WeTried Translations
Translator: ZERO_SUGAR
Editor: Abstract
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Regression is Too Much
Chapter 004
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Regression is too weak (4)
“…Shit.”
I really thought I might last longer this time.
Just when I was about to squeeze some crucial information out of the pony-tailed woman, I blinked and the rewind yanked me back.
Rushing her was the fatal mistake. She looked touchy from the start. I should have taken it slow.
“Greetings, lowly humans cheerfully wasting your lives! Lovely to meet you!”
Still, it is fine. I have plenty of chances. All I must do is get out of here before the endless rewinds drive me insane.
In the last loop, I did literally nothing except swing a sword. If I grit my teeth and endure the hunger, recreating the same situation will not be hard.
“The System will handle the details, tutorial start!”
The fairy dropped the weapons and popped away with its trademark sound.
I grabbed a random blade and compared to before, my grip felt much steadier. My stance seemed reasonably balanced too.
People really do learn.
Whoosh.
As a test I sliced the air. The arc was not perfect, but at least it was not sloppy.
Satisfied. My effort was not wasted.
“Uh, excuse me…?”
A nervous man tapped my shoulder.
“You look like you can handle that sword. Could you teach us a bit?”
Apparently my posture looked solid even to others, and that warmed my pride. Keeping my face stern, I slowly shook my head.
“Sorry. I am nowhere near good enough to instruct anyone.”
Strictly speaking that was true. I had maybe ten hours of practice. But in their eyes it would be different.
“Come on, don’t be like that. We all fell into this Tower together. We should help each other.”
Because the tutorial rules had not appeared yet, the man was still searching for human solidarity.
“Hmm…”
I pretended to think, then gave a small nod.
“Fine. If it is only the absolute basics, I can help.”
“Oh, thank you…”
“But I have a condition.”
“…A condition?”
Click.
I pointed at his light jacket with my fingertip.
“Outer layer. Hand it over to me.”
“…My jacket? It is warm here anyway, so I planned to take it off…”
Puzzled, he removed it and passed it to me.
“The rest of you as well, please.”
From five people in total I gathered clothing.
That should do.
“All right, this is the basic stance. Put your stronger hand forward on the grip…”
I taught as earnestly as I could, yet the men only cocked their heads in confusion.
Small wonder. I barely knew anything myself. One man scratched his head and stepped closer.
“Um… could you explain a bit more—”
“Sta-tus-win-dowwwww!”
“Huh?”
Right then the status-window guy hollered, pulling all attention his way. I used the distraction to wrap the jackets round my legs, arms and neck.
Good thing I had slept in long sleeves and pants. They already covered most of my skin.
“…Ugh.”
Swathed like a mummy from the extremities up, I looked ridiculous. Over there firefighter Park Cheol-jin clicked his tongue at me.
Probably thinking, are kids these days all idiots?
In this get-up I could not even hold a weapon, much less run. A jacket stuffed into my shoes made every step awkward.
But that is fine. I am a regressor.
I carefully parted the grass wall and walked out of the clearing.
“Oh…”
Wrapping myself seems to be working, no hint of a rewind.
The problem is, it is roasting hot.
The grass dragged at me and each step eats energy, while the clothes seal in every ounce of body heat.
On top of that, this place is warm to begin with.
Perfect conditions for overheating.
Sweat rolled down my forehead, but I could not stop. After maybe thirty minutes of trudging,
“Grrrk… kyeeek…”
A faint cry drifted from somewhere in the tall grass. Like a child who smokes three packs a day clawing his throat.
“A goblin.”
It was unmistakably a goblin’s rasp. Just then a message window floated up in front of me.
<Tutorial Stage>
-Clear Condition 1: If you swallow a Golden Marble hidden somewhere in the forest, you may proceed to the next stage. Only fifty Golden Marbles exist.
-Clear Condition 2: If you defeat the boss, the Goblin Shaman, a portal to the next stage will appear.
