Terraforming
“Your name?”
“Park Chanyoung.”
“Nationality?”
“Korean.”
“Age?”
All 100 of us went through a simple questionnaire. Of course, some refused to cooperate, ranting about kidnappings and such. But the group that had come for us forced answers out of us, promising they'd resolve all our questions once we complied. What choice did we have? People just answered as asked. The questions weren't anything too personal anyway, so most went along without a fuss.
“Anyone under 15 or over 50, please follow me!”
“Those with civil engineering or architecture certifications!”
“Any doctors, nurses, or medical professionals? Med students or vets count too. Speak up now, and we'll make it worth your while! No pressure...”
“Ah! I'm a doctor!”
Two doctors who spoke up were escorted away from the rest of us under guard. Lucky bastards. They'd probably live the sweet life from here on out. Damn it, doctors get treated like kings no matter where you go...
“Any jobs? If you're a college student, what's your major or certifications?”
Ah... If I lied here and pretended to be some specialist, I could skip all the hard labor...
Get assigned to the combat division.
Reward: 50 Karma
Failure Penalty: Restart from the beginning.
My first quest popped up. No room for tricks, huh... Fine by me. My goal is to finish this novel. A fantasy story cleared without a single fight scene? Possible, maybe, but it'd be a hell of a grind. Better to tough it out, build up my combat power, and get it over with. This is just one novel to clear— I need real strength, and fast. Sure, the risk of death is huge... but for someone who can't stay dead, it's no big deal.
I shook my head at the man's question.
“College student. Philosophy major.”
“Ah... philosophy...”
Suddenly, the guy in front of me looks at me with pity. Yeah, sorry I'm such a useless humanities major. But for getting into combat division, arts majors are the best bet— lowest demand. I'm not actually philosophy, but it's the least useful major around here, so that's what I said.
Then the man sizes me up from head to toe and starts asking different questions from the others.
“Um... excuse me, but any congenital illnesses or disabilities? Like fluid buildup in your abdomen or... your build seems a bit...”
“...Perfectly healthy body, no disabilities.”
“Hmm...”
The man eyes my obese frame suspiciously. If I play up being unhealthy here, the quest fails for sure! I've gotta get into combat division somehow. Shit... why am I doing this? It's like I'm dying to suffer...
“Look, between you and me, if you're not feeling great, it's better to be honest. You'll have a real tough time physically like this.”
“My hobby's working out. I'm confident in my mobility.”
“...Pardon? With that body? Ah, sorry. That was rude of me.”
Grateful for the concern from a total stranger, but I had to turn it down through gritted teeth. Deep down, I wanted to rattle off some congenital disorder or gigantism bullshit to bail. Who'd welcome flirting with death, even if you respawn?
“Ugh... if you're insisting, nothing I can do. See that big bald guy over there? Head his way. Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
“...Must be disorienting, but you're handling it calmly. Everyone else is losing their shit... Refreshing to see. That mindset'll carry you far.”
The man nods toward the crowd, giving me an impressed look. He's right— others are snapping back with anxiety and complaints. But his reaction surprises me more. Yeah, I'm calmer than most since I knew this was coming. Natural Healing helped too.
But I wasn't acting that exceptionally...
I've been keeping a low profile on purpose. Even that ridiculously handsome protagonist way over there seems way more composed than me.
Hmm... Probably the contrast. My spiteful-looking mug paired with careful moves must stand out. First perk of this ugly body I've noticed. Not sure it's really a perk, though.
I headed toward the bald guy as directed. About 50 people were already gathered there.
“Looks like assignments are wrapping up.”
Familiar voice. The deep, booming one that rounded us up at the start belonged to this bald man. So he's one of the key supporting characters I'd see daily... Where's the other one?
“Ahem! I know you've got questions. I'll explain everything step by step...”
“Where the hell are we?!”
“Let me go! I'm not important enough to kidnap!”
“What's the goal? Ransom? Terrorist nation-state bullshit?”
