WeTried Translations

Translator: ZEROSUGAR

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 321: The regressor... (5)

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-You have entered Floor 26.

Floor 26, home to shops and the halfway checkpoint for players. In the past, I used to take in the sight of this chaotic yet sprawling floor every time I entered, but this time, my condition was bad enough that I went straight to looking for Ji-won.

"...Ji-won."

"You're here? Let's hurry."

Choi Ji-won moved, supporting me again. Maybe it was because Choi Ji-won was warmly supporting an unfamiliar man, but I could feel the players' stares gathering on us.

No, today the stares felt especially sharp. Most players already knew Choi Ji-won, it seemed, so they didn't pay her much attention, and instead a lot more of them were staring intently at me.

"Jun-ho, are you using mana right now, by any chance?"

"...No. But honestly, I can't even tell whether I'm using it or not. I might be, for all I know."

"Really? It's just... my chest feels tight. I thought maybe it was your mana."

The number of eyes on us kept growing as time passed. They seemed reluctant to provoke us, since they weren't whispering among themselves or making any loud noise, just watching from a distance with a player's sharp eyesight.

Some from dozens of kilometers away. Some hidden inside buildings. Some pretending to close their eyes for a nap. They were all pretending not to, but truly, "every" player seemed to be watching us.

The atmosphere felt genuinely eerie. On this normally so quiet Floor 26, everyone on this floor was watching us. Not a single word, no movement, just watching. It felt like we'd become something beyond a zoo monkey, something more.

"...Let's go."

No, this was an overreaction. My senses were clearly still off. Realistically, there was no way someone dozens of kilometers away was actually staring at us.

Once we reached the shop, we started searching for items that might help me. Since we'd been fairly successful clearing floors so far, we had a large stockpile of contribution ranking and plenty of things we could afford to buy.

A diagnostic device that analyzed body condition in detail, a compass that pointed toward a doctor capable of curing illnesses...

"..."

Of course, none of it worked. Given that their grade was lower than an Elixir, it was arguably expected, but the results themselves were a problem too.

"...I'm healthy?"

Every item we spent our expensive contribution ranking on kept returning the same result: that I was healthy. With my head pounding like this, dizzy like this, nauseated like this. With my vision going haywire like this. And I was healthy?

This probably wasn't a genuine indication that I was healthy, more likely just a sign that the items themselves weren't high-grade enough. Something... something had clearly gone wrong.

Whatever the case, we came away with nothing. No further oddities occurred either.

"Please just wait a little longer!"

Ah, the angel from Floor 28 came to visit us too. The angel from the floor where the Heavenly Demon had been, I mean.

He kept thanking us over and over, insisting he would arrange a reward soon, please just wait a little longer, before finally leaving. He seemed to be a fairly high-ranking angel, capable of traveling between floors, and his eyes were full of determination to make sure we got a proper reward.

Yeah, a reward. Nice. Even nicer if it was some liquid that could heal me. Come to think of it, we hadn't even gotten an Elixir as a reward on Floor 28, so maybe this could make up for that. I'd appreciate anything at all.

"..."

Anyway. In the end, we returned to reality without any real solution. A kind of strategic retreat.

"Jun-ho, how's your body?"

"It seems like... it might slowly be getting a little better."

Maybe the Hero had been telling the truth, because the pain and dizziness were very slowly fading. My bodily senses were still going haywire, but the fact that it hurt "less" was genuinely a relief. It was only a slight improvement now, but maybe I'd fully recover eventually.

"Then now let's—"

"You need to eat something when you're this weak. I'll order some porridge, so lie down for now."

"Thanks."

From here on, we decided to take our time and rest, keeping close watch on my condition. Visit William Smith later too, get some advice here and there... we decided on "recuperation" instead of just "rest." Given how bad my condition already was, the moment I lay down on the bed, my eyes closed on their own.

"Huh? Why's this glitching so much—"

Closing your eyes usually makes sounds clearer. But right now... it was quiet. Not just our room, but for some reason, outside too. All I could hear at most were the sounds of wild animals. Human sounds were bizarrely scarce.

Was it because it was nighttime? But Korea is usually louder at night. Ji-won had pulled out her phone and was muttering that it wasn't working, tilting her head in confusion, loud enough that I could hear it clearly.

