WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ SSS-Class Revival Hunter ◈

Chapter 52: After the Ending (3)

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3.

We finally forced our way through the crowd and reached the cafe, where familiar faces awaited us.

"Ahaha, welcome!"

The Heretic Inquisitor, guild master of the Pantheon, waved his right arm.

"Clearing the 20th floor in just five days! This is the greatest feat since the Tower's creation. I sincerely respect you, Hunter Kim Gong-Ja! No, I should say, King of Death now!"

"Still feels like a dream..."

The Paladin sipped an iced coffee.

"Honestly, I thought you, the Black Witch, and the Sword Saint would fail and die. And you even soloed the 20th floor? Amazing. If there's a secret, please share it."

"A secret?"

I sat at one side of the table.

"Just live a decent life?"

“Very practical advice.”

The Paladin smirked.

"Anyway, it's nice to see you all after a long time. How have you been?"

"Well, it's only been 5 days."

The Countess puffed on her long pipe.

"We stayed in the audience hall as promised. A promise is a promise, after all. But soon after, NPCs from the empire started roaming around. It was a surprise!"

"Ah."

That was when I defeated the Demon King on the 12th floor.

I received a quest, which restarted the frozen time.

"I didn't think about that. What happened?"

"The empire's NPCs thought we were traitors who invaded the palace!"

The Heretic Inquisitor chuckled.

"Some well-dressed person was shouting, 'Catch those traitors!' and the empire's knights and elite troops came after us. It was chilling!"

"But this little guy has various tricks."

Viper, master of the Celestial Martial Clan. The one-eyed hunter vigorously ruffled the Heretic Inquisitor's hair.

“First we obediently let them capture us, then escaped from prison. Tsk. Honestly, what a mess.”

"Ahaha! Wasn't it fun! I never imagined a secret passage in the underground prison! It felt like going back to childhood!"

"Wait, weren't you kidnapped by the Bulgarian mafia as a child?"

"Yes!"

The Inquisitor laughed genuinely.

"That's why it reminded me of my childhood. Prison! Underground! Escape! Ah, all these things glorified my youthful days! Now they are just distant memories."

"Madman..."

Viper sighed deeply.

While I was busy filming the Demon King saga, it seemed the guild leaders had their own adventures.

"Right. We all had quite the lives in the outside world."

The Black Witch joined the table nonchalantly.

"The Countess was born in a slum in India. Viper, your parents were gang leaders. The Paladin struggled in Venezuela."

"......."

"So we're all trash in the eyes of the outside world, right?"

The cafe's atmosphere suddenly grew heavy.

Only the sound of the Paladin sipping coffee echoed.

"...This isn't a conversation for this occasion."

The Paladin glanced at me.

"Are you considering the King of Death as [one of us] now?"

"Yes."

The Black Witch replied.

"You might not know, but the King of Death has contributed decisively to the Tower's conquest."

"We know that."

"No. You don’t."

The Black Witch shook her head.

"In this conquest, we didn't have a single casualty. Even on the 11th floor where numerous hunters participated. All thanks to the King of Death's strategy and tactics."

All eyes turned to me.

"Hmm."

"It's true."

"I."

The Black Witch spoke.

"I want to make this man the hero representing our Tower."

Silence enveloped the cafe.

The Black Witch scanned the hunters around the table.

"Countess, you're too greedy for money."

"It's true, can't deny it."

"Heretic Inquisitor, you've killed too many."

"Yes! It was a necessary sacrifice!"

"Paladin, you hate getting attention from others."

"It's just my nature."

"And Viper, you are..."

"Uh? What?"

"...sorry. You're too ugly."

"........"

Viper's mouth opened and closed in wounded disbelief. Soon, however, he hung his head deeply. It was a portrait filled with the sorrows of middle age.

"As for the Sword Saint, well, he's obsessed with swords."

"Hmm."

"I have to operate in the shadows, so I can't."

After scanning the table, the Black Witch finally turned to me.

"But the King of Death has no public image yet. With some effort, we can mold him into the perfect hero. It's an opportunity. A chance to renew the Tower's image."

"Indeed."

The Heretic Inquisitor stroked his chin.

“We are old faces, so it is true that our effect has worn off! We keep publishing magazines covering news from the hunter world, but their circulation is steadily falling outside the Tower!”

"Right. That's what I mean."

"So, we should start image-making today!"

The Inquisitor stood up, circling around me like an excited puppy.

“Hmm. You are a little short, but that is fine! As you can tell from looking at me, the camera can make up for all of it!”

"Uh..."

Wasn't your short stature your charm point?

A bright smile blossomed across the little hunter's little face.

"[A small but passionate man, the King of Death]. This phrase will hit the mark!"

