WeTried Translations

Translator: Joy

Editor & TLC: ZEROSUGAR

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Damned Transmigration

Chapter 3

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Yuri (2)

“You were right. They’re all dead.”

Gordon, having returned from the Black Snake Gang’s base, wore a face drained of all colour

“The Black Snake Gang, the Oh Brothers, even the lackeys… all of them.”

“So… what do we do now?”

With a heavy sigh, the old man dragged a chair over and slumped into it.

“What is there to do? It’s just a pile of dead scumbags. I’ve already filed a report, so it’s out of your hands.”

“But still...”

“Listen, I explained your situation, Yuri. You’ll be fine.”

“...”

“Those who owed them money will finally breathe freely, some necromancer will cart off the bodies, and you can bet the damn city guards will take care of the Black Snake Gang's safes. That’s how this story ends.”

Gordon paused, his gaze fixed on Yuri’s.

“The real question is, what are you going to do now?”

“...”

“That bastard Jang-sam is dead, and so is the Black Snake Gang. What’s your next move?”

“I don’t know.”

Hearing this, Gordon lit a fresh pipe nearby and took a long draw.

“Going back to pickpocketing like you used to?” he asked, his words emerging with a cloud of hazy smoke.

“Or maybe, with the Black Snake Gang and the Oh Brothers out of the picture, you’ll start your own little crew? Come shaking me down for protection money?”

“No.”

“Well, even if you don’t, someone else will. Some other thug will take over, perhaps outsiders like the Oh Brothers. No matter what happens, if you go back to your old life… you’ll just end up in the same mess again. It’s only a matter of time.”

Gordon, who had known Yuri since he was a boy, spoke with genuine, heartfelt concern.

“Honestly, I'd rather you just come work for me at the store. Hmph, I’ve got a wife and a young kid, so it’s not like I can just hand the business over to you. But still, if you work there long enough, you could save up and open your own place someday. Wouldn’t that be something?”

“I’m not sure,” Yuri mumbled, his head hanging low after listening in silence.

“But I know I don’t want to go back to that life. No more pickpocketing.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Gordon said, a faint, pleased smile visible through the smoke.

“You’re hurt. Go home, get some rest, and give it some real thought.”

Thankfully, Yuri's place wasn’t far. He nodded and pushed himself to his feet.

His left leg, which he’d cut himself on the assumption that wounds scattered about would look more authentic, now seeped blood and made him limp with every agonising step.

Seeing him struggle, Gordon set his pipe down and rose.

“You can barely walk. Look, the shop’s empty, so let me give you a hand.”

‘I can't believe this...!’

Yuri was genuinely moved by Gordon’s kindness.

What had a piece of trash like the original Yuri ever done to deserve such treatment?

His raw gratitude was so plain on his face that Gordon looked away, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment.

“What are you staring at? It’s nearby.”

The look on the boy’s face gave him pause.

It was a world away from the cold, defiant kid from the day before. Whatever he’d gone through, it must have shaken him to his very core.

After a moment of internal debate, Gordon made a decision and crouched down.

“Ah, to hell with it. Get on my back.”

“Ahjussi...!”

“I may not be able to run with you on my back like I used to, but I’m not so old that I can't carry you home when it’s this close.”

The moment Yuri’s weight settled on him, a flash of regret hit Gordon, but he gritted his teeth and pushed through it.

Yuri's home was in a rundown apartment building a few blocks from the general store.

Yuri lived in a dilapidated apartment building just a few blocks from the general store.

“Th-the stairs… you’ll have to do on your own…”

“Yes, yes, of course. I can manage from here.”

Clinging to the banister for support, Yuri bowed his head deeply to Gordon.

“Thank you.”

This time, it was Gordon’s turn to look genuinely touched.

“Was it the near-death experience? You’ve gotten so polite all of a sudden.”

That line sent a chill down his spine.

Was Gordon this moved by a simple 'thank you'? It was a stark reminder of how unruly the original Yuri’s personality must’ve been.

“When the blade was coming at me, I thought of you, Ahjussi… and Elena.”

He had to sell it.

Yuri summoned a bitter smile, shamelessly dropping the name of Elena, a woman he had never even met.

“You should get going, Ahjussi.”

“Right. You get inside.”

He waited until Gordon’s silhouette disappeared down the street before turning to face the stairs.

His leg throbbed with a dull, insistent pain, but he hauled himself upwards, leaning heavily on the rickety banister.

