A Terrifying Reunion
The feeling of having survived was supposed to be a positive thing. The feeling of reunion was supposed to be positive. Especially when the line between life and death had grown so thin, it should have felt even more that way. But for some reason, Cheon Mari terrified me right now. She was something worse than those skeletons over there. Not the crazy female classmate I’d spent my school days with, but the hidden boss. The regressor. Those emotions crashed over me all at once.
Cheon Mari tilted her head, then glanced behind her.
Her expression changed instantly. A mix of bewilderment and panic. The look of someone who’d found a person who absolutely should not be there. The feeling was mutual. If it had been any other hunter, fine. But Cheon Mari? Here? And what was that meaningful remark she’d made after landing? Had she been here before? To take something useful?
If an ordinary hunter had fallen down here, I would have assumed it was a rescue team and felt a surge of hope. But from the current Cheon Mari, I saw neither hope nor even the faintest ray of light for escape.
— People entangled with them rarely meet good ends.
— Those who learn their identity are forced into a horrific fate.
Two simple statements. It might have seemed like an overreaction, but when you considered what a regressor actually was, there was no way to brush it off. They were desensitized to death, colder than anyone else on Earth. Even if it was one of their own acquaintances, there would be no exception. They had watched acquaintances die. They had even sacrificed them when necessary.
This is dangerous. Extremely dangerous.
Unless it was someone truly close, anyone could become a sacrifice. Sure, after fourth grade in elementary school, the two of us had grown a little closer. We played games together. Went to the movies. I’d been invited to her house for meals. Somehow we’d even learned each other’s resident registration numbers. Taken photos together. Exchanged a hundred to two hundred messages a day, most of them filled with curses. Given each other letters and cakes for birthdays. I’d even received a model Luger P08 enchanted with gaming RGB magic as a birthday gift.
But no matter how you looked at it, being acquaintances wasn’t the same as being friends with a regressor. For me, every interaction felt like walking a tightrope over a cliff. On top of that, because of what happened back in first grade, there was a chance I still wasn’t exactly a positive memory in her head. That alone was serious enough, and since I hadn’t forgotten it either, I never let my guard down around her. It might have been prejudice, but for a stranger from another world trying to survive, it was an unavoidable prejudice.
And today, that wall of prejudice had crumbled. In this sudden situation, the truth I had buried had risen to the surface. Now, while the regressor was looking for her hidden piece, I had to pray I wouldn’t be killed to eliminate any evidence.
In every possible way, it felt like I had stepped into a trap while casually walking down the street.
“Hmm. Am I seeing things?”
Cheon Mari was watching me with clear suspicion. I took a few cautious steps back. The anxiety was overwhelming.
“Did one of the undead use transformation magic or something?”
Wait, that wasn’t it. I had the distinct feeling a sword was about to come out. I tried to come up with an excuse to survive, but she beat me to it.
“You crazy bitch, what the hell are you talking about? You’ve come to my house plenty of times, but I’ve never gone to yours.”
The answer shot out before I could stop it, raw and honest, laced with vulgarity. I froze the moment the words left my mouth. She wasn’t going to stab me with a sword over this later, right? If I died here, there wouldn’t even be any evidence left.
Despite my panic, her reaction remained perfectly calm. She sounded genuinely curious about why I was here. For a split second I wrestled with whether I should just tell her the truth. Then I noticed something at the edge of my vision.
“Hey! Cheon Mari! Behind you!”
While I was distracted, the skeletons had closed in right in front of her. One of them had already raised a massive club, ready to swing it down.
A questioning answer. The perfect setup for someone about to get smashed. But the moment the club came down, Cheon Mari’s foot twisted. Blue particles wrapped around her leg as a bonus.
A kick?
The instant I realized what kind of attack was coming, a spinning kick tore through the air with a sound like ripping canvas. It wasn’t “launched.” It exploded. With a single strike, the skeleton’s body shattered into pieces. No—some parts were literally pulverized into dust. The bone fragments, now twisted into unrecognizable shapes, slammed into the far wall. It was a brutal end, even for a monster.
On the other hand, the regressor who had accomplished all of this in one move spun once in mid-air and politely spread both arms.
That self-satisfied little performance only highlighted the massive gap between us. I had needed multiple moves just to take down one, but she hadn’t even broken a sweat.
Clatter. Clack—
Even after taking out one, plenty of skeletons remained. Cheon Mari set her bag down and drew the longsword from her waist. It was a plain black blade with minimal decoration and sharp, mechanical angles. As a regressor, I’d expected her to carry something impressive, but this was anything but. The company logo Nartika was stamped prominently on the side. Just a mass-produced sword. Even without the logo, the overall design screamed factory assembly line—metal stamped, screws tightened, shipped. There was zero romance or soul in it.
Cheon Mari gave the sword a light swing with her bandaged hand.
She kicked off the giant skeleton’s corpse and shot high into the air. After one spin, she landed gracefully among the white bones. The skeleton horde seemed momentarily stunned by her sudden appearance. They had no idea this would be the last thing they ever saw.
Slash—!
The black metal whipped through the air at blinding speed. One skeleton shattered instantly. Then another. And another. But she didn’t stop there. Cheon Mari twisted her waist, legs, arms, and hips, moving faster and more powerfully with every strike. It was a scene I had seen countless times in the game—one I had grown to hate. Except this wasn’t a fixed pattern like in the game. Every movement was pure improvisation. Pure skill.
The blue-lit sword painted broad strokes while her red eyes drew sharp lines, completing the picture. The destructive sword dance showed no signs of slowing down. Among people our age, there was probably no one who could stand against her. In fact, I was certain of it. The only reason so few knew was because Cheon Mari hid her true strength so thoroughly.
I watched the display while coughing up more blood. It was still red.
For now, I should be okay.
It took quite a while to finish clearing out the skeletons. The ones from the surrounding floors had all come crawling up, rising endlessly from the horrible darkness. If I had been alone, I would have died long ago, or it would have taken a torturously long time. But Cheon Mari handled them with ridiculous ease. Ordinary skeletons fell to raw power and speed. The tougher ones fell to technique. Her performance was so overwhelming it even dulled the extreme wariness born from pain and fear. For me, it was nothing short of salvation.
Even so, the fact that she hadn’t spoken to me at all left the anxiety simmering.
I hadn’t exactly been hoping for that moment to arrive. Especially not while the two of us were heading down to the lower floors together. Cheon Mari walked ahead, smiling brightly in my direction. Meanwhile, I could only sigh at the reality that I had no choice but to follow if I wanted to stay alive.
“Where do you want to start?”
The way she shoved her face close and acted all coy was infuriating. I made the face I usually reserved for cockroaches.
“Ugh. Gross.”
“Friend? Who said we’re friends?”
“Wow.”
“Look at that shameless face. Unbelievable.”
After all the fights we had in elementary school, she was calling us childhood friends now. Tier-one shamelessness. I had nothing left to say. I touched my injured arm and spoke quietly.
“Sigh… Fine. I’ll ask first. Why did you come down here?”
“Yeah.”
It was a pathetic excuse. It had zero persuasive power. The timing of our meeting was quite a while after the first earthquake. If she had been trapped above, she would have already been rescued or at least waiting for rescue. The real reason was probably what she had muttered to herself earlier—she had business with some hidden item. Or rather, that was the nicely packaged version. The truth was most likely that she had simply come here to steal it.
Regressor trait: wandering around digging up hidden SSS-grade items and strange artifacts.
There was no physical evidence yet since the story hadn’t truly begun, but the circumstantial evidence felt overwhelming. The urge to slam the truth right into her face was rising fast.