WeTried Translations

Translator: Joy

Editor: Joy

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Damned Transmigration

Chapter 31

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Explanations

“It’s… well…” Lacey began, the explanation stalling on her tongue.

She searched for the right words. The term hadn't existed in her native language, but the sentiment was universal. Her homeland had its own crude library of similar curses. The difficulty wasn't in the definition, but in the delivery.

“Um… hmm…”

As she meticulously prepared the coffee, her hesitation continued. It would be so much simpler to be blunt, but then as now, Lacey Yuzha was a woman who guarded her dignity.

Finally, she managed, “It’s a category of insult.”

“An insult?”

Orca tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. She slipped off her waistcoat and began to work on the buttons of her shirt.

“There are countless ways to insult someone. What kind would possibly require a dedicated immunity?”

“Hmm…”

“I assumed ‘immunity’ was an attribute, like a resistance to fire or lightning. But your world was devoid of magic and martial arts, was it not?”

“In a sense… this insult is categorised by its attribute.”

“You’re speaking in riddles. Just spit it out,” Orca grumbled, her patience wearing thin. Having unfastened her shirt, she sank into the plush depths of the sofa with a weary sigh.

Lacey took a breath.

“It’s an insult directed at a person’s parents.”

Orca blinked.

“...?”

“It is exactly what it sounds like,” Lacey clarified, her voice tight.

“A slur that targets one’s parentage.”

For a long moment, Orca simply stared, her expression a perfect blank. Then, with a slow, deliberate nod, she delivered her verdict with sincere frankness.

“How utterly perplexing.”

“Ahem.”

“So, this… ‘UrMumSpammer’ character possesses an immunity to insults about his parents?”

“Precisely.”

“How is such a thing even possible?”

“The specific mechanics were never clear to me.”

Lacey heaved a heavy sigh, pouring the dark, fragrant coffee into a porcelain cup.

“He was a vile piece of work.”

“The name alone implies as much. His nickname, I should say?”

“It isn’t his real name, no. Though, now that he’s crossed over, it might as well be.”

“And besides the name, what other charming qualities did he possess?”

“He was a predator,” Lacey said, her eyes distant as she dredged up the memories. Memories from before she was ‘Lacey Yuzha’. From a life on Earth, fifteen years ago, when she had simply enjoyed a game.

“His entire routine revolved around singling out and attacking players who genuinely loved the game, the ones who shared their knowledge freely for the good of the community.”

“You sound as if you hold a personal grudge. Did he target you?”

“Of course he did,” Lacey retorted, a flash of old anger in her eyes.

“He publicly declared my work to be trash, picking apart every detail of the guides I had poured my soul into writing.”

Even after more than fifteen years, the humiliation was a fresh sting. His critiques, she could grudgingly admit, were not entirely without merit, but at the time, her pride had been incandescent with rage that anyone would dare challenge her.

“I attempted to engage him in a dignified debate on several occasions. I argued for mutual respect, for a constructive exchange of opinions. But every time I offered a rebuttal, his response was the same: he’d kill my mother.”

Orca’s hand, midway to her cup, froze.

“He… killed your mother?”

“Ah, not literally,” Lacey clarified with a weary sigh.

“That was simply the nature of his insults.”

She sat down opposite Orca, placing the coffee on the table before folding her arms.

“I’m fairly certain he hasn’t crossed over to this world. Not yet.”

“You’re sure of this?”

“Yes. For all his… trash-tier personality and his completely unhinged way of speaking, the man’s understanding of the game was profound.”

She’d never admit it aloud, but back then, Lacey had often cross-referenced her own work with UrMumSpammer’s posts.

“If he had come here, he would have made a name for himself by now. According to my sources, he hadn’t even reached the top rank until very recently, by my world’s standards.”

“And you trust these sources?”

“The little seedling at the Habert Mage Tower vouched for it,” Lacey said.

Orca smiled, taking a sip of coffee. The Habert Mage Tower, a staunch ally of the Sect of Earth, carefully nurtured their transmigrator like a flower in a greenhouse. That he was a transmigrator at all was a secret known to an exceedingly small circle.

“As far as I know, he’s the most recent arrival.”

Though ‘recent’ in this world meant several years ago, the flow of time between here and Earth was not a straight line.

“He told me that just before he was brought here, UrMumSpammer was still floundering in the lower tiers of the Hall, nowhere near the summit.”

“Perhaps he was all theory and no practical skill?”

“Unlikely. It felt more like he could have taken the top spot at any moment, but simply chose not to.”

“What makes you so certain?”

“Because UrMumSpammer said so himself.”

In any world, those whose words outstrip their deeds are destined for scorn.

When the Hall of Honour opened, many of the community’s hardcore veterans threw themselves at the challenge. UrMumSpammer, who was seemingly always online but whose record never changed, became a laughingstock.

His response had been simple: I could get first place, I’m just not doing it.

The newcomers called it a pathetic excuse. Lacey had believed him.

“The hothouse flower from Habert also admitted he received a great deal of help from him. He was about to give up, his record stalled, but after tweaking his build based on UrMumSpammer’s advice, his score skyrocketed.”