The old stairs groaned under his weight, each step a complaint from wood that seemed ready to splinter and collapse at any moment.

The door to Room 203 was as battered and grimy as the staircase that led to it.

Yuri took a steadying breath, a final moment of preparation, then slid the key into the lock.

Click.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

“…”

It was a shoebox, roughly the same size as the one Lee Su-hyeok had once called home.

“Haha…”

A dry, humorless laugh escaped him.

The memories had shown him this place, but the reality was so much worse. The raw data of a memory couldn’t prepare a person for the lived-in misery of it all.

“There’s really nothing here.”

No kitchen. No bathroom. It was so absurd he just stood there, blank, before another hollow laugh broke the silence.

‘Shoes…’

His hand moved to his laces out of pure muscle memory, but he froze. A rookie mistake, the kind of ingrained modern habit that gets a transmigrator killed.

A glance at the filth caked on the floorboards was all the reminder he needed. Stepping on that barefoot was unthinkable.

It wasn’t that the building lacked a toilet entirely, just that his room did.

He didn't have to go right now, but the knowledge of what he’d have to do eventually was a stone in his gut.

‘Better to face it now.’

Steeling himself, he limped back out of the room and down to the ground floor.

“Hah.”

He found the public toilet.

It was, of course, a primitive squat one. There was nothing to be said about that.

Next to it stood a shared kitchen space with a soot-blackened furnace, and out behind the building, a solitary well.

“Ha. Ha.

The whole squalid picture snapped into focus: sleep on the second floor, go down to the first to piss and shit, haul water from the well outside to wash, and build a fire to cook.

This was his life now.

For Lee Su-hyeok, a man who had never camped, a man who would rather suffer constipation than use a toilet without a flush, a man for whom a daily hot shower was a basic necessity, the reality was dizzying.

He'd never served in the military, but he couldn’t imagine basic training being this primitive.

“Fuck.”

He trudged back up to his room.

This was his reality now, and he had no choice but to adapt.

Forcing a scrap of optimism, he collapsed onto the bed.

The windowsill was caked with a thick layer of dust, the grimy pane of glass distorting the world outside into a grey smear.

This wasn't the Republic of Korea, not the Earth of 2023 that Lee Su-hyeok knew. This was the Seronis Continent, named just like the game.

He had to accept it.

And so, he began to sift through the facts Lorelia's crash course had given him.

Her warnings were the only reason he was still alive.

First, this world was the original source for Seronis, not a copy. It was another, harsher reality.

The clock was ticking differently here, as thirty years had already passed since the events of the game were supposed to have started.

Second, he wasn't the first to arrive. The world was already populated with transmigrators, other players who, like him, had clawed their way to the top of the Hall of Honour only to be taken from their lives.

And this world did not consider them friendly beings.

To the natives, transmigrators were almost parasitic monsters that hijacked the bodies of residents and ran rampant with terrifying power.

That didn’t mean he could trust other transmigrators either.

To them, another transmigrator was more of a competitor than a kindred spirit.

‘Is there really a reason to be so paranoid about someone who was just good at a video game?’

Yes. There was.

The soul of a transmigrator, a being from another world, possessed a special power in itself.

By transmigrating into another's body, they awakened a mana affinity and an intuitive understanding of the world’s power systems, guaranteeing them explosive growth in magic or martial arts.

That was why, to the natives of this world, transmigrators were monstrous beings.

Just the fact that a soul from another world came over and stole someone’s body was reason enough to be shunned, but what if they also gained powerful abilities?

Of course, not all transmigrators went on a rampage.

Lorelia had explained the different paths they took.

Some tried to live quiet lives, hiding from the world. Others desperately sought out the God of Chaos, the evil god of this world, believing he held the key to granting their wish to return home.

But many more became drunk on their newfound power. They embraced the chaos, murdering other transmigrators to eliminate the competition for a wish or simply because they had no desire to ever return to Earth.

And then there were the worst of them.

The ones who had willingly sided with the evil god.

The God of Chaos.

He was an ancient, arrogant being who saw death as a game and morality as a joke.

It was his game, Seronis, that had served as the trap.

He took a perverse interest in the mortals who managed to defeat his final boss, and as a reward, he kidnapped their souls, dropping these false God Slayers into his real world to watch them break.

He delighted in the spectacle, watching as their modern ethics crumbled under the weight of this brutal reality. He revelled in their corruption, feeding on the chaos they created.

