Chapter 117 - The Non-Player V

The void had grown shabby now.

The graphics of the river that had once flowed so beautifully deteriorated from a “virtual reality game” to a “AAA game,” then an ordinary “3D game,” then a “1990s console game”—

Until, at last, they fell to the level of a “pixel-art game.”

No sea or river flowed in this void. There were only fixed pixels of blue, sky blue, and white.

The mountain slopes were a sparse assortment of green and dark green. Trees were blackish brown and yellowish brown. Rocks were gray. Clouds were white.

The players had become nothing more than clusters of flesh-colored pixels with a few decorations.

“...”

Each time Sim Aryeon logged in—at intervals of one year, three years, nine years, twenty years, fifty years—her “graphics” deteriorated.

From a character that looked as though a graphic designer had lavished the most care on her in a AAA game, to one you might find in any 3D game, to a design from a low-resolution game of the nineties.

By our last meeting, if I hadn't known she was Sim Aryeon, I would have seen only a mass of polygons with “green hair,” “long hair,” and a “large wooden crutch (easel)” that she carried around.

SG Net met its end, too.

-Goryeojang: Café mocha the guild leader NPC made me today.jpeg

-Goryeojang: Café mocha the guild leader NPC made me today.png

-Goryeojang: Café mocha the guild leader NPC made me today.jpg

-Goryeojang: Café mocha the guild leader NPC made me today.jpeg

The first page of the board contained posts from only one person.

Even those were very old.

Sim Aryeon hadn't logged in for the past hundred years. I thought she had probably quit, unable to stand this “dead game” any longer.

Seo Gyu had become a player hundreds of years ago, yet SG Net still remained online. From that, it was possible to surmise that the awakened who had been “logged out” hadn't died, but had been “dragged into” the God of Alienation's domain.

[End-of-Service Notice.]

At last.

[Hello, players. This is the ‘Operator of All Things at Play.’]

[We regret to announce that we have decided to end service for ‘Reality Online.’]

[We sincerely thank all the players who have enjoyed and loved ‘Reality Online’ over the years.]

[The ‘Reality Online’ server will shut down in 72 hours.]

Three days, then.

This anomaly had kept its true form tightly hidden for hundreds of years, but surely it would crawl out of its lair when the world finally ended.

I waited, gripping my beloved sword, Doha—the sword that had stayed with me for over two hundred years in this run without the slightest damage to its edge.

And exactly seventy-two hours later:

[Hello, everyone. This is the Operator of All Things at Play.]

A vivid blue butterfly suddenly appeared above the mosaic sky of pixels.

That butterfly alone possessed a distinctly different “resolution” from the surrounding scenery.

The moment I saw the anomaly, I unleashed a single flashing slash, but unfortunately it failed to reach the sky. That mosaic sky probably did not exist as actual space.

Disregarding my attack, messages streamed before my eyes.

[We are thinking of setting out on a new journey.]

[It may take a very long time to reach our new destination, but we hope to meet you again somewhere at the end of the ever-circling Möbius strip.]

[Thank you.]

[I truly want to meet you once more.]

Just then.

“ A a a a h ! ”

A mechanical voice sounded behind me. It was infinitely strange, yet somehow familiar.

I had been gazing up at the God of Alienation-class anomaly with cold hatred, but the sound startled me into turning around.

There—

“ G u i l d L e a d e r ! ”

Hair of green pixels.

A face of flesh-colored pixels. Eyes and a mouth made of black pixels.

A cluster of pixels, its frame much smaller than mine, stood there.

“ I ' m h e r e ! ”

The pixels walked toward me one step at a time, swinging both arms back and forth in exaggerated motions.

TAP. TAP.

Each time a shoe touched the ground, a crude footstep sound effect played.

The cluster of pixels hugged my waist tightly. That, too, was only a sound effect. I felt nothing around my waist.

I hesitated, then spoke. It had been so long since I'd talked to another person that my tongue moved sluggishly.

“... Aryeon?”

“ Y e s ! ”

The pixels smiled. Broadly, perhaps.

Whenever it spoke, an electronic text sound trilled along with it. A mechanical voice with only a handful of pitches barely managed to imitate a human voice.

“How did you... No. Why are you here...?”

“ W h y ? T h e s e r v e r s h u t d o w n n o t i c e w e n t u p ! S o I h u r r i e d t o l o g i n ! I t ' s t h e e n d , a n d , y e a h , I w a n t t o s p e n d a t l e a s t t h e e n d w i t h y o u , G u i l d L e a d e r ! ”

“...”

