Chapter 137 - Surviving (2)

2

I opened my eyes in a dark abyss. Everywhere I looked, there was only pitch-black darkness. It was the Underworld I returned to whenever I died.

[Death has fulfilled the skill conditions.]

[Randomly copying a skill from the Heaven-Slaying Star.]

I was dazed with shock. Of course I had known that the Heaven-Slaying Star’s story had happened in the past. But I had never imagined... that this past also held the director’s childhood.

'The Heaven-Slaying Star and the director were classmates.'

They had attended the same school. Been in the same classroom. Shared the same time. For one of them, time had stopped forever. For the other, the hour hand had stayed still for a lifetime.

One person’s clock had shattered.

The other’s had broken.

'Why...?'

Anger crushed my heart.

'Why is it always the good who are shattered and broken? Why do the people who inflict wounds remain unscathed, while the wounded have to die? Why does the world become hell only for those who feel guilt?'

My anger sank without ever finding the bottom. My emotions settled. But settling did not mean they disappeared. They merely accumulated from the bottom up.

The waterline in my heart rose a little higher.

A waterline that would someday overflow in a raging torrent.

“Heh.”

A voice flowed into my overheated mind. It was my attendant spirit.

“Nothing in the world tastes sweeter than watching this zombie bastard let his guard down and get himself killed. Since becoming a ghost, I’ve seen everything worth seeing and plenty that wasn’t, but if there’s one upside, it’s watching Kim Zombie lose. Hahahaha!”

“...”

“Well? The fiftieth floor isn’t so easy, is it? The Heaven-Slaying Star isn’t easy prey, huh? Why’d you cheat your way up to the fiftieth floor, anyway? You brought this on yourself. It’s karma, asshole!”

My attendant spirit snickered.

He spoke as though [I had been fighting the Heaven-Slaying Star until mere moments ago]. Hearing his tone, I realized something.

'... He couldn’t come into this trauma with me.'

Until now, we had traveled through the traumas together. Starting with the [Infernal Mansion], then Hungry Ghost, Master, and Raviel. Sometimes my attendant spirit complained about what he saw, and sometimes he fell silent. But he was always with me.

This time was different.

I had spent a month peering into the trauma alone.

“I had a nightmare.”

“Huh?”

My attendant spirit blinked.

“A nightmare? What nightmare?”

“The trauma. This one was a little strange, Sword Emperor. You weren’t with me, and the Heaven-Slaying Star’s mental landscape wasn’t recreated exactly, either. It was almost like there’d been an error...”

I told him about the trauma, retracing what had happened. Of course, I never mentioned that the Sword Emperor had appeared as my father. Why bring that up and have him milk it until every hair on my head had rotted away?

“Hmm.”

After hearing my story, my attendant spirit fell deep into thought.

“That’s strange. And here’s why: it makes no sense that I wasn’t with you. People call me a ghost or a spirit for convenience, but technically speaking, I’m a [skill].”

He was right.

+

[Sword Constellation]

Rank: A+

Effect: A native of another world. He cleared that world’s Tower up to the ninety-ninth floor, but was thwarted with the hundredth floor before him. His lingering resentment prevented him from passing on, leaving him an attendant spirit. He cannot physically interfere with this world, but can meddle with his owner’s mind.

Seek advice from his wealth of experience and incredible abilities!

※However, no one other than the owner can perceive the attendant spirit.

※This skill was copied from hunter Markus Kallenberg.

+

My attendant spirit was, ultimately, a skill. He had memories of his life, but in the end, he was contained in a skill card.

“In short, I’m freeloading off you. A mental tenant, you might say? Unless you forcibly tear up the card, there’s absolutely no reason I shouldn’t be able to follow you into a trauma.”

Yet he had been unable to enter this one.

“... You’re right. What’s going on? Something’s strange.”

“Hmm.”

The two of us puzzled over it side by side in that utterly dark space. Time passed, but no answer came. Eventually, my attendant spirit wore himself out and snapped.

“Ah, forget it! I can’t be bothered thinking anymore! Just remember what was strange, and an answer will turn up someday. Hurry up and pick that Heaven-Slaying Star bastard’s skill! How long has it been since the demonic arts? Golden Silk Blossom or whatever her name was relied entirely on constellation blessings. Her skills were worth jack shit.”

Had they reacted to his words? Cards appeared in the darkness.

[Generating skill cards.]

[Please select a skill card.]

Ten cards formed in all, an array of silver and gold. They darted through the air as though they had wings.

“Now, let’s rummage through the Heaven-Slaying Star’s assets! Well, well, this bastard. He’s been hogging all the slick skills for himself. This is why hunters who focus their training on skills are so damned annoying. Huh? Look at this!”

My attendant spirit eagerly sneaked peeks at the backs of the cards. Of the skills he read, two caught my attention.

