As a Reincarnated NPC, I Want to Live a Peaceful Life - Chapter 1

Art World Online

A next-generation game developed primarily in the nation of Yan.

After the advent of holographic projection technology, people relentlessly pursued better gaming experiences. At the time, numerous open-world holographic MMOs had already emerged. Yet, Art World Online dominated the market with its unparalleled immersion and the overwhelming financial backing of its parent company, monopolizing the global VR gaming scene. Other struggling holographic games were either bought out or had their mechanics absorbed, propelling Art World Online to the pinnacle of the gaming world.

And for good reason—it delivered where others couldn’t.

Unlike previous holographic games, Art World Online abandoned traditional projection tech in favor of… (a bunch of jargon you wouldn’t understand)… resulting in an unprecedented level of realism. Beyond that, gameplay and quest design were refined further by recruiting veterans from defunct competitors. Its vast, intricately woven world, sprawling maps rivaling reality itself, and countless unique features made its minor flaws easy to overlook.

NPCs and the system’s real-time AI calculations meant players weren’t limited to pre-set quests or guild missions. Simply talking to any NPC could trigger a potential quest—and as those quests were completed, the game world would dynamically evolve based on player actions.

Combined with frequent official updates, this meant players could always experience something fresh.

But all these innovations pointed to one brutal truth: Art World Online should have demanded monstrous hardware. Even top-tier gaming rigs would logically struggle to run it smoothly…

Except they didn’t.

The game’s system requirements were optimized to the extreme, to the point where even a budget VR headset from Walmart could run it. Not only that—the parent company provided free specialized hardware to anyone who purchased the game.

News outlets once asked: “How does the server company sustain itself while giving away high-end equipment and covering massive operational costs?”

I have no idea.

Because I’m just a “lucky” soul who got turned into an NPC.

Tsukimi Juri

Gender: Female (currently).
Race: Human.
Age: 13 (physically).

Technically, my actual age is over 18, and I was originally male.

But hey—that’s not up to me anymore.

“Juri! Come here, your friends are looking for you!”

A woman’s voice called out. I turned to see Lady Cleroll Sherroll, a married NPC who had taken me in about three months ago when she found me on the road to the Luminescent Woods. Back then, I hadn’t even made eye contact, but she’d asked if I needed a place to stay. I’d hesitated, then nodded.

Now, I can’t help but feel guilty for freeloading.

(—Current Public Knowledge: To simulate reality, Art World Online implements a hunger system. Food restores hunger based on its “palatability” rating, which can degrade under certain conditions.)

(—Most foods adjust palatability based on satiety, which then determines hunger restoration. The devs simplified calculations by using satiety as the baseline.)

(—Hunger penalties apply debuffs at different thresholds. At zero, characters are immobilized before dying seconds later. These debuffs cannot be cleansed—they’re hardcoded.)

“Yeah, yeah! I’m coming!” I called back, heading to the front door.

Post-rebirth, my body hasn’t had any issues—aside from the gender swap and a massive power boost. My outfit hasn’t changed either, since it auto-refreshes daily (indestructible gear), but I’d kill to swap these pinching dress shoes for something comfier.

I stretched, kicked my legs out, and cleared my throat before swinging the door open.

Three familiar faces stared back—two boys and a girl, their mannerisms instantly grating.

“Hey, why are you guys here again? Last time, I won our bet—three weeks of peace, remember?”

They ignored me, of course. And no, they weren’t NPCs. I glanced at the status bars floating above their heads—their levels hadn’t changed, but they’d stacked buffs: crit chance, attack speed, flat damage.

Typical preteen players with starter-kit backstories.

(—Current Public Knowledge: Art World Online adjusts character age based on the player’s real age. Oldest record: 63. Youngest: 5. Starting stats are equalized.)

When we first met, I’d played the refined lady act. Eventually, I dropped the act—gender didn’t change how I moved, just where I could go.

“You! Last time, you humiliated me in front of everyone! I’ll make you pay!” The ringleader, a kid in overly fancy clothes, jabbed a finger at me. I’d pinned him five times in a row last match until he ran off crying.

