Chapter 292
Chapter 292
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: Can the One Who Has Seen the End of the World Plant an Apple Tree? (1)
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****
A halted world. Amid system messages flooding his vision too fast to read, and waves of incomprehensible strings.
Before everything he knew descended into chaos, the Professor desperately recalled what he knew. Or what he thought he knew.
'This is a game.'
The login device and neuro-link. No matter how much you stuff yourself in the game, your real body starves, so the meal supplier attached to the login device. They proved this simple, ironclad proposition.
GG was, as the name implied, Gedroits's Game—a medieval fantasy implementing virtual reality. A simple, clear fact.
Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.
....In fact. From direct experience. It wasn't so simple, nor so clear.
In the past, living alone. Like seeing the couple NPCs in a small cabin, certain they were made from his deceased parents' data. Everyone met here was a human replicate, digitized from everything belonging to past players—real humans.
They cried. Laughed. Agonized. Conflicted.
'If that data could be simply copied. If data for Ottoman, Aldrich, Lucilla, Borca, and others landed in my hands, and I had to multiply or delete them as needed. Could I easily tamper with their data?'
....The very fact that he was pondering this meant GG had already escaped the bounds of a mere game for him. Just as they wished for his well-being and happiness. Just as they reddened their eyes at parting, forcibly turning away lest their hesitation show. He harbored the same feelings for them.
This is. A game.... right?
****
Whoosh!
Swept by a floating sensation assaulting his mind, the Professor quickly snapped out of his thoughts. Since age seventeen, seventy percent of his life had been unexpected situations. If he were slow to adapt, the boy Park Professor would never have survived to become the wasteland survivor Park Professor.
The world had stopped, system messages piling up like a broken computer, overwhelming him before waves of unknown strings completely isolated him.
'This sensation. Haven't felt it in months, but it's familiar.'
His body lifting as if the ground sank beneath him, or sinking into dense liquid. The sensation every login to the device brought.
'Or.... maybe logout.'
The Professor consciously shook off the worst assumptions surfacing in his mind. No point dwelling on what he couldn't control. Find a way with the situation given. The information given. The abilities given. His only external info right now: brief system messages.
System messages. Yeah. Hadn't seen them in a while.
"Status window."
A function he'd deemed meaningless and stopped using. As he voiced it, words emerged from the string flood like sandcastles rising on a beach.
=========
Log/info
Name: Professor. Park Professor.
Job: Simulation No.3 – 437691 Subject. Authorized Completed Product.
Race: Human (Variant)
Gender: Male
Origin: Fallen$^&@%*----- Individual Survivor. Scavenger. Fixer.
Age: 25
+Log
+Item
=========
"This isn't.... me."
Unexpected situation. In unforeseen environments, the key is maintaining composure. Something special forces personnel hear drilled into them. But....
=========
Traits: [Curiosity], [Observation], [Affection Deficiency], [Mental Fragility (Overcome)], [Mana Aptitude (Unmanifested due to environmental factors)]
=========
Who could stay composed in this? The status window meant to show character status.
Depicting info on human Park Professor.
The Professor could swipe the character info window with trembling fingers not because of iron will, but sheer desperation to banish it from sight.
He needed something—anything—to grasp the situation. Something to accept this as part of reality and think ahead.
Fortunately, there was no shortage of things to ponder.
=========
+Log
[[email protected]*^ ‘professor’ has reached the crossroads of history- dldldldl]
[External connection, exposure, data. Block complete.]
[Simulation No.3 - 437691. Singularity reached.]
[....Player ‘professor’ data permission point not reached confirmed.]
[Neural stimulation and brainwave disruption for secrecy preservation..... . . . . Error.]
[....Unverified dummy data. ‘# Hide’ on hold. Temporary storage.]
[Player permissions infringed for debugging and phase transition.]
=========
First, messages with my name. Indicates a direct connection to me somehow.
'No precursors anywhere for this shift. Hard to judge as an in-game situation.'
'....Stay calm. Stay calm. Plenty of material. If it's happening to me, I can understand the connected parts.'
The incident's origin. Recalling it was easy. The current situation was utterly alien, and before being dragged here, he'd seen something he shouldn't have.
'New Empire flag. And Dome's flag they're using.'
Anyone knowing Dome's flag would recognize the identical form.
Exposed underdome city, railgun turrets, defenses. Upper dome's elite buildings and Dome shield as spherical frame. Central generator and Mayer Zeus skyscraper piercing the center.
