Hacking the Game Didn't Go as Intended

CHAPTER 6: My Virtual Mother

"How about a nursery rhyme?" the woman suggested in a soft whisper. "Whenever I was upset as a child, my mother would always sing it for me."

Daisuke waited in anticipation as the mesmerizing woman took a breath. Her thick eyelashes drifted close, and her small, rosy lips parted, releasing a soothing note into the air.

In shadows deep where dreams may weep,

A cradle of stars, a soul to keep.

Through sorrows vast, the moonlight cast,

Whispers soft, a memory's grasp.

Hush, my child, the night is kind,

Embrace the echoes left behind.

Stars dance in skies, where teardrops lie,

A lullaby for a soul to fly.

In petals soft, where dreams aloft,

A garden blooms, emotions soft.

With gentle grace, time's warm embrace,

An eternal bond, love's sacred space.

Daisuke's eyes gleamed. As the gentle notes of the nursery rhyme filled the virtual room, he felt a sense of comfort seeping into his tiny frame. The haunting melody, tender and soothing, wrapped around him like a soft cocoon.

The troubles of his virtual existence momentarily faded away, replaced by the warmth of the lullaby. The room, once shadowed, seemed to brighten with the simplicity of the song.

In the reassuring arms of his virtual mother, Daisuke's eyes drifted close, a serene smile gracing his lips. The melody, a balm to his young soul, offered a moment of solace in the midst of the virtual storm.

***

In the initial weeks since his... birth, Daisuke's memories were somewhat hazy, but he had come to terms, more or less, with his mysterious fate. The truth was, his previous life wasn't much better—owing money to loan sharks, with hospital bills stacking atop the already lofty heap.

Recently, Daisuke found himself often left alone in the small living room for minutes or hours at a time. He would stare up at the clumsily constructed ceiling from a straw-woven basket, fearing the worst.

"Mommy has to go to work now, Haxks," she'd say with a weary smile each time. "Be a good boy and sleep while I'm gone. I'll be back soon. Mommy loves you very much."

Daisuke would pout.

"Oh my," she'd giggle, her charm and etiquette seeming out of place in the slums. "Are you pouting? That's so adorable!"

Daisuke's motor skills hadn't yet developed, rendering him unable to escape if the roof decided to cave in, nor could he leave the nest to find his virtual mother's whereabouts. Similarly, his vocal cords were still undeveloped, robbing him of the ability to question why he faced constant neglect. Did child services even exist in this world? And if they did, would they extend their reach to children in the slums?

Enduring prolonged periods of neglect, though frustrating for a developed adult mind, provided Daisuke with ample time to contemplate his circumstances.

After an extensive brainstorming session, Daisuke distilled his wild conspiracy theories into three plausible conclusions: he had died and reincarnated as a baby in another world; he existed within the game as a baby, or tampering with the Nexusphere had induced an electrical discharge that fried his brain and plunged him into a coma. Consequently, this surreal experience could be a very bizarre and lucid dream, or a hallucination on steroids.

Disregarding the precarious state of the roof, Daisuke raised a pudgy arm and performed a motion akin to skimming his fingertips along the circumference of a doorknob. According to the game's manual, this was the gesture for opening the «Main Menu».

However, despite now having the ability to move his arms, every attempt to open the Menu had proven futile. Neither mental commands nor physical gestures had succeeded, leaving the final method dependent on a verbal command—an option currently beyond his reach.

I'll just stick a pin in that one for the time being.

Despite his persistent but unsuccessful attempts at interacting with the «System», Daisuke couldn't shake the gut feeling that he resided within the game. Sure, he had somehow bypassed the Character Selection Screen and other similar interfaces, but a certain fact still remained—whether in a dream, hallucination, or another world, ending up with a name as obnoxious as "Haxks" seemed too ironic, if not uncanny.

Setting aside the name's attractiveness—given his current circumstances—it felt too fitting, almost scripted, for him to be given such a name outside the game. Even with a different spelling, the pronunciation still resembled "Hacks" or "Hax," a nod to his side gig of hacking games in his previous life.

His «NPC» mother, it seemed, was carrying out the System's punishment for sullying the game with malware, a penalty he accepted one hundred percent.

Though, I have to say, thought Daisuke mentally with a fierce blush as his mother held him close for breastfeeding. For a game, the attention to detail and realism is seriously out of this world!