I'm a Young God, so Please Raise Me - Chapter 1

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com

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Chapter 1
Director: Go-yo, there’s a coaching position available. Come by whenever you’re ready.
SGY: Player, this is Day News. Would an interview be possible….
I turned on my phone screen to check the time, and an unread message notification appeared.
It had been years since I retired as a professional gamer, yet they still called me “player.”
The Director should have given up by now, but he kept reaching out with stubborn persistence.
I glanced down at my own hands for a moment.
Four years after the accident, they looked perfectly fine on the surface and caused no problems in daily life.
They just couldn’t compete at a professional level anymore.
With a familiar flick of my fingers, I dismissed the notifications and left only the live streaming alerts enabled.
It was broadcast time for my favorite M-Tuber. I had no time to waste on messages I wouldn’t read anyway.
I turned on my computer, logged into the live stream, and immediately sent a donation.
My username and donation message appeared prominently in the chat window.
The M-Tuber broke into a bright smile and called out to me.
“Welcome, Gunbam!”
[Gunbam: Hello]
My greeting was quickly buried beneath the flood of messages from eager viewers.
[save me save me please get me out i can’t break free]
[i can’t do this anymore hahahaha]
[i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry]
[i’m dying it hurts it hurts it hurts]
[ending? how? please ending]
The M-Tuber’s broadcast didn’t attract a huge audience.
There were only a few dozen viewers, but since they were all loyal followers, the chat was far more active than on larger streams.
Another peculiar thing was that while small broadcasts usually fostered camaraderie among viewers, this one had viewers who showed no interest in each other whatsoever.
They were only focused on telling the M-Tuber what they wanted.
But strangely, that’s what I liked about it. Without unnecessary attention, my mind felt at ease.
“I was waiting just for you, Gunbam.”
[Gunbam: I was waiting for your broadcast too.]
Beyond everything else, I genuinely loved this M-Tuber.
I sent the message with an embarrassed smile.
I debuted as a professional gamer at nineteen and built a respectable career before retiring.
It was a forced retirement due to an accident, and becoming unemployed overnight left me desperately bored.
So I searched for something to fill that boredom and ended up starting to play games.
After getting absorbed in various online games, I eventually turned my attention to packaged games, indiscriminately exploring everything from AAA titles to indie games.
That’s when I discovered an indie game that perfectly matched my taste.
I stayed up for two nights straight to see all the endings, and naturally began searching for the creator’s other games.
That’s how I eventually stumbled upon the creator’s live broadcast.
That was two years ago.
As a devoted viewer of the creator, I gained an incredible privilege: testing games still in development.
Since I was a solo developer, all my games were indie titles with pixel art graphics.
But thanks to the creative settings and stories, I could immerse myself in playing them far more than any other game.
The genres were diverse with no overlap, and remarkably, all those games were interconnected within one vast universe.
It was called Akasha World.
For two years, I’d spent my time joyfully within his world, test-playing the games he’d hand over to me.
I typed in the chat, eager to see what kind of game he’d created this time.
[Gunbam: The game you gave me last time was really fun.]
“I knew you’d find the true ending, Gunbam.”
How did he know I’d cleared the true ending?
I blinked for a moment.
But it wasn’t strange—he’d probably noticed that I’d been pulling all-nighters to see every ending the moment I received each game.
Shaking off my confusion, I asked.
[Gunbam: What game is it today?]
M-Tuber, who had somehow plucked my message from the flood of chat messages pouring in from viewers, let out a chuckle.
“Well, there’s no game today.”
Then he suddenly leaned his face close to the camera.
My body instinctively recoiled slightly at the sight of his face filling the entire screen.
M-Tuber’s eyes gleamed under the studio lights as he whispered.
“And there won’t be any from now on.”
My heart sank.
“No game?”
For someone who’d enjoyed all sorts of games thanks to M-Tuber, this news was like a bolt from the blue.
Unlike me, frozen in shock, M-Tuber seemed unusually excited today.
Anyone watching would’ve thought he’d just won the lottery.
[Game?No?Game?No?Can I leave?Turn it off?Give it back?]
[I want to leave, I’m sorry, save me]
[Already over? How boring.]
[Finally finally die die die die]
The chat exploded in response to M-Tuber’s bombshell announcement.
I barely managed to move my fingers through the deluge of messages.
[Gunbam: That’s disappointing…. May I ask why?]
“Because it’s finally over.”
M-Tuber spoke in a remarkably relieved tone.
“Thank you for everything. It’s all thanks to you, Gunbam.”
Was he saying he was quitting the broadcast entirely?
Would he continue game development? Or was he giving that up too?
It was common for solo developers to stop developing for various reasons.
But it felt like such a waste. He was a developer with genius-level talent.
Just look at how much the viewers of this broadcast loved his games.
‘Couldn’t he release a few through early access or something?’
I gnawed at my lips, already aware that there were numerous games of considerable polish in existence.
I stopped mid-keystroke as I began typing a question in the chat.
It shouldn’t have been possible, yet I felt as though my eyes had met those of the M-Tuber on the other side of the screen.
The M-Tuber, staring directly into the camera, stretched his lips wide in a smile that split his face horizontally.
In that instant, a warm sensation flooded through me, and my nose began to bleed.
“Ugh….”
My eyes burned as a throbbing headache split my skull.
Perhaps it was from staying up all night and watching the broadcast immediately after.
As I rose from my seat to search for tissues, a voice reached my ears.
“Gunbam, you are the finest viewer I have ever encountered. If it’s you, you can accomplish it. I discovered you and confirmed it myself.”
I finally found tissues and pressed them to my nose, then looked back at the screen.
The M-Tuber was still gazing directly into the camera.
“From now on, I shall become your viewer, Gunbam.”
Since earlier, he had spoken nothing but incomprehensible words. I pressed the bridge of my nose and tapped the keyboard with one hand.
[Gunbam: I don’t understand what you’re saying.]
“I’m so excited. I’ve been waiting for this for such a very long time. So very, very, very long.”
By this point, it was impossible not to recognize that the M-Tuber’s state was abnormal.
He didn’t seem drunk. Surely he wasn’t on drugs or something…?
As a long-time loyal viewer, I was about to type a suggestion that he end the broadcast when—
“Shall we begin now?”
He called out my name.
“Han Go-yo.”
A name I had never once revealed to him.
The moment my lips parted in shock, the entire world warped.
My ordinary, unremarkable one-room apartment melted and crumpled, drenched in garish, splotchy neon colors.
A cheerful notification sound rang out, and a system window materialized before my eyes.
‘Han Go-yo’ has announced their name to Akasha World!
Current Recognition: 0.01%
Incomprehensible system windows surged forth, obscuring my vision.
I confirmed the final system window and lost consciousness.
You are the system of the planet ‘Earth’.

