WeTried Translations

Translator: Hydrogen B

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◈ Omniscient First-Person's Viewpoint

Chapter 237

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I Won

Bren, a Level 1 citizen who made a living hauling cargo at Central Waystation, had a secret he could tell no one.

He was with the Resistance.

The military state was cruel to failures, or rather, it had no interest in them at all. Once their citizen registration was complete, they were left to fend for themselves. Their future was simple: labor for life until they died. Bren lacked the aptitude to even attend middle school, but his future was so obvious that even he could see it.

A cogwheel life had been laid out before him. Like a cogwheel, Bren kept turning without even feeling doubt.

Still, humans had free will. Enough free will, even, to believe free will itself was an illusion.

Tomorrow would repeat yesterday. That hypothesis had been inductively proven by every day Bren had lived so far. Yesterday had not been fun, and nothing much had made him happy, so tomorrow would clearly be the same. He lived each day in a numbness deeper than despair.

Then his life changed. It began with one unfamiliar visitor.

A young man came by with a bottle of beer, drank with him, and talked for a long time. The man was cheerful, and little by little, Bren's mood lifted too. Even when the young man got pleasantly drunk and started badmouthing the military state like an immature fool, Bren only snickered and joined in.

After that day, Bren became Resistance.

The reason came afterward. Once he became Resistance, his life turned exciting. Just imagining what noble directive might come down, and how coolly he would carry it out, made him giddy. Even the right amount of tension from wondering if Public Safety might show up made him feel fulfilled.

At least tomorrow was no longer the same as yesterday.

After joining the Resistance, his life changed. Every day felt meaningful. Meaningful.

He was not absurdly meticulous or cautious, but in all his time as Resistance, he had never once been caught in the military state's surveillance net.

The reason was simple. Not a single directive had come down yet. If anything, he worked too hard to avoid suspicion, so his supervisor's evaluation improved, though nothing really changed.

Still, when the moment came that demanded a great decision, he never doubted he would move on the Resistance side. He had lived this whole time for that one day.

He was working with his usual energy today when a young laborer approached from the other side. The young man, his face slightly shadowed, gripped Bren's shoulder and whispered.

"Bren-ssi. A directive."

That day had come. Bren gave a heavy nod.

The briefing was short, clean, and rushed.

Target: strike Headquarters. Start: immediately after arriving at Central Waystation. The regressor gathered everyone and explained in a calm voice.

"The road to Headquarters is lined with checkpoints and garrison units. Inspections are thorough too. From here on, sneaking in is impossible."

Break through by force. The method the regressor presented was shockingly simple.

"Outwardly, we'll frame this as a Resistance assault. At Central Waystation, I'll subdue the station director and the other senior officials. Everyone else head to Headquarters first. I'll wrap this up and follow right behind you."

Central Waystation was directly linked to Headquarters, the largest waystation on the entire Meta-Conveyor Belt. It was a top-priority facility guarded by a resident general officer, and in emergencies, three nearby units dispatched elite troops there. The regressor saying she would seize that place in one go felt unreal.

But the regressor's power was close to all-purpose. She had not reached the absolute peak, but no one could match her in variety of methods, or in how close to perfection she could wield them.

"Can you do it?"

"Leave it to me."

What the determined regressor caused was beyond imagination.

"Emergency! Emergency! Enemy assault!"

"Run awaaaaay!"

The moment they opened a container, pure white smoke burst out from inside like an explosion. It was a cloud created by the regressor.

With wind, cloud, and rain, constant thunder and lightning.

Skywarbler's essence was compressed space, and inside it she could store cloud and wind that existed only in the sky. The regressor emptied one container, spent hours inside it building up power, then released everything at once.

A localized thundercloud formed over Central Waystation. Unlike an ordinary thundercloud, this one was stacked like a tower from just above the ground. In mist so thick you could not see an inch ahead, only the regressor, with Seven-Colored Eyes active, strode forward without hesitation.

The command chain was paralyzed in an instant.

"Waaaaah! It's the Resistance! A Resistance attack!"

"Everybody run! We'll all die at this rate!"

"It's dangerous! You'll get your blood drained and turn into a vampire!"

Panicked laborers, Resistance members stirring up chaos among them, soldiers and supervisors trying to respond in a rush; everything mixed into pure disorder. If voices had carried clearly, maybe things would have been different, but this was a waystation. Giant cranes and countless laborers made noise from every direction. Sound did not travel even ten steps before the cloud swallowed it.

"This won't work! Bring the director!"

The most diligent and capable soldiers rushed to find their superior and restore order fast. The station director of Central Waystation was a general officer. They believed that if a general stepped in, this confusion could be organized and everyone could be led.

For the military state, the core qualification of a general officer was sustained combat capability. A general standing above all could not die easily. They had to survive to the very end and lead their troops.

So all general officers were powerhouses who had mastered energy control and could reinforce their whole bodies. They set inner focus upright within themselves and maintained a constant state at all times. True war machines.

The soldiers ran desperately to the station director, ready to ask for command over the chaos.

"Director! Please take command...!"

But when those men with a sense of duty entered the director's office, the station director was already unconscious under the regressor's foot.

The regressor, catching her breath after an intense fight, waved toward the unexpected guests.

"Hi."

"Y-You, who are... Agh!"

Now. I swung my club from behind the door and smashed the back of his head. Senior Supply Sergeant Ketern collapsed without putting up proper resistance.

Trembling, I set down the club soaked in blood.

"Aaaaah. I'm non-combat personnel, so why the hell am I working here...?"

"For non-combat personnel, you fight pretty well."

