Chapter 5
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Familiar Things
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Inside the collapsed building, the gate—which should have shimmered blue—was belching out black light, and monsters were bursting from it in grotesque waves. This was the result of failing to clear the dungeon beyond the gate within a month. A dungeon break.
If no one had tried to raid the gate, the association would have handled it swiftly, but unfortunately, a guild had stepped up to conquer it. They’d filed a false report with the association claiming it cleared, hidden the gate with items, and planned to deal with it before the deadline—but time had slipped by unnoticed.
Boom! The endless stream of monsters slammed into the building, cracking the walls until they finally crumbled to the ground in a violent tremor.
But that barely registered with me. I’d seen it happen too many times. No matter what anyone did, the outcome was always the same. Nothing about it could hold my interest. Not when my attention was fixed elsewhere.
*Really this stupid.*
Thwack! I gripped my scythe and leaped lightly, severing the neck of a monster charging straight at me. Its massive head came clean off and tumbled across the floor.
My brother’s possession. A little thought, and it all became clear when it had started—but with no memories of my own regressions, the truth terrified me. I’d run from it.
*It’s obvious nothing changed from the very beginning, but that’s exactly what scares me, so I just…*
Ha. A short breath escaped me. It was winter cold, so my breath puffed out white and vanished.
*All because of that one tiny lump. A fleeting moment of happiness, stained.*
Kablooey! I hacked through the monsters with rough swings, dropping them one by one. Amid the corpses, I scooped up a few falling items.
My graduation gown had shifted at some point into a white jeogori, black dapho, and white sash. Tucked inside the sleeve, on the inner side of my right wrist, glowed a pattern of white light. But none of it mattered much to me anymore. I was used to it all.
*…Too complacent.*
No, I had no choice. Across countless repeated loops, I could swear: no anomalies ever struck in my childhood, when memories failed me. That was just how it was. Natural to me. And yet.
*Damn it, why now of all times.*
Anomalies were supposed to happen when I had memories to rely on.
The world must hate me. Otherwise, curses like this damn regression and clashing anomalies wouldn’t pile up on me like this.
*I’ve blamed the world plenty… but this is too much.*
Splash. Black monster blood sprayed, splattering across the glowing white pattern.
Patterns. They popped up out of nowhere, granting people immense power with no apparent cost. Suspicious as hell, but digging into their origins turned up nothing, so everyone just shrugged it off. Now, though, I had a pretty good idea where they came from.
It all boiled down to one word: *novel*.
Sudden appearances, altered appearances, enabled abilities, even crafting useful weapons—all of it explained by *novel*.
So damn simple. The gates appearing. Monsters spawning. Me regressing. Everything!
*…Come to think of it, my setup is way too unfair.*
Some people regress, piece together forgotten knowledge after the fact, then apply it on retry. Others get future memories handed to them on a platter, no sweat, and implement right away.
*I wonder what else they know.*
Anything I don’t, hopefully…
*For now, safest to treat them as allies.*
Of course, I wouldn’t be showing my own hand. Revealing it never ended well before. Nothing ever changed.
*…My goal stays the same.*
Save them all.
Clunk. With the monsters wiped out, I slammed my scythe into the ground and deactivated Pattern Activation. Clothes reverted to my graduation gown as the scythe dissolved into the air from where it stuck in the earth.
And whoosh—my legs buckled.
*…Wish this part would change.*
I grabbed my shaking legs and hauled myself upright.
That damn pattern—regrettably, it wasn’t like in comics where awakening meant instant mastery. Hand a newborn a laptop, and they won’t know what to do with it. My body couldn’t adapt to the sudden power surge yet; more leaked out unused than I could wield. Perfect Pattern Harmony would fix that—or even halfway there—but no such luck. It was brand new.
“Ji-eon-ah?”
As I steadied my wobbly legs, my parents came into view, standing dazed in the distance and calling my name. Sweat beaded cold on my skin, but I forced a smile their way. Seeing me look unharmed, they finally shuffled closer, one cautious step at a time.
Before they reached me, I clenched the item in my fist. Crunch. It shattered, fragments scattering into the air.
*Much better.*
Hoo. A sigh slipped out on its own.
Magic stones. Dropped by monsters in all shapes and colors. People used them to restore stamina, and they served as versatile energy sources everywhere else.
“You okay? Really?”
