Chapter 113 - The Non-Player I

1

Let me warn you now: don't expect a neat ending to today's story.

This one truly is a bad ending, in every sense of the term.

Let's talk about the shitty, broken game called reality.

2

Gapless.

Ever since we subjugated that God of Alienation, a great deal had changed in the world.

I only realized it later, but the Gods of Alienation each possessed a sort of territory.

A divine domain, you might call it.

If that term feels unfamiliar, you could call it a temple instead. For Gapless, the Tutorial Dungeons were its principal divine domains, its temples. Hundred Flowers Girls’ High School would have been the central sanctuary among them.

Whenever one religion's influence wanes, other religions have always moved in to fill the gap.

Following their instincts to spread their doctrines, anomalies declared Earth a Blue Marble game board for religious warfare.

Frankly, whether humans died during these holy crusades was none of the anomalies' concern. Refusing to recognize people of other faiths as civilians was an age-old tradition here on Earth anyway.

The important thing was that the moment Gapless fell, the balance between factions—delicately maintained like a house of cards—collapsed in an instant.

After its subjugation, anomalies that had previously been suppressed began running wild, little by little.

"Huh? Where am I...?"

"I'm not Kim Junyeong from Anyang! I am Namgung Muncheong, a first-generation disciple of the Namgung Clan!"

"Please, take me back to that world, back... Huh? Why am I crying?"

Hero Syndrome was a prime example.

As I've mentioned before, I first witnessed Hero Syndrome in run 118. Gapless was subjugated in run 117.

I'm not trying to spring a memory test on you. After all, I can only bring up these details because I have [Perfect Recall].

What I'm trying to say is—the timing was awfully convenient, wasn't it?

Doesn't it seem as though it had been waiting for Gapless to be subjugated?

Let's review once more. Hero Syndrome wasn't the only anomaly enjoying a newly boosted gacha rate-up on the Korean Peninsula around this time.

HOOOOONK!

HONK! HOOONK! HOOOOONK!

HOOOOONK! HOOOONK!

Run 119 was also when the Reincarnation Truck, the mortal enemy of every writer and reader, first revealed itself.

Widen our view, and there were plenty of other anomalies too. Salvation Narrative Syndrome appeared in run 126. In run 141, the imaginary structure known as the Japan–Korea Undersea Tunnel appeared.

Hero Syndrome, the Reincarnation Truck, Salvation Narrative Syndrome, imaginary buildings... Don't you sense some kind of common thread?

That's right. All of these were hints and portents of an immense underlying current.

Every oven dish needs a little preheating.

Today, before giving you the answer to that question outright, I'd like to talk about one particular portent—the most absurd, and at the same time the most memorable.

A virtual-reality MMORPG.

The so-called "online game" will be the star of this episode.

3

There was a recurring topic on SG Net, something people periodically posted about, almost a running tradition.

-Anonymous: Status window! Status window! Status window!

-Anonymous: Shouted "Open Status" as soon as I woke up again today. Did the status window appear? (Day 31)

-Anonymous: Guys, am I the only one who can see a status window right now??

-Anonymous: Said "status window" and it actually appeared, for real

-BookishGirl: Honestly, upvote if you've secretly tried shouting "status window" since the world went to shit lmao

The status-window topic.

Naturally, as a mature, ordinary member of society, I had never once muttered "status window" to myself.

You think I must have tried shouting it in run one or two? My memories only began with run five, so anything before that counted as ancient history.

Nobody was so unreasonable as to hold a modern nation accountable for crimes committed in antiquity. Did Türkiye treat Greece as a war-criminal nation for starting the Trojan War?

Anyway, this world had no status screen helpfully listing all your "ability stats" and "skill descriptions."

The awakened had to discover the nature of their abilities painstakingly, through endless trial and error.

For instance, before SG Net existed, Sim Aryeon had no idea that her healing ability was [Grudge Bomb]—that its secret was growing stronger the more people she provoked.

This was also why awakened with "simple abilities" had an advantage early in a run.

An ability like Lee Baek's [Lion's Roar], which merely made his voice louder, was easy to recognize precisely because it was so simple.

A world endlessly unkind to the awakened.

