WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ SSS-Class Revival Hunter ◈

Chapter 51: After the Ending (2)

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“Now you need to give more thought to where you stand and what affiliation you want!” the Witch said.

She continued to hit my forearm with the rolled-up newspaper bundle. Thump! Thump! Her excitement was palpable.

"My future?"

"Yes. Right now, you're a member of all five major guilds. But you're effectively independent. Considering how well things have gone, it might be good for you to establish your own guild."

The Witch laughed pleasantly.

"A hunter ranked third should at least hold a title like 'Guild Master.' Even if you're a member of all five major guilds, just being an ordinary guild member doesn’t really fit the bill."

It was hard to grasp the reality.

"Guild Master?"

Me, leading a guild? It was unimaginable. Did I even need to control hunters when I had an army of skeletons?

"Well."

Noticing my reluctance, the Witch shrugged. In the background, the Sword Saint watched silently.

"Perhaps you're more suited for solo play, like the old man here. There are surprisingly many who dream of smashing everything alone. If you’re not interested, I won’t press the issue."

"Oh. Are you talking behind my back now?" the Sword Saint interjected.

"Ignoring that," the Witch continued, turning her head.

"What are those?"

Across the Acacia forest path, in the small plain, the continental soldiers were constructing something. A camp. They had given up on attacking Preta's paradise, opting to rest here today before retreating.

"Ah."

I rubbed my chin.

"Those soldiers are from all over the continent."

"From all over the continent?"

"As I was saying…"

I explained, leaving out the story about Preta. I only told them how I deceived the continental army.

The Witch and the Sword Saint listened, their expressions growing more peculiar as I spoke. The Witch's comment summed up their thoughts.

"King of Death… you have quite the talent for lying."

"Well, thanks to that, we cleared it without shedding any blood."

"No, I’m not criticizing. Actually, it's impressive."

The Witch's eyes narrowed, like a shrewd merchant devising a cunning plan.

"Now we can trade with this continent. No more groveling to the old folks outside. Those bastards are always using food to lowball us. Let us see whether they can keep doing that now."

Resentment flowed from her voice.

"Fundamentally, trade between the Tower and the outside world is unfair," the Sword Saint added.

"Capital, resources, technology - the outside world is richer in everything. Though the Tower has unique ingredients and elixirs not found outside…"

"Food! It’s always about food!"

The Witch stamped her foot.

At first, I had thought she was taciturn. Perhaps it was because the three of us had cleared floors twelve through nineteen together, but she had become far more expressive around us. That must mean we had grown that much closer.

"We're going to start trading with these continental people?"

"Yes? Of course. The outside world needs to taste bitterness too."

"Then."

I grinned.

Pointing to the encampment on the plains, I said, "We'll have to start talking to them. But just saying 'Let’s trade' won’t work. To them, we are foreigners, and to us, they are from another world."

"True."

"I’ll lend you my name."

"I am the Emissary of the Founder Emperor and the Apostle of the Goddess in this other world. If you present it as if you're also sent by the Goddess, it should be useful, at least for starting the trade."

"......."

The Witch's eyes narrowed.

"That's a generous offer. Effective, too. But you wouldn’t suggest lending your name for free... What do you want?"

"The 20th floor."

"What?"

I looked around.

The Acacia forest path, the small plain, Ester's homeland.

This tiny world was the entirety of the 20th floor.

"I want to own the 20th floor."

The Witch was momentarily speechless.

"Wait a minute. Own the entire 20th floor?"

"Yes. Specifically, I’d like to own all the land on the 20th floor."

"That’s..."

"In exchange. I won’t take anything for clearing floors 11 to 19. The profits from trading with the continent should be shared with the other hunters." The Witch’s lips sealed again.

It was a bold proposal.

Usually, when hunters clear a stage, participants share the outcomes. Ownership of items, resources, and so on. But about half of the rights are left for all hunters to share.

There’s no precedent for someone owning an entire floor.

"This isn’t something I can decide alone," the Witch said, looking troubled.

"We need to call the other guild masters and discuss it."

"Well, we have 24 hours to spare, so I can wait."

"...Do you really want this floor?"

The Witch glanced around.