"That's because I only picked off small fry and ambushed them from behind! More importantly, why did you single me out and bring me? There are plenty of people way more used to fighting!"

The regressor answered as if it were obvious.

"It's still daytime, so it's better to save Tyrkanzyaka's power. The King of Dogs and the King of Cats don't move the way I want. In that case, you're the next best fit."

"Next best? This is way too dangerous for an ordinary petty criminal like me!"

"...I still don't know what you're hiding. Fine, I'll call you ordinary. Any notable findings?"

"Oh, right. I saw a safe on the way here. No time to crack it, right?"

"Guide me. I'll toss the whole thing into the pocket."

Even in this situation, the regressor finished looting thoroughly. The safe, made from level 5 alchemic steel, went straight into her spatial vault, pocket and all.

That pocket thing is seriously broken. It might be even more broken than Skywarbler or Jizan.

"...Used to fighting. You've never shown overwhelming power, but fighting together with you feels oddly comfortable. You don't get in the way, you're thorough, and you catch enemy openings well. I should keep using you."

Don't use me. Preserve me. Think of me like a sunfish that dies if you tap it too hard.

After roughly finishing cleanup, the regressor and I stepped out of the waystation office. Outside was still chaotic, but one group was moving with a bit of order. It was a Resistance cluster trying to escape while the waystation was in confusion.

One young man stood out.

He looked like a laborer, but carried himself with the ease of an officer. Naturally, he was watching the area around him.

I realized who he was.

Chento, who read the wind well. A survivor of Hameln. Out of all those kids, one of the few who clawed his way through the riverbed with sheer will to survive somehow.

I had wondered what he was doing, and it turned out he was finding helpers for the Resistance. He carried the heavy role in an infiltration unit, building large networks of internal collaborators directly and indirectly. A former officer hopeful becoming a Resistance recruiter, should I call that success or corruption.

He led the non-combat Resistance members, linked up with prearranged collaborators in the waystation, and got onto the belt. The north was about to be swallowed by war. For Resistance members who had to abandon their base, the only short-term escape route was the Meta-Conveyor Belt.

They would run, and the military state would not be able to chase them. It would have no spare capacity.

Right then, the regressor sensed another presence and said,

"They're coming. Troops from nearby units."

"Good. Then let's pull back too. If we head south toward Headquarters, they'll chase us!"

"Just pull back? Feels a little wasteful."

The regressor held Skywarbler and Jizan crossed. Pressing both blades together at one point, she slid Skywarbler across Jizan's body like she was sharpening a dull edge. Where the blades touched, unusual friction sparked.

Normally, rubbing steel against steel makes metal flakes and sparks fly. Then what if you rub the sword of heaven and the sword of earth together?

I had no idea. It was my first time seeing both swords.

But I did know what happened when heaven and earth scraped against each other.

The Celestial God's fury. Lightning.

Pzzzzzt.

An absurd amount of lightning burst from the tips of the two divine swords. Even at this distance, my whole body prickled. Yellow cracks split the air, and lightning poured from those gaps like someone had opened a faucet.

That seeping lightning spread into the clouds filling all directions. The clouds the regressor had raised over the ground darkened little by little and rumbled ominously. Lightning can strike under a clear sky too, but for lightning to be complete, it needs ground.

Holding writhing lightning in her hand, drunk on omnipotence, the regressor muttered,

"Heaven-and-Earth Sword-Cudgel. Lightning Sweep."

"You really say your finisher's name out loud? If you explain the element and attack style too, won't everyone dodge?"

"S-Shut up! The move has weak power and big motions, so it doesn't land well on sharp strong opponents!"

"Ah, so it's one of those bully-the-weak moves."

"It's a wide-area move!"

Style points aside, the regressor's swordsmanship was magic swordplay, channeling even her own spells through divine blades.

She yanked Jizan hard, and dozens of lightning streaks dug forward like giant fingers, scraping and sweeping across the ground.

"Gyaaaaaah!"

"Guuuh...!"

The earth itself flipped over, and the soldiers in that zone convulsed and collapsed. Now the military state would have to attack enemies and handle casualties at the same time.

Overturned ground, stormclouds flashing with lightning, humans dropped inside them from electrocution. I looked at destruction too massive to believe one mere person had caused it.

"...I'm getting cognitive dissonance here, not sure if Mr. Shei is amazing or if this waystation is just nothing special. I hope Headquarters is this easy too."

"We only need to watch out for the Six Generals and general officers. A lot of them are outside right now anyway, so it won't be that different."

"Well, Mr. Shei's the one fighting. As long as you use that bully-the-weak move well, everyone weaker than you will go down. Keep it up!"

"I told you it's a wide-area move! You fight properly too, already! How long are you going to keep half-assing it?!"

I was already going all out. Improve your eye for people.

From what I could see, only soldiers or wounded people twitching in spasms were left at the waystation now. Most laborers had fled, and the Resistance seemed to have ridden off on the belt.

By the time finding enemies became hard, a battalion arrived from the far side to support the waystation. It was a fully equipped war unit.

"Alright, now we really pull out. If we get too excited and waste stamina, we'll regret it."

"So you were aware you got excited, and aware it was wasteful. Knowing that and doing it anyway means we're already regretting it, doesn't it?"

"Stop yapping. Just grab my hand. If the arcane corps intercepts us, it'll get annoying, so we'll fly out at full speed first!"

"Wait. If we're flying, why do I need to hold your hand? No way, right? You're not saying I have to dangle from your hand while flying, are youuuuu?!"

And it was one hand, of course. I don't even hang one-handed from a pull-up bar.

Dangling back and forth from the regressor's hand, I set a new personal record in one-handed hanging.

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