And that very unkindness was the secret behind the overwhelming popularity and trust I, the Undertaker, enjoyed among them.

"Seo Gyu. Your ability is [Ubiquitous]. It lets you create an online community that anyone with a smartphone can access, no matter what. The more users you have, the more your ability develops, and the more kinds of systems you can add to the message boards."

"Huh?"

"Aryeon. Your ability is [Grudge Bomb]. Once Seo Gyu here creates SG Net, become a founding member and its most notorious villain. Drink in everyone's outrage and grow."

"Wha-huh?"

A monopoly on information.

The nature of abilities that even their owners didn't understand. Their strengths and weaknesses. Even "training guides" explaining how to develop them further.

With all that information in my grasp, I could release exactly as much as I wanted, to whomever I wanted, whenever I wanted.

No, I didn't even need to step in myself.

['Saintess of National Salvation' bestows an ability upon you.]

With a little "distortion," we could make it look as though their abilities were awakened and developed by the constellations.

['Saintess of National Salvation' grants you the 'Lesser Healing' ability.]

['Conqueror of the Alps' grants you the 'Hammer Proficiency' ability.]

['Chancellor in the Red Cloak' grants you the 'Pain Control Sufficient to Make Stubbing Your Little Toe Painless' ability.]

Constellation Talk certainly delivered.

From the awakened's perspective, abilities they hadn't even known they possessed were suddenly bestowed on them by constellations, like miraculous windfalls.

['Chancellor in the Red Cloak' tips you off that deliberately stubbing your toe on table legs and the corners of door thresholds 999 times will improve your 'Pain Control' ability.]

Sometimes I acted directly. Sometimes the Saintess impersonated constellations.

The regressor schemed both in plain sight and behind the scenes.

Those whose abilities I awakened—or rather, revealed—followed me personally. Those who received that revelation from constellations worshipped the constellations. Either way, they were in the palm of my hand.

Simply by revealing information a little earlier than the awakened might have discovered it themselves two, six, or ten years later, we secured their absolute support.

This was one reason the warlord-level guilds on the Korean Peninsula were quieter than those elsewhere. Ruler, teacher, and parent were one. They were all practically disciples indebted to me. Just look at Dang Seorin: hadn't she quickly mastered Equivalent Exchange magic thanks to me?

And that was why...

-Anonymous: Shouted "Open Status" as soon as I woke up again today. Did the status window appear? (Day 191)

-Anonymous: Posting because it did lmao (Day 191)

One post that suddenly appeared in run 133 posed a grave threat not only to my standing, but to the security of the Korean Peninsula.

At first, I dismissed it as a shitpost and scrolled past without a second thought.

But about thirty minutes later, it became clear that I'd been far too complacent.

["Mr. Undertaker. We have a serious problem."]

"Yes? What is it?"

["'Status windows' are appearing before the awakened across the Korean Peninsula, one after another."]

"What?"

I immediately logged onto SG Net.

-Anonymous: Wait, what? An actual status screen is floating in front of me like a hologram?

-BookishGirl: Rate my status window.

-Anonymous: These fuckers are all trolling together now. Is SG Net dead? Ban this boring-ass topic already.

-Anonymous: Got an S-rank combat stat??

-Anonymous: Guys guys, my status window says my charm is A-rank. Is that good?

The community was in uproar.

"What the..."

"Guild Leadeeeeer!"

BANG!

Someone kicked my door open and rolled into the room.

That last statement was notable in two respects.

First, throwing open the door to my private room without warning demonstrated that the intruder had no concept of manners.

Second, as you can tell from "rolled in," rather than "walked in" or "ran in," this individual might not even possess the ability to walk on two legs.

In short, this creature failed to qualify as Homo sapiens either mentally or physically. The identifying name of this unidentified cryptid life-form was Sim Aryeon.

"Guild Leadeeeer! I-I-I, it appeaaared! It appeared!"

"..."

"Essessess-raaaank...!"

As you can see from the dialogue, I hadn't asked Aryeon, "What did?" or "What do you mean, it appeared?"

Nor had I asked what on earth "essessess-rank" meant.

But human methods of conversation don't work on cryptids. The entity before me opened a sketchbook of its own accord and furiously scrawled across it with a felt-tip pen.

