The rest of my short vacation was uneventful.
After the mission was done, I got my reward in the form of rare items and a stack of cash. Naturally, I was glad that I could buy two boxes of real-grade g*nplas because of that, but I realized that Blanc would get mad if I didn't bring her a souvenir besides a boring story that couldn't be used as a reference.
Yes, that meant I had no choice but to scour every inch of Leanbox for a good story material. Result wise...
"There was nothing of value."
In the spacious Japanese-style throne room that was the Lowee's Basilicom, I gave my blunt report to this nation's De Facto ruler. I waited for the judgment I deserved, but the axe-wielding goddess flattened her gaze as if she found something was wrong with my head.
"...The way you worded it is off-putting," Blanc elaborated from her seat behind the work desk. "What's with that thuggish answer? If you want to sound like an End of Century's small fry, at least change your hairstyle, idiot."
"Hah ha ha. My perfectly messy hair that always grow a cowlick every morning has nothing to do with this!"
I'd kill myself first before I had the thought of having a mohawk, but jokes aside, I needed to find a better excuse, lest my head roll off for real. I swept the ceramic teacup in my hand and drank Lowee's famous matcha tea. Once the warm drink drowned both my thirst and anxiety, I exhaled and looked at Blanc in the eye.
"...I got nothing. Can I leave now?"
The brunette warmly smiled and raised her right fist. I prostrated to beg for mercy.
Thankfully, the goddess had some remaining in her cold, frigid and serene heart. She even lowered her hand even though she didn't do that before! What a miracle! Has she learned something from that Lego-like former villain!?
"Hmm? What's with that look? Do you want to be hit for real?"
"Ah, wait! I was joking! Don't take out the hammer!" I scurried back with both of my hands raised. "Can't you at least give me a chance to redeem myself!?"
"Excuse me but I have work to do, you jackass! Get to the point already!"
Ugh… do you see now, readers? Blanc is no fun unless all of her buttons are flipped correctly.
If you really wanted to see her cute side, you'd better act extraordinarily assertive like those suicidal silent protagonists in the Drama CDs. I guarantee you a moment that could melt your heart in exchange of one life.
...Well, setting aside my lack of desire to flirt with a jailbait-looking goddess…
"...Is it just me or have you not learned anything at all?" Blanc's eyebrow twitched.
I waved immediately. "Just hear me out first, Blanc. This is something I've been wanting to talk but unable to because of various reasons."
"Now you're making up excuses…"
Be quiet. This is still my turn. Now, where should I start…
"Blanc," I paused. "I'm thinking of living the rest of my life in this world. What do you think?"
There was a sound of a dropped pin. I expected something violent to come up in three… two… one—
"...I see."
...Huh? Did I hear it right?
"You won't ask why?" I asked, feeling incredulous at the dry reaction.
"Do I look like I want to know?" Blanc scoffed while showing a neutral expression. "I can't influence your final decision. After all, didn't you say 'I am the captain of my soul' before?"
I smiled sheepishly while trying my best to not shudder out of giddiness. She got me there…
"...I'd prefer Vert telling me that," I remarked. "Or Noire. Either of them would have made it look more legit."
Blanc rolled her eyes to the side. "And I am the first goddess in the continent."
"Probably the second or third," I swiftly corrected. "There was Tari, after all."
"...Right. There was that." The goddess nodded. "But my point still stands."
Yes yes. I understand, my fair lady. Now, then…
"Since I got your blessing…" I readjusted my sitting position to feel a little bit more comfortable. "How about I give you some writing advice? I cooked it up after 5pb asked me a peculiar question."
Blanc tilted her head. She didn't say yes or no, but that meant I could do whatever I wanted. I felt grateful about that, so I respectfully bowed my head before I started my lesson.
"When you write a Self-Insert story, what do you have in mind?"
"...How meta." Blanc dryly replied, "But if that is truly your question, then I will begin by asking myself a question."
"And that is?"
" "...What do Iwant from this story?" "
Blanc leaned back. She rolled her shoulders lightly and placed her hat at the corner of the table. After that, she tilted her head and looked below her work desk. It turned out she was searching out a note and a pen.
"Self-Insert stories assume that you are putting yourself in the shoe of the protagonist," Blanc said without looking at me. "It is like playing a text-adventure game. Or something like building and testing that sort of game by yourself."
"And sometimes you wonder "what will I do if I'm in this sort of situation", right?" I placed my right cheek on my right hand as I observed the petite goddess writing words after words on her precious notes.
"Yes. That is normally the case, but an SI story can easily be abused by the author."
Ah, now we're heading to the unknown and beyond. This is becoming more and more interesting, but then again…
We're long past the point of no return, anyway, so let's keep on going and see what will happen.
"You mean it can turn into a wish-fulfillment story?" I closed an eye as I gazed at the goddess.
"All stories are a form of escapism, to begin with." Blanc scoffed as if annoyed by my Cheshire cat's grin. "It only depends on how blatant the wish-fulfillment aspect is."
"Hmm, for example?"
"A Self-Insert story raises a larger number of warning signs compared to other story types," Blanc explained. "It is mainly because the current trends tend to have faceless protagonists getting everything on a silver platter while looking so forced they revealed the author's' true colors."
"Oh," I muttered with a knowing nod. "And what are those colors?"
Blanc glared at me with eyes saying "You know what I meant". I snickered at her expense. This led the tiny goddess to express her utter discontent in a large exasperation.
"It's living out their delusions while stroking their own egos," Blanc said and crunched her eyebrows meekly. "There. Satisfied?"
"...You forgot the objectification of the opposite sex, Blanc."
The brunette in a shrine maiden attire curved down her lips. Her eyes narrowed sharply and I shuddered for a different rrason than before.
"Yes. Now that you've said that, this world seems like it's specifically designed to pander for the millions of loner nerds with zero experience in both romantic and sexual relationships, isn't it?"
Uwwwaaah, now that is a sharp turn of conversation topic. I can literally feel the icy venom in my goddess's words; so asinine and brutal.
"...Now I can't deny that. That's exactly the case back at home," I sighed with a bitter smile on my face. "Do you hate me for being the protagonist, then?"
"You're a side-character," Blanc pointed out, her cold smile still not losing strength or even intensity. "If you aren't, you wouldn't be so useless, and you wouldn't try to be the butt of jokes all the time. I'm sure you were the same in your home dimension."
...Wow, she got it all right. I shook my head and raised my hands to tell her it was my defeat. Blanc triumphantly lifted her chin, as if shoving "Do you see now?" into my face.
How smug… I was about to retort when Blanc made a sound and looked back at me, her expression reverting back to default neutral state.
"Speaking of which," said she. "What sort of story would you write?"
Hm? I picked up my matcha tea and drank it. After expelling a light sigh, I put the teacup back and tilted my head.
"I like writing a story where I can turn the protagonist's life into living hell."