WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS
Translator/Editor: Ryuu
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
DAMNED 13TH REGRESSION
Chapter 11: The Groundwork
He was dying.
In a corner of the village, leaning against a wall, lay a hunter.
He was a hunter who had been severely injured since being summoned to Babel.
Unable to move, hunting monsters was impossible for him, let alone finding food or water.
But that wasn't all.
‘…. I’m sorry.’
‘What’s there to be sorry about! Let’s quickly strip him of everything. While the others aren’t looking.’
Unable to resist, he was stripped of his equipment.
The only reason he was still clinging to life in such a helpless state was due to the rule that murder was not allowed within the village.
His endurance was high, but starving with a fatal wound was naturally a direct path to death.
Before coming to Babel, he had fought believing in the justice of the world.
For the independence of his country, for values he believed to be right, to save people.
‘The world still has values worth protecting.’
He kept telling himself that and continued to fight.
But his end was a lonely death in a corner of the village, abandoned and robbed of everything.
He understood, in a way. Babel's environment was too harsh to believe in human conscience or inner goodness. While he thought it was futile, he calmly accepted his death.
That's when it happened.
“Hey, aren’t you the one who was hurt when you first arrived? I think you were here that time too.”
A beautiful woman appeared before him, checking on him.
‘What have you come to take?’
He refrained from speaking, his judgment clouded by hunger and injury, but the woman in front of him was clearly concerned about him.
“Wayfarer, go on your way. Don’t look back at a dead man like me, keep your eyes open and look forward.”
“Why are you saying that? Come on, lift your head.”
Cold water slowly trickled into his mouth.
“Aaack! What’s with this wound? Are those your insides showing?”
“Ah, the smell of decay. How could people leave someone like this?”
It was actually the smell of feces and urine. Unable to move, it was impossible for him to manage his own bodily functions.
Ashamed, he tightly closed his eyes.
“If only I had some porridge for the patient. What to do. Oppa told me to hide my powers.”
The woman seemed to ponder something, sighed 'Ah,' and left.
‘She’s gone.’
It was pointless. Even if his life was momentarily extended, he had no strength left to live.
Still, he felt at ease.
‘Indeed. The world still has values worth protecting.’
Even amidst the desperate struggle for survival, there was a woman like her.
The human heart harbors righteous values. Dying with this belief felt somewhat joyful.
Gurgling.
Regardless of his feelings, his body reacted to a certain smell.
The smell of meat.
‘Meat rice balls?’
Next to him, ten rice balls wrapped in an unknown meat with a single flower were laid out.
That's when it happened.
“Hey, you sushi bitch. Who told you to give that bastard food?”
“Not sure why you’re looking for sushi. Borscht, what’s the problem?”
“Didn’t you hear on the first day, сука (bitch)? We decided the coins after that bastard starves are ours! I told you not to touch him!”
“…How amazing of you to come up with such garbage thoughts. It’s an insult to the dish Borscht. Russian trash. Could you shut your mouth in front of me? Filled with trash from head to intestines, you must be teeming with germs.”
“What? Words won’t work with this bitch. Come out, Salaman…."
“Shut up.”
Crackkkk
The Russian man who summoned his avatar was buried in the ground.
“Didn’t I tell you?”
It was the manifestation of the skill coin ‘Telekinesis’ that Ha Yeon-si had acquired during hunting.
“Hey, bitch… what's your name.”
“Ha Yeon-si. If you come looking later, someone scarier will recycle you. Don’t come.”
Ha Yeon-si had disappeared by the time the Russian man managed to stand up. Fuming, he approached the hunter.
“Don’t eat it, you moron!”
He crushed the rice balls into the ground.
“блин (Damn), if it weren’t for the supply division, I’d have made sure that bitch and the others couldn’t have kids. Ptoo!”
The Russian spat on the remains of the rice balls and left the village, cursing.
The hunter watched blankly, then looked where the rice balls had been. They were already half-crushed into the ground.
He scooped them up and brought them to his mouth.
Chewing, he scraped off the sticky saliva with his hands. He shoved the five servings of rice balls, now half dirt, half dough, down his throat.
With his face dirtied by mud instead of rice, he murmured quietly.
“I have… eaten well.”
And when he took out the flesh-colored flower hidden from the Russian, Ha Yeon-si’s flower shone.
