A Hundred Deaths

The moment I stepped into the Tutorial Tower, Rin was there to greet me, trembling from head to toe. I'd only been gone a day, so why did it feel like I hadn't seen her in ages?

"Oppa, are you okay?"

The more I looked at her, the more Rin resembled Han Suhui. I couldn't help growing fonder of her. I gently stroked her hair.

"Don't worry. Even if it costs me my life, I'll protect you no matter what."

It hadn't been an empty promise even back in the modern world, but here it was even closer to the truth. Honestly, I'd lost count of how many times I'd already died. Not that it was information worth knowing anyway.

"Make your choice."

I'd heard Oliver say those words more times than I could count. I checked the quest again.

This was the quest I was going to clear today, no matter what.

I couldn't afford to waste this much time on a mere Chapter 2 quest. I had a clear reason to get stronger as fast as humanly possible. The clearer a person's goal, the more strength they can wring out of themselves.

"I've already made my choice."

I answered without even looking at him, picking up the familiar round shield and taking my place at the starting line.

Somehow, this place where my life hung in the balance felt far more comfortable. Back in the modern world, Song Yura kept getting on my nerves at every little turn...

An arrow screamed toward me — one that would have punched straight through my forehead if I'd let my guard slip for even a second. I flicked it aside with the shield and kicked off the ground.

"...Congratulations on passing the First Gate."

I'd gotten used to that bewildered look of his by now.

The First Gate isn't what matters.

It was the Second Gate I still hadn't cleared even once. I'd come as prepared as I possibly could, but without having confirmed any of it in actual combat, I couldn't call it a sure thing. For a theory to become fact, it had to survive a great deal of revision and proof.

"Weapons of every type have been prepared. Choose whichever you like."

Before Oliver had even finished speaking, I was already picking up the weapons I knew by heart. Two light but extremely sharp daggers, and this time I grabbed a throwing knife as well.

A dagger and a throwing knife. They looked similar at a glance, but the feel of them in your hand was completely different. A throwing knife was a weapon meant to be thrown. A dagger was a weapon meant to cut.

"The time limit is..."

Oliver's voice no longer reached my ears.

...Thirty seconds.

I started counting my own time and drew in a deep breath. Thirty seconds from now. I had to walk through my own time without even exhaling, every nerve in my body stretched to its absolute limit. Just like when I'd lived in a different time zone from those guys during that basketball wager.

I had to leave the ordinary behind.

"Hss..."

The instant I swallowed that small breath, I dropped my stance and kicked off the ground, surging toward the wooden dummies like a crouched wolf lunging to tear out a throat in a single bite.

Wood cracked, splintered, and shattered. I didn't even have time to admire the dummy collapsing the moment I stabbed the red mark on its neck. I had to keep moving. Even so, the timing and the distance were razor-thin.

Faster! More precise!

This was a test you could only pass with clean movements and chained strikes so efficient that even a single second of hesitation was too expensive to spend.

I slipped between the wooden dummies as smoothly as drifting smoke, cleanly slicing through their red marks — the space between the eyes, the crown of the head, even the ankles.

Time remaining? I didn't have the luxury of counting. I simply... knew I still had time, because Oliver hadn't cut my throat yet.

And then, the last one.

Please hit!

I'd practiced, sure — but even a professional would struggle to throw a knife and land it with perfect accuracy the instant they were thrown into a real fight. I snatched the throwing knife from my waist and flung it in the same motion.

The blade sank into the dummy with a heavy thunk — and at the same instant, a cold kiss of iron touched my neck. Oliver had drawn his sword.

But.

"...Impressive."

The fact that he hadn't taken my head in a single stroke. That meant—

"Hah... hah... hah!"

I did it.

I gasped for air, trying to settle a heartbeat that felt ready to explode. My arms and legs were shaking like mad.

Damn it. I was hoping I'd get something. There's nothing.

After all that, I'd honestly expected some kind of system response — the way it had been when I unlocked an achievement. A skill being generated, maybe, or a stat increase. That was what I'd been hoping for. But there wasn't the slightest hint of anything happening.

Karina kept her mouth shut too.

Guess I just have to hope the last gate is ridiculously easy?

If they hadn't expected anyone to pass the First and Second Gates — if the third one had been designed with the difficulty dialed down — that would've been the best possible outcome for me. But this was still a quest. Just as Rin's existence as my little sister had been an inevitable part of my tutorial, the system wasn't that sloppy.

"Congratulations on passing the Second Gate. I mean that."

I could tell Oliver's congratulations were genuine just from the affinity message.

Stingy as hell, though. Not that I had any intention of getting close to beings like Oliver or Jan anyway.