True to his name, the God of Chaos drank the blood and tears of the victims he’d lured into his world with his malicious ploy.

Yuri remembered the priestess’s declaration: ‘Our Goddess of Order stands against the God of Chaos. She sent us, her servants, to watch over the victims of his cruel game.’

A dull ache pulsed in his skull, and Yuri massaged his temples, letting out a slow breath.

The problem was that chaos reigned here, leaving the Goddess of Order powerless. All she could do was observe the trap and send her priestesses to intercept the souls of the number one players before they were thrown into this world unprepared.

He remembered her saying they were there to offer a lifeline, to prevent the players from being killed for nothing. The Goddess had sacrificed a lot to make it happen.

At least he had that to be thankful for.

Without the warnings, he would have been walking in blind.

1. Don’t rely on game knowledge.

The game and this world were different. Thirty years had already passed since the game's timeline began. Characters who were NPCs in the game were real, unpredictable people now. Many transmigrators had died or been hurt trying to use game logic on them.

2. Hide the fact you’re a transmigrator.

This is a world where the perception of transmigrators was bad. You have to assume that a transmigrator is always in danger of being attacked and killed.

3. Don’t trust other transmigrators.

They weren't allies, they were competitors for the same prize, and some were even predators.

‘Some hunt other transmigrators to absorb their souls.’

“So I can’t trust anyone,” he breathed out, rubbing the tender wounds.

The whole problem with hostile players could’ve been solved with a simple heads-up, a few names to avoid. But this shitty reality wasn’t going to give him an easy out.

There was a good reason Lorelia couldn't be more specific: the priestesses were forbidden from sharing details about the transmigrators they guided.

She couldn't tell him how many there were, who they were now, or which ones were dangerous. To make things worse, the transmigrators who sided with the evil god had already killed their guides, erasing any chance of tracking them.

The entire intervention was a miracle.

It took the Goddess’s power just to identify a host body before a soul arrived. The priestess would receive that information and greet the player in a waiting room to give them a briefing.

However, performing that miracle had exhausted the Goddess of Order, and now she was in a deep sleep.

“Ugh...”

Yuri groaned, pressing his hands to his head. The pain from the wounds he’d given himself was bad enough, but now his head was pounding from all the things he had to think about.

It was just too much.

’Be wary of the locals, be wary of the other players...' It all boiled down to one thing: trust no one.

Could he trust Gordon? The shopkeeper was kind, but that kindness was for the boy named Yuri. If Gordon found out the real Yuri was dead and a stranger was wearing his body, that kindness would disappear.

Of all the warnings, the first one was the biggest headache: don't trust the game.

Not for people, not for items, not for anything.

Then, a strange sense of relief hit him.

‘Good.’

The guys who were transmigrated after catching a hidden boss like that would surely know the ins and outs of the game's various secrets, so thirty years of other players meant all the good stuff was gone anyway.

But if the game’s secrets were never real to begin with, then he didn't have to resent the people who got here first for taking everything.

‘They must be here, too,’ he thought, his mind drifting to the few people he knew from the game's community.

It wouldn't be possible in this world, but on Earth, there was a community, united by their mutual hatred for the same crappy game.

Of course, it was a foreign site, so at the time, Su-hyeok used a translator to talk with them, mostly joking about what a fucked-up trash game it was... or have idle conversations unrelated to it.

Still, there were people who seriously delved into the game and shared their own know-how.

Of course, any of them who hit number one on the Hall of Honour even once just vanished from the community and the game, but he didn't think anything of it at the time.

He's finally passed on!

The disappearance of the top rankers was actually welcomed with this kind of atmosphere, because when you're part of a community, you tend to get a little more deeply involved with the guys you click with.

Yuri, no, Lee Su-hyeok was the same.

UrMumSpammer.

FootballGOD.

Cat Panties.

FUCKINGSEXY.

USAUSAMI₍ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎.

He didn't know how they might have changed, so he had no desire to meet them right away. But even if it was a shallow connection from meeting in a community and only using the chat room there, he had grown fond of them.

‘Are they still alive?’

Among those five, Su-hyeok’s UrMumSpammer was the last one to reach number one on the Hall of Honour.

“If I knew it was like this, I would have come sooner.”

Lies.

If he knew it would be like this, he wouldn't have steered clear of the game in the first place.

Yuri let out a long breath and sat up.

The thought was clear and heavy in his mind. He wasn't just the last of his online friends to be taken. He was the final transmigrator.

He was sure of it.

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