***
String music pours through an old, weathered speaker.
The noise that continuously mingles between the drawn-out notes grates against my ears, and I furrow my brow.
I open my eyes with a groan.
Before me lies a sight I have never witnessed in my entire life.
An interior composed of vibrant, multicolored hues. A mural with an adorable character painted in massive proportions. Toy packaging boxes stacked as high as a Christmas tree.
No matter how I looked at it, this space was worlds apart from my one-room apartment.
It looked like some kind of toy factory.
With the lingering headache still faintly present, I press my temples repeatedly and examine my surroundings once more.
A large sign with round, bubbly typography is plastered across the wall.
It was a very familiar text. Even as my eyes read it, I couldn’t believe it, and I ended up reading it aloud.
“Happy Smile Factory…?”
I hastily re-examine the character mural I had glimpsed earlier.
Welcome to Happy Smile Factory!
We are toy friends who will make you happy.
Let’s all shout together! Happy Smile!
Cute toy characters with adorable messages are smiling happily.
Cold sweat drenches my spine.
Because Happy Smile Factory was….
a game created by my favorite developer.
Did the developer kidnap me and lock me in a place similar to their game?
I consider the most plausible hypothesis, but it makes no sense.
Who would kidnap an unemployed former pro gamer? It would be utterly pointless.
Frozen by the surreal situation, I slowly push myself up from the ground.
“…Wow.”
As I rise, I catch sight of the clothes I’m wearing and let out a hollow laugh.
I am wearing a Happy Smile Factory work uniform.
On the chest of the eye-catching lime-green uniform is a name tag with the Happy Smile mark.
Employee: Gun-bam
I try to scratch the name tag affixed with embroidered patches, but it remains firmly attached.
I search my pockets hoping to find something useful, but find only dust.
Instead, a pocket containing a flashlight hangs from my waist.
It was the exact same start as the game’s opening.
“This is insane.”
A curse escapes my lips involuntarily. I wipe my face with my hand.
Happy Smile Factory was the first game I ever played by this developer.
It was about a player who awakens in a toy factory, searching for lost memories and uncovering the factory’s hidden secrets to escape.
The problem was the toys.
The toys in this place despise “adults” greatly. Thus, they seek to eliminate any adult who enters the factory without permission—namely, the player.
So if the current situation unfolds like Happy Smile Factory….
I must escape the factory while evading the murderous toys.
If someone crazy enough to prepare a factory of this scale existed, they’d surely have prepared a murderer wearing a toy mask as well.
What should I do?
I abandoned the thinking of a reasonable person and tried to follow the logic of a madman instead.
It seemed like it might be worth trying to approach this like playing a game.
If it followed game logic, the objective would be to escape from the factory.
I moved cautiously across the lobby, preparing to venture deeper inside.
Crash!
An enormous sound erupted from within the factory.
‘Could the toys already be moving?’
If so, there was no advantage to staying outside.
I vaulted over the entrance turnstile gate and rushed in.
Thick dust rose up, obscuring my vision. I was searching for a place to breathe, hastily covering my nose with my sleeve.
Suddenly my throat constricted and my body was lifted off the ground.
“Gasp!”
The rigid plastic sensation choked me, and I thrashed about briefly before my assailant set me down on the ground just as quickly.
A startled voice rang out.
“What? A civilian?”
As the dust cleared, the person who had strangled my throat came into view.
Short hair, petite frame, sharp features—a beautiful woman.
Beside her stood a man dressed in the same work clothes.
The moment our eyes met, a rectangular system window materialized.
‘Mo Hae-in’ has been discovered!
‘Mo Hae-in’ is a registrable character. Will you register her?

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com

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