“ S o r r y I ' m l a t e , G u i l d L e a d e r . H e h e . ”

I—

[Notice.]

[The server will automatically shut down in 30 seconds.]

I hugged “Sim Aryeon” tightly.

I felt nothing in my arms, as though I were embracing empty air. I stroked the hair that always stuck out in untidy tufts. Again, I felt nothing.

“ G u i l d L e a d e r ? ”

“No. You have nothing to apologize for. There's nothing at all you need to be sorry about, Aryeon. I'm the one who should apologize, as your guild leader. I... For the next time. I was trying to gather information, however I could. And so, I didn't know you'd end up like this.”

“ G u i l d L e a d e r . ”

Sim Aryeon reached out a hand.

[The server will automatically shut down in 20 seconds.]

“ D o n ' t b e s a d , G u i l d L e a d e r . ”

[The server will automatically shut down in 10 seconds.]

“ I r e a l l y l o v e t h e c a f é m o c h a y o u m a k e m e . ”

[The server will automatically shut down in 3 seconds.]

[The server will automatically shut down in 2 seconds.]

[The server will automatically shut down in 1 second.]

“ S o , n e x t t i m e , t o o ”

When the countdown ended, the pixel world faded at once into 16-bit color.

Then, without an instant's pause, it collapsed to 8-bit, then 4-bit, then a landscape composed solely of black and white.

Our world's nourishment, its reality, its juices—all were being greedily swallowed by the butterfly above the void.

Sim Aryeon's lips moved, but only electronic sounds rang out—ah, ah, ah—sounds that could no longer readily be translated into a human voice.

At that moment, I felt the God of Alienation trying with all its might to “bewitch” me. I also knew instinctively that if I fell under its spell, I would lose even the chance to end my own life.

I kindled the last of my aura, hugging Sim Aryeon a little more tightly.

“ · ···· · ···· · ”

I could no longer understand Sim Aryeon's voice, which had now fallen below even 1-bit, but I was certain that it was the sound of a smile.

Blackout.

My reality met its “server shutdown.”

9

There are afterstories.

Quite a few of them.

I'd love to hurry along to a happy ending where I, Undertaker, launched my great counterattack and smashed the God of Alienation that had dared touch our world—but unfortunately, that was something I would only attempt much later.

I didn't begin developing a strategy for the “Operator of All Things at Play,” or the “Logout Game,” until after a staggering 555 runs.

So rather than jump straight to run 555 in this episode, I think I'll start with the smaller afterstories.

First, afterstory number one.

“W-what? Where am I?”

“Huh? Busan Station? I was in the park just a moment ago...”

“Cult Leader? Cult Leader, where are you?”

Murmurs filled the air.

Immediately after dying at the hands of the God of Alienation, I opened my eyes to familiar whispers.

The Busan Station waiting room.

Though I couldn't call it my hometown, I could call it a regressor's hometown. The people who had just been bewitched and trapped by the void were panicking.

‘Ah.’

A momentary exhaustion washed over me.

Even for a genius at managing his mental state like me, regression immediately after a bad ending like this was never entirely easy.

At times like these, I relied on my own regression routine. Get up quickly, walk to the vending machine and drink a Ceylon Tea, subdue the tutorial fairy and save Seo Gyu's life, then collect the silver bell from the souvenir shop. A sequence of routines. Habits. Suggestions. Rituals.

Wasn't it interesting?

In a circular world where everything repeated eternally, the way a human protected himself was to draw a circle a little smaller than the world. Thus the world became a clock with an hour hand and a minute hand, became tree rings tracing the rhythm of time, and at last became a round dance, dancing.

I sat up. I shifted my weight to wind the spring of life once more. And then—

TAP.

“...?”

Something entered my life.

A very lightweight laptop rested on my thigh.

‘A laptop?’

It was something I'd never seen before. By “never,” I mean this was truly the first time in all my runs that I'd seen a laptop like this sitting on my thigh.

My eyes widened.

I immediately switched it on.

BEEP. WHIRRR...

It took its time booting up.

My heart pounded. People were murmuring around me, but I ignored them all.

What mattered now was that this unidentified object had suddenly intruded upon my regression, upon my eternal round dance.

Soon, the desktop appeared. A desktop like a pure white sheet of drawing paper. There wasn't a single miscellaneous icon.

Only an unnamed text file sat all alone at the upper right of the screen.

“...”

CLICK.

Following my heart's lead, I clicked the file. A notepad window appeared on the laptop screen.

[ W h a t i s t h i s w o r l d ? ]

A single sentence.