Since the boss is a Goblin Shaman, ordinary goblins must be around too.
My first real fight, and the enemy is a goblin. Time to prove that all the sweat I shed was not for nothing.
I reached to draw my sword…
Reached…
“Oh.”
I had not brought the sword. I left it on the ground while mummifying myself in clothes.
All I had were Doraemon-style mitten fists wrapped in fabric.
“…”
Engaging now would be unwise.
I tried to skirt the cries and move on, but
“Kyaaack!”
“Waaah!”
Something burst from the brush.
“Shit!”
A set of razor teeth lunged at me.
“Back off, damn you!”
Instinctively I swung one wrapped fist and knocked the thing aside. No feedback through the clothes, but the shove worked.
“Kyeek! Kueeek!”
Grass green, body green, no wonder I missed him. A goblin.
In reality the creature was far uglier and creepier than I imagined.
Wrinkled skin everywhere, blood and unknown meat stuck between its teeth, eyes brimming with malice…
“Die!”
I stomped on its chest as it lay fallen.
Crunch.
“Keeeeee!”
Like snapping a bundle of reeds, its ribs shattered.
It twitched once or twice and lay still.
“…Is it dead?”
I nudged the body with my toe. No reaction.
Then,
Fsssss.
Particles of light gathered above it, forming a tiny hexagon mosaic, then flashed out. Where the glow had hovered, a small wooden box remained.
With my bundled hands I clumsily picked it up. God, these wrappings are annoying.
“Bwuh, bweeeh.”
Using my tongue I managed to pry the lid. Inside was…
“…Lip balm?”
A cheap stick of lip balm.
Was the goblin too weak, or are monster rewards always this pathetic?
I stared at the balm with ice-cold eyes when…
“Kyeeeek!”
Another goblin shot from the brush. It must have heard the death cries.
“You are slow.”
I dodged its fangs fairly smoothly, but…
“Kyeek!”
“Kihihihih!”
Another one flanked me from behind. They had set up a pincer.
I twisted hard, trying to slip the second lunge, but
Shrrrip.
Claws raked my side.
“Ah.”
[You have taken damage.]
[Returning to the moment of first entry on Floor 0.]
I tried again, carrying the sword with me this time. Using only my fists had been easier.
The blade was impossible to handle with mitten fists.
[You have taken damage.]
[Returning to the moment of first entry on Floor 0.]
Next attempt, I gathered companions.
I claimed I had grass allergies, which explained the wrappings, and they barely bought it.
Results were the same.
When six goblins charged at once, coming out unscathed was impossible.
[You have taken damage.]
[Returning to the moment of first entry on Floor 0.]
“Fuck! Fuuuuuuuuck!”
Goblins are weak.
Weaker than a five-year-old child.
Brittle bones, no real weapons, just teeth and claws, and those are not even very sharp.
A monster perfectly suited for the tutorial. Any adult with fighting spirit could stomp one.
Yet, to me, they felt like a mountain range.
Goblins are relentless.
Even on the brink of death they flail and they work out crude tactics to ambush people.
Goblins are many.
They swarm from every side. Winning without being hit is impossible.
Goblins are small.
In this towering grass you hardly notice them until the strike is already coming.
All excuses.
The real reason is simple. I am not strong enough to win without taking a wound. If rewinds did not exist, I would vault this grass in a heartbeat.
I would laugh, saying, “This scratch is nothing.”
The entire problem is the absurdly sensitive rewind. Because of it, I cannot leave the tutorial before my tutorial—this clearing.
“…”
That leaves two options.
First, keep smashing myself against the goblin grass. Challenge, die and repeat until the day I succeed.
But there is a fatal catch.
The sword is hard to use against goblins. The wrappings, the tall grass—everything interferes.
It is the worst place to improve my blade work.
Second option.
Whoosh. Whoosh.
My eyes drifted to the pony-tailed woman who kept swinging her sword without pause. Somehow, make friends with her.
Footnotes:
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