“At a glance, this land does not look very valuable. The acacia flower path is pretty, but there is very little farmland, and the stage itself is cramped.”

"Hmm."

"My experience says, King of Death. At times like this, it's more profitable to just take your share of the clear. You could make a tremendous amount of money."

I smiled.

"I prefer real estate over money. Land is the best."

"Deal?"

The Witch sighed.

"I'll gather the guild masters. Let's discuss it in Babylon on the 1st floor."

"Sounds good."

"Okay. You should show your face to the people anyway. But..."

The Witch slowly turned her gaze.

"I've been wanting to ask since earlier."

"Yes."

"...What is that?"

She pointed in the same direction I looked.

"Fuck... Black... damn it, stop...! Stop it! Is this request so hard, fuck! What grudge do you have against me, what did I do wrong...!!"

There, the Tower's greatest dancer was showcasing his talent.

His sweat and tears beautifully moistened the Acacia forest path.

Beautiful.

"Witch."

I smiled brightly.

"You saw nothing."

"Huh?"

"You didn't see anything. Understand?"

"......."

The Witch made a face like a biologist who had encountered the mystery of a lifetime.

"Fine. I'll accept that. There are various kinds of people in the world. But still," the Witch muttered.

"You’re really not sane…"

That too was a minority opinion.

2.

I dismissed Preta and the Flame Emperor, then teleported to the first floor with the other hunters.

"Is it okay to have the meeting at the same cafe as last time?"

"Yes. I'm fine with anywhere."

I was back in Babylon, the city on the first floor, after what would look to everyone else like a mere five-day absence. For me, it had been hundreds of days, practically years, since I last returned to the city.

"Ah."

"What’s wrong?"

“Nothing. It is finally starting to feel as if I really cleared the stage.”

The Witch chuckled.

"Well. You might need to feel it a bit more."

"Huh?"

"I told you. Right now, in the Tower, people are only talking about you. Be mentally prepared."

There was no need to ask what kind of mental preparation I needed.

"Huh?"

"Is that...?"

It didn’t take long after stepping on the 1st floor teleportation stone for the surroundings to start buzzing.

Pedestrians walking the streets, vendors at their stalls, hunters gearing up for their next hunt, all began to whisper among themselves.

"That's the Witch and the Sword Saint."

"Then that person is..."

"The King of Death!"

Someone shouted, and it became a turning point.

"The King of Death has appeared!"

A customer examining used weapons at a stall turned their head. A couple at an outdoor cafe stood up. A flower merchant, hunters chatting, dozens, hundreds of people all turned to look our way at once.

In an instant, a crowd gathered around us.

"Wow, wow---."

“There is a rumor that you cleared the twentieth floor alone! Is it true?”

"Please look here! Just a moment! Over here!"

Buzzing voices surrounded us.

I had no time to react. In the blink of an eye, we were completely encircled. By the time I blinked again, the crowd had doubled.

"Uh..."

"Don’t say anything."

The Witch whispered in a voice only I could hear.

"Have you never dealt with the media before?"

"Yes, of course not."

"A man of mystery? A popular star?"

"Huh?"

"Your concept. Do you want to be a man of mystery, or a popular star?"

Even as the Witch whispered, the crowd tripled in size. It felt as if our walking speed had fallen by a factor of thirty. Click! Click! Phone cameras went off noisily with every step.

My mind was completely overwhelmed.

"Once you choose a concept, it's hard to change. Decide now."

“I understand the man-of-mystery approach, but what exactly is the popular-star approach?”

"Similar to a movie star."

The Witch explained.

"First, you need to start a new SNS account. You'll have managers for image and media relations. Of course, you'll hire someone to take care of your appearance and fashion. Don’t worry about money; the Black Dragon Guild will cover it."

My already scattered wits were fraying at the edges.

The Sword Saint frowned beside us.

"I don’t like this crap, that's why I always go solo."

That seemed like a wise decision.

"Let's go with the man of mystery, please..."

“Are you sure? People change when professionals manage them. Naturally, you would become far more handsome than you are now, and you would also gain a new perspective on how to deal with other people. The Heretic Inquisitor even models for magazines and shoots personal photo books.”

