Losers' Resurrection Battle (2)
After the training in the Tutorial Factory ended, what was the first thing the summoned heroes of this other world had to do?
Without a doubt, it was grasping the concept of "dark fantasy." Up until the tutorial, you could still call it isekai fantasy, but once you crossed over to that side, who knew what horrors awaited. Murder, gang rape, arson, limb amputation, attacks by monsters... all sorts of unspeakable atrocities. That was dark fantasy.
Luckily, I never touched that shit or joined in, but temptations like that popped up constantly. Humans did it too, but the demonkin started it first.
For example.
"Some of you must have been killed by goblins, but originally, that's not how you die."
Like Estiel now, spoiling without spoiling even in the tutorial stage.
"Goblins kill males and rape females."
Originally, if that forest had been the real other world, the guys taken by goblins would've ended up as food, and the women as breeding stock for goblin spawn.
Ah. 'Though it's not like males always just become food.' Some guys who catch a goblin's fancy could end up as sex slaves too.
Estiel probably wasn't getting into those specifics, just speaking generally in hopes that these 20 first-round dropouts would seriously consider their choices.
"R-Rape...?"
"You mean... they rape women...?"
The guys were ready to risk their lives just to avoid being eaten, but the women were more sensitive to the threat of rape. It wasn't a universal reaction. Everyone summoned here had already died once. At this point, it wasn't about dying or not—it was about how you died.
"Yes, that's correct. We adjusted the tutorial settings to prevent that. If goblin gang rapes happened from the first stage, too many would give up."
"H-Hiiik...!"
"Why... why are you doing this to us!!"
Screams erupted from the women, laced with defiance.
"We died once already, and now you're telling us to fight knowing we could get raped by goblins?!"
"You signed the contract, didn't you?"
"This is fraud! Outright fraud!! If we'd known about risks like that, we never would've—!"
They latched onto the contract, pointing out what they hadn't been told, but no one got any further.
"I understand. It's unfair that we withheld some information during the contract process. But we're at war with the Demon King's army right now, and we can't afford to delay sending even one more capable hero to the front lines."
Estiel's bureaucratic tone poured out like a waterfall.
"But from what I know, similar things happen in your world too. Of course, since you lived far from such places, it might not hit home. However, among previous summonings, there were detectives who chased down those crimes... and actual criminals too."
"Wh-What...?"
"The more I talk, the more it seems like I'm planting seeds of doubt, but out of your 108, there might be rapists or murderers. That's just how it is."
She sounded like a welfare office clerk at the public service desk, playing a pre-recorded script from memory.
"It's just more frequent here because of the demonkin. Think of it as war crimes during wartime."
"W-Wait a second! Angel! So you're saying... you're applying that kind of environment to us?!"
"Yes."
Estiel nodded curtly. Her eyes clearly said what I already knew from our talks: no arguments.
"From now on, you'll be sent to the underground arena. It's a real slave gladiator pit from the world you're about to be summoned to—a place that operated in the past."
"Th-This is insane...! A slave arena...?"
"Yes. To make it simple for you... it was a place where orcs showed off by fighting human slaves or straight-up raping them in front of everyone."
"Nooooooo!!"
One female dropout clawed at her hair, tears streaming down.
"I don't wanna end up like thaaat!!"
"Then survive. I—and all us angels—hope you'll overcome this and fight the demonkin to victory."
"If that's the case, you don't need to go that far!"
A male dropout stood, trying to negotiate.
"Just make it show 'LOSE' on defeat and pull us out...!"
"I'm a bit Spartan about this."
"You...!"
"We gathered you here to inform you, not convince you."
Estiel's attitude was downright coercive. To some eyes, it looked like she was abusing her angelic authority to force these trainee heroes into brutal horror for her own amusement—a psychopathic tutorial angel getting off on mortals being ravaged by demonkin.
Estiel wasn't like that, but she wasn't shying away from words that could spark that misunderstanding.
'She's gonna regret this later.'
Tutorial angels were usually kind to factory heroes. Every shipped-out hero was their performance metric, after all. Even without direct contracts, they needed to impress during the tutorial—like putting a bank app referrer's name as "Agent OOO."
Estiel wasn't playing that game at all, which would make anyone who knew tutorials tilt their head. And I, who knew the full story, understood why she was setting up this extreme losers' revival.
'It's partly for me, and she trusts me to handle it.'
A gamble. Not all-in, but sacrificing 19 first-round losers for one SSR-grade hero? No different from mobile games. Grind 19 three-stars for one five-star, and nine out of ten pick the five-star.
"...I have a question, Angel."
Amid the panic, the one woman still calm raised her hand quietly.
"What if we refuse?"
"Refuse? You mean reject the tutorial?"
"Yes. Specifically, if we give up."
"Then the contract ends."
She might've been thinking "fuck it," but angels looked soft-faced for a reason—they weren't pushovers.
"We saved you from death. If you break the contract, we have no choice but to return you to the state before it was made."
"That means—"
"Australia-side."
Guessing she'd keep prodding, I cleared my throat loudly and spoke up.
"You've seen those short videos where people call to catch a snake in the house, right?"
"That's—"
"The homeowner refused to pay 150,000 won for just one snake, so the catcher took it out of the bag and put it right back where he found it."
"......."
"Comparing human death and souls to a house snake is a stretch, but it's pretty much the same thing."
"An amusing analogy."
Estiel chuckled lowly.
"Anyone who wants to break the contract, speak now. We won't force you to uphold it except when defeating demonkin."
"Ugh...."
"Then we'll send you straight to the venue for the losers' revival: Chekhov's Arena."
As if no more talk was needed, Estiel reached out, and one by one, bodies began vanishing in flashes of light. From the back: number 20 down to 1. Our eyes met as mine came up.
—Good luck.
No words, but I read it clear in her gaze. This wasn't the planned stage—it was harsher, changed for me on purpose.
'Gotta live up to expectations.'
If she'd thrown me into my ideal setup, I'd repay it in kind.
Weeeeng.
After sending all 20 hero candidates to the revival stage,
Saaahhh.
Estiel clasped her hands quietly, and a white light bloomed before her.
"Seventh-rank angel, Estiel."
The one who appeared calling her name was a black-haired angel far taller than Estiel. A clear halo shimmered above her head, and two pairs of wings fluttered behind.
"Yes, Chief Administrator Nariel."
"I came because the records show you applied Chekhov's Arena to the factory. What's going on? Did you authorize this?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I believed it was the fastest, surest way to make stronger heroes."
"Hmph... tsk."
Nariel scanned Estiel up and down, clicking her tongue briefly.
"Well, give it your best. You're the star from tutorial angel training, so you must have your reasons. So, the proposal?"
"Sorry. I didn't prepare one."
"Fine. Submit a written apology by tomorrow."
"......."
"Young angels these days... They don't even know why we stripped all dangers from tutorials... tsk tsk."
Paaat.
Before Estiel could say more, the chief fluttered her feathers and vanished.
"......."
Estiel picked up a stray feather, smiling faintly.
"......Heh, hehehe."
A status window popped up.
"Once I become an upper-rank angel, then I'll summon that guy and... huu."
Watching the 20 men and women in ragged prisoner garb being herded into an underground cell via the screen, Estiel clenched her fist—feather and all.
"Please deliver good results. Um, that...."
Her eyes on the young man marked '2' on his prisoner uniform, fingers twitching briefly.
"...Partner."