Esdinas of Heaven—Bread Academy—did not progress as smoothly as it seemed.
– Indecency! Censor it!
Being a visual novel with beautiful heroines, it was inevitable that it faced the “censorship beam”.
Many issues arose due to various content ratings, and the company’s president and employees were frequently summoned to hearings.
At one point, Esdinas was even forced into the category of R-rated games.
The summer event during vacation featured a controversial scene: a character in a swimsuit, mid-swim, with an octopus clinging to her thigh and lower back in a suggestive cutscene.
– Clearly, this p*rverted intent came from whoever was behind this. It’s only natural this would be R-rated!
A certain organization pointed this out. Unfortunately, this organization also oversaw game censorship and pre-screening for various items patched into Pancademy.
As such issues accumulated, controversies arose one by one. Domestically, there was little the company could do but endure the blows.
However, they didn’t only suffer under the weight of censorship.
– …So, you’re saying this game brought in billions in revenue?
– Yes.
While Esdinas of Heaven lacked domestic allies, abroad, the game’s success gained support from many who saw its potential.
Why? Because it was lucrative. Extremely so.
Moreover, as the issue of character censorship between domestic and foreign audiences gained international attention, the narrative shifted to reveal the “ugly truth of Korea’s gaming industry”.
This brought a measure of national embarrassment.
Ordinarily, such situations would escalate into further censorship campaigns, with accusations that the game “tarnished the country’s dignity” and calls to restrict it further.
Mobile games in subcultures often face societal prejudice, dismissed as indulgences of lazy youth who shirk responsibilities to revel in escapism.
Yet, when such a game generates revenue rivaling major corporations, perceptions begin to shift.
During this period, a renowned international investor proposed investing billions in Esdinas of Heaven.
– Why are these wealthy elites flying to Korea, causing such a stir over an otaku game?
Prominent American entrepreneurs, stock market titans, and even a Saudi royal flew in private jets to throw money at this “weeb game.”
Thus began the counterattack.
Even the censorship board, no matter how authoritative, couldn’t withstand pressure from politicians, major corporations, and even the government itself.
– It’s absurd to think a game like this could establish such a cultural presence in Korea’s gaming industry.
This sentiment dominated discourse.
Rumors emerged that the president had a “hypnosis app” capable of brainwashing influential figures worldwide into enjoying the game.
Given the phenomenon of my own “possession”, perhaps there was some hidden factor beyond game mechanics that made global hypnosis possible.
In any case, public opinion eventually flipped.
While some dismissed the rise as vulgar, others acknowledged that it brought Korea into the spotlight, even ahead of Japan in some cases, leading to reluctant praise.
Esdinas of Heaven embraced inclusivity toward most parties but launched direct attacks against one specific organization.
The apex of this offensive?
The S-rank monster, [Gerrquan Wiperus].
The epitome of censorship incarnate, this octopus-like monster would immediately cling to the hips of swimsuit-clad women, spreading its black ink across their bodies.
“Got caught.”
“Eeeek!!”
Estella screamed as Gerrquan Wiperus captured her, its elongated limbs wrapping her body like a tightly rolled sushi. Its lower appendages spewed black ink, enveloping her skin.
“H-Hey! My gear—?! Argh?!”
Estella’s A-rank equipment shattered with a cracking sound, falling apart under the ink’s corrosive power. The remnants dropped to the ground in seconds.
“That thing… could it be…?!”
“Let’s discuss this with the old school building allies and collaborators. “
I pointed to Estella, now partially blackened by the ink.
“Considering the tights and shorts the students wear during the Great Martial Tournament, isn’t it true that their arms, abdomen, and thighs are quite exposed?”
“Well… yes.”
“Would there be people who’d say, ‘How can a woman show so much skin?’”
“Probably. Maybe the 70-year-old mages at the Magic Towers?”
“Exactly. While they secretly enjoy the sight, they pretend to be dignified in public. Truly uncomfortable individuals would demand robes or cover-ups.”
“Wait, uncomfortable?”
Yurha snapped her fingers and turned to Estella.
“Could it be that the monster gets agitated by exposed skin, which is why it sprays black ink?”
