Chapter 7
Chapter 7
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: Operator II
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Administrator II
Shin Noah
“Site administration?”
“Yeah.”
…It was a skill I’d never heard of in my life.
It made sense, given that Seo-gyu surviving this long was a first, but I’d never even heard of anything similar.
“What exactly does it do?”
“Hmm. It’s limited to one domain name, but it lets anyone connect to it.”
My eyes widened.
“What? Anyone? From anywhere?”
“Uh, yeah.”
Seo-gyu’s voice grew quieter and quieter, the opposite of mine. It dripped with disappointment.
He clearly had no idea what value his awakened skill held.
“I tested it yesterday by making a website. But the skill needs to level up for the design to get decent. Right now, it’s stuck at those old-school homepage vibes like what the grandparents use… I can’t even show it off to the others. It’s useless in combat, too…”
What.
“Do you have to give permission for people to sign up on this site or something?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. It just looks like a website on the surface, but it’s all built from my skill—like an architecture made of my power. Um, my will reflects in real-time? My will itself? Anyway, it’s because my skill’s still weak, but if I made a membership system… Uh. Probably no one could join without my permission…?”
Holy shit.
I reflexively placed a hand on his shoulder.
Seo-gyu lifted his head. Our eyes met.
“Seo-gyu. Remember when we first met, I said I was a National Intelligence Service agent?”
“Yeah…”
“That was a lie.”
“Yeah…?”
“I made it up so you’d buy it easily. Of course, I gave you the chance to pick and choose what to believe. Let me say it again: I’m a regressor.”
“Yeah?”
“Seo-gyu, you always whined about how all our party members are geniuses except you, the late bloomer, right? Simple. I’ve regressed about fifty times, cherry-picking only proven geniuses for my party. You’re the first. An unscratched lottery ticket. Hell, how did you keep dying in the Busan Station waiting room every single one of those fifty rounds?”
“Yeah?”
“Your skill is now called [Ubiquitous].”
Ubiquitous.
A term from Latin meaning existing everywhere, regardless of place.
It was often used to describe God being present everywhere at once, but what mattered now was that it came from Latin. Latin had this magic that made anything sound cool.
“Most skills get their power from the name. Site administration? Community manager? Mobile network? Forget all that. You’re just Ubiquitous.”
“Ubiquitous…”
Sure enough, Seo-gyu’s expression started to light up.
I grinned.
“Seo-gyu. Let’s do something together.”
4
I took Seo-gyu straight to Yongsan.
The Saintess greeted us in her living room—a dizzying aquarium setup that left you wondering if it was for humans or fish—her personal underwater temple.
She listened silently to my explanation, then spoke.
“That’s huge.”
“Right?”
As expected of the Saintess. She instantly grasped the value of Seo-gyu’s skill.
Seo-gyu himself, meanwhile, just stared blankly at her face, clueless. When she turned to him, he snapped out of it and hurriedly looked away.
“Uh, um. What’s so great about my skill…?”
“Seo-gyu. Imagine all the Awakeners signing up for your site. If you make them fill out personal details, all their info flows straight to you. You’d know everything they post, too.”
“Ah… But hyung, why would those big shots bother signing up? Especially with their personal info…?”
I nodded.
“They’ll sign up for sure.”
It hadn’t even been a year since the Gate incident broke out.
So Seo-gyu, the other Awakeners, even regular people—they were all still optimistic or just bystanding. Not being great with the internet wouldn’t ruin your life.
“But this world’s only going to get messier.”
Starting from year two, everything turns dire fast.
Korea was relatively tame only because of the Saintess’s ‘constellation play-acting.’ Other countries were already showing signs of warlord factions forming.
“Seo-gyu. Humans lose their minds when cut off from the outside. But your site isn’t propped up by tech—it’s your awakened skill, Ubiquitous. As long as you’re alive, it’s a plaza anyone can access anytime.”
