WeTried Translations

Translator: ZEROSUGAR

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 327: The past (6)

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Right after Kim Jun-ho fought the tiger, right before he felt his lack of strength and decided to regress. William Smith was wearing his own body down to heal people, madmen were seizing the chaos to feed their own desires, and even so, the majority twisted themselves into knots trying to hold the line of order.

At this point in time, part of Michael Zetter's plan leaked to a few players. Not to the public. The story leaked to a genuine handful of top-tier players. The source... let's just say it came out of the White House.

Whatever the case, one player who heard Zetter's plan had this to say.

"Isn't that guy a psycho?"

The player, who asked to remain anonymous, twirled a finger next to their temple, saying Zetter's head had come loose.

"The way I see it, it's obvious why that bastard suspects there's a 'time traveler.' He couldn't do it on Floor 4, but someone else did. Two people, even. He must've figured it didn't make sense unless they'd traveled through time. Someone pulls off something he couldn't, so they must've seen the future? What a total moron."

The word choice was a little harsh, but that only proved how seriously he meant it. In response, another player said this.

"I think... suspicion is reasonable. There's no limit to what traits the Tower can grant, and a time-travel trait could plausibly exist. But setting a trap to catch it... that's hard to understand. People are dying right now. Does something like that really matter more?"

Let me be honest. This was a rumor the President spread to pin the blame on Zetter. Either way, what mattered was that the trap itself was a choice ordinary people found hard to understand. It was the kind of stunt born from one man drunk on the omnipotence the Book granted, and one gifted individual who trusted himself far too much.

To put it in a metaphor, it was a trap set to catch a unicorn. No one even knew if unicorns existed, and whether the trap would actually catch one was anyone's guess. But if you pictured the head of a nation and the head of an international organization joining forces to hunt a unicorn, it became easier to understand. Yes. It was completely insane.

But.

"Ji-won-ah. Let's regress."

Because a regressor genuinely existed.

[You have taken damage.]

The story changes.

[Returning to the moment of first entry on Floor 15.]

* * *

Time runs backward.

The regressor climbs the Tower to gain strength. Passing through Floor 16, Floor 17, clearing Floor 18. Heading to America.

"Will this actually work?"

"It will work. I'm certain of it."

The memory of that crushing failure had long since vanished. Michael Zetter and the President sat watching a camera feed inside the secret research facility where the Book was kept. If a regressor truly existed, they would fall into the trap today.

"I... don't fully understand it."

The President let out a sigh.

"You're saying that reality can change just because we decide, in our minds, how we'll act in the future?"

"You have to genuinely intend to follow through. If nothing happens right now, then it means you genuinely intended to."

"...This is hard."

The President hadn't been able to focus on politics lately. The pile of matters needing attention had grown mountainous, but he'd handed nearly all of it to the Vice President, pouring his own attention into this regressor issue instead. Still, it was true he didn't quite trust it.

Deciding how you'll act in the future changes the present right now? Logically it wasn't wrong, but it was hard to accept all the same.

"So, if no one shows up today..."

"Then I'll proceed with the plan I mentioned. We wait it out, then spread the rumor into the future. That would mean the regressor hasn't regressed yet."

"Hmph..."

The President who had once drowned in a sense of omnipotence, convinced he could do anything, no longer existed. Holding back from using the Book to set this trap had slowly brought the President back to his senses, and the thought that he might be doing something insane had gradually crept back in. That he later tried to stab Zetter in the back was probably because of that same awareness.

But that future no longer existed.

"Hah... I should've bought some donuts. Can't exactly tell my secretary to bring them here..."

"Mr. President."

"If I at least had a cup of coffee..."

"Mr. President."

"Wh-what is it?"

"Someone's here."

"Really... is there really a time traveler? Really?"

Two figures entered the narrow corridor. The camera was tiny, coated and filtered to cut down glare, so the picture quality wasn't great, but it was clear enough to make out faces.

"They're... they're wearing masks. Heh. Heheheh..."

"..."

"Looks like a man and a woman... Zetter? What's wrong?"

The President, thoroughly worked up over the situation, was breathing hard, but Zetter had gone quiet instead.

The President couldn't identify the masked man and woman, but Michael Zetter's senses recognized Choi Ji-won and Kim Jun-ho instantly. Height, build, even the way they walked. All of it matched perfectly.

Yes. He'd known it would be like this. If a regressor existed, he'd been certain it would be those two. Zetter felt a small satisfaction at being right, the kind of feeling an ordinary human might call elation.

"Chairman."

The President, legs trembling as he watched the camera, called out to Zetter, suddenly afraid.

"We... won't get caught, will we? If we earn their resentment, then my life..."

"I've confirmed it. Even my senses couldn't detect the equipment."

"Well, if that's the case..."

Players were skilled at detecting mana or the presence of another person, but surprisingly, they struggled to pick up on tiny mechanical devices. Especially when the device made almost no operating sound. Unless someone was specifically searching for a "hidden device," it was indistinguishable from ordinary ambient noise.

Senses honed too sharp automatically filtered out unwanted noise, and Zetter had turned that against them. That was exactly why neither Michael Zetter nor Choi Ji-won had been able to spot the tiny camera.

-No one's here?

-Really?

-Yeah. I even tried with mana. There's really nothing.

While the President and Zetter deliberated, Choi Ji-won and Kim Jun-ho reached the spot where the warehouse should have been. They looked plainly bewildered at the sight of the empty warehouse, then started talking about something.

"What are they saying?"

"I don't know."

Reading lips was impossible with the masks on, and preparing a microphone was out of the question given how conspicuous the two of them already looked.

The regressor's existence had been proven. The mere fact that they stood here, now, in this place, was proof enough.

So then, again. How would they record this fact? Time was about to move backward. Where would they preserve the knowledge that a regressor had existed?

Zetter and the President had arrived at an answer. They intended to solve it by leaving an extremely tiny mark on the Book's cover, so small it required a microscope to see. The Book had answered that it stood outside the flow of time itself, and any mark left on it would remain forever.

If they left the mark now. Even if time turned backward, the mark would remain at the agreed location. That would make a record possible. That would make it possible to remember that a regressor had existed.

But why. Why couldn't they act? Why weren't they offering the sacrifice to the Book right now?

Because they lacked certainty. They lacked the certainty needed to pour the entire future of the United States into the Book.

Certainty that time would actually turn back, right now. Certainty that those two weren't some kind of precognitives or mind controllers. If time turned back, they could offer everything and it would be worth it. But if it didn't? They'd be flushing America's future down the drain.

Certainty. A tiny shred of proof. A stepping stone they could act on...

-Whew, it's hot.

And in the next moment, Kim Jun-ho pulled off his mask.

-No. Even if we contact them, let's do it after we regress. Contacting them right now would look way too suspicious.

"Wh-what did he say?"

"It's Korean. Offer the sacrifice right now. He's the regressor. I'm certain."

Kim Jun-ho had mentioned "Regression." Zetter, who had already finished Adaptation to Korean, could read Kim Jun-ho's lips clearly. Certainty had been granted. Now was the time to act.

"...Prepare it!"

The President swallowed hard and gave the order to his researchers. In one section of the secret research facility stood a massive warehouse, and gathered inside it were every single Tower "item" the United States had ever purchased, along with all the gold bullion the banks held. Ah, and a fair number of culturally priceless artifacts borrowed from museums as well.

For this day, the President had burned through most of the political capital he'd accumulated. The items had always been under his control, sure, but "temporarily relocating" gold and cultural artifacts was never going to be easy. Doing it without getting caught made it even harder. Only a President with power strong enough to be called the master of Earth could have pulled off a feat like this.

The President had staked everything. That was what a nation's gold reserves represented. Trust. And the future. The President was betting it all right now. It was an obvious crime, but this wasn't the time to worry about that. The regressor was right there in front of them.

"Book! I offer everything gathered here! So permit me to leave a tiny mark on your cover, in the location I desire!"

Everything scraped together by the mightiest nation on Earth. Whether judged by ritual weight or by monetary value, gold and treasure of a value almost too vast to speak aloud. The President declared that he would offer all of it.

□...□

The Book... did not answer. It didn't even stir.

"Wh-why..."

The reason was obvious. The quantity of the sacrifice... was insufficient.

"..."

The worst-case scenario Zetter had dreaded most had arrived. The Book had endlessly emphasized its own nobility, and he'd known leaving a mark on something that noble wouldn't be easy. But that even this wasn't enough...

The regressor. And the Book. To influence something tied to time... even an entire nation offering everything it had wasn't enough. Thousands of tons of gold bullion, priceless cultural relics, items pulled from the Tower itself. Even the mightiest nation humanity had, it still couldn't reach a transcendent existence.

"Failure... is that it."

The President sank down where he stood. He'd committed countless acts of overreach and impropriety to move the gold here, to smuggle out the cultural artifacts. This blow would be hard to recover from. (This was one reason public opinion of the President would later collapse.)

-Should we just regress now? If we go all the way back to the city and it comes out that we were here, and they grill us about it, that could get annoying. This future's already locked in anyway, so gathering more info can wait until after we're back in the past.

-Yeah. I think that's right too. You regressing right now?

-Yeah. That's the plan.

Whatever they were saying, Zetter stayed locked on the camera. In time flowing ten times slower than for anyone else, he agonized over the question again and again.

They kept casually mentioning the word "regression." It was certain now that time was about to turn back. No, was it really certain?

"...It's certain."

Every one of his senses screamed it. Time turning back was certain. Whatever happened, it was certain to be undone. They had already finished preparing to regress. Choi Ji-won had even closed her eyes.

Zetter's mind, the mind of Michael Zetter who had fully completed Adaptation to advanced cognitive processing that let him stretch one second into ten, recalled an experiment from the past.

-I'll offer that watch.

-Wh-what, my watch...!

-Sorry about that. I honestly didn't think it would actually work as a sacrifice.

-That's my watch... how could...

-I suppose it's because I outrank you. I'll buy you the same model again.

-Ngh... well, if that's how it is...

He'd played it off as a mistake. But it had clearly been a deliberate experiment. The Book... had permitted a "superior" to offer up a "subordinate's" belongings. Their consent hadn't been required at all. It simply worked, if he willed it.

"Book."

And now. Right before time turned back. Zetter wanted to try one more, somewhat "aggressive" experiment.

"I, Chairman of the World Player Association. Michael Zetter, guardian of all Earthlings, make this request. Permit me to leave a small mark on your cover. I offer everything in this warehouse. And if even that is not enough."

Whatever happened would be undone. No one would remember. It went against the trivial rule of morality, but.

"I offer the lives of every American, myself excluded."

□It has been done.□

This was the efficient method.

Footnotes:

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