I knew that.

Before the 4000-day regression, collecting and organizing those magazines and photo books was my hobby. The Black Witch before me was a regular on magazine covers.

"No, please, a man of mystery."

Had I been shot in the head?

“I would die of embarrassment!”

"Everyone's shy at first. Well, except the Inquisitor... But King of Death, what you shouted atop the Imperial Palace tower was much more..."

"If it's not a man of mystery, I'll quit the five major guilds."

I was dead serious.

The Witch chuckled softly.

"Yeah. That suits your personality."

"What does a man of mystery do?"

"It's simple. Just keep a straight face."

For the first time in my life, I was advised to keep a straight face.

“Absolutely no social-media activity. No magazine or broadcast appearances. Refuse interview requests from streamers and news organizations. Two interviews a year or so would be acceptable, but I will send you only reporters I have vetted beforehand.”

Hmm.

"...Is that all?"

"You don’t realize how hard that is."

The Witch giggled.

"Attention is like a drug. The most addictive kind."

The Sword Saint picked up where she left off.

"And the drug that most thoroughly destroys people."

“Right. A person can feel happy when only ten people pay attention to them. But once you reach this position, hundreds of thousands or even millions react to just a few words from you. Very few people can resist a drug like that.”

The crowd pressed in closer.

It felt like the entire city's population was here.

“It is all an illusion.”

Said the Sword Saint.

“Yes. But it is a pleasant illusion.”

"Maybe enjoying such a drug is part of being famous. Until you tire of it. Or until you become disillusioned with others taking the same drug. What will you do, King of Death?"

I looked around.

A curtain of humanity.

People packed so tightly there wasn't a single gap. Camera flashes never stopped, and I had to squint to see through them. The flashes looked like mirages, and the curtain of humanity like a shadow.

“...There may be no one who craves other people as desperately as I do.”

I spoke up.

"What I want is recognition. And I think... getting attention and getting recognition are different."

I thought of the Flame Emperor.

The absolute ruler who once monopolized all attention in the Tower before my 4000-day regression.

“I can do without the attention of millions. The attention I receive from the people around me is enough. Whether from hundreds of thousands or millions, what I want from the people of the world is not attention, but recognition.”

"Right."

The Witch smiled.

"I think they're not entirely separate, but if that's your answer, I respect it."

“Yes.”

"You're that kind of person, and I'm glad for it."

That was something I’d heard before.

"So, how do I keep a straight face?"

"I'll tell you a secret."

Crowd noise swelled around us.

We seemed to slow to 10cm per second.

"Think of a truly bad memory."

"A bad memory?"

"Yeah. For me, it's when my father died in a civil war in the outside world."

The Witch spoke calmly.

"I was seven. We were fleeing, and soldiers were probably chasing us. My father stayed behind. He shouted, 'Don't look back, just run.' But..."

She pushed through the crowd.

"I didn’t look back. I heard gunshots but kept running."

Click! Click!

Camera flashes never ceased.

“You were only a child.”

“I was a child.”

The Witch murmured.

"I don't regret running. I was a child. But why didn’t I even look back? It would have been easy. Just to look."

"........"

“Whenever I need an expressionless face, I think back to that moment. When I replay the memory of running until my heart pounded, it becomes very easy to show no expression at all. It is my own little magic.”

The Witch looked at me.

"You have such memories too, don't you?"

I do.

In a dark alley, gripped by the Flame Emperor, burning all over.

"That's right."

Without a mirror, I knew.

I was wearing a perfect expressionless face.

"Look here, please!"

"Say something, please!"

"Black Witch, when can we expect an official statement?"

“What is the relationship between you two?”

"Sword Saint! What do you think of the King of Death!"

As I looked around again, I’d become accustomed to the camera flashes. I could see clearly despite being surrounded by so many people. This was my first time being encircled by such a crowd, my first time under such a barrage of flashes.

But…

"It works amazingly well."

I wasn't as mentally scattered as before.

Just calm as usual.

The corner of the Witch's mouth lifted slightly.

"You learn fast. You'll get used to it quickly."

In just five days, the world had changed.

But it had not changed enough that I needed to change with it.

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