Chapter 115
Chapter 115
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 115
Chapter Title: The One Who Is Not a Player III
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Shin Noah
5
This world has been contaminated.
It wasn’t just the material spaces that had been defiled. The mental world, even the minds of the Awakeners, had been thoroughly stained with filth.
-Anonymous: (Recommended) ☆☆☆ Level 5~Level 10 ☆☆☆ EXP Farming Honey Hunting Grounds Dungeon List. Must-read for newbies!!
-Anonymous: Got up at dawn today, filled 10,000 EXP, grabbed items, settled up, and now pounding beers. Insane?
-Goryeo Jang: Today’s Café Mocha.png
-Anonymous: LFG Level 10 party!! No NPC porters ㅠㅠ
-[Three Thousand] Witch Judge: Kids. Got this Black Orb of Messia (S) equipment while hunting monsters today. Is this good?
Behold. This rotten mental world.
SG Net had devolved into this state not long after the arrival of the “online RPG.”
As expected of Koreans, who had long called themselves a gaming nation even before the apocalypse, they adapted with terrifying speed. The clichés common in subculture were entirely skipped.
“What? The world… turned into a game?”
“This is absolutely not weird……”
“That cheater bastard. How does he know every game mechanic we don’t?”
Even elementary school kids accepted the new reality with the calm expression of a seasoned veteran: “What? We’ve become game players? About time.”
Soon, SG Net was flooded with strategy guides. There was no need for me to don the mask of the “Great Library Society” and diligently post攻略s. Everyone voluntarily, proactively, and enthusiastically tackled the anomalies.
This was absolutely not normal.
“Why the long face…? Hmm. Isn’t it actually better than before, when you’d tremble at the sight of anomalies? Now they’re swarming the Void on their own to level up……”
“That’s the problem—they’re exploring the Void with game instincts. They should grasp the world through their own intuition, through hard-earned experience, but instead, they’re peering at a refracted world through the lens provided by those anomaly scum.”
“Hmm……”
“This ‘online game’ is a massive Void in itself. Awakeners calling themselves players are essentially devolving into anomalies of the Void!”
“Well, there’s some truth to that… but it kinda looks like you’re just pissed that anomalies stole your exclusive fame and achievements… or is that my misunderstanding?”
No need to respect the opinion of someone who views the world through warped lenses: Poison Pokémon.
I’d traveled to Japan, China, and even Mongolia and India. Everywhere, they were infected by the “online RPG.”
‘…This is no small matter.’
It wasn’t just human perception that had changed.
The anomalies were changing too.
“Ehehe. Slimes are overflowing by the river these days—super easy to hunt…!”
Take Sim A-ryeon, who caught them daily for stress relief and beat them half to death with her club.
These slimes weren’t originally common anomalies. They rarely appeared in sewers and almost never surfaced.
Unless you went underground, most Awakeners never encountered slimes in daily life.
Yet their numbers were exploding. Now, slimes bounced around casually even on ordinary riverbanks.
Plop♪
Plop-plop♪
Thanks to that, Sim A-ryeon’s slime-beating sound effects echoed nonstop in our guild’s front yard.
It was this noise pollution that made me seriously decide to relocate our guild hideout.
It also spurred the development of “depth”—a rigorously proven, objective academic standard, not some baseless S-rank, SSS-rank, EX-rank system from 100 meters to 1200 meters.
“P-power leveling…! Beating slimes in the front yard makes my Poison Bird skill level up like crazy! This is it—the basement stairs lead to a secret elixir mine only I know, or a hidden honey spot only the protagonist can farm…!”
Sim A-ryeon’s healing had reached the point where she could fully restore patients with just their heads attached, even if their limbs were torn off during transport.
More and more Awakeners on SG Net called her “Angel.”
This was absolutely not normal.
In this rotten world, slimes weren’t the only anomaly surging in numbers.
Goblins, orcs, ogres, trolls. In short, classic game monsters were steadily filling the Void.
There was only one way to explain this phenomenon.
‘The online game is eroding not just Awakeners, but anomalies too…?’
A chill ran down my spine.
An anomaly that didn’t discriminate between humans and ki, didn’t stay confined to specific places, unbound by time or space, endlessly expanding its domain.
Estranged God.
Yes. As if waiting for Mugeon’s subjugation, another unidentified Estranged God was extending its tentacles.
Disguised in the mask of “games,” which humans couldn’t easily resist.
-Anonymous: (Proof pic) Broke damage record beating orcs lol
-Anonymous: Game is seriously too fun.
-Anonymous: LFG Level 20 party!! Already got 1 NPC porter!!
-Anonymous: Trading troll eyeballs in front of Gimhae Dungeon?
SG Net was becoming indistinguishable from a game forum.
Before long, “monster” replaced “anomaly” as the natural term, and non-Awakeners without skills were called NPCs.
Killing monsters dropped “items.” Slime cores, goblin teeth, orc hearts, etc. These materials had specific effects, viewable in the “item window.”
Everything was a game.
…I shared my hypothesis with the Regression Alliance members. No Do-ha and the Saintess finally looked grave.
“No Do-ha Corps Leader. Officially declare the ‘online game’ an anomaly under the National Highway Management Corps’ name. We need to wake people up now.”
“Understood. But I doubt how effective warnings will be at this point. Everyone’s showing game addiction symptoms……”
Game addiction.
Another symptom of Awakeners infected by this Estranged God. Far beyond the pre-apocalypse media hype.
Now, Awakeners saw the “game-formed world” as more real and desirable. Posts flooded SG Net every three seconds.
