Chapter 379
Chapter 379
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 379
Chapter Title: Chapter 17. Travel Preparations (2)
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“Did you send him off well?”
“What could I do? It’s Hyde who’s leaving.”
When I opened my eyes, the World Tree, Atlahéva, and even the Hetzling siblings were sitting in front of me.
...What can I say? The feeling was strange.
Somehow empty? It felt so unfamiliar that my thoughts were truly my own.
Over the past two years, my thoughts had naturally become opinions sent to someone else, and whenever I came up blank, advice would flow in effortlessly.
Thinking alone without Hyde felt stupid. Like, why am I doing this when there’s no one to hear?
“You’ll get used to it. I lived without it my whole life—what could go wrong?”
“...If that’s how you see it, then so be it. You’ve been through a lot, in more ways than one.”
“Yeah, whatever. So, what happens now?”
“As I said earlier, we’ll advance the history from the point where your 3rd World ended. With all the errors accumulated, we’ll have to proceed carefully.”
History flows forward. Just as there’s a seventy-year gap between the 2nd and 3rd Worlds, the 4th World will be far in the future from this point.
“...Can you tell me how much time has passed?”
“No. We’ll need to run simulations to see how future events unfold. You should have time to look around the 4th World before entering.”
“Convenient.”
“Convenient... Well.”
The World Tree sitting beside me hesitated, then swallowed her words and gently wrapped her small hand around mine.
Atlahéva, quietly watching the scene, spoke up.
“One week. In real time, about a week for preparations. Handle what you need to outside in the meantime. You haven’t breathed outside air in ages, have you? If a week feels tight, take a bit longer.”
“Yes. Try to make... lots of good memories. For the days ahead.”
“One week... If I stay out longer, won’t that pollute the data soul in the server room even more?”
“It won’t be fatal for a day or two, but I can’t say it won’t have an effect.”
“Then that settles it.”
“...When you’re ready, just log out normally.”
“Oh, really? See you in a week then! Log—”
“Of course, your ‘body’ outside will be quite different from before, so brace for some shock.”
“Ah...”
Right.
I’d forgotten since it’s been so long since I returned to reality, but the body hooked up to the access pod right now was in a state like those artists—Type 2.5 Undead.
When they’d somehow revived my consciousness with the data soul, the photo I saw was a monster. Dark and mottled, sharp protrusions everywhere, face pulled back viciously with eyes and mouth corners slashing upward...
How big was it? I remember it mounted on some Gundam-sized frame. Midway updates said the brain recovery had shrunk it a lot, but I was still worried.
I want to go back to being human Professor Park, not some secret weapon ‘Destroyer Park MK-2.’
‘This hits home.’
Hyde had perfectly embodied my real-world appearance. He fit perfectly on my worn-out sofa... Should be fine, right?
‘Reality. Reality...’
I’d thought vaguely about going out, but now that it was real, my mind raced.
While I was gone, people were eating mutant meat and making armor from mutant shells.
After the 38th District incident, mutants with unique designs outnumbered Types 1 and 2.
BDSM had become aspirational, with seven-year-olds saying, ‘I wanna be BDSM when I grow up!’
‘Oh, BDSM. Speaking of... Thousand Stream Emperor said he was coming to see me, right?’
Damn. I already missed my lost dual-core notepad.
If Hyde were here, he’d rattle off: ‘Reality? Let’s see... This happened, that guy visited, messages from so-and-so, gotta meet Thousand Stream Emperor...’
Thousand Stream Emperor. Levit Princess. Both were World Clearers who’d reached this ‘administrator space,’ candidates for Completor, and had claimed their rewards.
The reward vending machine right in front of me. Four slots now marked [SOLD OUT], half the list gone.
“World Tree. Mind if I ask something?”
“If it’s something I can answer.”
“...What did Levit and Thousand Stream Emperor take?”
Even the remaining ones dazzled: ‘Gedroits Drone Control,’ ‘Space Station Residency for 50,’ ‘Humanity’s Hope: Server Room Coordinates,’ and more.
The three sold before couldn’t have been lesser.