“A curious fellow indeed.”

“And a suspicious one,” Lacey added, her brow furrowing.

“The Habert boy isn’t the only one. Several other users who hit the number one spot before him claimed to have received his advice.”

Her frown deepened.

“The number of top-rankers he was responsible for creating was… significant.”

“From your telling, he sounds less like a benefactor and more like a menace,” Orca chuckled, taking another sip.

“When you know the truth of it, reaching first place is hardly a glorious achievement, is it?”

Lacey said bitterly.

“If you hadn't ranked first in that godforsaken game, you never would have been torn from your life and thrown into this world.”

“Precisely. In fact, the Habert flower suspects UrMumSpammer might have been an agent of the God of Chaos. He despises the man for it.”

“It’s a credible theory. By your account, this UrMumSpammer was deliberately manufacturing transmigrators.”

“I don’t want to believe he was an agent of an evil god, but… the thought sends a shiver down my spine. To be honest, the only reason I managed to reach first place myself was because I implemented one of his suggestions.”

“So, you suspected that this boy, Yuri, might be him?” Orca’s eyes narrowed.

Lacey fell silent.

Tap, tap, tap…

Her fingers drummed a restless rhythm on the table as she weighed her thoughts. Finally, with a short sigh, she shook her head.

“If he were a transmigrator, I thought the timing made it a possibility… but I’m no longer so sure.”

“Oh?”

“Lady Orca, I observed him as you requested, but we never had a deep conversation. From what little I saw, he is intensely… rational. Sensible. The UrMumSpammer I knew was a creature of pure chaos.”

“Couldn’t his online persona and his true self be different?”

“In the Moonlit Reveller’s case, they were identical,” Lacey countered dryly.

“Then again, that man is utterly, certifiably insane.”

She stopped her drumming and met Orca’s gaze.

“Surely your impression is more important than mine?”

“He showed no affinity for mana. I checked when we first met, and he had no discernible internal energy. I checked again, just before he used that Thunder God’s Mirage technique… his internal energy was average at best.”

“Could he have concealed it?”

“Impossible.”

Orca’s tone was absolute.

“There is a state on the martial path known as ‘mastery through simplicity’, a level where one’s energy becomes completely undetectable. But that cannot be reached before the 7th Circle.”

“What about an artifact?”

“I scanned his dantian with my own mana. No artifact, no matter how powerful, could have perfectly masked his internal energy under that kind of direct scrutiny.”

“There was an item in the game, the ‘Veil of Deception’—”

“You’ve mentioned it. I know the Veil of Deception well. In fact,” Orca’s finger traced a line in the air, and a small bracelet materialised from a tear in space, “I have one myself. It artificially suppresses one’s presence and energy. But it is useless against a direct-contact scan. It’s an interesting artifact, primarily used by demonic practitioners. It was created by Demonic Cult artisans to mask the corrupting energy they constantly bleed.”

“Then Sir Yuri cannot be a transmigrator,” Lacey concluded, clicking her tongue as she rested her chin in her hand.

“It’s been a month since he began his training, correct? You said he’s been working with the Fist Wolf almost daily, diligently cultivating his energy. If he were a transmigrator, a month of focused effort would have produced explosive results.”

“His talent for mana is nonexistent. But his talent for the martial arts… that is very real.”

“And that’s what makes this so ambiguous,” Lacey mused.

A transmigrator with a talent for mana would naturally gravitate towards magic. But that didn't mean they'd forsake the martial path. They were, after all, gamers. They clung to the familiar, to the skills they had already mastered.

The standard path for such a person would be to cultivate their internal energy first, raising their Circle. Once they reached the 3rd Circle, even mediocre techniques became potent.

“If Sir Yuri were a transmigrator, I thought the timing would make him UrMumSpammer, but…”

“You say he isn’t, yet your words remain laced with doubt.”

“Because I still have suspicions,” Lacey admitted.

“You heard it as well, Lady Orca. When Yuri heard the name of the Moonlit Reveller’s technique, Heavenly Downpour, he reacted. And his reaction was… strange.”

At first, she thought he’d smiled. But an instant later, he was coughing up blood, his internal state thrown into chaos by the Fist Wolf’s desperate plight.

“And at the end, he stood up for the Fist Wolf. Right in front of the Moonlit Reveller.”

“I would say Yuri genuinely cares for the man. While the entire arena chanted the Reveller’s name, he was the only one calling for the Fist Wolf. And as you said, for a martial arts novice to step forward before one of the Revered of the Martial Pinnacle… that is not something just anyone can do.”

“Furthermore, Sir Yuri made no attempt to act familiar with the Moonlit Reveller.”

“Familiar?”

“They were close comrades in our world.”

“Being close in a game does not grant you liberties in this world. It’s only natural to be wary of another transmigrator.”

“If, and this is a significant if, Sir Yuri is a transmigrator, what will you do, Lady Orca?”

Lacey asked, her eyes gleaming with sharp intelligence.

Orca merely snorted.

“Why? Do you imagine I’ll fry him to a crisp?”