The murmurs swelled.
“Everyone? Everyone? Calm down and hear me out...”
The second the man finished, pent-up panic erupted in a barrage of shouts. Nearly 50 voices yelling at once turned the place into chaos.
That's when it happened. A woman shoved the flustered bald guy aside and appeared. Out of thin air, like Baby Angel popping in.
“Ah! Fuck off! You always drag this shit out? Think they'll believe you just talking? Huh?”
“...Hey, you said explanations were yours...”
“Look at you. You want me exploding and dying inside? How long till you finish yapping and we move? Overtime on day one?”
“...Haa... Guess it always ends like this.”
“If you're pissed, do it right yourself. I hate this shit too, fuck. Hey! You worthless shits! Nice to meet ya! This slow-ass fucker's Brack. Me and him are your instructors from now on— memorize it!”
Her voice boomed like his, magnetic enough to grab attention. Me and the regressed protagonist knew it was mana-laced. Upturned lips on a playful beauty, faint freckles, sunset-red bob, navel and thighs on full display in that grateful outfit... Matched the novel perfectly. The star output of this story, Gwangnyeon-i, makes her entrance.
“Got a real name, but I get called bitch, crazy slut, psycho cunt more often! Fun fact: my fave nickname's Gwangnyeon-i! Cute, right? Hehe!”
I muttered status window under my breath so no one heard, to check her stats. Gotta know the details on the second-most dangerous figure after the protagonist.
>Name: Chris Bennett
>Job: Instructor
>Strength: 31
>Agility: 45
>Vitality: 33
>Intelligence: 35
>Technique: 39
>Charm: 49
>Trait:Compassion
The novel never gave her real name— always "crazy bitch" or "Gwangnyeon-i." So her actual name felt foreign to me. But screw that— I spotted something huge.
She has a trait!
Compassion?No way it's maternal love. Gotta be self-preservation, 100%. Her showering love on others? Laughable. Damn.... how much does she love herself to manifest Compassion as a trait? Knew it going in, but this narcissism hits different.
Trait aside, Gwangnyeon-i's stats dwarfed my below-average ones and everyone else's normals. Even without stats, the healed scars across her exposed skin screamed veteran. Especially those neck wounds— what the hell leaves that many on a vital spot?
“Wh-what... where'd she come from...”
“More importantly! Where are we? Answer!”
“What's the point?!”
Stunned by her sudden appearance, people turned the questions on her like they did Brack. But Gwangnyeon-i... ignored them all and just did her thing.
You idiots yap. I'll handle mine. That's the vibe. Unconventional, but efficient. Her mana made sure the words stuck in ears, noise or no.
“This ain't Earth. It's a super fantasy world. Know Lord of the Rings? Like that. Orcs, elves, monsters... Haven't seen elves, but the other two? Check.”
“What...?”
Everyone stared like she was nuts. But her next antics hardened their faces.
“Mages too. Magic, obviously.”
Fwoosh!
Fire bloomed in her palm. Not a flicker— basketball-sized blaze.
“What! M-magic trick...?”
“Magic, dipshit. Magic! And strength? Through the roof.”
Bam!
She moved fast enough to barely track, smashing a rock barehanded. It shattered to dust.
“What the...”
“Oh, and... look around. All races mixed, right? But we understand each other? Wild, huh?”
“Huh?!”
“What I'm saying now... not English! Wh-what language? How?!”
“Last but not least... gift!”
Flap flap!Screech!Screeeeech!
Gwangnyeon-i yanked a bird from thin air and chucked it. Unnaturally so. Calf-sized, tiny wings compared to its body. Like a radiation-mutated chicken. Knew it was coming, but seeing it? Shock. I felt disoriented too, but Natural Healing settled me quick.
“This thing's got some bullshit 7-letter name I forgot. We call it chicken.”
“Eek!”
“Wh-what is that?!”
“Only critter we've domesticated here... animal? Anyway, makes up most of our food. Oh, bites off fingers— watch it.”