Mom rushed up and seized my shoulders. I played it off like nothing happened.
“Totally fine.”
“Fine my foot! Earlier—”
Flinch. Her hands trembled. Her eyes frantically scanned me.
“Clearly…”
“Told you, fine. Got startled, that’s all.”
“Startled…”
“Really just startled? No injuries anywhere?”
Mom went quiet, so Dad chimed in. Same answer.
“Totally fine.”
I threw both hands up to prove it. Still, their worried gazes lingered. They wore heavy, troubled expressions before Dad finally spoke.
“…Ji-eon-ah, what if—”
“If it’s about being a hunter, I’m in.”
“You just graduated. You’ll find a job soon. No need to—”
“You know hunters make bank, Mom.”
“We don’t need the money. No need for something dangerous.”
“Call it filial piety.”
“Filial what? Just stay safe…”
They caught themselves overheating and trailed off, clearing their throats.
Parents trying to talk me out of hunting was straightforward.
*If I had memories back then, I’d have been more careful.*
All born from my brother, who’d become a hunter before me. Back in the early gate days, he was always banged up.
Hunter fatality rates had plummeted since then. Magic stones, items, dungeon byproducts—they raked in serious cash now. But it was still life-on-the-line money. No parent wants their kid picking a job that close to death. Hunters stood at the gates’ front lines, facing monsters head-on. Worry was inevitable.
Yeah, just like my parents now. They didn’t want me following my brother into it. Natural for parents to fret over a kid chasing that path.
No comeback from me here. They were right. Hunting was dangerous. Brother had stacked enough cash already—no need for more.
But I had to do it. That path was my life, etched through endless loops. It was all I had. As long as these memories stuck.
So the only thing I could tell them:
“…It’s okay.”
I gave a soft smile.
“I’m not like my brother.”
I clasped their hands together.
“I won’t worry you.”
The usual promise. The one I always made.
“So don’t worry. You know me—I’m great at looking after myself.”
The one I always broke.
“…Okay.”
And the one I’d probably break again.
My smile eased their tension a fraction. They relented, helpless. It didn’t sit right with me, but what could I do? My fate was sealed.
*That’s settled. Next up—*
Screech. A black car pulled up behind them. Neatly dressed people stepped out, assessed the scene, spotted us, and strode over.
“Seoul Hunter Association. Deeply sorry for the delay.”
“Association?”
Their eyes turned icy at the word.
“If people had died from your tardiness, would ‘sorry’ cut it then?”
“Our apologies.”
“Apologies don’t fix your slowness causing—”
Mom’s anger probably stemmed from me manifesting my pattern amid the monster swarm. Patterns usually triggered randomly, though rumors pegged it to “life-or-death moments.” Truth was, more folks awakened mid-meal.
“Mom? Dad? Let’s calm down…”
“Calm? We almost died, and you want calm? Why are you so damn soft-hearted!”
Yeah, better to vent anger than bottle it. Still, I pulled them away from the association folks to cool off.
“Let’s talk it out over there first…”
“I’m about to burst!”
Naturally, the tirade lasted a good ten minutes before I separated them.
“…”
“Our deepest apologies.”
“No, it’s fine. Like my parents said, I manifested my pattern, so…”
“…You manifested a pattern?”
“Yeah.”
“You handled all these monsters solo?”
“Uh… yeah. That a problem?”
“No, not at all, but…”
The association members exchanged glances. One spoke up.
“Well, if it’s fresh, you haven’t reported it yet. If you’d like, we can escort you to the association.”
“Eh, no need to bother…”
“It’s the least we can do as thanks. Not much recompense for handling our job, but please see it as proper courtesy.”
“…In that case, sure. I’ll let my parents know.”
I told them I’d head out with the association group. They fumed, sighed, and okayed it—they knew pattern registration was mandatory, so quicker the better.
They insisted on tagging along with killer glares, hating the idea. Made me uncomfortable, so I smoothed it over somehow.
*They’re working this hard to sell it. Gotta give ’em this much.*
I smiled and rejoined the association guy. He smiled back, ushering me to the car. I climbed in quietly.
From there, I stayed silent, gazing at the blurring scenery outside. They chattered on—association’s great, quasi-governmental status, that sort of pitch.
*Pathetic, these days.*
Simple reason they hawked the association’s perks so desperately: they were hurting for manpower.