“Saintess. Keep role-playing as the ‘online game’ operator, making sure people don’t suspect anything. We can’t subjugate it yet, but we can at least stem the faith spreading to it.”
“…Yes. Got it.”
With these countermeasures, we held it off until the 134th regression.
But inwardly, I was already bracing for the next. Hijacking the “status window” brought “EXP,” “level,” “damage”—more anomalies.
What anomaly awaited next?
Awakeners across the Korean Peninsula—no, the world—were deeply addicted to the “online game.” Its stats and levels felt certain, turning the fear-filled Void into EXP-rich hunting grounds.
Humanity cornered the Void more than ever, racking up victories. By serving the anomalies themselves.
Suddenly, a monologue from the protagonist of [Catcher in the Rye] came to mind.
…You like games, huh? Fine. If you end up on a team full of the best players, sure, life’s a game. I’ll admit it. But if you’re stuck on the opposite team, where not a single hotshot shows their face, then what the hell kind of god game is that? It’s nothing. Not a game at all……
As long as Awakeners appeared to be winning, the “online game” was a sport.
But how long would that last?
Despite the Corps Leader’s warnings, Awakeners didn’t quit. They drowned in the thrill of endless level-ups.
And one day.
Like the precursor before a massive quake, a message arrived.
[The Operator of Myriad Phenomena Game announces a new event.]
6
Flashback.
“Oh, right. Why’d you suddenly act like a weird constellation a few days ago?”
“Huh?”
“A week ago. You sent a message as ‘Operator of Myriad Phenomena Game.’ I was surprised the Saintess could mess up too. Did you send me a message meant for another Awakener?”
“…?”
Those with good memory would recall it immediately.
This was the anecdote I mentioned at the end when recounting my first meeting with the Saintess.
“I never sent that message.”
“Huh?”
“I’ve never even created a constellation called Operator of Myriad Phenomena Game. Are you sure, Undertaker?”
“……”
A “mysterious constellation” the Saintess never created had sent a message.
I just recount episodes as they come, unbound by strict timelines, but in regression order, it goes like this.
117th regression. Subjugated Estranged God “Mugeon.”
118th regression. First sighted “Hero Syndrome.”
119th regression. First sighted “Reincarnation Truck.”
126th regression. Subjugated “Salvation Narrative Syndrome.”
133rd regression. First sighted “status window.”
134th regression. First sighted Estranged God (presumed) “online game.”
And in the 134th, I received a message from the mysterious constellation—or whatever it was, questionable if it even qualified.
My razor-sharp regressor instincts, honed over countless cycles, spiked like a seismograph needle.
My instincts were spot on. The 134th was just a foreshock.
The main quake hit in the next: the 135th.
-Anonymous: These guys seriously game 24/7 lol Log off and go outside lololol
The 135th was basically like the 134th.
Except, at some point, bizarre posts started appearing.
-Anonymous: For us, game is reality? For us, game is reality? For us, game is reality?
└Anonymous: Fr lol
└Anonymous: I’ve been playing “reality” for 50,783 hours straight ㄷㄷㄷㄷ
└Anonymous: You log off.
-Anonymous: This guy posts crap at dawn and still at it……
└Anonymous: What?
On the surface, just normal community banter. No issues.
But all Voids disguise themselves as utterly natural. As schools. Tunnels. Oceans.
Eventually.
-Anonymous: Fml played too long, body’s stiff af, logging off first
The Void descended like a snapped thread.
-Anonymous: Guys plz, too sleepy can’t log in anymore; heading out
-Anonymous: Logging out to live real life~
-Anonymous: LFG Level 30 party!! Already got 3 NPC porters!!
-Anonymous: Ugh game’s so dead. Quitting this trash game
SG Net users posted about logging out or quitting one by one.
But as we all know, the “online game” overlays reality.
How do you “log out” or quit a game that is reality?
[Undertaker.]
The answer came to me unbidden.
[The Awakeners aren’t moving.]
“…You mean they’re dead?”
[Yes. Mostly. But it’s weird. Some Awakeners go completely still, like in a coma, then resume normal activity shortly after.]
“……”
[Like logging into the game.]
It resembled zombies.
Like monsters active at night but freezing at sunlight, Awakeners showed no movement during “logout.”
[Awakeners in coma state show nothing through my Clairvoyance. Pure darkness. Just pitch black.]
Attacking a “logged out” Awakener did no damage. Blades passed through as if they didn’t exist in this world.
Even Sim A-ryeon, our guild’s biggest “online game” fan, couldn’t escape.
“—Ah, Guild Master!”
She ran up to me, eyes wide.
…Incredible muscle control for someone who’d stood rigidly for three days straight without twitching.
“Were you waiting for me?”
“…Yeah.”
“Waaah! Thank you! Eheh. Even NPCs change reactions when affinity goes up!”
“……”
“Tried to come back quick, but real life got in the way… But I fixed it this time!”
Originally, among “addicts,” NPC meant non-Awakeners without skills.
Now it was different.
Over time, even ordinary people gained minor abilities and logged in as players without hesitation.
Now, NPCs were No Do-ha or me—those who didn’t log in at all.
Paradoxically, addicts started calling those who could stay “in-game” 24/7 as NPCs.
To them, No Do-ha building highways across the peninsula was a true “quest.”
I was treated as a “hidden NPC,” dispensing jobs, skills, and training methods to players.
Who was the real NPC?
From my view, they—devoured by anomalies, reduced to Void puppets—were the true NPCs. But they saw me as one.
I thought:
If this is Zhuangzi’s butterfly dream, it’s a viciously tenacious nightmare of the butterfly.