Loser's Revival Match (1)
After using my Goddess Points, I opened my eyes in a prison cell.
Of all places, I end up here.
A cell with iron bars. The room was about three pyeong in size—roughly ten square meters. With the bed opposite visible through the central bars and this lumpy thing that barely qualified as a mattress, even a real solitary confinement cell in prison would feel better.
"Hoo."
I steadied my breathing and lay back on the bed. It was only meant for a single day, but lying here felt worse than sleeping on the floor—my back ached from the hardness.
They're telling me to get the hell out quick.
This prison was for the rejects. Sure, everyone who ended up here soon would scream "This is unfair!" but from the Goddess's perspective, they were all just worthless failures.
Tutorial Stage 1 dropouts. Those who couldn't survive 24 hours for whatever reason. This was their cell—a cold reminder to accept their death rationally and push through the second chance and future stages ahead.
It wasn't Estiel's taste, though. As far as I knew, this was just the Factory's standard setup.
"Ugh, huhuhu..."
A sobbing sound came from across the way. A woman weeping pitifully, as if she couldn't fathom why she'd fallen into this hell. Though the bars were dead center and the bed against the wall, blocking her view, I knew about her.
Fuck.
I just got pissed for a moment.
That bitch died before me.
My Goddess Points. If not for her, I'd have gotten an extra one as the "first to die."
What a shame.
A free point had slipped away to her. If she used it wisely, the upcoming stages would be a cakewalk.
But I couldn't tell her how to use it for my benefit.
Everyone in this Factory is sharp-minded.
If I told her, she'd grill me: "How do you know that?" or probe for what perks I'd gotten.
No one's dumb when their life's on the line.
They weren't brainless idiots who'd do anything without question. This Factory selected heroes ruthless enough to survive the otherworld and defeat the Demon King. Naive pushovers got weeded out early or carried the burden to the end.
In short, the kind and innocent got eliminated. Selfishly exploiting others or acting inhumanely? As long as it helped against the Demon King's army and demons, the Goddess and angels turned a blind eye.
No matter what happened in this Factory.
Say, hypothetical murder among trainee heroes. From the Goddess's view, they'd weakened the forces, so punishment was inevitable—with clear penalties.
"Gaaah! Wh-where the fuck is this?!"
Another voice from beyond the bars—the guy who'd shoved me off the cliff to my death.
Estiel hadn't said it, and I wasn't supposed to know, but I could guess why he'd ended up in this reject prison.
"M-my power's back... urk...! M-my arms...!"
From his groans, he'd taken a proper penalty. In the tutorial, stat drops weren't devastating, but likely permanent reductions.
Better to drop from 255 to 123 than 10 to 5, but in tutorial, every point counts.
Probably after killing me, his physical abilities tanked hard. If he was squatting 500kg before, maybe down to 250kg. Then shit hit the fan—ditched as dead weight or overwhelmed by goblins, leading to his death.
Better steer clear to avoid hassle.
Either way, caution was key. Guys like him often blamed me for their penalty, then dug traps in later stages to kill me. Hell, he might rage-quit over some bullshit reason.
"Aaaah!"
"S-survived... ugh, urp—blegh!!"
Voices echoed from beyond the bars, growing one by one. Time had passed.
I listened for familiar ones, but none stuck out.
By sound, about 20 people.
Twenty locked up. I couldn't help but smirk.
Fewer than expected. My Factory batch was more competent than I thought?
In my first playthrough, I hadn't noticed. Not fuzzy memory—just survived without dying, grinding through.
If memories faded, it was from insane post-tutorial battles overshadowing it. Like remembering a tutorial mob in an MMORPG but not later mechanics, while raid bosses' patterns stuck forever.
"H-hey! Anyone know what's going on?!"
"Hyejin unnie! Wh-why are you here?!"
"C-calm down! We need to share info! Damn, any seniors here?!"
"...Looks like sleeping's off the table."
As time passed, people regained composure. The cringey "bonding" phase was incoming—pure trash for current me.
"Hey, hey! Underclassmen! Listen up, bro's gonna—"
First-time deaths, please exit your cells and follow the blue line in the corridor.
Stiff tone. Hard to believe it was the same woman who'd jerked me off earlier.
That's how strict she is with work-life boundaries.
Clank. The bar mechanism unlocked, doors creaking open one by one. A blue line glowed below, as Estiel said.
"Th-this way?"
"Sunbae! You're here too...!"
"Wh-why just us... wait, does that mean everyone here..."
As people emerged, thrilled not to be alone or piecing together the truth from faces—
"Y-you!!"
Familiar voice behind me.
"You bastard...!"
"What the fuck."
Park Chang-su froze mid-charge.
"You kill someone and act casual? You fucker?"
All eyes in the corridor turned to me, but I kept talking.
"I wouldn't have died if you hadn't shoved me off that cliff, you dogshit prick."
"Th-that was—"
Cease at once.
Fighting among trainee heroes inside the Factory is prohibited.
Golden chains shot out, binding mine and Park Chang-su's wrists. The status window popped up with Estiel's face—an announcement visible to all, but her worried eyes fixed on me, like she feared I'd cause trouble.
"...Fuck, I'm watching you."
I relaxed my chained arm, shot Park Chang-su a "you're dead" glare, and walked on.
A muttered "fuck" trailed behind, but I ignored it.
Perfectly split.
The 18 others now knew the grudge between us. From quick glances, three shot Park hate and rage—not direct victims like me, but indirectly screwed: abandoned mid-escape or used as bait.
The rest? Apathetic stares or still terrified. Mostly goblin kills.
Screech.
Following the blue line to the corridor's end led to a university lounge-like hall, Estiel waiting with hands clasped.
Please take your assigned seats.
D1 to D20. What classification bullshit? I headed straight for D2.
"H-hey, that's..."
"There's a nameplate by your cell door."
"Oh, r-right."
Next to me, a black-haired woman in D3.
"H-hello. I'm Kim Chae-rin..."
Friendly by nature or sucking up to survive? Time would tell. Physically, top-tier here—tits rivaling Estiel's.
"...Ahem."
Estiel cleared her throat, drawing eyes.
"First, mute."
Beep. She drew a line in the air; mute icons appeared before our mouths.
"I planned a slow explanation, but last time, some interrupted."
Last time. Without mute, someone would've asked, "What about the others?"
"Where are they? They survived. Cleared Tutorial Stage 1, moved to the next, resting in private rooms."
Snap. Behind her materialized a decent one-room or dorm setup.
"Clear a stage, get this. You're in the 'first death' zone. Want better rest? Clear the next."
We still had two lives left.
"Call it a loser's revival match. Rules are simple: survive the underground arena."
...?
Crazy bitch. No way.
"Be careful. That arena mimics the Demon King's forces in the summoned world. Monsters will ravage you mercilessly. Yes..."
For one-timers, a brutally hard stage.
"You might even get raped by monsters. For example."
"Mmph! Mmph!!"
Some bolted up despite the mute, but I intuited: monsters could rape us, but we could rape them too.
She's playing favorites.
Conditions perfect for me—
Estiel smiled sweetly.
Good is good.
Goddess-side? Just spartan prep. That world was dark fantasy where even heroes got goblin-fucked routinely.