"L-l-look!"

I didn't want to.

But a regressor's finely honed senses brought me countless advantages and one disadvantage.

That disadvantage was that even a fleeting glance at Aryeon's open sketchbook let me absorb every letter and its contents.

――――――――――

[Status]

Name: Sim Aryeon

Title: 'The Bird That Drinks Poison'

Occupation: Healer, Pharmacist, Painter, Saintess (Potential), Novelist (Potential)

[Stamina: E-rank] [Strength: E-rank] [Intuition: S-rank minus] [Agility: E-rank] [Intelligence: B-rank] [Charm: F-rank]

Personality Traits: [Unwavering Devotion] [Fear of People] [Complacency] [Arrogance]

Exclusive Skill: [The Bird That Drinks Poison (SSS)]

*The Bird That Drinks Poison (SSS): The ability to turn the poison overflowing in this world into medicine.

The more resentment and curses others direct at you, the more powerful your healing becomes. The more people resent you, and the more deeply their curses bite, the stronger your healing grows.

Evil into good. Grudges into opportunities. You were born destined to become this land's savior, its Saintess.

May fortune be with you.

――――――――――

"Y-you saw, right? You saw? Guild Leadeeer... Ehee. Ehehe, I was an essessess-rank ability user...!"

"..."

"Poison Bird... Heehee, it says Poison Bird... And a s-savior, a Saintess, too...!"

Only then did I realize that "essessess-rank" was her pronunciation of "SSS-rank."

As for why Aryeon pronounced "S-S-S-rank" that way, I could only admit my ignorance.

And my ignorance didn't end there.

I only developed a taste for web novels, and genre fiction in general, starting in run 555. Thus, I could neither rage against nor condemn the sight of this cryptid life-form calling itself the Poison Bird—an insult to this world, a disgrace to this universe.

I merely remained silent. As Wittgenstein said, we must remain silent about what we do not know.

"G-Guild Leader, you should try shouting it toooo."

"What?"

"Status window. It also appears if you shout 'O-open Status'... You can just think it instead of shouting, but the f-first time, you have to say it out loud. Oh! When you say it, really, really, really pack in your desire—your intent—to see your stats...!"

Then what about people who couldn't speak? This status-window-whatever anomaly—and of course its identity as an anomaly was already established, since only an anomaly would pull this kind of bullshit—anyway, did that mean it was an anomaly bastard that discriminated against people with speech impairments? (Coincidentally, say "anomaly bastard" fast enough in Korean and it becomes "son of a bitch.")

"C-come on! Guild Leader! Hurry!"

"... Aryeon. It's never wise to carelessly yield your own territory to an anomaly like this."

"Huh?"

"You've been in our guild long enough to know a fair bit about anomalies now. Just as a traffic light has the rule 'don't cross when it's red,' speaking this status-window anomaly's name probably serves as the condition that activates its pact. You mustn't say it lightly."

"... Oh."

Aryeon adopted a look of understanding.

"G-Guild Leader... You don't want to shout it because you're afraid your stats won't measure up to mine..."

"..."

"Um, I'm sorry. As you know, Guild Leader, I, um, can be a little inconsiderate a lot of the time... Hehe. I won't brag about my stats in front of you anymore."

Aryeon left my room, saying, "Oh, I should go brag to Seo Gyu."

More precisely, she stepped out, then poked her head back through the doorway.

"Oh, um...! Even if you don't have an essessess-rank ability, Guild Leader... Even if you're just a measly ess-rank! Or an ay-rank! I'll never look down on you...!"

"..."

"I mean, y-you shouldn't look down on people over abilities like these, right? Right? Hehe. So... G-Guild Leader! You can do it...!"

BANG.

The cryptid shut the door and left.

The room grew quiet.

Silence passed.

"Saintess."

["Yes."]

"Gather every scrap of information on this anomaly bastard. As quickly as possible."

["... Understood."]

The Saintess sounded somewhat uneasy, but there wasn't a trace of doubt in my heart. In fact, viewed in retrospect, this was a historic event connected to a reform of the conventions of genre fiction itself.

I had, at last, declared war on the "status window."