‘If they wield that much power in reality, better know ahead.’
That much power still under wraps meant they were plotting something in the shadows.
Both in the Dome now, too. I needed at least basic intel.
“We told you to go rest barely a minute ago, and here you are, fired up before you even leave?”
“Uh... Can’t relax with loose ends nagging me.”
“Sigh. You really...”
What do you expect from a guy who just ended a war in a world where throats burn by the second?
The World Tree shook her head like she couldn’t rein me in, then spoke with a sigh.
“Thousand Stream Emperor was like an ascetic monk. Obsessed with his own completion—we had high hopes. But when we mentioned ‘Completor,’ he showed utter contempt.”
“Thousand Stream Emperor. I remember him. Drew his sword and charged the moment he heard I was a dragon. A man whose life focused solely on honing himself.”
Swordsmanship wasn’t the goal; it was the tool to forge himself toward some endpoint—that was his completion.
“He seemed to have a clear goal for ‘strength.’ Not physical, but he was so twisted, the line between mental maturity and physical power had blurred long ago. His choice was set: Number 3, [Military Project T-42 / Hyper-Sensory Training Program].”
“Military project... Like the ‘Cyborgization Procedure’ Raptor stole, Dome’s ‘Meyer Zeus,’ the destroyed ‘City Fortress Project,’ or 38th District’s ‘Orpheus’? What’s its effect?”
“Simply put, it trains senses to visually dodge a gun’s firing.”
“...Dodge by seeing the firing?”
“Yes. Not just avoiding the barrel’s straight path—capturing the bullet’s impact point and evading.”
Shit. Should’ve asked first. Any stock left?
I’d laughed off Ian saying, ‘Broke through crossfire barehanded and stripped an armored car with a laser chainsaw!’ But now it felt like a documentary.
‘Military power. That reward was literal military might. Turns personal forces into superhumans.’
Thousand Stream Emperor had shown superhuman reflexes and combat sense since 2nd World play. Now he had the tech to realize that in reality?
‘Is he out there yelling [My 4th World is this wasteland] and going on a rampage again? Plausible. Did he come to find me like in his 3rd World, [A strong one. Must kill.]?’
My outside image:
Hero who single-handedly stopped 38th District tragedy.
Superhuman clinging to human mind in mutant flesh.
De facto ally: Type 2.5 mutant, Adapter.
Anyone would see a ‘strong one’ drool-worthy for Thousand Stream Emperor!
Mid-recovery parade cheers, I vividly imagined him slyly drawing some laser razor saw...
Then a oddity hit me.
...If that tech existed, why no Captain America, Captain Europe, or Captain Istanbul on the battlefield? No ethics-spouting commanders with nukes flying. Hundreds of minor Thousand Stream Emperors with anti-tank bayonets would be carpet-bomb disasters, right?
“...Does it have flaws?”
“Of course.”
My hunch confirmed.
“In GG play, it hones only sensory parts to extremes. Over 80% of subjects died of brain hemorrhage within a minute of starting. The rest endured 24 hours of level-10+ hallucinations after emergency stop, then shock or suicide. It’s less ‘hyper-sensory training’ and more flaying every nerve raw and slamming in stimuli.”
“Wow.”
Not training—worst torture ever. Thousand Stream Emperor survived it.
“Thousand Stream Emperor... In a way, reached your level even sooner.”
“My level? What, a mutant?”
“You’ll see for yourself outside. Personal history.”
Teases then cuts off at the good part. Info lock between Completor candidates, I guess.
‘Note: [Thousand Stream Emperor is a real-world superhuman.] Don’t get cocky.’
Good intel for an immediate meet.
Next.
“So, the other two? Levit took them, 1st and 2nd World Clearer.”
“Bright, witty, ambitious kid. She wanted the server room coordinates too. ‘If that’s humanity’s last hope, revealing them will be humanity’s greatest event!’”
“Uh... Fits her streaming persona... So why are they still here?”
“Levit’s dreams were bigger than we thought.”
Innate observation and sense.
Not just rational charm—a radiant pull on people.
Levit was the Completor candidate we all pinned hopes on.