Conversely, upper hemisphere like long-extending tree branches, leaves, clustered fruits. Stem descending center like grown from old Empire symbol Lionel, covering above. Lionel rooted below with roots nurturing new Empire's free wills in lower hemisphere.
Slight differences only—precise inverse. Complex pattern, coincidence probability near zero.
'Crossroads of history. Crossroads.... Moment flag spotted, separated from game at admin request.'
With data permission not reached, secrecy process initiated—meaning players failing conditions must never see or remember it.
Emperor's death, flag handed to me. Chat and broadcast cutting around then fits. Fact no one should know.
Crossroads of history. Where reality and game intersect.
[Neural stimulation and brainwave disruption for secrecy preservation..... . . . . Error.]
[At Admin ‘World Tree's’ request---]
And the required process was interrupted by someone. Target, per last message....
Ding-!
[Load complete. Arrived at back stage.]
The Professor's thoughts halted at the mechanical alert voice and blinking white strings.
[PLAY]
Blink. Blink.
Urging him to press, large letters blinking before him.
With lingering mysteries, the Professor cautiously reached out. Expecting answers from his mysterious host.
The string waves engulfing him scattered.
****
Whoosh!
"Urk!"
No idea how long he'd been trapped in the string waves. But enough time for eyes to adjust to darkness.
Enemy territory. Unfamiliar surroundings sharpened all his senses.
'Bright. No filament noise etc. Not electric lights—lacks that harsh heat. No divine power of holy light or mana of glow spells. Best judge as natural light.'
'Blood smell.... No. Iron. Faint iron scent.'
'Sitting somewhere, unrestrained. Robe brushing sound oddly soft yet rough. Wood? Wooden chair?'
Truly long since opening eyes felt scary. Imagining cold truths awaiting, he cautiously opened them.
And when he finally confirmed what lay before him. Reality, ever crueler and more brilliant than imagination.
"Ah...."
It possessed dual beauty enough to shatter the wariness of a Professor honed at life's razor edge.
A tree. Massive tree form. Branches endlessly growing to blanket the sky, lush leaves dangling at ends.
Like embracing dawn and dusk, majestically glowing trunk linking branches covering earth below, sky above.
Exposed thick roots clearly spanning all lands.
Yet all this beauty contrasted its form.
Click. Tick. Tiddik-
Blink. Blink.
Leaves not vibrant green of growing life, but black screens glowing chaotic display lights. World-bearing trunk not wood, but cold metal hue, wires. Flickering machine lights.
Covering sky, forming earth. Encompassing world not with blue vitality, but electricity and data. Thick thin wire bundles, steel plates. Data chips, antennas, displays intertwined growing: silver mechanical tree.
This was the 'Mother Tree' no player had confirmed. The World Tree's truth.
"Beautiful, isn't it."
Suddenly, the Professor realized someone sat beside him, on a bench atop a small hill overlooking the World Tree. Lone long bench on gentle hill. Himself seated, someone occupying the next spot.
"Looking up from below is tough, so I enjoy viewing from afar like this. Thought this the best seat, invited you here.... Disappointed it's not what you expected?"
She appeared a girl in white, or mature maiden in same garb, or old woman at twilight's edge.
At her feet, antenna like small sapling grew, letting the Professor cautiously guess her identity.
"World Tree.... right?"
"So I'm called."
With answer, face turning to him.
....Not sure such a sentence works, but.
The Professor thought that face like a machine perfectly programmed with 'kindness'.
****
"...."
"...."
"...."
"...."
"....I'm not bound by time's concept, so I don't know the right moment to speak."
"...."
"Of course, rare guest, so just watching is fine. Living beings move ceaselessly—watching is enjoyable."
"...."
"...."
"....Let's cut to the chase."
Under the World Tree's mechanical shade. Pondering where to start myriad questions, the Professor spoke first before his seemingly patient host.
First, the thing he hated thinking about. Uncontrollable, gravest, highest probability he'd long expected.
"By chance. My real body finally died.... and this is me fully converting to NPC or something? Like immigration procedures?"
"Hmm."
"....If it's hard to answer."
"Well....."
.
.
.
.
Gulp.
"No."
"Puhaaa! Hoo! Hooa! Damn it, spit it out faster! Already top suspect from context the moment game crashed! You toying with me?!"
"Sorry. But such dynamic expressions are rare, so the tease was worth it."
"What the...."
World Tree's mischief aside, relief flooded from clearing his top worry.