“…”
“The big guilds will spot its value right away. It’s a way to stay in touch even inside Gates.”
“Y-Yeah…”
Seo-gyu nodded hesitantly.
I couldn’t help but give a wry smile.
In my view, an Awakener’s skill tier depended on how well it overcame time and space limits. By that metric, Seo-gyu had awakened an S-rank skill.
Like holding a rare treasure sword but being clueless about its worth.
The Saintess looked just as unimpressed as I did.
“Ubiquitous…”
“Hm?”
Correction. The Saintess was looking at me, not Seo-gyu.
“What’s up?”
“…Nothing. Just, it has this oddly old-fashioned ring to it. So that’s your naming style.”
“Huh? Isn’t it cool?”
“…Sure.”
Weird reaction.
Anyway, the priority was Seo-gyu’s skill. I got to the point.
“They say seeing is believing. Let’s discuss with the Saintess here how to design the site.”
“Ah. P-Please take care of me…?”
“Sure. Likewise.”
Seo-gyu awkwardly shook hands with the Saintess.
Thankfully, the awkwardness didn’t last. Not only had I revealed I was a regressor, but I’d also spilled that the Saintess was the real deal behind the constellations.
A scream echoed through the aquarium living room.
“—Gah! The constellations are all fake?!”
Seo-gyu looked shell-shocked.
No wonder. Realizing his secret cheer-up pen pals were all imaginary would make anyone’s head spin.
“No way… Seriously, what are you and the doctor up to? You aiming for world domination or something…?”
“Hey. Don’t talk like you’re not involved.”
You’re part of our party now.
“First, Saintess. Disguise the site as a constellation’s power.”
“Got it.”
“Seo-gyu, act like you’re the admin who took over site ops from the constellation.”
“Ah, yes, hyung.”
The plan progressed smoothly.
We chugged precious coffee and powered through. With all three of us hunched over computers, the mystical underwater temple turned into a damn PC bang.
“PC bang… Fish bang. Nice.”
“...?”
The Saintess glanced over at my mutter.
Her look wasn’t friendly, so I switched topics fast.
“Saintess. Any ideas for the site name?”
“The name?”
Topic change: success.
“…How about [Apocalypse Gallery]?”
“Hmm. Great, but ‘gallery’ screams one specific site. We’re going for old-school membership site or cafe vibes, not that. Seo-gyu?”
“Uh… [Viva! Doomed World!]?”
“Cool name, but remember, it’s supposed to be constellation-made. Too upbeat. Modern folks thrown into monster fights might not vibe with it.”
“Tough…”
“Hm.”
Then a great idea hit me.
Two weeks later, we launched the site big-time.
- Playground of the Constellations!
- The one safe internet community!
- Welcome to SG Net!
5
We settled on SG Net for the name.
Layers of meaning there.
First, SG was the nickname I used before learning Seo-gyu’s real name. Coincidentally, ‘Seo-gyu’ abbreviated to SG too.
Finally, as a constellation-run site, ‘Constellation Net’—which shortens to SG again.
Beyond two birds one stone—three birds!
Naming talent, maybe? Between Ubiquitous and this, was I some hidden polymath? Sometimes even I scared myself.
“…”
The Saintess eyed me like she had plenty to say but wouldn’t. I ignored her.
Beside her, Seo-gyu sulked.
“No one’s joining but us yet, hyung…”
He stared endlessly at the monitor.
In two weeks, he’d gotten comfy with his skill, prettied up the site a bit. Still, it was basically PC comms with a single whisker grown.
No viewers meant even great design was pointless, but we had near-free marketing.
“Saintess, hit ‘em with an ad.”
Namely, the ad agency called constellations!
“On it.”
The Saintess clasped her hands.
Instantly, every Awakener in Korea got the same messages.
[‘Nameless Obscure Constellation’ activates its power.]
[‘Nameless Obscure Constellation’ invites you!]
Plus the site URL blasted out.