Before I could respond, the hunters gathered around.

The Black Witch, Countess, Viper, Paladin.

Regardless of affiliation, they came close, examining me thoroughly.

"Do you have a partner right now?"

"Uh... no."

"Any lovers or romantic interests in the Tower?"

"None."

"So, there's no risk of scandals. Perfect!"

What does 'perfect' even mean?

The top rankers began to murmur.

"He looks a bit cunning when he smiles. Let's push the mysterious concept. He’s good at keeping a straight face."

"Having no partner is troublesome."

The Paladin spoke.

"We might need to create a fake scandal. Otherwise, outsiders will start rumors..."

"Don't worry. I'll handle that."

“Oh! A scenario in which love blossomed while you fought desperately together for five days? Ahaha, excellent! We can make exactly the kind of story people will adore!”

“What if we say he donated a large portion of everything he earned to orphanages? I have been making steady anonymous donations in preparation for an occasion like this. Let us say they were actually donations from the King of Death.”

“Yes. Please handle that, Countess.”

What?

What in the world was happening?

"Let's call the photographers! Let's take some photos!"

The Inquisitor beamed brightly.

"Call all the designers. We need to distribute at least one photo to the media today. We have some videos of the 11th floor battle, we'll release them online at the right time!"

Wait.

Hold on.

"Everyone, I..."

"Don't worry."

The Black Witch interrupted me, smiling with deep wisdom.

"You don't need to do anything, King of Death. We'll handle everything. Just keep doing what you've been doing."

"But, you said a mysterious concept. Designers aren't necessary, right?"

"Just for today, please."

The Black Witch pleaded gently.

"The whole world wants to know about you. Just one photo. Let's show them one picture. Okay? Don’t worry, our contracted designers are incredible."

Thirty minutes later, it turned out to be far more than just one photo.

"Look here, please!"

Click!

Nearly ten designers descended on me, dressed me, and styled my hair. Each time they changed my clothes or touched my hair, the photographer set off another flash.

"Yes, perfect. Now, hold a dagger! Like a wolf stalking prey in the bushes!"

"No, wait..."

"Excellent!"

Click!

The hunters huddled behind the photographer, scrutinizing my pose.

"The suit surprisingly suits him."

"Maybe a slightly more mischievous feeling."

"No way! I've already secured the mischievous concept!"

"Then, how about a young man burning with a sense of adventure?"

"Let's go with that."

Click!

"Perfect!"

Perfect my foot.

-Pffft! Puhah, pfft! Kha-ha-ha-ha-ha!!

The Sword Emperor was rolling in the air, laughing.

One hour, then two hours passed, and my patience finally broke.

"I'm not doing this anymore! I quit!"

I threw the suit on the floor.

"Hunters are supposed to climb the Tower! What’s with all this media image and photo shoot nonsense! This is why you couldn't even clear the 10th floor for years!"

Silence.

Did my heartfelt words resonate? The atmosphere turned cold. The Black Witch and the hunters all stared at me intently.

Then, they nodded.

"...That line wasn't bad."

"Hmm. The embodiment of a young man burning with passion."

“Let us use [A Hunter Is Someone Who Climbs the Tower] as the slogan for this issue.”

“We had that kind of passion in our twenties too...”

They had not heard a word.

“Oh, enough! I came here to talk about the twentieth floor. I will give you all the rights to Floors 10 through 19, so please let the twentieth floor be my territory!”

The hunters nodded again.

“The image of a man without greed is good too.”

"The headline for tomorrow’s newspaper: [King of Death, Shocking Declaration. He will give up his rights from the 10th to 19th floors to all hunters, stating he's satisfied just conquering the Tower.]"

"Agreed!"

"Second page: [King of Death, known for donating to orphanages since long ago.]"

"Yes. Leave the 20th floor to the King of Death as our token of gratitude and respect."

"Perfect! What a beautiful conclusion!"

No.

They didn't listen to me at all.

These people were obsessed with making me a hero.

"Forget it, young man."

The Sword Saint spoke bluntly.

"I went through the same when I became rank 1. All kinds of nonsense about old man's charm, how to grow a beard differently. They said everything."

Oh no.

"They want to show the outside world. [We are also living proudly.] It's a kind of inferiority complex."

The old swordsman murmured.

“They must have cast away everything in the outside world to enter the Tower, so I cannot understand what still leaves them with such bitter resentment...”

The Sword Saint turned to leave.

"Let's go."

"Yes?"

"If we stay, there's no end to this. After photos, they'll want videos, then a press conference. That's how they are. If you don't escape now, you'll lose a whole day."

A terrifying thought.

"Let's escape quickly!"

"A wise choice."

We ran, infusing our steps with aura. "Ah!" cries echoed behind us, but we didn't stop.