Igor Bashmakov, the Russian hunter who was fifth in the rankings, shook off the dirt as he emerged into the forest outside the village.
“Hey, Jacob! After this dungeon trip, we need to step on those village brats. First day they break the promise, saying ‘It’s not wrong.’ or ‘It was a bit too much.’ These kids are completely crazy.”
Bashmakov, ranting and cursing to himself, felt something was off.
“Hey, Jacob. Did you go for a pee?”
His comrade ‘Jacob’ was supposed to be waiting outside the village, but there was no response.
And there was a strange smell.
‘Could it be the smell of blood? And cigarettes?’
It was the smell of cigarettes Bashmakov had smoked on his first day in Babel. He activated his skill ‘Animalistic Tracking’ to find traces.
Impaled by a spear. Shoulder smashed by a hammer. Stomach stabbed dozens of times with a knife. A thrown axe stuck in the mouth. Right leg sharply severed by a great sword.
There were all wounds on a single corpse.
‘Jacob’ was still warm, laid out on a tree branch as if meant for Bashmakov to find.
“This isn’t the work of just one person.”
It was only the fourth day in Babel. Everyone was still hesitant to kill, but the lower-ranked hunters had made the first move.
Rustle.
“Ah, you’re really here….”
“Salamander! Burn him!”
A lower-ranked hunter familiar to Bashmakov emerged from the bushes. Bashmakov, without hesitation, used Salamander to burn him.
“Aaaah!”
Salamander engulfed the lower-ranked hunter, incinerating him in flames.
‘Outnumbered. There must be more around. I need to attack first to win.’
Not soon after Salamander acted, four hunters jumped out from around.
“Avatar Sonic! Create a vacuum within 20 meters!”
“Calm down, Sonic will slowly vacuum out Salamander’s fire! Even a D class can beat an A class avatar if it’s the right match!”
Bashmakov drew his great sword and shouted.
“Stop messing around, you scrappy avatars! I won’t die like that Yankee Jacob!”
“Jacob? Who’s that….”
The conversation ended there. What followed was a slaughter.
2km away, Gong-hyeok monitored the situation with GM’s radar.
Counting the coins from Jacob’s body, he deeply inhaled the smoke from his beloved Ebonne.
‘It’s time to solidify alliances between the top and lower rankers.’
On the first day, without rankings, assault teams were formed regardless of skill.
Now, four days in, in a single assault team, there are those in the 10th rank and those in the 150th.
While the 10th rank can survive three weeks, the 150th rank dies and dies again.
In a few days, distrust will lead to uncontrollable murders among teammates.
‘Before that, with this incident, top rankers will form teams with top rankers, and lower rankers with lower rankers.’
A strict division, not a vague coexistence. Lower rankers united can't be touched by top rankers. Even a 30th-ranked hunter can be killed by two 100th-ranked hunters together.
But the gap in abilities between the upper and lower ranks will widen further. The strong hunt more monsters together, while the lower rankers try but ultimately can’t overcome the wall.
‘When the lower rankers despair over the insurmountable ranking wall, it would be time to work with the lower-ranking assault teams.’
It will take another week for that time to come. Three days before the village's murder restrictions lift is the next time to lay groundwork.
“Oppa, what are you thinking about all alone?”
“Nothing much. Just thinking about how to save more people.”
“Ah, that! You’re absolutely a genius, Oppa! How did you come up with that?”
“Well. Some in the village must have thought the same. They just didn’t dare to act on it.”
“Honestly, I can’t believe it. A god of time and records.”
“Right, I'm going to collect him.”
Gong-hyeok looked towards the yellowish Egyptian temple ahead.
‘Temple of Thoth[1].’
It was the dungeon where Gong-hyeok’s second avatar resided.
Footnotes:
[1] Thoth was a Moon god. The Moon not only provides light at night, allowing time to still be measured without the Sun, but its phases and prominence gave it a significant importance in early astrology/astronomy. The perceived cycles of the Moon also organized much of Egyptian society's rituals and events, both civil and religious. Consequently, Thoth gradually became seen as a god of wisdom, magic, and the measurement and regulation of events and of time. He was thus said to be the secretary and counselor of the Sun god Ra, and with Ma'at (truth/order) stood next to Ra on the nightly voyage across the sky. Egyptian mythology credits Thoth with the creation of the 365-day calendar as well.
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