In that instant, I knew instinctively. This laptop and its text file were none other than a spectral artifact left for me by the God of Alienation, the “Operator of All Things at Play.”

Was it a reward for the winner who had survived until the very end of the game it hosted? Or was this mysterious question-and-answer exchange itself another game?

As I was in run 135, I couldn't judge either way.

All I knew for certain was that, following the sword cane Doha, another item had become bound to my endlessly repeating regressions.

“Hmm.”

CLACK.

I typed a reply in the God of Alienation's notepad.

[ F U C K Y O U ]

...

The laptop gave no response.

What was the problem?

After thinking for a moment, I realized that it had asked its question in Korean, while I'd answered in English.

Clearly, that was my mistake. I hastily deleted my answer and hammered at the keyboard again.

[G o e a t a d i c k , y o u f u c k i n g b a s t a r d]

TICK.

The laptop went black. It had switched itself off.

It remained unusable afterward, only turning on again when I moved to the next run.

Apparently, I was given only two chances per run to answer the question.

10

The second afterstory.

As I've already said, acquiring a bound item in the form of a laptop didn't mean I'd successfully subjugated the God of Alienation.

So I needed a stopgap measure.

I gathered Noh Doha and the Saintess and impressed upon them:

“We need to start laying the groundwork now so that, if status windows appear, no one opens them under any circumstances.”

“Hmm...”

“We can't afford to be picky about our methods. Use the National Road Management Corps' authority and the constellations' whispers to constantly drum into people how harmful ‘status windows’ are, as though you're brainwashing them.”

“Well, understood...”

“Saintess, if you discover an awakened bewitched by a status window, notify us immediately. The National Road Management Corps will step in to arrest and imprison them.”

“Yes, Mr. Undertaker.”

“Lock the arrested awakened away for life. You can even treat them as death-row prisoners if necessary. If we spread rumors that they've been bewitched by a mental anomaly and spread it to those around them like a virus, we should be able to minimize resistance.”

The seventy-two death-row prisoners mobilized to subjugate Inunaki Tunnel. A considerable number of them were awakened imprisoned for this “crime of viewing a status window.”

My countermeasures didn't stop there.

‘Ultimately, much of the Logout Game's allure came from fulfilling the desire to advance. Dealing damage in visible numbers, gaining experience, and leveling up.’

Simply suppressing the awakened wouldn't be enough to stop the flood of “status windows.” Where there was desire, there would be demand.

I needed a substitute to satisfy people's desires, even a little.

That was “Café Hideout.”

-Goryeojang: (1000m) Your boss here likes quiet cafés, but doesn't mind lively ones either. But hardly anyone visits at my Depth, so I've accidentally ended up renting out the whole café, yeah... I'm bored, so hurry up and come down here.

└HundredFlowersNinthYear: (1200m) >_<);;

└Goryeojang: Dumbass lol. There's barely any difference between 1000 meters and 1200 meters, but you're so pleased with yourself you're showing off lmao

└HundredFlowersNinthYear: (1200m) The fish are pretty >_<);;

└Goryeojang: Fish? What fish?

└HundredFlowersNinthYear: (1200m) lol >_<);;

└Goryeojang: ???

The Depth system.

I assigned each awakened a numerical rank.

It was hard to tell the difference between level 10 and level 11. But I designed Café Hideout so that anyone could clearly see “the décor and service becoming more luxurious” between Depths of 100 and 200 meters, then 300 and 400 meters.

Those were my countermeasures.

Build a hideout in an undersea tunnel where mental anomalies couldn't readily intrude.

Design a Depth system and a café to satisfy the awakened's desire to advance.

Continually bombard people with National Road Management Corps decrees and constellation warnings to shape their perception of “status windows.”

These ironclad defenses succeeded. From run 197 onward, once all the precautions were in place, we never again met our end at the hands of the “Logout Game.”

All that remained for me as a regressor was to wait until a precise strategy could be developed.

That posed no particular problem. As this episode has demonstrated, I was very accustomed to waiting.

And so—

“Aryeon.”

“Y-yes? Heh? What's the matter...?”

“I saw a slime on my walk and brought it back. It's yours.”

“Whaaat? I was just in the mood to beat up a slime! H-how did you know...?”

“And these are doughnuts from Haeundae Bakery, the place you like. Here.”

“Huh? W-wait? Was today my birthday? G-Guild Leader is being nice to me! A miracle that happens maybe once every seven hundred days...!”

I think I'll end today's afterstories by watching our problem child happily munching on doughnuts after beating a slime with a club.

“Hehehe... Thank you, Guild Leader!”

-The Non-Player. End.