"King of Death!"

The Black Witch shouted.

"Come back in the morning for the press conference! Don't get noticed, move secretly! Escape via the rooftops! Be careful!"

The Guardian Spirit laughed uproariously.

-Heh, she's more like your mother than an angel or goddess, isn't she?

Indeed, she was.

Although I'm not sure what a mother is like.

4.

Before long, sunset had fallen over the world.

As advised by the Black Witch, we escaped via the rooftops. Looking down, hundreds of people still swarmed the cafe. Reporters from TV stations were buzzing around as an added bonus.

'Good thing we didn't exit through the main door!'

We leapt across the rooftops tinged with red.

Our stop was a bell tower in the square.

A security guard, fiddling with his smartphone, belatedly recognized us.

“Gasp! S-Sword Saint!?”

"Hmm."

The Sword Saint landed gracefully on the tower.

"Would you mind stepping aside for a moment?"

"Ah, but... um..."

"Five minutes will suffice."

The young guard was flustered, understandably overwhelmed by a living legend. Then his gaze met mine, and his eyes lit up.

"Is that... the King of Death!?"

"Ah, yes."

"Wow, wow! It’s my first time seeing you in person, wow! Amazing!"

The guard fumbled through his bag in excitement. A romance novel popped out, probably to kill time during his shift.

"I only have this paper right now. Could I get an autograph, please!?"

The Sword Saint, as if used to such requests, took the novel.

"Have a pen?"

"Here, sir!"

"What's your name?"

"I don't have an alias yet...!"

With neat handwriting, the Sword Saint signed the book.

The guard, like an innocent boy, received the autograph and turned to me. His eyes sparkled with eagerness.

"C-could I also get one from you, King of Death?"

"Sure."

My autograph?

"I've never done something like this before..."

"It's a lifetime wish of mine! Please!"

I awkwardly took the book and pen.

A lifetime wish for my autograph? How light must one's life be.

I glanced down at the book, already signed by the Sword Saint. I hesitated, realizing that writing 'King of Death' would be the first time I put that name in writing.

Before I knew it, our signatures lay side by side.

+

Sword Saint 劍星.

King of Death 死王.

+

"......."

“Th-Thank you! Thank you so much!”

“I will make it a family heirloom! Do not worry! I will never sell it to anyone else! Oh, thank you both so much! Have a wonderful weekend!”

The guard hurriedly descended the tower stairs, his excited voice fading, "Yes! Scored big!"

The tower was left with just a red sunset and our soft breathing.

"......."

After a long silence,

"Um, Sword Saint."

"Listen, young man."

We spoke simultaneously, our voices colliding in the air.

Awkward silence ensued, but not for long.

I spoke.

"To you, Sword Saint, I must appear as someone who killed countless people. A mass murderer who must be punished."

Calmly, I looked at the Sword Saint.

"But if you look in the mirror, you'll see a mass murderer who has also killed countless people. Yourself."

The Sword Saint gazed not at me, but at the twilight sky.

"Yet, you don't seek to punish yourself. You must have a clear standard for killing: 'punish those who have harmed many.' Similarly, I've always had a clear standard: 'punish those who will harm many.'"

This was a carefully crafted lie prepared since I falsely claimed to be a prophet,

"If someone killed many in the past, and you killed them for it, then I have been killing those who would harm many in the future."

“So, Sword Saint, you and I are effectively walking the same path...”

Before I could finish saying it, the old man quietly called to me.

"You don’t need to convince me of that."

"Huh."

"Sword Saint, I..."

"Young man."

His gentle call silenced me.

Still fixed on the sunset, he spoke.

"I’m different from the other hunters."

It seemed an abrupt statement.

"Black Witch. Countess. Heretic Inquisitor. Viper. Paladin... all suffered harshly in the outside world. But I’m different. Born into abundance, I lived without the lack of anything."

Marcus Callenbury.

I knew the man before me was from a prominent family. I had researched him during my investigation. A renowned family in Northern Europe.

"When the Tower appeared, I had already established a family. Ran a business, married, had children, and saw my grandchildren. I experienced success as much as one could."

His voice was steady.

"But doubts crept in."

"Doubts?"

"I wondered if my success was truly my own achievement. It just suddenly intrigued me."

The old man slowly drew his sword.

"Was it just because I was born into a good family?"

The twilight reflected on the blade.

The sword that had not cut anything was red.

"Born under a good family, educated well, befriended the best, grew up drinking only the finest... Was I just a bird in a gilded cage? I was proud, believing I achieved everything on my own... but maybe it was just a delusion."

He said.

"No."

Sharp as a blade.

"It can't be."

His heart was as red as the sunset.

