Chapter 125
Chapter 125
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 125
Chapter Title: Star Fall (10)
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Look at that fervor, blazing like a wildfire. They say there's no one else like him in the world, yet somehow they're all talking about "that madman Professor."
Frankly, I feel a bit wronged.
Did I want to become some inefficient lunatic? I was just struggling to somehow compensate for this shitty glass body trait. The problem is that the result comes with some side effects.
Thud!
Swept up in intense exhaustion from the rampage ending, the Professor collapsed right there on the path to the rendezvous point.
"Whoa! Be careful!"
"The guy carrying you is awfully chatty! Let's switch! I have no strength left in my whole body."
"Who says I have any strength? Thanks to certain people burying me alive, this old man in mana exhaustion had to struggle desperately!"
"If you'd stayed still, we would've come get you properly."
"You try peeking out with just your head right in front of the enemy lines, buried in the ground! How anxious do you think that made us!"
Of course, on the way out, he hadn't forgotten to dig up the Ottoman mage buried in the forest. Seeing the old man's white hair soaked in dirt and sweat, plastered to his face as he flailed around, had felt a bit guilty. But at the time, it had seemed like the safest option!
"Urgh—damn it!"
In the end, rolling Ottoman and his own body into the roadside grass with the last of his strength was all the Professor could manage.
The Professor, whose muscles had torn apart at the cellular level from the rampage, and Ottoman, whose old body was limp from mana exhaustion and the fatigue of being buried alive, lay spread-eagled in the grass.
"Oof... my poor back. If they send a pursuit squad and find us like this, we're done for..."
"The chances are... urgh! Low. I scared them off real good."
"Scared them? Do mutants even feel fear?"
"Uh... well, seemed like it? Their expressions changed after I split a few heads."
"'A few' heads? I've never seen a mutant survive having its head split open. What are you even talking about? How'd the plan go?"
The Professor, groaning in the grass as he tried to massage his body even a little, let out a weird scream from the pain of crushed muscles and flopped back down.
"Argh! The plan? If Vorka's team did their part, it succeeded. More attention came my way than expected."
"Then those guys will head this way soon. This is the fastest route to the hill with the Radiant Church monk."
"So let's lie here and rest, then beg them to carry us when they pass by."
He pricked up his ears to check the surroundings, but only the chirping of strange grasshoppers filled his ears, proving no one was around.
The operation had kicked off precisely at midnight. It felt like they'd done a lot, but their actual time in Pellas had been just under two hours. The black sky still sparkled with a huge moon and stars.
As he relaxed for a moment, Hyde's voice echoed in his mind.
[Still, you handled it well this time without my help?]
'Yeah. What's up? No whining about wanting to come out?'
In the now-familiar pitch-black consciousness space, Hyde waved the black left arm attached to his shadowy silhouette. He seemed a bit taller than before—previously elementary school kid height, now maybe middle school? The silhouette's outline looked more mature overall.
[What can I say? I've been out and about lately, moving around freely... but now that more parts feel like 'my body,' I have some leeway. It's different from when I could only twitch a few fingers. Yeah!]
'Ugh.'
Talking with Hyde always brought a strange feeling. Familiar like family... yet their relationship made him wary, consciously keeping distance. This time, solving things without Hyde's help stemmed from heightened crisis awareness. His body was already surrendered up to his shoulders. A few more times, and his head might fully go to Hyde. Or maybe the next one would be the head. Shoulders were right below the neck, after all. Maybe less time than he thought...
[Legs next? Not sure left or right.]
Ugh... the topic of conversation was ownership of his next body part.
'Come to think of it, I meant to bring this up sometime.'
[What?]
'The body. Can't you just... not take it?'
Living attached to the guy, he'd sensed it bit by bit, but the Dome incidents confirmed it. Hyde was deeply invested in preserving his life. Not just life—he tried to make situations positive when out.
[Sudden confession? Meeting that son stabbing his dad in the face with a spear blade made you realize, "Oh, my eldest is such a filial son!"?]
'I'm serious. We've gotten pretty close, right? It's been a while since the annoying giggling and "hand over the body" crap.'
[Close, huh... Yeah, could see it that way. The only intellect I can share the most intimate thoughts with, no secrets. More like spouse material than friend? Daddy, wanna marry me?]
'Keep dodging? Let's just live like this. If you really need it, I'll give another arm or leg. Can't we go out sometimes, move around, and live peacefully?'
One lesson from wasteland life: the world is a fucking awful place. Unhappy assumptions always come true over happy ones.
Ask some transcendent being in the game to separate them? Best case if possible. The game's workings suggested it might be feasible. But just a hypothesis. If not, one of them had to vanish. Whether extracting Hyde via game mechanic or old Dome tech, or him gradually losing his body and disappearing.