“Absolutely correct, Senior Yurha.”
That’s right.
“Before this area was developed into a resort, that monster never appeared. But once it was developed, it started showing up. These developments seem to cause ‘discomfort’ for that creature.”
I explained, pointing to Yunia, Ludmila, and Evangeline, all clad in swimsuits.
“As you can see, it reacts to women by… doing that.”
“Eek! What is this?!”
Estella screamed.
The tentacle-like limbs gripping Estella had now only restrained her arms, leaving her dangling. From her neck down to her feet, her body was completely covered in a thick, sticky black liquid.
“If that stuff drips off—”
“It won’t. While it may seem like it’s dripping, the sticky ink will solidify quickly, like gelatin.”
“Gelatin…?”
“Think pudding. Before it solidifies, it jiggles as a liquid, but once it sets, it holds its shape. Except this stuff becomes even stickier and harder, like rubber.”
“…Oh my.”
Yurha sighed, gazing at Estella.
“If only her chest was more… lifted, it wouldn’t have slid down in such a straight line.”
“True.”
As Yurha lamented, the ink had slid too quickly down Estella’s upper body.
The result was a disproportionate effect—while her torso seemed casually smeared, her lower body was grotesquely layered in thick ink, making her appear unnaturally bloated.
“Phoenix. I’m asking just in case.”
“What is it, Evangeline?”
“If that stuff turns into some sort of unremovable ‘suit’, will that Vinyudan executive have to wear it for the rest of her life?”
“…”
“No way, right? Even for an S-rank executive, that would be overkill, right?”
“You’ll only find out by experiencing it firsthand.”
[Gerrquan Wiperus] is a creature that acts as an extension of their identity.
As such, its “censorship beam”, resembling a crude diving suit, wasn’t something players could simply remove at will.
“If we succeed in defeating Gerrquan Wiperus, that sticky black ink will be easy to peel off. But if not, as long as Gerrquan Wiperus’s ‘curse’ persists, the black substance will remain, covering the skin and enforcing a censored state.”
“Ugh…!”
“One might call it poetic justice.”
Ludvecia Marchioness remarked, placing her hand on her chest.
“It’s like a punishment for a woman who tried to curse others to drain their mana. If this continues, she won’t even be able to experience love with a man for the rest of her life.”
“Marchioness, before love, she might not even be able to handle basic human functions.”
“Like what? Childbirth?”
“Yes.”
Seeing the censored diving suit—thick latex layered clumsily rather than a sleek bodysuit—it was clear that, unless someone had highly specific niche tastes like latex fetishism or a preference for BBW, she wouldn’t find companionship easily.
“It’s hard to feel pity for a Vinyudan executive who ended up like that, but if we leave this unresolved, the women who came here to enjoy the resort might also get caught in that black tide. They’ll be forced to spend their vacation—and perhaps longer—trapped in that form.”
“Ugh…!”
In other words, they would be stuck living under the effects of the “censorship beam”.
“Senior Yurha, if we defeat it and an S-rank core drops, what will happen to it?”
“Well…”
“It will be appropriately disposed of, and raid costs will be calculated.”
“…Of course.”
Yurha raised a single finger.
“I’ll only take 1% of the proceeds as my fixed share. The rest will be distributed among the participants based on Phoenix’s assessment of their contributions.”
She was claiming a modest fixed percentage.
The rest would be left to my judgment.
“Understood. Then, from this moment, we’ll commence the raid against [Gerrquan Wiperus]. Let’s refer to that black corruption as ‘Dark Matter’.”
The censorship beam.
“Even if you’re affected by Dark Matter, defeating the creature will resolve the issue within a day or two. So, I ask for your cooperation. Special class members, Instructor Esta, Senior Yurha, Marchioness Ludvecia, and…”
Those who would oppose the censorship:
“Vinyudan members.”
It wasn’t just about men or curvaceous women.
“We stand united as humanity to fight against this monster. For the greater good, let’s work together—for the peace and safety of the land our children will inherit.”
Not for 5-star resorts where rash guards were the norm, but for the freedom of a beach culture filled with bikinis.
“From now, we begin the raid on [Gerrquan Wiperus].”
