The Regressor Deceives (6)
The Regressor Deceives (6)
The Skeleton Murderer's body could not be found. The entire battlefield where the fight took place had been reduced to ash. There was no way to tell whether it was a human corpse or the remains of some wild animal unlucky enough to get caught in the chaos.
"...He's dead. Definitely. My attacks weren't landing, so I unleashed lightning across the whole area, and that killed him."
But with the person who fought him vouching for his death, no one doubted it. Anyone who had witnessed that 'divine punishment' firsthand would never question whether anything could have survived it.
"So it's finally over."
"Hoo. Now we can breathe a little easier."
"The beer—isn't the beer done aging?"
The dwarves were overjoyed. Ever since that first murder, the mental strain had been severe, and now it looked like everything had been settled once and for all.
"It hasn't been long since the funeral, so we can't celebrate too extravagantly... but surely we ought to raise a modest toast. Bring out the beer and meat. Tonight, we eat and drink."
Dwarves are a race that works hard, but they also play hard. Carving out several large tables on the spot, they prepared plenty of cold beer and hot meat, then invited the players over.
"Gale. Yureu. Minael. Kun. Our proud brothers and sisters have departed from us. I know it has been hard on all of you."
"You're right!!!"
"I won't tell you to forget. Bury it. Bury it deep in your hearts, and move forward. That is what our departed brothers and sisters would want, is it not? Now, everyone, raise your glasses. To the family we've lost!"
"To them!!!"
The dwarves gulped down the freshly aged beer. The aging was a touch short, so the barley lacked some of its full flavor, but the mingling of sorrow and hope in their hearts enriched the taste.
"Drink. Drink and forget."
"Meat—is there any more meat?"
One drink, then two—soon the atmosphere grew boisterous. The hearty dwarves roamed about with their mugs, pressing drinks on the players.
"...Why the long face, friend?"
"You people just won—what's with the gloom? Smile, friend."
"...Well, you see."
But every one of the players wore an odd expression. They sipped their drinks and chewed their meat, yet not one of them looked like they were enjoying it.
"Choi Ji-won! You did the most out of anyone—what's the matter?"
"Are you secretly a noble? Or, what, the daughter of a Hero or something? When that lightning went CRACK, I damn near pissed myself!"
"Shouldn't we be putting up a statue or something? I don't know about other humans, but Choi Ji-won? I'll vouch for her."
"...Haha."
Choi Ji-won laughed it off awkwardly. Her lips curved into a smile, but her feelings were deeply complicated.
The reason was nothing dramatic. The 'fight' she had staged with Kim Jun-ho—its finale had left her deeply unsatisfied.
To everyone else, the battle with the Skeleton Murderer must have looked like a ferocious struggle, but the truth was different. The whole thing had been a scripted play.
But even an act could be performed with everything she had. She had done her best to deliberately miss with the lightning, and she had done her best to wrestle her raging mana under control. That was precisely why the dissatisfaction lingered.
"...That was almost a disaster."
That final strike. It was Choi Ji-won's all-out blow, packing every last drop of her remaining mana.
The goal had been to blind and deafen the players, buy Kim Jun-ho time to escape, and test out her own power all at once... but the results were far from satisfying.
Because she had poured in all her mana, that last lightning strike was deafeningly loud, dazzlingly bright, and spread so wide it was impossible to dodge.
But it was all flash. It was simply bigger and wider—the actual force behind it was hardly different from any of the other lightning bolts. An empty cart rattles the loudest, as they say. It might as well have been a blank round, all noise and no punch.
And despite that pathetic power, controlling the mana turned out to be absurdly difficult. She had nearly hit Kim Jun-ho with a lightning bolt and sent him into regression. She'd tried to drop the lightning as close to the fortress as possible to block everyone's view, but her aim had drifted.
She didn't know how others would judge it, but by Choi Ji-won's standards, it was a complete failure.
"...Regression is too much."
But even though she was unhappy with her mana control, regressing was out of the question—the outcome was already optimal, and Choi Ji-won was deliberately avoiding accompanied regression due to personal concerns. She couldn't drag them all back over something this trivial.
Glug, glug, glug!
"Oh, ohhh!"
"That's some good drinking!"
In the end, the only thing she could do was drink as much beer as possible to soothe her frustration. She could hear Boongboong-yi whining in her head, asking why she was drinking that stuff, but she ignored it and emptied her mug.
"Hey! Even Choi Ji-won is drinking—what are the rest of you waiting for?"
"All of you just nibbling at a little piece of meat. What's wrong?"
"..."
The other players watched Choi Ji-won drain her beer while they picked halfheartedly at the meat in front of them. If what Choi Ji-won felt was 'dissatisfaction,' what the others felt was closer to an inferiority complex.