Better they agree beforehand, right?
[Siiiip—haaa. Deeper than expected. I'd be crying if I had eyes, you thinking of me like that. This'll be long—wanna sit?]
Swoosh—
Hyde swung his hand, and a table and two chairs appeared in the empty consciousness space. Familiar design—exactly like the ones in their shelter.
[Negotiations need a table. There's even a term for it.]
'So. Your answer?'
[...]
Hyde rippled thoughtfully, then hesitantly spoke, looking troubled.
[...Short? Long?]
'Short.'
[That's tough.]
Bang!
Unthinkingly, he slammed his fist on the table. Tough? Until one dies?!
'Then you have to take it all? One of us dies to end it! It's my body to begin with! You think those parts aren't precious?! I'd rather live with prosthetic arms than you vanishing...!'
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Gotta respect that Korean temper. Why pick short when you won't understand without the full explanation anyway?"
As the cheap table fixed itself with a swoosh from his punch, Hyde rested his left arm on it and said,
[Truth is, since the left hand became mine, I've been trying.]
'Trying what?'
[Not taking the body.]
'Not... taking it? You?'
'Yeah, idiot! Think I didn't consider it? In less than a month, a whole hand snaps over! At this rate, I'll end up with a resentful Professor in my head forever! I didn't want this! The problem's you, you dumb shell!'
Hyde's hand grabbed his collar, yanking him close.
'It's not me! You're the one handing it over! The body!'
Hyde's shout echoed in the consciousness space, empty save for them.
****
'I'm... giving it?'
[Yeah.]
Hyde released his collar suddenly, making him flop back into the chair.
[At Old Picture's end, when the whole left arm moved by my will, I thought you'd faint. I didn't want it. Even one hand lets me write, shake hands with new people, feel hot, cold, metal, dirt, wood's roughness and smoothness. One hand has more than enough to savor and understand. I truly didn't want to steal your body. But regardless of my will, here we are.]
Hyde, like him, scraped his finger joints with a click-click.
[After Dome, I tried finding why. Weird stuff from the start, right? My birth, existence—nothing normal. Then I recalled your words. One wrong guess can be bad hypothesis, but keep being wrong...]
'The known facts are wrong.'
Finishing Hyde's words, he too traced back the memory.
[GG. Amazing game. Aura, skills settings show it's not just for laughs. Problem is, you got too immersed, thinking GG's something real-like. Up to now, excluding mental stuff, GG's had almost no direct real-world impact, right?]
'No... way. The wasteland alone—without GG's exchange and community—'
[That's people interacting. GG's just a tool.]
'My left arm—'
[Special case. Miracle from my existence and mutant virus.]
'Then you!'
Click-click.
Hyde's finger sounds filled the black space, breaking their silence.
[Same here. I live in your head, but no physical form. Think coldly. GG only affects reality via 'mind' stuff. Obvious, right? Virtual reality of electricity and code can't cause physical phenomena. Just deluded by the immersion.]
Too obvious, as he said. Gedroits's game limit: it's a game. Can affect players' memories and minds, but not create physical things.
[That led to the answer. What Gedroits's game planted in people. What changed them.]
'...Mental illness?'
Hyde nodded. At that moment, they recalled the same memory.
Player who went cannibal, starved to death refusing anything but human flesh. Turned into his game self...
[Multiple personality disorder. Seen it in movies. Split egos fighting for the body. Loser vanishes, winner takes over. So simple, but forgot amid the game's realism. Labeling my nothing-but-mental-illness self, treating me like a real separate entity.]
The Professor sensed a bitter smile on Hyde's featureless face.
[That's it. Battle for control between two consciousnesses. Me gaining bits because you're too nice. Mouth says no way, but deep down, that weird debt of 'life debt' piles up. That's you, right? Act slickest, most selfish, but can't ignore people in need. Dumbass hero type. That's Professor. Every time you take my help, you weigh it on your conscience scale. Game help: finger or two. Saved your life in reality: whole arm. Generous with gratitude.]
Finishing, Hyde stood from the chair.
[Didn't say 'cause no need. Knowing changes nothing, right? Can't fix ownership. Nor your twisted altruism without prison, chains, whips, human mods. Nothing changes. Find game's 'absolute being' thing for a new body for me, or hunt the creator and demand separation with his mind-twisting skills. So stop useless worries, play the game hard. Instead of yapping, research magic or swing fists—you'd be better off. Tired of this premature ejaculation tank character? Ditch the strong-but-short battery. If you don't wanna give more to me.]
Hyde's grumbling voice softly wrapped the shocked him. Yeah. Nothing changed, no need to gape.
'All that spot-on advice—hard to get used to.'
[Switched roles 'cause you were rambling stupidly. Like it?]
