WeTried Translations

Translator: ZERO_SUGAR

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Regression is Too Much

Chapter 010

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The regressor is too lazy (2)

“Hurgh… ueeeagh…”

I had died.

Just now, one-hundred percent dead.

My ribs were smashed, my waist snapped, my skull burst so that one side of my vision went blood-red.

It lasted only a split second, yet the feeling remained raw.

“Ueeeagh…”

I had really, truly died.

And death regressors have to repeat this?

How are they not already insane?

Get used to dying, they say. How?

If someone could ever get used to this, could you still call that being a person?

The pain was terrible, but the instinctive revulsion was worse—that despair in the instant life guttered out.

No one could just shrug it off.

“Ggh… gk…”

I had suspected the clearing hid some mechanism. Obviously it could not stay a safe zone forever.

I figured there was a time-limit, and that proved true.

A gigantic bull-headed monster slammed into the place. Call it a Minotaur for the moment, since tower monsters usually borrow mythic names.

The pounding was its charge, the vast boom was the shock when it jumped.

If the voice I heard through the blast really belonged to Ji-won, she must have tried to warn us.

“Hoo… hoo…”

What mattered was the fact itself—the Minotaur hit the clearing.

Knowing Ji-won’s kind heart toward the weak gathered here, she must have tried to stop it and failed.

Whether caught off guard or simply outmatched, it meant she could not take the Minotaur down easily.

Even if I repeated the cycle and warned her, the outcome likely would not change. The Minotaur was not made to be beaten, but to serve as a time-limit, a push into crisis.

Otherwise someone could camp in the tutorial forever farming weak monsters. I was still sorting that new info, barely catching my breath, when

“Cough, cough, hoo-oo.”

“Hey there, heeey.”

A bright, syrupy voice called me. I wiped the vomit from my lips and looked up.

“Hee-hee, you weren’t listening, were you?”

The tutorial fairy grinned, flashing those needle teeth, drool stringing from its mouth.

“…”

I took the decision instantly.

Smack!

[You have taken damage.]

[Returning to the moment of first entry on Floor 0.]

“Damn, that was close.”

My head had almost burst. Imagine becoming the Season-One Fairy’s latest victim—dying to a fairy’s head-shot right after death-shock? That would be a truly idiotic way to go.

“Greetings, lowly humans cheerfully wasting your lives! Lovely to meet you!”

This time I kept a clear head and listened to the fairy’s briefing. I did not even glance at Ji-won, and I skipped the stirring speech.

Target: beyond the brush.

Since squatting here a week guaranteed death, I had to venture out, sink or swim.

I still had things to learn from Ji-won, sure, but mentally I was cooked. I could always come back later.

So, how to get through the thicket?

I grabbed a large log I had scouted earlier and a sturdy stick.

What separates humans from beasts is tool use.

…Hoo.

I would rely on humanity’s old friend, fire.

Simple plan: rub stick on log, raise an ember, set the dense brush ablaze.

“Let’s do it.”

Time to see the world outside the bushes.

Thirty minutes later…

[You have taken damage.]

[Returning to the moment of first entry on Floor 0.]

“Shit…”

I had regressed.

I had made two big mistakes.

First: this place was practically a jungle—warm, moist, crawling with life. Even a dry-looking log resisted flame.

Second: while I was enthusiastically rubbing wood, Da-hye strolled over.

“…Sniff. What are you doing?”

“…Trying to start a fire.”

“Why?”

“I want to burn all these bushes down.”

“Won’t work.”

“Huh?”

The green belt around the clearing was living plant life, not brittle reed. Fresh growth does not ignite easily, she explained.

Right, wildfires happen mostly in spring or winter, rarely mid-summer.

“…You’re right.”

I had been thinking in Pokémon terms, grass type is weak to fire. Now I knew why people warn about game addiction; I was mixing game and reality.

Embarrassed by the thought, I smacked the back of my own head and regressed on the spot.

“…”

Two options remained.

One, wrap up in clothes again and dive through.

Two, hack away with a sword.

I chose option two.

Ji-won called me below average, but even a below-average idiot can slash weeds.

I picked up a sword with practiced ease and faced the greenery. I focused on the blade tip, muscles drawing taut, and swung.

“…Hup!”

Swish!

With a crisp sound the foliage split clean at waist height.

“…I did it.”

At last.

Back when I first swung a sword, the grass merely bent, but I could actually cut it now. All that grinding under Ji-won had not been wasted.

Because I measured myself against someone absurdly strong, I had gotten stronger without noticing it.

Emotion welled up, and I clenched my fist.

“…Good.”

It looked like a tiny step, yet for a regressor it was a giant stride.

Keep going, Jun-ho. You can do this.

Motivation over, time for reality. Cutting grass felt great, but two problems surfaced.

First, it was insanely hard. Only with full concentration and power did the blade sever stalks, burning stamina and will.

Second, the cut line sat just below my waist. I aimed lower, but force faded beneath that.

Still, it was progress. With my legs wrapped I could push through, sword in hand.

But it also meant my legs had to stay swaddled, hurting mobility, dense stems would still snag me.

“Tch. What else can I do?”

No other choice, so I kept cutting.

Complain all I liked, what was the alternative, get stomped by the Minotaur again?

What followed was a long, dull grind.

For leg wraps, I swiped the jacket the digging man had left behind.

Cut, rest, cut, rest.

I hate repetitive work, but a regressor must embrace repetition. Sometimes Da-hye came over.

“…Um, what are you doing?”

“Cutting grass.”

“Why?”

“I want to leave, but I’m allergic to plants.”

“…Ah.”

We had no deep conversations.

All day I cut, slept from exhaustion, woke and cut again. I even met Ji-won returning with supplies.

“…Eat.”

She threw me a water bottle and a calorie bar, eyes full of pity.

She probably thought I was nuts, but I could not explain. I simply thanked her and kept cutting.

Repeat, repeat, repeat.

When my throat ran dry even after draining a bottle,

“Kreruk! Kiee-e-ek!”

A familiar cry sounded nearby.

I laid the dulled blade behind me and picked up a fresh sword. Cutting up plants was field-testing enough. Real worth shows in combat.

“…Come on.”

I murmured.

“KIEEEE-E-EK!”

Two goblins burst from either side, claws reaching for my throat.

Their filthy talons, teeth with ragged flesh stuck between, oily eyes—every detail was clear.

“…Ah.”

Was this how Ji-won felt looking at me?

With the very stance I had honed cutting weeds, my blade flashed like lightning.

Shlaaash!

A fountain of green blood sprayed to christen my debut. Both goblins clutched their sliced throats, collapsing without knowing what hit them.

“Too slow.”

Trash mobs like these were no longer opponents for me.

Footnotes:

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