+

[Puppeteer’s Parade]

Rank: S

Effect: In a certain world lived an old puppeteer. The puppeteer feared being loved by anyone. Yet the puppeteer was not strong enough to endure eternal solitude.

'I’ll make another me,' the puppeteer devised. 'Let that other me be loved. Let that other me live. With people, among people. And if that other me gets hurt... I’ll throw it away.' The puppeteer whispered, 'Erase it forever.'

Countless puppets lived.

Countless puppets were discarded.

This skill is a dark art for the weak. The right to choose which memories to keep and which to discard. You can create thirteen puppets with exactly the same appearance and abilities as yourself. When a puppet dies, another awakens. Broken puppets can be repaired.

To you, an imitation of everlasting life. An assembled eternity.

※However, memories are not shared between puppets.

+

There lay the Heaven-Slaying Star’s secret.

'Thirteen puppets in total.'

What had happened to his original body? Was it included among the puppets? Or did it exist separately, asleep in some corner of this vast universe?

I listened in on the next secret.

+

[Deliverance of the Torn Goddess]

Rank: A+

Effect: There was a goddess devoted to a certain hero. Although the hero tore her apart, she still wished to stand at his side. The goddess fell from heaven and sealed herself inside a skill card.

The goddess converts memories into power. By offering her your memories, you can strengthen your abilities and combat power. The more important the memories you offer are to you, the greater the enhancement.

※However, the enhancement does not last long.

+

“...”

The goddess probably meant the [Goddess of Protection]. The hero would be the Heaven-Slaying Star.

There was no doubt.

The [Goddess of Protection] had been split into five parts: Idol, Compassion, Prayer, Sacrifice, and Deliverance. I had gathered four of those parts. The last remaining one, Deliverance, was with the Heaven-Slaying Star in the form of a skill.

“Hmph.”

My attendant spirit snorted.

“Just what you’d expect from the Heaven-Slaying Star. Every last one of his skills is creepy. All ominous. The abilities are decent, but there isn’t a single pleasant one. No wonder the constellations that go wild over broken people like him...”

I nodded.

“I’ve decided which one to choose.”

“Hmm. The drawbacks far outweigh the advantages, don’t they?”

My attendant spirit objected.

“Just pass. You don’t need either [Puppeteer’s Parade] or [Deliverance of the Torn Goddess] right now. I hate to admit it, but your current skill lineup is pretty well-rounded. Apart from that damned Goblin High Society...”

“Goblin High Society is a skill that will soar someday.”

“The only thing soaring will be your head. No, wait, it’s already flown off spectacularly once. Anyway, wouldn’t adding some half-assed skill here just ruin your synergy?”

“Yes. I think so too. But I have a use for it.”

I had to defeat the Heaven-Slaying Star. But my victory did not mean eliminating him.

'I have to do much better than that.'

I would make him acknowledge that his methods were wrong. Rather than merely overpowering his combat strength with mine, [my way] would defeat [his way].

That was victory.

'Heaven-Slaying Star.'

I reached for a card.

'Lefanta Aegim.'

Thinking of the hunter with many names.

Thinking of his first name, which I still did not know.

[Selection complete.]

[Copying skill.]

[Regressing to twenty-four hours ago.]

■■.

Let’s end our old nightmare.

3

When I returned one day into the past, I had yet to clear the [Fairy Tales] world. I had spent an entire month in the Heaven-Slaying Star’s trauma, yet not even a day had passed in the Tower.

In the end, I had to clear the [Fairy Tales] world again. Knowing in advance that [The Immortal Evangelist of Happiness] was planning an ambush made it easier than before. Still, it drained my mental and physical energy all the same.

'From now on, I should rest for at least a day between climbing floors...'

I felt the value of a save point all over again.

“Count.”

“Hmm?”

Immediately after clearing the fairy-tale world and returning to the Great Library, I approached the Count.

“I have a small favor to ask.”

“What is it? What is it, jewel of our Tower? Treasure of our Union? Ask anything! I’ll grant it.”

The Count greeted me more brightly than usual. Her mouth formed the letter w. Was she happy because clearing the stage had cost less than expected?

For a moment, I recalled the Count’s appearance in the trauma.

[“He sent a text like that.”]

[“Isn’t he seriously crazy?”]

I faltered.

“What’s wrong?”

The head of the Union tilted her head before me.

“You’ve suddenly gone a little pale.”

“... No, it’s nothing. I just spaced out for a moment.”

I shook my head, quickly shaking off those thoughts. The classmate in the trauma had merely imitated the Count’s appearance. She was a fake. To identify that fake even slightly with the person before me was a terrible insult to the Count.

“Did you overexert yourself in that apocalypse just now? Be careful. You must take care of yourself while you’re young if you don’t want to keel over when you’re old. Anyway, what’s the favor?”

