The Regressor Gets in Trouble (2)
The Regressor Gets in Trouble (2)
"So it's basically an Eastern-style world, but..."
This world isn't completely identical to China, but it has a fair number of similarities. The place names are different, the people are different, the nations are different, but the lifestyle and architecture are somewhat similar. There even seems to be an imperial family. So, calling this a 'wuxia-style' world wouldn't feel out of place.
However, the big difference lies in the treatment of 'martial artists.' Why aren't they called members of the Murim? Because there is no Murim.
In this world, martial artists are viewed as social misfits. Psychopaths. Certified nutcases. I heard they get treated harshly, roughly comparable to Jews in medieval Europe. To the point where even a shaggy-haired bandit was looking down on them.
"Those bastards are complete lunatics, I tell you. They pick fights with anyone, challenging them to a life-or-death brawl just to hone their skills... smash everything to bits brawling in inns or people's houses... tear up whole mountains hunting for some damn elixir..."
The shaggy bandit clicked his tongue. Despite prostrating himself with his head pressed to the ground, he still had the energy to mock martial artists, apparently.
"Prisons are overflowing because of those sons of bitches. As if the thieving layabouts weren't bad enough, it's the common folk who end up dead because of those martial bastards."
"What about court-Murim noninterference? Where did that go?"
"...Uh, if you use fancy words, it's a bit hard to understand..."
"You know, that thing where the imperial court and Murim usually agree to stay out of each other's business."
"Aw, why wouldn't they interfere? The imperial court hates those bastards more than anything. At least lowlifes like me let people go if we get paid, but those guys kill people just to practice their skills."
"...Isn't there any pushback from the martial artists?"
"If they push back, what then? Even if they're a bit strong, if the army comes marching, it's the end for three generations of their kin."
The shaggy bandit, who had been pouring out his venom, suddenly turned his head and warily eyed me.
"Um... you aren't a martial artist, are you, sir? Or maybe you know one personally..."
"...No, it's not that."
Seeing him treat martial artists like filthy street cats left me with a complicated feeling.
Was it because this was a world where martial artists were weak? Or was there some factor at play that I didn't know about?
This world was also one destroyed by the Tower. If the people who could be considered the strongest were reduced to this sorry state, it didn't seem so strange.
"Hmm... I see. Thanks."
"No, sir... hehe. I was very rude."
Leaving the bandit rubbing his hands together, I started walking toward the nearest village. (It was a village the shaggy bandit had told me about, and if he was lying, I really might end up killing a man.)
I had to understand this world before I could find the 'Overseer.'
**
A week had passed since I entered Floor 18, since I entered this world.
Life here was... shit. 'Shitty' is the perfect word for it.
First, there are no conveniences whatsoever. You have to do your business in an outhouse, you have to sleep crammed in with countless other travelers, and the food isn't just bland—it makes you gag.
I realized all over again just how blessed life in the real world had been. If I just committed to roughing it in the wilderness, I could at least mentally accept it like, 'Well, I'm homeless~' and get over it. But this place was genuinely... filthy. I miss the temple meals on Floor 16 and the clean temple buildings where I could sleep.
The lack of a clear way to earn money was also a problem. No one wanted to hire a stranger with no connections, no name, and unfamiliar mannerisms. I could get rich quickly by robbing people, but my conscience wouldn't allow it. So I had to do odd jobs to cover my travel expenses.
Also, I didn't run into Choi Ji-won during that time. Honestly, if we're comparing physical abilities, she's stronger than me, and she even has Boongboong-yi, so I'm not really worried. She's a sharp, capable woman to begin with. I trust Choi Ji-won.
"It's disgustingly huge..."
This is why I keep emphasizing the word 'world.' The landmass here is truly, truly enormous. Maybe because it isn't like previous floors where a barrier limited your range of movement, finding a single person here felt like picking a star out of the sky. The chance of stumbling across Choi Ji-won while wandering around seems even lower than the chance of meeting her after I clear the floor.
Of course, the experience wasn't entirely negative. During my travels, I managed to meet one other player.
How did I know he was a player? I knew because he was Western. Everyone here has black hair and yellow skin, so if a Westerner with bright blond hair suddenly appears, you have to assume he's a player.
"Oh! It's my first time seeing another player! Pleased to meet you!"
"How long has it been since you entered?"
"About a month, I think?"
Setting aside the overjoyed Western player, I threw a question at him that I'd been carrying for a while.
"Don't you feel it's unfair?"
"About what?"
"That after all that effort to get stronger, you've been thrown into a weak body like this."
Floor 16 was for honing skills. Floor 17 was for honing mana. Players struggled and struggled to become stronger, and then an angel dumped them into a weak body that can't use any of it.