People scattered farther from the thrashing bird.
“...Proper name's 'Ketlleptomaquseps' or whatever. Not 7, 8 letters.”
“Ah! Yeah! Magusex! Still cracks me up. Right?”
“Haa... talk like a civilized person, please...”
Bald Brack chimed in beside her. Anyway, the kettle... whatever plopped right in our midst. Perfect view for all. Chaos as everyone backed off the "chicken," naturally.
“Alright, slowpokes who think it's hidden cams, robots, gene experiments— all staged. Raise hands.”
“Y-you think I'll buy that?! Don't know how you're speaking this weird shit, but you're all insane! Drugs! Hallucinogens! What'd you do to me?!”
The speaker: middle-aged East Asian guy. Classic novel fodder— the thug who mouths off at the tutorial fairy and dies. This guy's that role. I foresaw what was coming and tsked inwardly. No urge to intervene. His bad for lacking sense. Drawing her ire? Nightmare fuel. Only the protagonist survives that unscathed.
“You fucking bitch! Damn slut! Let me out! Think I haven't seen trash like you? Dressed like that, you'll spread for pocket change...”
Thwack!
“Guh...!”
“Listen up. Here, flap your gums wrong, you get smacked. Got it? Why, you fuck? Go cry to inter-dimensional cops.”
“You... you bitch! Think I'll just...”
Whoosh! Thud!
“Loosen up already? Can't read the room, huh. Fine. You'll learn the hard way.”
“Aaaagh! Arm! My arm's breaking! I get it, let go...!”
Thud! Thwack! Thud!
“Gahk... st-stop...”
“Damn, kid's tough. Still not submitting? Think this is Earth?”
“N-no... Agh! No...! Aaaah...!”
Her fist drilled clean into his solar plexus. He curled up defensively, but she picked vitals like a pro. No one intervened. Everyone froze at the unrestrained violence.
Thwack! Thwaaack! Crack?!
Punches and kicks ramped up. Hard enough to worry about real damage. No one thought it was staged.
The guy balled up like an armadillo to block. Novel timing— protagonist steps in now.
“That's enough. Call it.”
“Who the fuck're you?”
Whoosh! Thud!
Mid-punch, protagonist spoke from behind. True to form, Gwangnyeon-i didn't check who— whipped a picture-perfect back kick at his gut. But he caught her ankle with one hand.
Regressor indeed... Stats reset, but combat sense lingers.
“Hah, you blocked that?”
“Everyone gets it's real now. No need for more fists, right?”
Handsome face, tall frame— total contrast to me. Stepping up so coolly? Pure protagonist. His entrance shifted the vibe alone.
Shit... I had that height and face till recently...
Quick spoiler on what's next: Gwangnyeon-i turns to check the cocky rookie's face and takes a shine to him. Not for skill, kindness, or guts. Just handsome. Reminds her of an ex— babies him whole training. Why protagonist's safe from her wrath. He freaks: 'Huh? This ain't how it went before.' Classic innocent contrast to his usual calm. Pre-regression, no such ex-similarity flirty mishap. Novel dropped before explaining.
“Fine, let's see what pumped-up punk blocked my kick.”
I could guess her next line. Something like, 'Nice face skin. Looks like my ex. Wanna sneak off for a kiss?' Burned those dialogues into my brain pre-entry.
Gwangnyeon-i slowly turned to the protagonist's face.
Her expression crumpled.
“Cheeky little shit. Banking on that pretty face? Think I give a fuck?”
“...”
“...The hell? Posing? Wanna go? Fuck, I must look like total chump bait.”
Right. The smitten Gwangnyeon-i who... wait, what?
“I'll crush you myself. Brack! Saw that? He started it!”
“...Go easy. Not too far.”
“Easy my ass, fucker. Hey, you like congee?”
“Why ask that suddenly?”
“'Cause your teeth'll be smashed, and that's all you'll eat from now on, punk.”
'Huh? This ain't the novel flow...'