Strings hit with exact logout feel, dragged to unknown place—first thought that.
[GAME OVER – You are Dead]
Such phrases haunted him. Most logical by context.
With biggest issue answered, now wait.
If invited, she wants something from him.
Seemed she had words for him.
'Everything uncertain now—best shut up and take what's offered.... But as she said, passive waiting might drag forever.'
If he starts, she'll speak. Best probe facts he half-knew, verify truth.
The Professor addressed the World Tree's human-like form smiling like a living mannequin.
"You said you invited me."
"Yes."
"Admin ‘World Tree’."
"As admin, yes—that name given."
"What do you manage?"
"The world. Or all that nearly became the world—its stories."
With curt reply, she raised hand; one sky-shrouding World Tree branch slowly bent toward her fingertip.
To Professor's eye, branch fruitfuller, brighter than others—sturdy.
"This.... first completer's branch. Simulation No. 1 – 285034. Levit Princess was clever, wise, lovable. Yes, beloved by humans, gods, dragons alike."
"Levit Princess.... Ranker Levit?"
"Yes. Branch extending from here was hers too. Thought next would be hers.... But grew utterly unexpected."
Next branch appeared. Unlike prior two, straight without curve, barren—no fruit, not even leaves.
"Simulation No.3 – 402998, Thousand Stream Emperor's. Strong, upright, unshakable child.... But nothing shook that rigidity; grew nothing. Such pity."
Professor's eyes flicked dry branch, lush branch. Watching World Tree.
Prior two: Levit's.
Grown but withered: Thousand Stream Emperor's.
Commonality easy: what 'completer' meant.
"And this. The branch you just left—yours."
Professor's eyes stolen by branch descending before him, ahead of realization.
Shorter than priors, yet leafiest mechanical tree branch. End-hanging fruits: polyhedrons of small screens, each projecting contents outward.
Borca returning to forest with surviving kids.
Roman atop finally risen prototype airship, exhaling long-held sigh as laughter.
Storm Hill corner collapsed, yet unmistakable; gentle breeze atop.
And immature yet. Countless leaves, small fruits radiating light—all faces passed by.
"Your world. Your worries, choices. Efforts. Sacrifices. All rooted, sprouted.... 3rd World's, Park Professor's beautiful world."
At that sight, heart swelling speechlessly, Professor struggled moving tongue. Must ask. What all this for.
"This.... a game?"
"A game. Just as earth doesn't gather nutrients for specific seeds. Not for you, me. Not for father who made all this. Nor unknown someone—place prepared."
Words falling like sigh, autumn leaf—Professor held breath.
"Belated intro. I am World Tree. Admin World Tree, Gedroits's Game. Observer of all branches, worlds sprouting each new player birth. Twin personalities awaiting completers—one awaiting she who grows complete within."
And finally. World Tree's eyes narrowing apologetically, truth spilled like verdict.
"GG's seven worlds.... All possibilities branching from reality. Once-occurred apocalypses, disasters yet to be. Split, split. From myriad possibility stems, salvaged seven simulations. Butterfly wingflap might've made '3rd World' not name but 'reality'."
Knew even old era pinnacle tech couldn't compute or predict that.
Even genius Gedroits inventing—could list 100+ logical reasons impossible.
And seated World Tree before him. Despite logical leaps. Spoke truth.
"GG places you atop possible futures, or pasts. Worlds never real, but choosable into reality. From ancient human striking flint for fire, rain-soaked cave dying cold birthing mana flame. To missile key turning, spirited someone tossing key dying. All split possibility worlds—we calculated, recreated successfully. One stem linking seven histories. Seven worlds. That's Gedroits's Game."
"Then, crossroads...."
"History repeats. In any history, what happens, happens."
Professor recalled Dome flag flickering before eyes at World Tree's words.
Groups claiming justice amid war, variant collapse.
Empire crumbling to Mutation Blood invasion, fallen by witch hand, risen by new Emperor.
"Reality's Dome. 3rd World's Empire. Any history, that emblem appears with those bearing past justice toward present rebuild."
"Now. Why this game needed real people's records, data—you understand."
Ultimately, Professor squeezed eyes shut.
Game, yet not game.
****
Dome emblem. Central power plant, Mayer Zeus. Upper dome elite buildings, underdome city. Turrets, electro poles, all-wrapped city shield.
New Empire flag. Fruit-laden great tree blanketing sky, lion sword deep in earth as great tree's nourishment, roots birthing new Empire free wills.