"True, I was born into privilege. Yet, I still stood tall on my own. I wanted to prove my pride wasn't a delusion."

"So you came to the Tower."

"Hmm."

He nodded.

"In the Tower, where no one can return to the outside world, where I have no family, supporters, or prestige... I wanted to prove my life with just myself."

"But," he murmured.

"I think I've grown complacent."

"Skill card open. Reveal."

Flash!

A silver card materialized in the Sword Saint's hand.

+

[Eyes of a Detective]

Rank: B-

Effect: You can know the kill count of others. Direct murders only. The skill counts only intentional killings.

*However, the method of murder is unknown.

+

"Foolish."

He gazed at his skill card.

"Though I resolved to rely only on my eyes and hands... before I knew it, I was dependent on 'skills.' I saw through skills rather than my eyes, and trusted the skill's judgment over my own."

And then,

"Last question, young man."

His blue eyes met mine.

“Have you ever killed even one innocent person?”

I see. So that was why he had said I did not need to convince him, I realized.

I understood.

Understanding happens in the ‘head,’ just as mine had a moment ago. No matter how elaborate a lie might be, it could only ensnare someone's mind. It could never capture that person's heart.

"No."

Persuasion, not mere understanding.

"I haven't. Sword Saint."

Like when I addressed the Tower's pillar,

I spoke through my heart.

"I won't in the future either."

The Sword Saint silently closed his eyes, as if savoring my expression and voice.

Silence flowed.

Then,

“-Hup!”

The card flew.

The golden twilight shone through the split card, torn by the red blade.

"I'll trust my eyes."

The card shattered into motes of light. The skill had been destroyed.

“You worked hard these past five days. Thank you for putting up with an old man's stubbornness.”

“It may be late to say so, but clearing floors twelve through nineteen with you was quite an enjoyable experience. Rest well today. The twenty-first floor will open as soon as tomorrow's press conference ends.”

He stepped off the roof.

Before leaping to another building, he glanced at me.

"Looking forward to your performance on the next floor, King of Death."

And he quickly vanished.

"......."

I stood still for a long time.

I awkwardly spoke.

"Sword Emperor. Did he just...?"

-Yeah.

"Recognize me?"

-It seemed so.

A weight lifted from my heart.

"Wow..."

I slowly sank to the ground, the stone floor cool beneath me. I gazed blankly at the darkening sky.

"Wow, it's really over. The 20th floor is mine now. The media will be handled by the guild leaders... Yes, everything is truly over."

The Guardian Spirit chuckled.

-Not really over. You'd think you cleared the 50th floor.

"Feels like I've cleared the 90th."

-Tsk, Zombie. Sometimes I cannot tell whether your nerve is enormous or tiny.

"Sometimes, I'm not sure myself..."

But I had wrapped up everything up to the 20th floor.

As I settled into this strange sense of fulfillment,

[The Goddess of Protection marvels at your achievements!]

A voice I hadn't heard in a while echoed.

"Huh?"

Come to think of it.

Even after defeating the Demon King of the Autumn Rain, the Goddess of Protection was quiet. Except for when I first conquered the 12th floor, she was always silent.

[The Goddess of Protection recognizes all your deeds!]

Her voice, silent for so long, now flowed continuously.

[The Goddess of Protection acknowledges that even though your claim of being her apostle was a lie, you indeed have the qualifications to be a true apostle.]

[The Goddess of Protection permits you to continue using her!]

But there was something odd in her words.

"Continue to use her? What does that mean?"

[The Goddess of Protection is upset that you've been getting along well but now ask what she means.]

Even more confusing.

"Getting along well?"

[The Goddess of Protection tells you to look down.]

I looked down.

Nothing but the stone floor.

[The Goddess of Protection suggests you look slightly to the left.]

I shifted my gaze.

There were my legs and waist.

At my waist hung the legendary weapon said to have been bestowed by the Goddess upon the founding emperor of the Aegim Empire, the sword known as Leafanta Aegim's Guardian Holy Sword.

"Wait a minute. Could it be?"

[The Goddess of Protection advises you to focus your gaze on your waist.]

I felt a strange premonition.

I recalled the scene where I was fighting against the Demon King's army on the 12th floor.

At the time, an announcement had rung out that the Goddess of Protection was squeezing out the last of her strength. The moment it ended, something in my hand had emitted a white light.

There were no other miracles.

"Wait. Let me think. The [Goddess of Protection] that was occasionally mentioned while fighting the Demon King..."

With a sense of incredulity, I spoke.

"Are you... perhaps the 'sword'?"

After a brief pause.

The voice responded.

[The Goddess of Protection says yes!]

Good heavens.

Apparently, the Holy Sword I had been using really was a holy sword.

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