience was not just children but a wide range of ages.

And the dome was engulfed in excitement. To be this engrossed in B-Daman, this world is strange.

“Mamoru, this is a Shooter Battle.”

Encouraged by Dad, I looked towards the arena. For some reason, the field looked like a rugged wilderness with rocks and ground, where children my age faced each other.

“Ladies and gentlemen!! The Winter Gotama Town Cup Junior Division Finals will start soon!! The overwhelming power shooter, Sora Sorato!! The unparalleled sniper, Kai Suisei!! The destined rivals will finally clash on the stage of the finals!!”

The announcer’s hype stirred the audience, causing a loud roar to shake the dome, making me cover my ears involuntarily. It’s too loud…

“Kai! Sky Falcon and I have changed since last time! This time, I’ll win!”

The amplified voices echoed throughout the dome. What’s with this atmosphere?

“Hmph, it’s futile, Sora. There’s no enemy before me and Sea Serpent. The result will be the same as last time.”

But still, I can’t see any targets? How do they compete? What are they shooting at?

“Alright, both participants, do I have your consent!? Then, let the Shooter Battle… begin!”

The referee is also overly enthusiastic, with an annoying level of excitement.

“Here we go! Sky Falcon!”

“Take this! Sea Serpent!”

“Fight!!”

The match started. Glowing orbs shot from their machines towards… each other, with marbles flying towards the people holding the toys. Huh…

They’re shooting marbles at each other!? At people!? Isn’t that dangerous!?

“Dad? So, Shooter Battles involve shooting marbles at each other? Isn’t that dangerous?”

Did they recommend such a dangerous game to me? The marbles flying across the field are blowing away rocks and the ground. That’s too much power for a toy…

“Mamoru, they’re not in their physical bodies. They’ve transformed into Soul bodies, so there’s no danger. And they’re shooting masses of Soul… why marbles, though?”

Soul… bodies? Shooting Soul? Why marbles… I don’t know either. Ask Takara Tomy.

“No, I was just wondering, Dad. Shooter Battles are amazing, huh?”

The two on the field had parts of their stomachs and arms blown off, all because of the Soul shots they exchanged.

This is more like a gunfight than a hobby battle. Soul bodies must be some kind of temporary form, but it’s a terrifying sight. It feels like watching a gladiator fight in the Colosseum of ancient times.

“Ah, Shooter Battles are fun. Making friends will be easy if you share your Shooter soul through battles. Mamoru could become an amazing Shooter.”

No, I don’t want to. What’s a Shooter soul? I don’t want to be part of such gunfights. Friendship born from that? That’s crazy.

“Actually, that ‘Peace Moon’ was prepared by your mother for you. It was supposed to be given to you after you completed your Soul training, but now you don’t have any duties. Just enjoy Shooter Battles purely as Tanaka Mamoru.”

My mother? And Soul training was for…?

“Um, Dad? What was the Soul training for? What duty does our clan have?”

“Your mother’s clan has been protecting people from evil doers with Soul Gear for generations. But you don’t need to worry about any duties now. Your mother didn’t make you undergo harsh training because she hated you. Please understand that.”

Wait, so my clan forces children to train to master B-Daman? To raise a child cut off from media peers and then have them play B-Daman? Fight what evil with B-Daman, evil organizations, corporations, and evil B-Dama users?

“…”

“Mamoru, it might be hard to sort your feelings now. Take your time. Going to elementary school, playing shooter battles with friends, or enjoying yourself. That’s all your father and mother wish for.”

This is insane… A clan that forces children to train to master toys is not normal. It’s crazy, they’re delusional…

I thought this world was about supernatural battles with mystical powers.

But I was wrong. It’s a battle-themed world but a different genre.

I’ve stumbled upon… a world dominated by hobby anime!

A world where toys being promoted are at the center of its value system is a mad world. That’s the true nature of this world.

This is absurd. I refuse to be ensnared by this world’s madness. No amount of coercion will drag me into these Shooter Battles.

I’ll enjoy life safely and peacefully. I’ll never do Shooter Battles… never!