Chapter 204
Chapter 204
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 204
Chapter Title: Chapter 11. The Mage of Mages (24)
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Kuuuung!
The clash between the two monsters sent the air into turmoil, and the shallow puddles on the ground splashed up as if struck by a bomb.
Their battle was a far cry from what one might expect from masters honed in martial arts and sorcery.
[Graaaah!!]
Pshuk!
Kududuk!
The moment Hyde's hook, seizing an opening, plunged toward the Professor's heart, newly sprouted ribs twisted together to trap one arm,
Bwoooong!
Kkaduduk!
As the opponent's swollen right arm, with one arm restrained, slammed through the air like it was crushing it, the beast's sharp fangs bit down on the entire fist to block it.
Wagak!
Taang!
“...Cough!”
[Grrr!]
The bloodied, entangled ribs crushed the chest with sheer grip strength and bored a hole into the torso, while at the same time, the fingers of the fist blocked by teeth spread open, unleashing a barrage of red bullets straight into the monster's throat.
Staggering back from the gaping hole punched through their chests and the shockwave rattling their heads.
It wasn't human combat—it was the savage ferocity of two beasts entangled in blood-soaked frenzy. Trusting in flesh that showed no sign of damage from ordinary attacks, they pressed on with reckless assaults that traded meat for bone-deep wounds.
The problem was, one side had an absurd body where flesh regrew endlessly even if yielded, while the other possessed a form impervious to any harm.
“Even flooding its throat with blood shots only makes it shake its head. A body beyond reason, as expected of a Type 3 variant.”
[You're one to talk, patching up a 20cm hole in your chest in the blink of an eye. Mutant regenerative flesh plus magic? Theoretically invincible, isn't it?]
Tdeeeeng!
Hyde blocked the Professor's sudden lunge and grumbled.
Time was short. The opponent wasn't just an amoeba-like mass endlessly swelling; it absorbed all impacts with bizarre magic, turning them against him, and even had ranged attacks.
To subdue such a foe within limited time—and subduing it wouldn't end things.
Ultimately, the solution lay in purging that bizarre virus, the [Mutant Infection Factor], and restoring the deranged mind.
‘Ugh, think, think! What would the shell do in this situation? If Park Professor saw a maddened ally right in front of him...’
Come on, calmly, just like that guy always thought.
First, who is the opponent?
‘The shell. He thinks he's just a data blob, but whatever trick he pulled to summon me here proves it.’
Hyde defined his and the Professor's states as 'ghosts with tails interlocked.' Whether Hyde himself was a mental disorder or had enough influence to force autonomous actions on the Professor's comatose body, he was a being linked to the Professor's consciousness.
If that screaming original-wannabe wasn't the true original, he wouldn't have been dragged here.
Next, what is the current situation?
‘Hmm... Virus? Malware infection?’
Suspiciously unreal and tied to reality, but from GG's perspective as a game, it was straightforward.
The Professor, fully eroded by developer Andrey Gedroits's implanted mental mechanism, the [Mutant Infection Factor], was acting erratically.
‘It happened before when the factor reached his head. Severe self-destructive urges. Probably the infection's way of wearing down the host's life force through injury to expel lingering resistance, even after taking the whole body.’
Understandable so far.
‘But a game NPC noticing my conversations with the shell and pulling my consciousness in to fix his mental breakdown?’
Isn't this projecting skill influence onto the external body?
The berserker potion that drowned GG in lawsuits affected real minds via game systems, but that was unintended digital drugs. This was an NPC autonomously manipulating a player's psyche.
Broadly, GG—the game meant to serve players—was intervening in a player's state of its own volition.
Not following preset paths, but seeking the most efficient target for a player on the brink of ruin.
Yes, the most efficient target.
‘...Feels creepy, like someone designed it this way from the start.’
Hyde knew what was most efficient here and had the ability to execute it.
And to do so...
[You need to be mentally and physically wrecked!!!]
In the end, just as he'd blurted out at first, he had to beat the crap out of the opponent.
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Kwajijik!
Udeok!
Kwang! Kwang! Kwang! Kwang!
“Huff, huff, hngh!”
Torn, broken, burst, severed—the exchanges repeated endlessly.
As time passed, both monsters grew accustomed to their bodies.
‘Impacts are just another flow. Energy disperses but doesn't vanish, so if I can gather and reuse that flow...’
