WeTried Translations


Translator: ZEROSUGAR

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried



◈ Regression is Too Much




Chapter 195

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The regressor coasts (3)

 


“Are you sure about this?”


That was Ji-won’s first question after hearing my plan. I’d come back to reality to find her already waiting, so I walked her through everything.


As a side note, the Floor 17 Ji-won had experienced was identical to mine in every respect. The only difference, she said, was that hers had been all women. No idea why, but it seemed like they had divided it by gender this time.


“So… you said repeating regression on Floor 15 caused problems. And there’s an angel stationed there, on top of everything.”


The elder I’d met on Floor 15 had warned me: don’t lean on regression too heavily when angels are present. Those who draw on divine power might be able to detect it.


“I have a plan.”


That said, I had been accounting for all of this. To put it plainly, I was confident I could get through without anything serious going wrong.


“For starters, I’m not going anywhere near the angel. You have to walk a bit from the starting point before it even appears anyway.”


“…And?”


“And there’s no reason to get tangled up with it during the process. All I’m doing is regressing the moment I step onto Floor 17. Not a single word. Won’t even see its face.”


“Hmm…”


“Honestly, it scares me a little. The idea that someone with a strong enough grasp of mana can drive images straight into another person’s head.”


A little imagination went a long way. Neutralizing someone from a distance. Planting memories that never happened. Killing, if it came to that. Talking about impossibilities in a setting that casually threw around a force like “mana” felt pointless.


“Building resistance here, now, will pay off later. What if a floor turns up where high ambient mana pressure is just the default? You’d have no choice but to take it. Better to train while the opportunity’s in front of you.”


“Hmmmmmm…”


Ji-won was deliberating. I could already tell her mind had tipped toward yes.


“If not now, when? Right?”


“Hmmmmmmmm…”


“You’re good with it? Yeah?”


“…Fine.”


I looked like some married man who’d spent all evening wrangling permission out of his wife but honestly, so what.


“Nice.”


No particular hurry. I finished preparing and regressed.


To understand the thing called “mana.”



[You have taken damage.]


[Returning to the moment of first entry on Floor 17.]






Nothing to see. Nothing to smell. Nothing to touch.


“…”


Wait. Not quite. Even without sight, even without touch, there was one thing I could still feel. Me.


Drifting through a space of perfect emptiness, I could feel my own body. Was it because I had already been through this? Or because my focus was locked on the mana? Either way, something felt off. A space where nothing existed but myself was deeply disorienting.


“How much do you know about yourself?”


Right on cue. A man’s voice, driving straight into my brain like a spike. Alright. This was what I needed to resist. But how, exactly.


“Humans tend to fall into the delusion that no one knows them better than themselves. Ordinarily, that belief is nothing but a phantom. Again: how much do you know about yourself?”


Sound came through ears, so you covered them. Light came through eyes, so you closed them. But mana hammering language directly into the brain? That needed a different answer.


“Nngh…”


I tried wrapping mana around the outside of my body. Around my head. Shifting it in every configuration I could think of. Nothing changed. If anything, the nausea and dizziness only got worse.


Then I remembered something I had somehow managed to forget.


I was not a genius.


“There are hardly any people who fully understand themselves. Are you one of them?”


Its words were almost done. I drove a surge of mana toward my head and tried to form some kind of barrier. The brain was the core of everything, that much seemed logical. But.


“…!”


Dizziness beyond anything I had felt so far. Blood running from my nose. And then,


“…Ah.”


Instant darkness.



[You have taken damage.]


[Returning to the moment of first entry on Floor 17.]






“How much do you know about yourself?”


I covered my ears.


Failed.


“How much do you know about yourself?”


Touching the brain directly was too risky. I tried blocking the entire exterior of my body with mana instead.


Failed.


“How much do you know about yourself?”


Mana was strange. No physical form, and yet pour will into it and it affected reality. Where did that difference come from.


“How much do you know about yourself?”


For that matter, how did a formless power become fire, or ice, or a bolt of lightning? How was any of it possible?


“How much do you know about yourself?”


I didn’t understand mana. And I didn’t really understand myself either. I didn’t even know how regression actually worked. The more I turned it over, the more clearly I saw how much I simply didn’t know.


“How much do you know about yourself?”


“I don’t know…”


“There are hardly any people who fully understand themselves. Are you one of them?”


“I don’t think so…”


The space had grown familiar. Drifting through this blank, borderless void had a strangely addictive quality. I had gotten to the point where I could almost enjoy it. Dizziness aside.


Back to mana.