“I’d like to send a letter to the outside world,” I said.

“It doesn’t have to be a letter, but there’s someone outside I need to contact as soon as possible. You have the ability to communicate with the outside world, don’t you? I’d like to ask you to send it.”

“Oh? Of course, that’s easy enough.”

The Count opened her fan.

“If it doesn’t have to be a letter, we should use something more convenient. Which country are you sending it to? Sending letters to a country whose government has collapsed is rather difficult.”

“It’s all right. I’m sending it to the country where I was born.”

“Your country, Death King... Ah, then that’s fine. There’s an ambassador stationed there, so we can make contact right away. Let’s see. Where has that woman gone?”

The Count looked around. Not only we, but all the hunters with epithets had gathered in the Great Library. Spotting one of them, she pointed with the tip of her fan.

“Communicator! Madam Communicator! Come over here a moment.”

“... What is it now?”

A hunter who looked middle-aged approached. The seventh-ranked hunter: the Wide-Area Communicator.

She wore a sari, a traditional Indian garment, draped over her shoulder. Perhaps she was on bad terms with the Count; she scowled fiercely the entire way over.

“Allow me to introduce her. This is the Wide-Area Communicator. We come from the same place. Ahaha, though our birth castes are as far apart as heaven and earth!”

“If you called me over to spout nonsense, I’m leaving.”

“Whoa, whoa. Calm down, esteemed Brahmin. I’ll designate a sanctuary connected to the outside world, so just establish communications for a moment. It’s a country with an ambassador, so it shouldn’t be much trouble.”

“Why should I...?”

“It’s not my request. It’s Death King’s.”

The Wide-Area Communicator turned to me. I brought my hands together and bowed politely.

“Please.”

“...”

She also joined her hands in greeting. The middle-aged hunter looked at my face, then the Count’s, and sighed as though giving up on something.

“... I would reject that vulgar creature’s request without a second thought. But Death King, I too have watched your dedication to the Tower from afar. Dedication deserves recompense. I will help.”

“Ahhh. As expected, it’s so easy to reason with someone so noble. Excellent, truly excellent.”

“Wag your tongue one more time and I’ll leave.”

“Oh dear, you wouldn’t do that. How ungenerous. Fine, fine. Oh, I said fine. Let’s get this done!”

Smiling, the Count took out a small pouch. She scooped out a handful of glittering purple powder and scattered it in a circle on the library floor.

“I beseech the Great Mother. I beseech you. Longing is a sorrowful wish; let that wish not be torn into screams. Permit me to be beside you, beside you let me remain. Here in this place, the Count Cat requests a small sanctuary.”

WHOOOOSH!

Violet light emerged from the purple powder. An area exactly the size of a telephone booth was bathed in violet.

Then the Wide-Area Communicator spoke to me.

“Give me your smartphone.”

“Oh, yes.”

I handed her my phone. Bending her finger, she tapped it three times. It looked as though she had traced a triangle with her fingertip.

“Pass through. Connect. Noise becomes sound when it reaches someone; when a person is here and a person is there, all creation sings and all things join the chorus.”

Blue light enveloped the smartphone. The Wide-Area Communicator gave a slight nod.

“Take it.”

I took it back.

The Count beamed.

“Step into the sanctuary, Death King.”

The Wide-Area Communicator frowned.

“If you call, they will receive it. If you send an email, they will reply.”

“Call charges are calculated separately, but I’ll cover that much!”

“However, under our agreement with the outside world, all communications must remain within the bounds of international law. I doubt it will be an issue, but do not include any discussion of crimes in your communications.”

“Well, if you need something kept absolutely confidential, tell me separately. There’s always a back route.”

The two spoke as though it were nothing. Yet the fifth- and seventh-ranked hunters were working together. Only a handful of people could enjoy such a privilege.

“Yes, thank you.”

Holding my smartphone, I entered the sanctuary.

“...”

Then, one digit at a time, I dialed [the first phone number I had ever memorized]. It had been years since I last dialed it. Human memory was strange: however much time passed, it seemed to remember that first number.

RING... RING...

The ringing continued for a while. If the person had changed their number, this would be meaningless. But they had told me they would never change it as long as they lived, so I could call the same number anytime.

CLICK.

Those words had not been a lie.

“Hello?”

I couldn’t speak.

“Hello? Who is this?”

“...”

The voice was a little older than the one that had cried out on the rooftop in the trauma. A little more tired. But its essence had not changed, and hearing that unchanged voice, I regretted waiting until now to make contact.

Of course I should have called sooner.

Even if I had abandoned the outside world to enter the Tower, I hadn’t needed to abandon its people too.

“... Director. It’s me, Gongja. Kim Gongja.”

Silence lingered on the other end of the phone.

“Yes, it’s been a long time.”

The director.

The oldest voice in my memory flowed into my ears.