A good trait, outstanding talent, even above-average intelligence—there wasn't a single player here who lacked at least one of those three. (With one exception: a gullible fool who'd been stupidly used.) Everyone here was a frontrunner who had stood out in their own countries.
Floor 11? They hadn't cleared Floor 11 because of the trouble with the dwarves, not because the floor itself was difficult. No, the Tower had never really been a hard place for them to begin with. From Floor 1 to Floor 11, excepting Floor 4, they had cleared everything without much trouble. (No one was reckless enough to pick Floor 3-5.)
Was the Tower too easy? A better way to put it would be that these people were simply too strong. You can't measure the chosen talents of an entire race by the standards of ordinary people.
To sum it up, these were people who had never once felt lacking in ability since entering the Tower. They were overflowing with confidence that they could chew up Floor 11, Floor 21, Floor 66—everything.
"..."
"..."
But... the sight they had witnessed earlier was still stirring up their minds. To use martial arts novel terminology, calling it a heart demon would be fitting.
Players' traits are diverse. Some possess monstrous strength to shatter boulders. Some can spew fire into the air. Some can achieve incredible bursts of speed in an instant.
Players are superhuman. They are people who can warp reality and perform miracles that only existed in imagination.
But... what they had just seen... that had been a natural disaster. It was clearly beyond the realm of human ability.
They were on the same Floor 11. They were fellow players. How could the gap be this enormous? Once that realization set in, no one could bring themselves to drink.
There wasn't a single player here well-versed enough in mana to see through the truth—that it was all empty calories. They were like children gawking at someone holding a giant balloon and marveling at their superhuman strength. And the one person who could have corrected the misunderstanding—Choi Ji-won—was busy drinking beer.
"What's with them?"
"Who knows."
In the end, the celebration party wrapped up in a somewhat gloomy atmosphere...
**
Once the excitement died down,
the players gradually finished preparing to leave.
"We'll give you the passage stones, free of charge. All sorts of goods will be on sale again, too."
"Really?"
"Of course. Are we not comrades who fought side by side?"
"...I should buy another sword."
The players hadn't been idle during the period when the dwarves weren't selling passage stones, so they had plenty of gold. Thanks to that, everyone could stock up on weapons and daily necessities.
Amid all the cheer, Choi Ji-won quietly approached the shopkeeper.
"Oh, Miss Ji-won. What can I do for you?"
"What will you do after we're gone?"
"..."
A truth everyone was trying hard to ignore. Floor 11 was structurally far too vulnerable.
It was safe now, sure... but there was no guarantee it would stay that way. If another crazed player showed up someday, Floor 11's peace would be shattered in an instant.
"That's..."
Just as the shopkeeper was about to answer.
"Everyone! I—I have... something to confess. I was too terrified to speak up until now. But I think I have to say it, even at this late hour."
A player shouted, raising his hand high. It was a face Choi Ji-won recognized.
"...The first dwarf who died... I think... I'm the one who killed him... I'm truly sorry..."
"...What do you mean?"
"So, the thing is... I ate a mushroom in the forest, and..."
Mason. The man Zhang Lei had tricked and used. Tears streaming down his face, he was confessing his sin.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."
"...Lift your head."
The shopkeeper placed a hand on the sobbing Mason's shoulder.
"I'll need to hear the details to understand fully... but first, calm yourself."
The shopkeeper was no fool.
Judging by his complicated expression, he too seemed to have guessed that Mason wasn't the real culprit.
"And there is a path to atonement."
"...What?"
"Stay here on Floor 11. Stay and protect us. Until your karmic debt is cleared."
And if he felt sorry enough... they could probably accept a little help.
**
The players who had stayed on Floor 11 for a long time spent all the gold they had saved up and cleared Floor 11 with light hearts. Even those who had been too short on gold—and had been forced to stay—found their spark of hope rekindled.
The long conflict had ended, and one by one, they began to leave Floor 11.
In the process, Choi Ji-won somehow received two passage stones, but everyone had their own business to attend to, so it drew little attention. Choi Ji-won would never use them for anything bad.
But in the dim early dawn, a strange thing happened: the Angel assigned to guard the center of the square abruptly left their post. It was dawn, so few people noticed.
Well, Angels have their own reasons for things. They're extremely businesslike when dealing with players. They probably just left the fortress for a bit to handle something.
"Hey, but if the Angel went outside the fortress, can they still process player clears from out there?"
"...Even if they could, why would they bother? It's not like they're on an outing. They've got no reason to go out of their way. Unless someone saved their life or something."
"...Yeah, that's true."
"Let's just sleep. Gotta save up and buy weapons."
Floor 11 had regained its former peace. One crazed murderer, appearing by sheer coincidence, had served as the glue that brought dwarves and players back together.
It felt a little wrong to say it, but it was an incredible stroke of luck.