How did I control it? Not the brain. Not the heart. Anyone who had actually worked with mana knew. The force that moved mana was will.


“How much do you know about yourself?”


So then.


Where did will come from? A chain of chemical reactions in the brain? Or.


“Soul.”


The resonance of the soul.


Soul.


Soul.


Why could I still work with mana easily after every regression? Why did my mana control improve the more cycles I went through?


In this space of nothing, this space where nothing could be felt at all, what was the thing that let me feel myself?


“How much do you know about yourself?”


Slowly, something opened up.


Martial arts had trained my body, and through it I had come to understand it. Regression after regression had given me a grip on my own ego.


But through all of that time, how little thought had I given to my soul. The thing that could actually be called the real me.


“Soul.”


I let the word settle, then closed my eyes. Not my physical eyes. The senses I had been using to feel the space around me. Those, I shut down.


Emptiness made it easier.


Myself, spread through every corner of my body. A thin thread of mana connected to a point near the back of my skull. That thread pulsing. Stirring my mana with every beat.


I didn’t know myself well. But if I didn’t know, I could learn. Even now, it wasn't too late.


Eyes open. The mana thread, severed.


“Ah.”


And then, reality. Wind, moving. Trees, swaying. The pulse of limbs and heart, clear and present.


Satisfying. So that was it.


It wasn’t about blocking my body. Not covering my ears, not shielding my head, not guarding my brain.


Soul.


Only by protecting my soul, spread through every corner of my body, could I defend myself from mana.


After all, why had I been able to work with mana so well from the start? If mana control were tied to the body, the skill would have reset with every regression.


“Phew…”


A slow exhale, and I traced my mana gently along my soul.


Having never seen another person’s soul, I had no real way to evaluate it. Slightly twisted. Slightly scarred. Slightly worn.


But at its core, it shone. Bright enough that the small wounds barely registered against it.


Right. Nobody was perfect. What mattered, looking at the whole, was that I was moving in the right direction.


My direction wasn’t wrong. I hadn’t been corrupted. The path I was walking was correct. Knowing that, while also feeling like I’d come to understand “mana” a little better, left me genuinely satisfied.


Having the path you’d walked validated turned out to be more gratifying than you’d expect.


“Oh, um…”


That satisfaction didn’t last long. Far off, the dignified angel standing guard by the rock was sprinting toward me, and none of its usual composure had made the trip.


“Huh…?”


It arrived winded, swept the area with careful eyes, and found whatever it was looking for nowhere. It checked the players on the ground. Pressed its hands to the earth and the nearby trees. Then, finally, it turned to me.


“Excuse me… climber?”


“Yes?”


“Did anything strange happen here? Space distorting, someone disappearing, maybe some kind of ominous tentacles emerging?”


“…No?”


Nothing of the sort. As far as I could tell, this place was the same as always. A quiet forest, warm and still. Was something wrong?


“Hmmmmm…”


A low, troubled groan. It seemed to resign itself to it, pressed its index and middle fingers to one ear, and began murmuring.


“Um… Administrator? Yes. Yes. I apologize for using this line without authorization. But the thing is… Ah. Not available? I see…”


Clearly talking with a superior, and its expression worsened with every exchange. Something was getting out of hand.


“Yes. I’ll wait. Yes…”


The call ended. A beat later, a clean white light bloomed in the air, and an angel in glasses with a stern, exacting expression stepped into view.


“Good to meet you. I am the archangel’s representative and administrative angel.”


“…Administrative angel? Is that an official position?”


“Positions and organizational structures vary by archangel, so I couldn’t say for certain. Excuse me for a moment.”


The administrative angel studied me carefully while rapidly tapping at something invisible in the air, then tilted its head side to side as though it couldn’t make sense of what it was reading.


“Hm? Hm?”


Its blank expression slowly turned grim. The original angel, which hadn’t looked cheerful to begin with, went the color of ash.


“Ugh… of all the times for this…”


“What? What’s going on?”


“So… you’re the problem, climber.”


“…I’m the problem?”


“Yes.”


The administrative angel nodded, visibly pained.


“The current system reading shows that you have not yet entered Floor 17.”


“…Pardon?”


“Exactly as you heard. According to the system, you cleared Floor 16 and then simply never entered Floor 17.”


It scratched the back of its head. I didn’t follow, so I asked again.


“What… does that mean?”


“It means that even if we wanted to open a clear portal back to Floor 1 for you, we can’t. As far as the system is concerned, you never entered Floor 17 to begin with.”


“…Does that even make sense?”


“I honestly don’t know…”


What was this supposed to mean.





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