Sure, it's a sturdier body than an ordinary person's, but it can't compare to a superhuman body... it's basically like they stuck us in the body of an adult who just works out a bit. The amount of mana is ridiculously lacking too. If I were another player, I'd feel seriously, seriously wronged.
"I actually prefer it this way."
"...Excuse me?"
The man gave the exact opposite answer of what I expected.
"I'm saying there's no better place to train your skills than here."
The man let out a breath and launched into an explanation.
"Honestly, even if we want to 'train' back in reality, there isn't really anywhere to do it, right? Trying to build a training ground on Floor 1 only gets you so far. And even if you want to spar with another player, finding a trustworthy one is hard, and it's uncertain if they'll properly hold back their strength."
"...Well, that's true."
"But here, we can fight in an ordinary body against hostile ordinary people. How great is that? The mana pool is incredibly plentiful compared to our physical abilities too, so the intention for us to fight using mana comes through loud and clear."
"...Plentiful? The mana is plentiful?"
"Huh?. It's almost on the same level as my original body."
"...Eh? Oh."
That was when I realized I had been under a massive misconception. Other people don't lack mana even when their physical abilities are fixed.
[Stats]
[Strength:XX] [Agility:XX] [Intelligence:XX] [Health:XX] [Mana: XX]
This is the 'Status Window' of other players. Normal people raise their level by killing monsters and invest the stat points earned from level-ups into their own Status Window. Naturally, most invest in stats that grant immediate benefits like Strength or Agility. Or they might invest a little in 'Health' to increase their combat endurance.
Mana? People with great traits invest in Mana to use their traits more often, but the priority is low. Currently, there are no 'Mages' in the Tower. That kind of frail profession didn't survive Floor 4. If any exist, they'd have to be 'battle mages.'
However, because of all the bizarre exploits I've pulled through regression, my 'Achievement Level' is higher than other people's. According to Choi Ji-won, that has the effect of raising all stats evenly. Meaning I naturally have a much, much larger mana pool than the average player.
"..."
So the mana only feels massively lacking by my standards. For ordinary players, it's fairly abundant. That makes the concept of this floor understandable.
It's meant to be a lesson: experience how strong an ordinary person can become by utilizing the weapon skills learned on Floor 16 and the mana learned on Floor 17. It's meant to let you feel how well your own skills work. Look at that player over there. Isn't he practically ready to bury himself in 'training,' just as the archangels intended?
"Oh, right... I wish you good fortune."
"Yes! Thank you!"
In the end, was the unfair design aimed only at me? I asked this man if he knew anything about the 'Overseer,' but he said he didn't know either.
**
Another week passed.
Two weeks is absurdly short for exploring an entire world, but it's enough time to get somewhat accustomed to it. A fact proven by military boot camp.
This was the nearest major city. I had heard the rumor that a drifter like me, with no ties to anyone, had to come to a big city to find work, so I drifted and drifted my way here. Yesterday, I even managed to complete a job for a wealthy household.
The result was my noticeably heavier coin pouch.
"One plate of gyoza, please."
"...Our inn requires payment upfront, sir."
"Here."
"Got it! One plate of gyoza!"
Maybe it was because my clothes were filthy. I tossed the money to the server who demanded upfront payment and sat down. If this were a wuxia inn, I should be ordering bamboo leaf green wine too, but I didn't have the money. I just had to be content with filling my stomach for now.
Why order gyoza instead of dumplings? Because dumplings here were just lumps of flour with nothing inside. No wonder they were so cheap.
"Here's your gyoza!"
"Thank you."
On the other hand, gyoza are a complete food, filled with a bit of pork and even vegetables. Meaning this one plate covers my carbs, fat, and protein all at once. The taste is hopelessly lacking compared to modern dumplings, but it's still up to an edible standard.
"Heh heh..."
I let out a creepy chuckle and picked up a gyoza with my chopsticks. I didn't just pick up one. I picked up two at once. Look at that glisten. Look at that grease. It had been worth sweating a full six hours to find a lost cat.
My mouth wide open, I was just about to fill it with happiness. That exact moment.
"...Could you spare a single bite, please?"
"...Excuse me?"
"Just one bite..."
A man, just as shabby as me—no, even shabbier—slid into the seat next to me and asked for a gyoza. Judging by his clothes, he wasn't an actual beggar, but he looked like someone well on his way to becoming one.
"...Look here."
This plate of gyoza was earned with my blood and sweat. Whatever compassion I might have had for giving handouts to strange beggars had vanished long ago over these past two weeks.
I was about to flatly refuse, but my words caught in my throat when I saw the man's hands, full of calluses.
This man. He wasn't normal.
"...Is it really a no?"
This man was the first martial artist I had met—
—You have encountered the Overseer.
—and the first Overseer I had met.