“Yeah! How dare you bully our Young Master Fu!” The girl chimed in. Our first encounter ended with me stuffing allergy-inducing bugs down her collar until she addressed me politely.

The third kid, a quiet boy, just stood there. No buffs, no snark—probably just dragged along.

“Juri, play nice with your friends, alright?” Lady Cleroll’s voice floated from the kitchen. I muttered an agreement and stepped outside. The kids knew better than to cause trouble where adults could see.

To them, this was a game.

To me? It was real. Vibrant, alive—a flawless second world.

I’d never played games like this before, but blending in was easy. NPCs were just NPCs, players just players—all thinking, living beings. Living here felt no different from reality.

[FuXiang_Flies: Heheh, this time, we’ll crush this NPC!]

[Xiao_Tiantian: But Fu… why keep picking on her? She’s just an NPC.]

[FuXiang_Flies: Shut up! I’m not letting last time slide!]

I could see their chat logs clear as day. Did they think I couldn’t? Like idiots whispering loudly in the dark. Kids.

At barely over ten years old, they were much shorter than me. But like bullies in every game, they assumed NPCs were easy targets.

Honestly? Annoying.

But I held back. No need to go all out.

And seriously—what kind of names were those?

The town had exploded with players since the Luminescent Woods vanished. Inns, taverns—every corner was packed.

Soon, we reached an alleyway bordering the Imperial Magic Knight Academy. Not that I cared—I just wanted a quiet life.

“This is our new arena!” The rich kid puffed his chest out, stepping way too close. I fought the urge to flick him.

[Xiao_Tiantian: Fu, wasn’t this place off-limits? My dad’s buying it for NPC housing!]

[FuXiang_Flies: Doesn’t matter! The mana density here’s perfect for buffs!]

I sighed. “Save your mana. Buffs won’t help.”

They glared. What, was I wrong?

“Shut up! Let’s go! Erlang, now—[Physical Boost I: Iron Hide]!”

“Uh… [Physical Boost II: Steel Fists]…” The quiet kid finally spoke, casting on the ringleader. A lackey?

Pathetic.

(—Current Public Knowledge: Buffs in Art World Online follow classic RPG/MOBA systems, obtainable via potions, spells, prayers, etc.)

So now, the kid had +2 attack, +1 defense, crit chance… Weak. Barely enough to harass basic NPCs.

“O blue skies, avert your gaze—lest you see these children humbled.”

“Hah! You’re done for! Raaah!” He lunged, a textbook “heroic tackle.”

Against anyone else, it might’ve worked.

But I’m not “anyone else.”

“Waaah! Let me gooo!”

I grabbed his collar, hoisting him mid-air. His flailing and threats made me reconsider just dropping him.

“No! Don’t—don’t smash my face! Help! HELPPP!” He burst into tears before I could even move. I set him down gently, guilt prickling.

Sure, he was a brat—but still a kid. Maybe he’d grow out of it.

…Not that I knew how to handle crying children.

“Stop crying,” I said uselessly.

“You! How dare you bully innocent children! Think your size makes you invincible?!”

A voice, dripping with teenage righteousness, cut in. I turned mechanically.

A blond boy, blue-eyed, around my (physical) age, stood there in ornate robes—nobility, probably.

“Waaah! Sh-she hurt me!” The rich kid sobbed.

“Yeah! Young Master Fu almost died!” Okay, maybe I went too far.

“Don’t worry. Go find your parents.” …You’re buying this?

Cue the anime-tier confrontation.

“Hmph! I’ll punish you myself!”

……

“Let me go! I’ll tell everyone you assaulted me!”

The boy in my grip squirmed, tears welling. Annoyance warred with guilt. He started this, yet I was the villain?

“My arm! You’re breaking it!” His voice shook. Sweat, tears—yeah, it hurt.

I released him. Once he caught his breath, I spoke.

“Listen. That ‘Young Master Fu’ provoked me first. And you—don’t pick fights just to play hero.”

His response?

“Y-you’ll regret this!” He bolted.

I sighed. Should’ve knocked him out and posted “Lost Child” flyers.

But whatever. He was just an NPC anyway.