The tap-tap of fingers on the screen. A bird flying overhead. A cat meowing. And then.

—Thud. Thud. Thud.

A steady sound coming from the direction of the front door. There was no chance to rest at all. Someone was knocking on the front door. A package? No way. Delivery? I hadn't even ordered anything yet.

"I'll go check."

"...No, I'll go."

At first, Ji-won said she'd go look. But I felt a pull that told me I needed to go myself, so I dragged my aching body toward the front door.

—Creak.

The door opened. Complete darkness lay outside. Usually there'd at least be streetlight glow, or the hallway lights on. But the hallway light seemed broken, unlit, and even the streetlights outside were dark.

Blending with the eerie silence outside, a chilling desolation hung heavy in the air. No, calling it ominous would be more accurate.

And right at the center of all that ominous feeling.

"...Jun-ho-nim."

Michael Zetter stood there. Michael Zetter, president of the Player Association and one of the most important people in America.

He stood there in shabby clothes, hair disheveled, face frozen stiff.

"..."

Zetter, his eyes trembling as he scanned me and everything behind me.

—Bow.

He bent forward until the top of his head showed.

"No, wait. Why are you here all of a sudden—"

"By any chance. Have you checked your phone."

"...No. Is there something I need to check—"

"I'd rather you didn't check it. And before that, I'd like you to hear me out first. May I come inside?"

"..."

Even through the pain, I stood there gaping blankly.

Up until now, Michael Zetter's visits had always been scheduled in advance. He'd arrange a time through email or something, and Zetter would always arrive exactly on time, at exactly the agreed place.

This was different. He hadn't scheduled anything in advance, hadn't even contacted us at all beforehand. And that's not all. We had literally just returned from Floor 26. Meaning we had arrived at this studio apartment truly "just now."

We'd "just" gotten back, and by pure coincidence, the president of the world's largest organization had shown up at my apartment at that exact moment? Did that even make sense?

On top of that, I had never told Zetter where my studio apartment was. We always met at Ji-won's place, I never even said a single word about my own apartment.

Sure, he was the Player Association president, a major figure in America, he probably could have found out. I don't think even the US president or the Korean president would be unaware of where we lived. Choi Ji-won came and went from here often enough, so I figured he'd at least tracked that much down. And the reason he never directly bothered us was probably because he considered the backlash. (They also didn't know how strong I really was.)

But if that were true, if he really wanted to avoid provoking Choi Ji-won and me, he shouldn't have come here directly like this. This was an enormous breach of etiquette, and an act that shattered trust.

"Come in."

I figured it had to be something important enough to risk that kind of rudeness. At the very least, I trusted the man named Michael Zetter. I believed his claims of working for humanity, believed what he'd shown me, believed in the person that was Zetter. So, I willingly opened up the space of my studio apartment to him.

"Thank you."

Zetter stepped straight inside. He didn't even take off his shoes. Mostly because he wasn't wearing any to begin with.

"Hff."

His feet were dirty with all kinds of grime, but they turned instantly clean the moment he crossed the threshold. It seemed to be the effect of his trait.

"I don't even know how to begin telling you this."

"No, seriously, what happened that you're telling me not to check my phone?"

"...I'll explain. I'll explain everything."

"But."

"There's one condition."

Michael Zetter spoke with an attitude, a voice, an expression I had never seen from him before.

"This is a notebook you can obtain on Floor 24."

"Oh, the one that catches fire if you lie..."

"That's right. Everything I say from this point on will be the truth. There will be no lies."

"..."

"So... please, I ask that you hear me out to the end. Until I finish speaking. Please stay focused on what I say. This is my only condition."

Ji-won glanced at me. A gesture leaving the choice to me.

My condition kept worsening too, but Michael Zetter, the Player Association president, showing up like this, in such an urgent, rude manner, for the first time ever, made me nod. I figured there had to be a valid reason behind it.

"Thank you."

Michael Zetter bowed his head again.

"From here on, I need to... talk about something that happened a while back. No, quite a long time ago."

The voice of Zetter, a man who possessed the "Adaptation" ability, was.

"I need to talk about... the past."

Trembling with fear. Regret. And guilt.

Footnotes:

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