Chains of power. Refining the reuse of returning shocks a bit more. Perhaps upon completion, this insight could birth power circulating and amplifying infinitely.
Regrettably, the sharp hooks shredding his body interrupted that revelation.
[Huff, huff! A low-level mage trying a war of attrition. Your meat puppet's one thing, but didn't you think your mana would run out?]
He had thought of it. From when the blood armor enveloping him grew unstable mid-fight. Dodging and dragging time might have won, but...
Throb-!
The pounding impulse in his head wouldn't let him stop charging forward.
‘Output... was insufficient.’
As he adapted to this body, so did Hyde. Trusting absurd durability, he'd forsaken all defense or evasion for pure offense.
Hyde's persistent targeting of the blood armor suggested he knew of the mana shortage from the body's memories. Mana depleted, leaving black carapace—far weaker than the variant's flesh—and only regeneration and strength, insufficient to win.
Jijijijik-
The result: limbs shredded to rags, dragged like cheap meat on hooks. The loser's pathetic end. Any hint of regeneration met merciless claw rips.
“Kuhuhu, kuhuhuhu...”
More relief than sorrow.
[Laughing? Hey, I know you're not right, but hold on to your sanity somehow. If it's not infection but real madness, we're screwed.]
“This must be the difference between original and copy. A fake's creation can't beat the real thing.”
[Fuck. Digging your own grave like that is an art form. Obvious result, right? This body's the greatest masterpiece from my short life. Not some Type 3 variant squeezing through trauma, but the final shard in Orpheus's storm that grinds all life to dust—a soul utterly honest before its own will. The essence of Park Professor himself. This is you. Not that grotesque form.]
“...Delusion. Weren't you saying earlier I was the original itself? Then where does the difference from that form arise?”
[...Well. People have multiple possibilities. That heroic(Heroic) form was the shell burdened with countless lives' end. This one's... the dregs pooled inside, dragged to the surface by the infection factor. You were always nobly selfless but sorely lacking in self-love. Lonely enough to invent an imaginary friend like me at your most desperate moment.]
“Lacking self-love? Me? The one who's put bullets in countless survivors' heads just to save my own skin?”
[Didn't you try suicide a ton? Parental sacrifice guilt stopped you each time. Admit it, punk. You're a total nutcase. Like the wasteland folk. Memories don't vanish; they pile like snow. Building a snowman on asphalt brings up the black bottom layers. White surface doesn't erase the darkness inside. The infection factor bloated and yanked out your negatives hidden by the sane parts.]
This was Hyde's philosophy, born from observing one man's life—its rollercoaster consciousness—from birth to now.
‘Maybe... Black Death inciting tribal violence in 1World, undeading in 2World, mutant infection in 3World. All designed for that role. No idea why Gedroits shoved such programming in.’
Hyde sensed something but had no time to dwell.
Pueok!
Hyde tossed his battered body onto the sofa, then sifted through scattered memories around it.
“Now... what do you plan? Kill me and reset to four months ago?”
[Don't talk nonsense, punk. If it were that simple, top engineers wouldn't have slaved 60+ days hooking your skull to the connector. But thinking it over, I got a surefire way to cool your mirror-fueled rage.]
Jjakgrak, jjakgrak.
Shambling through glass-like memories, Hyde plucked an oddly colored one and returned.
“...What is that.”
[Medicine. A memory you lack.]
“...From two months ago?”
[Yeah. If you really think you're the copy, you can't refuse? One only the original has~ Only the original!]
Gulp.
Even wrecked, the Professor felt intense greed for it. A corner of his mind throbbed to destroy it, but recovery desire overwhelmed.
[Ah- don't worry. It won't be long. Editing memories is insanely risky. Tinkered lightly before—shifting a minor one kept me asleep nearly two months. Felt like cracking my skull for brain surgery, clueless on medicine.]
“Then now?”
[Now, once you're fixed, I just pump ventricles, twitch intestines like a machine. Stuff that stays subconscious, fused to the body.]
The shimmering memory shard. Professor hesitated, then opened wide; Hyde flicked it in.
Took!
[Good, edible raw. Thought I'd have to crack your head.]
Kwarrurung!
Watching the black space quake like thunder, Hyde muttered.
[...Two months ago promise. Kept it, sorta. Shell.]
The Professor missed it. His mind overflowed with vivid wasteland—radiation, explosions.
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