“For Elena’s sake, I thought you might.”

“No. For Elena’s sake, I would leave him be.”

“But if he is a transmigrator and Elena discovers the truth, wouldn’t she be devastated?”

“And that is precisely why I would leave him be,” Orca replied with a serene smile.

Lacey couldn't help but let out a dry, humorless laugh.

“You are truly a wicked woman.”

“My motives aren’t limited to Elena. A transmigrator who managed to evade my detection, whose talent was acknowledged by the Moonlit Reveller himself… that alone makes him a valuable asset. It has been thirty years since your kind began arriving in this world, Lacey. Thirty years is a long time.”

Orca paused, her gaze lost in the dregs of her empty cup.

“Many fools still prattle on about the dangers of transmigrators, calling for their extermination. But the wise are beginning to recognise their potential. I am raising you, am I not? And the Heavenly Demon of the Demonic Cult… he has also shown a profound interest in them.”

“Is that so?”

“There are whispers that his own Young Leader is a transmigrator.”

“That’s the first I’m hearing of it.”

“It’s an unconfirmed rumour. But look at the Habert Mage Tower, the Sect of Earth. They are diligently nurturing their own transmigrator. The calculus is simple: it is better to raise a transmigrator with guaranteed talent than a native with mediocre abilities. Provided,” she added, her eyes glinting, “there are no issues with their character.”

’Issues with character.’

The words made Lacey smile grimly.

Decades ago, she had arrived at the Dersia Mage Tower, a refugee from another world. Orca had recognised her talent and allowed her entry. A year later, in this very room, Orca had subdued her and interrogated her about her origins.

One wrong word, one misstep, and she would not be sitting here today.

Lacey decided to change the subject.

“What happened with the Ascard Family?”

“I heard about the Moonlit Reveller.”

“He solved a problem for them in exchange for an elixir, yes?”

“Do you know of the Blood Fiend Saber?”

“I have heard the name.”

He was a 6th-Circle wanderer from the Underworld who had raided an Ascard merchant branch months ago, vanishing with a fortune.

“It seems he was attempting to defect to the Demonic Cult. The Moonlit Reveller, on behalf of the Ascard Family, hunted him down and killed him.”

“Surely there were others who could have handled that task? An elixir seems an excessive reward.”

“What is strange is that the Reveller, a man who has never belonged to any faction, approached the Ascard Family first.”

“Aha. So the elixir wasn't just payment for the Blood Fiend Saber’s head?”

“One of the Four Perils of the Martial Pinnacle offered to be their personal problem-solver. The Ascards were demonstrating their sincerity. Though, it seems the Reveller desired a different reward entirely.”

“What kind of reward? Is this something I should be privy to?”

“It shouldn’t be a problem. That is likely why Alfreon told me.”

Alfreon, the head of the Ascard Family, was an old friend of Orca’s. But their friendship didn't extend to sharing sensitive secrets. The fact that Alfreon had told Orca meant the information was either not a true secret, or it was a veiled request for her counsel.

“The Moonlit Reveller is searching for a sanctuary of the Sect of Order.”

Lacey blinked.

“He… what?”

“He wants the location of a sanctuary, or at the very least, a method of contacting them.”

The Ascard Family were major patrons of both the Sect of Earth and the Sect of Plenty. A request from them could summon the archbishops of either sect. Crucially, those two sects had remained neutral decades ago when the Sect of Order was persecuted and expelled from the allied city-states.

“Is he asking them to act as a bridge?”

“If that were his only goal, approaching the sects directly would be far more efficient. No, it seems the Moonlit Reveller is convinced the Ascards are secretly supporting the Sect of Order.”

“Is it true?”

“Who the Ascards support is their business, and I have no interest in prying. But the Reveller must believe it for a reason. Alfreon, for his part, denied any connection.”

Orca chuckled, her eyes fixed on Lacey’s face.

“What do you think? Why would the Moonlit Reveller be searching for the Sect of Order?”

“The Sect’s most infamous priestess, the Fell Saint Lorelia, is an elusive phantom. One does not simply arrange a meeting with her.”

“Indeed. I’ve never seen her myself.”

“I doubt he’s seeking the Fell Saint specifically… so, a transmigrator looking for the Sect of Order…”

‘The community… UrMumSpammer… Friendship…’

The fragments of information began to snap together in Lacey’s mind.

“Could he be looking for another transmigrator?”

“The priestesses are bound by divine oath. They would never divulge such information.”

“Of course, the Reveller must know that. But perhaps he’s desperate enough to try regardless.”

Lacey thought of the circle the Moonlit Reveller used to run with: a cadre of madmen, not quite as unhinged as him, but far from sane. Among them, only he had ever openly flaunted his status as a transmigrator. Whether the others had crossed over, or what masks they wore now, was a complete mystery.

“Well… it’s mere speculation. He could have a completely different reason.”

Still, if it were possible to glean information about other transmigrators from a priestess… there was one thing she desperately needed to know.

‘UrMumSpammer’.

The man who might be an apostle of the God of Chaos.

She had to know if that man was now living in this world.

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