The Regressor Agonizes (5)
The Regressor Agonizes (5)
My studio apartment, after parting ways with Kang Chan.
"What do you want to do?"
That was the first thing Choi Ji-won said after hearing Dok Su-hee's story through to the end.
"For now... honestly, I don't have a good impression of this Dok Su-hee. A high schooler is old enough. Even back then, the good kids were good, and the rotten ones were rotten."
Now twenty—soon to be twenty-one once the year turned—Choi Ji-won declared with absolute certainty that Dok Su-hee was a lost cause. To Ji-won, Dok Su-hee must feel like a younger kid, so there was no need to go easy on her.
"But... I believe people can change. No, people change more easily than you think. With the right catalyst, anyone can change. Dok Su-hee might be one of those cases."
Still, this was Choi Ji-won. Even as she showed her clear disapproval, she wrapped Dok Su-hee in a protective layer.
"I want you to do what you want. Whether you accept her as a comrade, ignore her, or... neutralize her."
"I have no intention of accepting her as a comrade."
I had to nail down at least that much. I had no plan to take Dok Su-hee in as a comrade. At least not right now.
The emotions I felt toward her were far from positive. The same was true for Dok Su-hee. The feelings she harbored toward me were twisted somewhere deep inside.
"It probably wouldn't do my mental state any favors either."
And I believe that being 'comrades' means being able to influence each other for the better. The way Ji-won and I do now.
So, accept Dok Su-hee as a comrade? I don't know her that well, but... the odds are high that we'd drag each other into ruin.
Unless it's truly, truly unavoidable, I will never regress alongside Dok Su-hee.
So naturally, recruiting her is out. But just leaving her alone doesn't sit right with me either... and there's no clean way to neutralize her. I could use the ring Archangel Raphael gave me on Floor 2 to neutralize her, but that's my last resort.
Kill her. Or talk some sense into her and let her go. It's one or the other.
"..."
That's not the only choice I have to make. I also need to decide exactly when to regress.
As long as I stay in the real world from now on, the odds of me accidentally regressing have basically vanished. Unless a monster on par with an American dragon suddenly appears outside my door, or a thug breaks in demanding elixirs, I won't regress. That means I have to choose the moment of my regression deliberately.
But when exactly? How? Do I have to part with Ji-won again? What about Dok Su-hee? What about everyone else?
It's agonizing. The sheer fact that I have to make these momentous decisions one after another is agony. I'm not a superhuman like Choi Ji-won; these situations weigh on me.
My body had grown unimaginably strong, and my mind had hardened too, but... deep down, I still feel like a small-time nobody. Even though I know I have to choose, I can't help wishing someone else would decide for me.
How naive I was, talking about being a hero back in the Tutorial. Real heroes are the greats who repeat these kinds of choices countless times and still reach a happy ending.
"..."
The variable of 'emotions' makes trying every possible scenario a burden, and the sheer time cost in opportunity is another factor I have to weigh.
"...You need time to think, right? I'll step out."
"Thanks."
Choi Ji-won casually put on her mask and left the studio apartment. I gave her a grateful nod for her consideration and sank back into my thoughts.
Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep.
"...Uh, Jun-ho?"
But Ji-won, who had just stepped out, came right back in less than a minute.
"Hold on... I think you need to see this."
She handed me her phone. It read, in English:
- Choi Ji-won. Can you possibly contact Kim Jun-ho?
"Who is it?"
"Michael Jeter."
I scrolled down. Michael Jeter's purpose became clear.
- The Saint wishes to meet you. I would also like to see you all while you're here. Could you come to the United States? It is a fairly urgent situation.
"...The Saint?"
At this point in time... there was only one person who would be called the Saint.
William Smith.
The world's greatest healer, whom I met on Floor 4. The man who commands the most expensive time on earth. The Saint every patient dreams of seeing.
"...He wants to see me?"
He was looking for me.
**
My first experience with long-distance teleportation was... surprisingly uneventful. I simply went to the location William Smith had designated, stood still and waited, and before I knew it the taste of the air had changed.
There was no sudden dizziness or nausea like in fiction. Or maybe I'm just built for it?
"See you later, Jun-ho."
We sent Dok Su-hee on her way after she teleported with us because Michael Jeter had called for her—she was probably one of the players Jeter sponsored—and then Ji-won and I headed toward downtown California.