"Skip the congratulations and just explain the last gate."

Oliver let out a small sigh.

"If you'd just died at the First or Second Gate, you wouldn't have been left with hope or lingering attachment."

From my perspective — having already died dozens of times, needing to clear this last gate just to move forward — I'd never heard a bigger load of crap. But from the perspective of someone who didn't know that, I supposed it made sense. I could understand that much.

"There's no need to explain the Third Gate. You'll understand when you see it. Think of it as a comprehensive evaluation of the gates you've already passed."

The moment Oliver finished speaking, even the wooden dummies vanished, and something small and iron rose from the floor with a heavy clunk. No — that wasn't a cage. It was a prison cell.

"..."

Not a single sound leaked from inside, but I knew someone was locked in there. Of course I did. Goosebumps had already crawled over my entire body before the prison even finished rising.

Fuck.

I could understand a difference in perspective. Understanding that was another matter. Maybe my heart was just too small — but every inch of my flesh was trembling.

"..."

The crude Killing Aura I'd tasted in the survival-of-the-fittest space had all been a joke compared to this. A Killing Aura so sharp it felt like it was carving the flesh from my bones stabbed at me from every direction.

Even so, it's nothing to Oliver, huh?

The only emotion on Oliver's face was still pity. Judging by the fact that he hadn't even put a hand on his sword hilt, he still had room to spare.

What a monstrous family.

The Esteber family, was it? I didn't know much about them, but the more I saw, the more I had no choice but to acknowledge how formidable they were. Even with the System and Demonic Energy backing me, even after being honed by passing two gates — from their perspective, I was still nothing but a chick.

The eldest daughter of the Esteber family, was it? That woman's completely emotionless voice tickled my ear.

"You never know until you try."

The moment I steeled myself and stepped forward, Oliver looked at me with pitying eyes.

"Inside that cell is an orc who has earned the title of Warrior. Your job is to kill it and survive."

"Heh..."

I couldn't help laughing when I heard that. It wasn't a laugh of contempt. The First and Second Gates had at least had some passive elements to them. This last gate was the ultimate expression of fluidity — a living, thinking opponent.

A living creature...

Of course, if I repeated the exact same actions without changing a single detail, the opponent would respond the same way. But could I really say that the first response I chose was unconditionally the right one?

Right. There was no avoiding it anyway. If I had to do it, then I'd just do it.

"Open it."

The cell door clanked and groaned open, and I came face to face with an orc a full one and a half times my size. It wasn't even holding a weapon.

But—

GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

The unexpectedly magnificent roar froze my body against my will. A massive green fist filled my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠vision as it dropped toward my head.

Crunch.

That was the first death I met at the orc's hands. A hollow end in which I couldn't even put up a proper fight — but the horrific pain of my skull being crushed was searingly, unforgettably vivid.

This wasn't a fight of killing and being killed. This was a fight where only one-sided death awaited. Die, die, and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠die again. All I could do was repeat death.

Messages like that popped up from time to time. The slight improvement in skill ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from infinitely repeating the First and Second Gates had seemed to offer a thread of hope.

The orc roared again.

Even if I'd staked my life on it, what I had was nothing more than a cheap trick honed in a fleeting moment. An Orc Warrior, was it? Those eyes. The countless scars carved into its body. And above all, movements without a single wasted motion — despite what couldn't have been a short time locked in that prison. It toyed with me even without a weapon. That alone told me how much time it had invested to reach that level.

But...

Eat shit.

If I was short on time, I'd invest time. I just had no intention of wasting it stupidly. I moved carefully, staking my life and giving everything I had, one attempt at a time.

I abandoned the arrogance of thinking I'd finish it in a single day and invested two days, then three. Even when I was back in the modern world, Han Suhui and the people around me scolded me for spacing out. Inside my head, the battle with the orc never stopped.

And eventually... I reached it.

The dagger sank deep into the orc's eye. Ghastly purple blood dripped from the blade in thick, heavy drops.

Do you know the expression on an orc's face when it freezes in shock without even screaming? The pleasure and sense of accomplishment I felt seeing that was practically a drug. It felt like I was being paid back with an even greater reward for how hard it had been, using the insane method of throwing my life away.

But at the same time, a low growl rumbled from its throat. No matter how hard I struggled, the despair of realizing there was an unbridgeable gap in innate stats between us was beyond words.

"Goddamn it!"

Even I couldn't hold it in. I had no choice but to howl. This was a quest designed from the start to be impossible to clear. This difficulty — even with four achievements?

Even so.

"Open it."

I absolutely would not break. If there was no right answer, I'd just make one with my own hands. If I lacked power, I'd just obtain that power.

And...

In the end, I claimed my weapon.