After clearing 1st World, we invited her here brimming with expectations. Humanity’s first to face the reward machine, she said:
‘Wow! Nothing to throw away here!’
So, she didn’t.
Took every single one.
All of them. All in her hands.
“...Too clever. Closest to the Creator’s ideal Completor. Clever, capable, overcame wounds... a dulled hero.”
“Levit Princess’s first reward: Number 5, [Save/Load Authority].”
“...What?”
“You heard right. That authority you know. The gamer’s ultimate power.”
“They put... that in there? Gedroits?”
World logistics control.
Space residency.
Superhuman program, infinite personal time, humanity’s hope—I’d prepped for ‘Ooh, nice’ reactions.
Swear, never saw that coming.
Load? Save/Load? In Gedroits’s game, to a player? From Gedroits himself?
“Cheat?”
“Levit thought so too, picked it first despite no real gains. She’d heard about pollution. Worlds ahead would be tougher. We thought it’d push her to server coords, but no.”
1st World pollution was milder than now, easier than 3rd. Tribes hostile, but many neutral in primal world.
Levit wanted all rewards, knew chances rarer ahead, so picked [Save/Load Authority]. Gamer’s greatest power.
As investment for the rest.
I’d seen split-second choices birth hopes and tragedies. Levit chose, checked results, loaded until ideal—cleared 2nd World.
Despite talent enough for one clear. She wanted perfect victory.
Levit Princess aimed to claim all seven World Clear rewards.
“...Streaming. With all those loads, how’d she stream?”
“Forgot? Massive cash after first clear. Her 2nd World streams were all pre-recorded, edited. Actual playtime short. Played without streaming, locked results, aired edited footage with live voiceover. Seamless. Talent, that.”
‘That’s why the massive personal shelter and huge staff.’
Knew she was ambitious, but the scale stunned—absurd dream made real.
Levit’s near-perfect play secret.
Save/Load. What a top player gets treating GG purely as a game.
Knew why she failed 3rd.
“Levit... couldn’t see GG people as human, huh?”
“Not even a shred. Good kid, clever, bright, capable. Just not Completor material.”
Save/Load is in-game power. In pollution-locked GG, 100% exploitation wouldn’t clear.
Needed miracle. Growth.
Game-external growth, influence. Pure gamer Levit hit 3rd World’s polluted wall.
“2nd World reward?”
“Number 3. [Gedroits Community Admin Authority].”
“Media control... Fits her goals.”
Her 2nd clear took ~3 real months; viewers spotting flaws overdue.
Admin authority: squash doubts, boost her vids.
Post ‘Levit’s stream weird?’—gone instantly? Track poster, ‘silence them’?
“World star’s secret. Bitter.”
“How do you think we felt? Hoped so much, but opposite of Completor.”
Bitter smiles on World Tree and Atlahéva. Seven rewards total, she took two—sucked GG dry and ditched. Gutted them. Couldn’t punish a player following Creator’s process.
Can’t blame Levit—realistically, her choice right. Just a game. Data scraps wear out—what’s wrong? Squeeze max before shutdown.
“Levit played pure wasteland style.”
Good info. Levit unlikely to clear more Worlds, but ‘Community Admin Authority’ real. Media control. Much to discuss outside.
“When you go out, the two candidates will seek you. They know World Clear meaning, want your reward choice.”
“Be cautious. You’re what we found after endless waits and disappointments. Don’t vanish pointlessly outside—can’t bear another tragedy.”
“Kerruk! Saladin, I’ll be waiting!”
“Rest well, come back healthy! Kkirruk!”
Admin farewells signaled end.
Reality.
My mutant-mingled body.
Two Completor candidates.
Dome. Raptor. Mutants. My friends...
“Sip—haaah.”
Deep breath. Ready.
Semitransparent status window, glowing ‘Logout’ button.
Ding-!
[Logout? Y/N]
Finger rose lightly; crisp system voice queried return, as if never gone.
Going. Finally. After twists, rafting River Styx, alive—back to reality!
“See you in a week!”
“...Please.”
World Tree’s last word faded as world bleached white.