Seo-gyu watched the monitor tensely, silent.
Soon, the user count at the top skyrocketed.
“Ten… Ninety… Two hundred. Five hundred? Wow. How many Awakeners are even in Korea…”
Seo-gyu muttered.
But his surprise was nothing compared to the other Awakeners logging in.
You could feel their panic through the screen. Posts flooded the empty community.
-Anonymous: Why’s this one working fine? Weird site? (2)
-Anonymous: Came at the constellation’s call. (0)
-Anonymous: Anyone know who this ‘Nameless Obscure Constellation’ is? (15)
-Anonymous: Whew, not just me who got the message. (1)
Knowing it was constellation-created, their tones stayed mostly polite.
Awakeners posted and replied, gauging the situation amid confusion. The (2), (15) were reply counts.
They were still ‘Anonymous’ non-members, no sign-ups yet.
“Seo-gyu. Now.”
“Got it, hyung. Posting!”
Seo-gyu posted as ‘Administrator.’
The notice was straightforward.
──────────
1. This site is accessible anytime, anywhere.
2. A constellation who can’t reveal its name opened SG Net for fun. I’m its proxy.
3. The more active members are, the more SG Net grows. Think of members as devotees, activity as worship. The stronger your ‘faith,’ the mightier the descended constellation.
4. Non-members get 1 hour daily; members unlimited. Non-members are outsiders, members believers—bear with it.
5. ‘Nameless Obscure Constellation’ asks nothing but your community activity.
6. Your personal info is strictly protected.
──────────
Everything but #1 was pure bullshit from start to finish.
The notice sparked chaos among non-members. Replies piled up—dozens, hundreds.
-Anonymous: You’re really the proxy?
-Cooking Queen: Admin, how do I become the constellation’s apostle?
-Anonymous: Smartass.
-Goryeo Jang: Why do these kids talk like such dicks?
-Anonymous: How do we know it’s real? Could be a monster prank.
Some Awakeners had already signed up.
Fastest were ‘Cooking Queen’ and ‘Goryeo Jang,’ prompting others to sneak in.
“This is actually working…?”
Seo-gyu gawked in awe.
He kept furiously logging member info into a text file.
Doubters among non-members got Saintess messages.
[‘Crimson Cloak Chancellor’ grudgingly confirms that constellation’s words are true.]
[‘Saintess of National Salvation’ advises long internet sessions harm real life.]
Borrowing other constellations’ clout to vouch for SG Net.
Even the most skeptical Awakeners backed down.
Non-members flipped to members en masse.
Info poured in; Seo-gyu buzzed with excitement.
“Woo, we’re done, hyung.”
“Good work.”
I patted his shoulder.
“But we’re not done—we’re just starting.”
“...?”
Seo-gyu didn’t get it.
Of course not. How could he guess how I’d use SG Net?
“Let’s keep it up. Seo-gyu.”
“Huh? Oh, hyung, I should be saying that to you!”
The slightly dopey but obedient kid grinned brightly.
6
Sadly, the 50th round’s world didn’t escape doom.
But SG Net proved its worth. That alone made the round meaningful.
Me, the Saintess, Seo-gyu—we three, the creators and admins, went through all sorts of shit. Plenty of side stories there; I’ll mention them when relevant.
One big change from the 50th: my routine at the start of each new regression shifted.
“Aah, hello everyone! Eek? A bit fewer than usual… Anyway, you must all be shocked waking up summoned here out of nowhere! But no worries! I’m your friendly guide from the start!”
Before, opening my eyes in Busan Station, I only thought about rushing to Old Man Show’s cafe.
Not anymore.
One more person to save.
“So now…”
“You fucking bastard! What bullshit is that!”
A booming roar echoed.
I smiled at the familiar voice.
Like my personal alarm reminding me life restarted.
I stepped forward, resolved for this round, listening to the cursing I’d kinda missed.
“You fucking bastard!”
- Administrator. End.