WeTried Translations

Translator: ZEROSUGAR

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Regression is Too Much

Chapter 184

──────

The regressor agonizes (6)

There's a saying that your vision only clears once you've climbed high enough. I think I saw it in some motivational video, years ago. The gist was: climb high and your sight will open up, so put in the work, get into a good school, land a good job, that sort of thing.

I genuinely agreed with it. Not with the modern obsession over prestige and rank, the sickness of chasing the best institution and the most impressive company title. No, I agreed because climbing high had, quite literally, cleared my vision.

My body had been forged by the Tower, yes. But more than that, there was the ability I'd been given. Regression.

It had thrown open a boundless world of possibility. To put it plainly, there was nothing I couldn't do anymore.

If spears suddenly looked appealing, I could train with a spear. It would take a very long time, but someday my spear mastery would surpass my swordsmanship. Simple as that.

If there was someone I wanted to get close to, or someone I wanted removed, I could just act on it. Their personality is too twisted? Their combat ability too strong? Would it still be hard after dozens, hundreds of attempts? No one in reality has ever reached that absolute peak of power, the legendary demon-king beyond all reckoning from the old stories. Touching another person's fate was, for me, trivially easy.

What about society, then, rather than a single person? If I decided I wanted to be President of Korea, could I pull it off? Probably. Remove Michael Zetter and take his seat as head of the Player Association? That too.

Nothing was impossible. Given enough time, anything could be done. Not enough willpower? Give up your humanity. Mortgage your own sanity as collateral.

A bit of an exaggeration, maybe. But not far off. Too many things shifted based on how I chose to act. The course of humanity was in my hands.

And yet, perhaps because too much was possible, I found myself crushed by that same boundless potential instead.

During the Tutorial, and inside the Tower, regression had never felt like a heavy thing. I only agonized over it when I was deciding someone's fate, or right before throwing myself into another string of loops. The Tower, at the end of the day, was a closed space.

But living in reality, meeting countless people day after day, I felt the weight of what I was carrying in a way I never had before. Even with regression, I kept asking myself: were these really decisions I could make so lightly? My actions rippled out into humanity. I couldn't just empty my head and go with whatever felt right.

Right now was no different.

"That's... a question I don't think I can answer."

"...Is that so."

William Smith was a man of extraordinary capability. He had beaten cancer, what people liked to call modern humanity's final destination, and his ability to mend physical damage was remarkable. Players had been funneling Tower-obtained Elixirs of Experience to him in large quantities, so his level was no joke either. There were other gifted healers in the world, but William was humanity's finest without question. A saint. A living miracle. A symbol of hope.

And now that same excellence, that greatness, that sheer depth of ability, was the thing shackling him.

He knew it himself, deep down. That he had to stop. That pushing further would only break his body more. That he might actually die if he kept going. That stopping was the rational and correct thing to do.

And yet he kept agonizing, because something in him wasn't at peace. The patients outside, dying, desperately waiting for his hands, they refused to leave his mind.

Standing at that crossroads, I felt there was only one thing I could say.

"...If there's one thing I've learned, it's that making the choice you'll regret least is almost always the right answer."

"The choice you'll regret least..." William gave a small nod. "That's a broad answer. But coming from you, Jun-ho-nim, it carries a different weight."

"Truth is, I've already asked the people around me. My wife, my children, my friends. They all told me to stop. To think wisely."

He took a slow sip from his mug of potion, then gently took my hand.

"I'll make the choice I won't regret, too. Thank you." A pause. "I'm sorry to ask this right after such kind advice, but could you give me a little time alone?"

"...Of course."

I already had a feeling which way he'd decided. I slipped out of the room without another word.

The next day, an article came out saying William Smith had resumed treating patients.

In the photo, he was smiling broadly.

A month had passed since we arrived in America. Midway through, the Korean government found out that Ji-won was stateside and there'd been a minor commotion, but Michael dealt with it before it could spread.

We spent those weeks eating and sleeping in a building the Player Association had arranged for us. That old saying about seeing far from a high place, it applied here too. Staying in an Association building, we had a front-row view of the world as it shifted, more clearly than anyone else could have managed.

The world was changing. Not just the emergence of extraordinary abilities and monsters, but the actual fabric of society was beginning to move.

It had started with the US President's impeachment.

"The government is doing its best."

"Get lost!"

"Drop dead, you useless parasite!"

The President kept insisting he was trying, that this had surpassed the government's capacity, but public sentiment was ice cold. He had gone into hiding at the very start of the crisis.

"According to this recording, you stated you were 'conducting research that will change the fate of the world.' I'd like to understand the intent behind those words."

"What is this 'book' that keeps coming up? Are you mixed up in some cult? Where exactly did the budget go?"

"Explain yourself!"

When it then came out that the President had been siphoning tax money into this suspicious research, the fire spread beyond anyone's ability to contain it. Even members of his own party were openly asking whether the President had lost his mind. That was how catastrophic it had become.

"...Perhaps I was wrong in my thinking. I apologize."

The President, who had been quietly holding out in the White House, called a press conference one day and resigned. Word later spread that what broke him was the news: the research he'd backed so heavily, enough to funnel public funds into, had ended in failure.

With the US government fallen from power, the vacuum it left was filled naturally, inevitably, by Michael Zetter.

"Nobody knows when or where monsters will appear. Are we going to fire missiles over our own cities every time a dragon shows up in the sky? Send tanks down narrow alleyways? I'm not saying the military is useless. I'm saying that when it comes to taking down monsters, a strong player is far more 'appropriate.'"

Americans who had been reeling from casualties listened. The man speaking was the one who had defeated the dragon over New York, after all. And it wasn't only America, as time passed, monsters appeared in other countries too, and people died each time. India, unable to subdue a giant elephant, had been forced to fire several missiles. That was one example among many.

"This is a question of efficiency. The number of players must grow far beyond what it is now. If I may be so bold, governments around the world should purchase Tower by-products at a premium. People need a reason to climb."

-Michael Zetter is right.

-Are we going to shoot missiles into city centers every time? Developing strong players is the answer.

-If Michael Zetter hadn't been there, what would we have done? We probably would've had to nuke our own skies.

Not just Americans. People around the world felt it. For the first time, human society was crying out for strong players.

-Those parasites sitting on Floor 1 without climbing should be penalized.

-Those who actually climb and push forward deserve proper rewards.

Michael Zetter's 'Age of Players,' which had once seemed far-fetched, was truly taking shape. People who had once watched players the way they watched athletes or celebrities now looked at them the way you'd look at genuine heroes. Their lives were on the line. Of course they did.

-Countries with strong players are safer. Look at America. Didn't they make it through the worst of it because of Michael Zetter? Look at India. They shot missiles into their own soil.

And what crowned it all was the Player Association's Player Ranking system. Around the time the idea took hold that countries with more strong players were safer, the Association announced the Player Academy system alongside the Rankings.

"S-grade rank 2 is... Choi Ji-won?"

"Our country is ranked second in the world? Beating out all those other nations?"

Koreans were beside themselves with a sudden rush of national pride. Ji-won, ranked second in the world. Just hearing the words was enough to make your chest swell.

At this point, I'd planned to just sit back and watch where it all went. The shifting of society was interesting to follow, and strong monsters had been showing up less and less.

"Jun-ho."

But surprises always came from where you least expected them.

"Can't we go back now? Regress?"

The one who first suggested returning was Ji-won.

Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried