WeTried Translations
Translator: ZEROSUGAR
Editor: Abstract
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 344: Ruin (5)
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They say only someone who's eaten rice cakes before knows how to eat them well, and only someone who's regressed before knows how to regress well.
"...Hnngh."
I adapted to my strengthened body much faster and more smoothly than before. I'd spent all my time last cycle just adapting, so if I couldn't do it again, I'd be an idiot. A complete idiot.
So by the time the third day came around, I was able to move my body properly, and once I'd adapted, I started noticing things I hadn't seen before.
"Huh."
The Hero's mana, spread wide across all of Floor 29. And the hostility radiating from that mana.
My guess was that she wasn't actually trying to kill me. It was more like a simple warning. That warning just happened to be terrifyingly intense.
So from the Hero's perspective, she'd kindly given me a warning and hadn't even attacked first. Meanwhile I'd gone marching toward her tent spewing mana out in thick streams, completely oblivious. From her point of view, it probably looked like I was picking a fight and begging to get killed.
"Jun-ho. Does picking a fight really justify killing someone?"
"...Sorry."
Had my whole way of thinking gotten more violent just because my field of view had changed? Either way, I pulled myself together and cautiously stepped into the tent. This time with my mana fully reined in.
"Phew."
But would reining in my mana actually make me look harmless to the Hero? Wasn't there a chance she'd look at me and think, what is this bastard, and just refuse to acknowledge me anyway?
To prepare for that possibility, I had a trump card ready.
"HelloHero-nimactuallyI'vebeenforciblystrengthenedforreasonsoutsidemycontrolsomycontrolofmyownstrengthisstillroughIhavenointentionwhatsoeveroffightingifyoucouldjustacknowledgemetodayortomorrowI'llleaveFloor29asfastaspossiblethankyou."
This way, there was no reason for the Hero to pick a fight. She wasn't the type to make the first move anyway. If she'd been the type to start something even after I bowed my head like this, she would've already started something long ago.
"..."
My strategy actually seemed to work, because a message appeared on my status window telling me I'd been acknowledged by the Hero. She didn't respond out loud, but I figured this counted as mutual agreement.
"Thank you."
Thanks to that, a day passed, and I was able to return to reality. Time to go find the President.
* * *
"Sorry, I—"
"Leave."
"...Wait, is it possible—"
"You regressed. I know. Just go."
"...Understood."
The moment I got back to reality, I sent Michael Zetter home, since he'd been waiting outside my place. I was pretty sure I'd blown up at Zetter last cycle, and sure enough, he hadn't regressed. It didn't seem like my emotions were the problem. As I'd suspected, it was probably because Zetter's emotions had thinned out.
If that was the case, had the President's emotions thinned out the same way? That didn't seem right either. The President I'd seen at the White House hadn't looked much different from an ordinary person. No dulled emotions, no failure to understand what I was saying. Neither of those applied.
But if he had his memories and still didn't listen to me, how was I supposed to interpret that?
"Why would he do that?"
Frankly, I couldn't wrap my head around it. He'd clearly seemed to understand me. So why? Why wouldn't he listen?
I hadn't promised to forgive him outright, but this was still a win-win outcome for both of us, wasn't it? Was he trying to go all the way now that he'd already earned my resentment? Wasn't that an incredibly stupid way to think?
"No. That can't be it."
A country's president couldn't possibly be that stupid. It didn't add up logically. Which meant some factor I hadn't accounted for was behind the result of "the regressor's proposal got ignored"...
Well, was there any point thinking about it more?
"Let's go see him."
Better to just ask directly than sit here agonizing over it alone.
* * *
"Oh, you're already here? We're not quite ready yet... but a happy miscalculation, I'd say."
The White House I visited again wasn't much different from before. The security detail checked my face and let me in, and the President welcomed me with a broad, cheerful smile.
"Have you lost your mind?"
I couldn't understand it. Did the current situation look like some kind of joke to him? Why was he acting like nothing had happened?
"Give me a reason."
"...Sorry?"
"I said, give me a reason."
"...?"
The President looked genuinely startled. Only then did I realize something odd was going on.
"You don't remember, do you?"
"...Remember what, exactly?"
"Good god."
Was he acting? No. There was no way to deceive me in my current strengthened state, and there was zero reason for him to act anyway. The President had nothing to gain from it. So what was the problem? His emotions? Hmm. I was pretty sure my own emotions had been intense enough. So why?
"Something... did something go wrong?"
Seeing my grave expression, lost in thought, the President seemed to realize the situation had gotten tangled. Well, it had already been tangled to begin with, so "more tangled" was probably the more accurate way to put it.
What was the reason. Where had it gone wrong. What was it. What was the problem. If there was a problem...
"Mr. President."
Soul.
"Let's go take a look at that book together."
There was no other explanation.
* * *
This was the first time I'd seen the actual Book of Truth in person. It looked incredibly antique, and enormous, like something out of an old story... it wouldn't have looked out of place sitting in a museum display case.
"So. How exactly do you use this thing."
"That would be..."
The President still couldn't figure out why I was acting like this and remained thoroughly confused, and honestly, I was confused too. Even with how much stronger I'd gotten, I couldn't feel anything in particular from the book.
From what I'd heard, this book could supposedly answer "anything at all." Which meant the book probably wasn't lacking in any way. My own level was too low to perceive it properly. Well, whatever the case, I got the sense this thing was end-game boss tier.
Anyway, following the President's guidance, I picked up a large gold bar and called out.
"Book. Why didn't joint regression work on the President?"
According to Zetter, the book was endlessly generous when it came to questions about its basic rules. So I figured a gold bar this size would count as an acceptable sacrifice.
"..."
"Hey. Why won't you answer?"
"That would be..."
For some reason, the book gave no response at all. I'd heard that this enormous book would suddenly flip open with a rustling sound, revealing pages covered in text. But it showed no sign of budging.
"Not enough with the gold bar?"
Pushing the President any further felt like bullying an elderly politician, which didn't sit right with me, and since the man in front of me had no idea why I was even angry, it felt pointless to snap at him too. So I was mulling it over on my own when—
Rustle!
□He belongs to me.□
The book finally opened. Written boldly across the page: "The President belongs to me." It hadn't even taken the gold bar in my hand. Wait, so it could answer without a sacrifice after all?
"What do you mean, belongs to you. His soul?"
□That is correct.□
"..."
So the President's soul had already been offered to the book. And because of that, "joint regression" hadn't triggered.
To begin with, my joint regression wasn't even a listed ability on my status window, and I'd only figured out its conditions through trial and error, so I wasn't really in a position to complain, but...
"What does his soul belonging to you have to do with whether my joint regression triggers...?"
I couldn't really follow the book's logic here. That's one thing, this is another, aren't they separate? I gave the book a look full of that exact doubt.
□It is because the roots are the same.□
"...The roots are the same?"
□That is correct.□
"Roots... roots..."
Come to think of it, the book had said it wasn't affected by my regression. Now that I thought about it, it seemed to have some kind of self-awareness too... and on Floor 23, or was it 24, there had been ghosts that weren't affected by my regression either. Was this the same kind of thing?
"Then let me ask—"
Clack.
There was more I wanted to ask, but the book snapped shut as if it had already told me everything it was going to. No matter how much I talked to it, coaxed it, pleaded with it, it showed no sign of opening again. Since it wasn't affected by regression, there wasn't much point coming back to try again either.
"Ugh, my head hurts."
Either way, I'd figured out the current situation. The President hadn't ignored what I said, his memory just hadn't carried over in the first place. And I'd confirmed that anyone whose soul had been offered to the book was immune to my joint regression.
So what now. Actually, there was still a method left.
"...I just need to make someone else regress instead."
If the President himself was impossible to reach, I could make some other trustworthy person regress and have them deliver my message to him. Whether that person could actually reach the President was a whole separate problem, though.
Someone I could trust, and who could somehow get close enough to the President...
"...Dok Su-hee?"
Hard to say. I wasn't sure. I didn't know if I could fully trust Dok Su-hee, and to begin with, she never came back to reality. Which meant she couldn't satisfy the conditions for regression.
Anyone else... the Grim Reaper? Thanks to Stealth, he could probably reach the President, but whether I could trust him was another matter entirely. Or Park Cheol-jin? Kang Chan?
If I picked a companion for joint regression now, I'd be stuck with that person all the way to the end. Even if I stopped the President's plan, the memories would carry over regardless. I had to be careful. Extremely careful.
"..."
Right. Let's leave that as a last resort. There were still other options left to try.
For now, regress. And then.
"Hero-nim."
"..."
"Would you happen to have any secret little confessions you'd like to share with me?"
Time to work on the Hero.
Footnotes:
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