'Tch. Never lose a word.'
[Learned from the best.]
Tap, clack, tap!
Thud! Boom!
Amid their grins, quiet footsteps and heavy ones approached.
'Guys are here.'
[Get out. No more moping.]
Whoosh—
Consciousness space collapsed, filling with grass scent and starlight.
'...Fuck. Thanks, Hyde.'
[Ugh, goosebumps! Scram, shell!]
Before leaving, he had to give awkward thanks. Hyde said nothing changed, but it did—for him.
Just mental illness? Split personality? Bullshit. What split ego calls itself mental illness to comfort the host?
Nothing changed, but Hyde was special. At least to him.
A kind consciousness in a love-starved mind. What better therapy?
****
Ding-!
[Info Update: Blood Armor ? Tier 2 (Embrace, Repel): Player 'professor's Origin Spell. Requires realization of repel and embrace, and 'deep consciousness of blood ? protection, life.' Converts own blood to armor. Cancels if manually stopped or mana depletes. / Active: Combat Fatigue -70% (affected area), Shock Protection Lv.10, Propulsion Lv.4(+) / Extra: Berserker Lv.5 ? Less fatigue in combat. Immune to mental attacks Lv.5 and below. Loses reason. Won't stop fighting unless something special happens.]
"...Somehow, a ridiculously complex thing came out."
"Complex thing?"
"Uh... assassins were busy, so you missed it? My magic."
"Oh, that."
"Impressive. Though can't compare to the monster you showed after."
Finishing his talk with Hyde inwardly, the Professor loudly called to Vorka and Aldrich-carrying Notum racing down the road ahead. Amid glad greetings, the werewolf grinned fangs, proudly raising the chambermaid's head in one hand. Perfect success.
"Monster? Lasts five minutes, then just a talkative corpse. Need other means fast."
So while slung on Vorka's back, he checked this new 'Blood Armor' spell.
Blood Armor. His Origin Spell, used enough to reveal decent info.
'Unreliable system window—levels can change anytime.'
Still, desired functions were there.
Shock Protection Lv.10
His glass cannon now iron cannon, limitedly. Success already. No more 'rocket punch' mockery after one hit arm-vanishing. Great.
Combat Fatigue -70%
Came with protection, probably. Swinging axe in air vs. tree: latter way more tiring. Muscle pain levels differ. No backlash meant stamina gain. Good.
Propulsion Lv.4(+)
Total jackpot, unexpected. With Blood Armor on, punching: enemy's shock recoils through arm, jets back! Boom!
Impact shattering his arm now aids attack as propulsion. Same for defense: block, shock flows through gauntlet opposite, pushes attack away. Great offense/defense bonus. + means potential up with conditions.
Up to here... pure bliss.
Berserker Lv.5
Game's most infamous psychoactive debuff attached.
- Jokasss: Court warrior now.
- Soy Sauce Gaybar: Heh heh heh... kid, combat weak? Try this potion... Berserker. Feels great, strong as hell, heh heh...
- Take a Look: Top contributor to sending Gedroits Company underground post-nuke.
Berserker. GG Ver 1.0's lawsuit tsunami trigger.
Why the rep? Tried it—clear now.
'Not just losing consciousness. Felt like battlefield troops high on supply drugs fighting. Real impact too?'
- professor: Speed Wagon? Know what symptoms people used in berserker potion/buff lawsuits?
- Speed Wagon: Quick search. Mostly vague: personality change, mental shock, data drug brain damage. Gedroits's shield. No clear, provable medical symptoms.
- professor: Oh! So berserker no big real impact?
- Speed Wagon: Case-by-case, hard to say. 7yo white girl loved flowers, drawings, princesses—after GG, sharpened Barbie legs, hunted wild rabbit, gifted mom. You outside? Maybe no big deal. Personally, no worry.
- Speed Wagon: + image / Levit Hunter Girl before.jpg / Levit Hunter Girl after.jpg/
- Jokasss: Fuck, look at that innocent grin... holding it same pose as Barbie in rabbit's neck...
- Soy Sauce Gaybar: Lawsuit reeks of sesame oil.
- DOOMgay: Precisely carotid. Impressive for little girl.
- Highway Nacho Man: Genre from Princess Maker to Doom—obvious lawsuit bait.
- Deer Drug Please: Lawsuit? Grab shotgun, Harley, storm Gedroits HQ now.
Fuck. Scary. How not worry? Flower-field girl goes mad-eyed, proudly holds bloody rabbit.
"Boss, you look worried, but think later."
"What. Here already?"
"Yeah. See it."
Professor turned where Vorka's claw pointed. Still dark predawn, but obvious rendezvous.
The monk's shiny bald head gleamed under moonlight, pacing the darkness.
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