Hyde’s departure buoyancy.
Forgotten logout sensation.
‘Returning.’
Tension, excitement, emotions swirled.
White vision slowly blackened.
****
Beep... beep...
“Vitals.”
“Stable.”
“Mutant virus?”
“Stablest in our samples. No need to compare—”
“Cut the chatter. Don’t know when he’ll wake.”
Vast lab facility.
Blinding lights; white-coated researchers, blue-overalled engineers scurried.
Amid blue and white, black leather jackets stood out.
Hulking sunglasses guy, two underlings.
Scrawny short man, wheelchair woman, one elder.
Underlings restrained the raging hulk yelling to shock him already; others prayed, staring at the humanoid monster.
Humanoid monster. Shockingly, its ceiling-touching bulk had shrunk to average adult male size. Researchers guessed personality activation strengthened body link, reverting to pre-mutation—but evidence thin.
...Tap tap.
“Hm? Bex, what?”
“[Prayer/Target/Christianity/Light Faith/Select]”
“Pfft! Confused whether to pray to this god or Roharam, huh?”
“[Affirmative]”
Bex’s signs—serious post-prayer ‘Amen’ or ‘Latura’?—drew Dana’s soft laugh.
Joking answer, but life-or-death face.
“Both? Body here, mind still there.”
Tap tap.
“[Opinion/Adopted]”
Bex squeezed eyes shut, mumbling indecipherable prayer. Sounded like paladin chants from Professor’s videos.
Beep- beep- beep- beep-
“Heart rate spiking!”
“Medical team standby! Agents arm for any—”
“No need. If a monster’s in Professor Park’s place, I’ll handle it.”
Click!
Ian, shotgun drawn, cut in.
Rising heart rate, lighter flick. Swallows in tense lab.
Beeeeee—
Jagged green line silenced; heaving body stilled.
Somewhere, a sob broke.
...Clank!
Chains binding Professor to table rattled.
Yanking like to snap, the being slowly rose.
Click!
“...Professor? Wave if yes. No answer... I’ll assume mutant fucker ate my friend.”
Clank- clank!
No reply to Ian, just thrashing on table.
Bitten-off cig fell from clenched teeth; tense Bex tensed legs to kick gun—
Twang-!
One chain finally snapped, freeing a hand.
Tension peaked.
Raised hand slowly folded fingers.
“...This fucker?”
Middle finger up.
Signal: returned, the man they knew.
“Grrrr... Stupid fuck...”
“...Professor? Fuck, really you?”
“Vegetable wakes... Blink or something, stupid fuck...”
...Thud!
“Y-You slow-ass fuck! Finally!”
“Haaah... Up, man!”
Ian dropped gun, charged; Bex, set to restrain, joined.
Professor strained blurry vision to take in their faces.
Blatant tears from Bex; Ian’s nostrils flared behind shades.
Suddenly, words I’d wanted to say upon return hit.
“...Do it again.”
“What? Do! Anything! What ya want?!”
“What we did... before I logged in.”
Finger pointed: Bex. 1st.
Ian. 2nd.
Himself. 3rd.
Pre-3rd World imprisonment, post-beatdown by Ian in access pod convo.
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‘Fuck, do it again... Get Bex...’
‘Can’t beat that fucker. You’re 3rd, Professor Park.’
‘Your mom...’
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“...Rematch now, asshole.”
Fist-crunching mutant strength growled in friends’ ears atop him.
“...Gun okay?”
Smack!
Ian reaching for dropped shotgun ate Bex’s kick.
“W-Wel... Welcome back, returnee, uh... re, return! Welcome b-back...”
Bex, blissful regardless of state—I’m back.
And.
Squeeze—
Stumbling beside, soft skin hugged my nape tight.
Fallen Ian yanked Bex; freed arm hugged her back.
“...I’m home.”
“Welcome back.”
I’m home. Words for those with somewhere to return—now mine.
Hospital scent in Dana’s breath: finally felt real.
Dana and I embraced wordlessly long.
Much to say, much mess.
Not a carefree haven.
But back.
Home.
My wasteland.
****