A stark white building screamed condensed opulence. The building I could see in the distance was the hospital constructed for a single man: William Smith. More precisely, you could call it a patient waiting center.
But the closer we got to the building, the more Ji-won's face and mine twisted. Because the building looked less like a hospital and more like the origin point of a zombie outbreak.
"Open up! I said open up!"
"Save me, please save me..."
Everyone surrounding the white building was a patient, all wearing hospital gowns, covered in bandages, hooked up to IVs, and leaning on canes. In short: people on the brink of death, screaming with every last ounce of strength they had.
"There's no hope anywhere but here! The doctors told me to just spend my remaining days comfortably! Please, please save me!"
"I came from China... I'll give you money... Please save my son..."
"My mother... I can't let my mother die without seeing me get married... I'm begging you... Saint..."
"My wife..."
"My husband..."
"My daughter..."
The weak, bearing countless stories, cried out for help, but the front door of the white building remained firmly shut, showing no sign of opening. Even the rough-looking men blocking the entrance radiated mana. Were they using players as security?
"..."
"..."
We stood there dazed, overwhelmed by the living hell that had descended upon the human world. Then I felt a presence approaching from behind. A man in a red checkered shirt and jeans looked like a typical country bumpkin, but his eyes were anything but ordinary and I could feel mana radiating from his body. Was he a player too?
"Are you Jun-ho and Ji-won?"
"...Yes."
"This way, please. The front entrance is inaccessible."
The man naturally led us to a spot about a block away. He walked straight into an ordinary-looking bakery, lifted a kitchen tile, and a hidden passage leading underground revealed itself. He descended first, and Ji-won and I followed.
"Who are you?"
"I am an agent of the Player Association... and someone who is indebted to the Saint."
The man introduced himself as an agent as he led the way through the secret passage. He kept his right hand constantly busy as he walked. When I coated my eyes with mana, I could see he was disarming magic traps. And to a ridiculous degree—the place was decked out with items.
"We've arrived."
Before I could ask anything else, the agent announced we were there. After we climbed a ladder and navigated the labyrinthine building, the man stopped abruptly in front of a door.
"...Please, I beg you. Please treat him well."
He opened the door and stepped aside. Choi Ji-won took a step back, clearly not intending to come inside. William Smith had asked for me.
"..."
I steeled myself and strode through the door.
"You're here."
William Smith, who had been staring blankly into space from his chair, saw me and gave a faint smile.
"...My God."
Was that really the William Smith I knew?
The middle-aged white man looked... far older than I remembered. Only a year had passed, but he looked like he had aged ten years.
He had more wrinkles and his skin had gone dull, but... more than anything, there was no light in his eyes. He looked no different from the patients camped outside.
"Would you like a potion?"
"It won't help. I'm practically drinking the stuff like water."
William Smith lifted a mug slightly. It really did contain a potion.
"If you'll excuse me... may I get straight to the point?"
"Ah, yes."
"The reason I looked for you, Jun-ho... Ah, I heard your name from the Association. In any case, I sought you out because... I am in desperate need of advice."
William Smith spoke as he rubbed a hand over his chapped lips.
"Seeing you on Floor 4 gave me tremendous motivation. The reason you stepped forward to save others... The sight of your back radiated a quiet certainty: 'Because you can.'"
So William Smith had done the same. He had used the ability he gained to save people with all his heart.
In the process, this massive building was constructed, and the number of people indebted to William Smith had become countless.
William could say with confidence even before God: I did the best I could.
But recently, while healing the patients whose numbers had exploded due to monster attacks... he had hit his limit. Not a mental limit, but a physical one.
His body... was screaming.
He could push further. But every time he used his healing ability, pain stabbed through his nerve endings, and the sensation of his body breaking down became unmistakably clear.
He could do it. It was possible.
But... it was so painful. Agonizing. He didn't want to do it anymore.
"Is it a sin to not do something you can do?"
William Smith spoke as he used one trembling hand to steady the other.
"Where... should I compromise? How long must I keep going? I obtained the power to save people in this world, but my body cannot endure it. If I give up here, will God be disappointed in me?"
He was... exhausted. His once-firm resolve had already burned out.
"I am desperate for your advice. You, who always strode forward as if you knew everything... I thought you would give me advice like rain in a drought."
"..."
"What... should I do?"
It is a pity for William Smith, who gazed at me with earnest eyes, but—
"..."
I... was tormented by the exact same dilemma.