Chapter 11 - Chapter 11

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Translator: penny

Chapter: 11

Chapter Title: Rest Area

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BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Fire rained down from the sky like a biblical plague.

"Aaaagh!"

On the ground, explosions roared alongside screams filling the air.

In the final battlefield of the Trials, thick smoke mingled with the stench of burning flesh.

"Fuck, run!"

"Stop even for a second and you're dead!"

The thought of wanting to start everything over again—maybe I'd finally lost my mind, or perhaps my brain had been cooked by the scorching flames.

...Yeah, otherwise, who in their right mind would want to relive this hellish moment?

"Argh! It burns! Please, someone help..."

I silently gazed down at the people perishing in the inferno.

Suddenly, a stinging warmth spread through my fingertips, snapping me back to reality.

'...'

My lost senses were returning one by one.

Conversely, the memories of what had passed began sinking back beneath the surface.

Like a movie fading to black at its grand finale, leaving a lingering aftertaste, the sounds and lights were growing dimmer.

'...'

I took one last look at the battlefield.

The blazing earth, people sprinting across it, the shouts, screams, explosions.

A sight I'd forget for now but face again soon. Etching it into my eyes, I quietly closed them... then opened them again.

A blinding light soon enveloped my vision.

My vision cleared.

A familiar space. A bed sat in the middle, a mirror and bathroom on the left, and a door leading outside on the other side.

It was unmistakably a motel room.

The disposable toiletries on the shelf and the coffee shop ad added a touch of realism.

'Rest Area.'

Rest Area.

Some called it a lounge or a lobby, but it all meant the same—a place prepared for rest.

'The Tutorial just now was easy, but many Trials ahead will demand major breaks.'

You could heal severed limbs somehow, but the aftereffects lingered in the body.

That required time.

So before the next Trial, players got a chance to rest and regroup. That was the Rest Area.

And the first Rest Area was important in many ways.

Unique Ability.

In layman's terms, an innate talent you couldn't buy or inherit from anyone.

To cut to the chase, Shin Seo-yeon and Song Ha-na rose to the top for one reason: they got good Unique Abilities.

'It's judged by the potential engraved in your soul, so once assigned, it can't be changed no matter what. A real pain of a system.'

The epitome of unfairness and inequality.

Eighty percent of players were trapped by this so-called innate talent, unable to surpass their limits.

And I was no exception.

'Whew, as expected.'

I opened my skill window and gazed once more at the ability I'd seen tens of thousands of times before.

Note that the Luck stat itself didn't appear in the status window.

No one knew exactly how it worked.

'What a non-intuitive ability.'

If it plainly said drop rate +5%, evasion +10%, etc., my value would be easy to appraise.

But Luck didn't show numerically.

Maybe that's why.

-Hey, mister. Your ability might boost drop rates by 20%, or it might only be 1%. That's not enough to sell yourself.

Because of this vague Unique Ability, I went through hell every time forming teams to clear Trials.

No choice. Among the survivors of these damn Trials, empathetic folks were rare.

Kids betrayed each other like it was nothing, mothers sold their own children, and septuagenarians chased down young girls with erections, trying to rape them.

'No wonder Song Ha-na became the Saintess.'

So what could I do? They kept undervaluing me, and I had no choice but to take it.

Still, I liked my ability.

'Maybe because of it.'

Through countless battlefields, even surviving the final Trial—it was me, no one else.

All those fancy S-Ranks died, and over four billion people vanished into the afterlife.

Only I survived.

It was luck so tenacious, nothing else explained it.

'Yeah, otherwise it doesn't make sense.'

Even maxed Agility for shit-high evasion wouldn't dodge tens of thousands of spells pouring like a monsoon.

Maybe I'd gotten help from this Luck ability.

'Anyway, Unique Ability unchanged.'

I let out a sigh of relief at the unaltered future, tinged with regret, puffing air through my nose.

Huh?

A new 'Resident Privilege' tab appeared in my status window.

I tapped the never-before-seen option from the past decade, and the info popped up prominently.

'Huh?'

I stared blankly into space, feeling a bit dumbfounded.

'During the Selection Process, you can't view others' info.'

Sure, there were ways to peek, but only via Unique Abilities, so normally impossible.

Scams and crimes exploited that, of course...

'This is insane. Handing out something this good?'

But the surprises kept coming.

Other refugees got 10 inventory slots. That alone was a huge perk, and now extra funds per Rest Area?

'Treating residents a bit too well, aren't they?'

But it wasn't over. Notifications exploded in that moment.

Dozens of notifications poured down like rain. I just stared blankly.

"Uh, uh?"

I'd never heard of this. Wait... is this for real?

Even as I gawked, more piled up.

Suddenly, it stopped. A gift box popped into existence in mid-air, bounced off my hand, and rolled onto the bed.

Without asking my permission, the box shook on its own, shed its wrapping with a pop, and displayed a notification.

I stared blankly at the barrage of updated notifications for a while before belatedly yelling.

"Hey, what the fuck? Dumping all this on me out of nowhere?"

This feels like some noob-friendly RPG!

Don't they know showering newbies with stuff lowers the entry barrier too much?

Even reading the descriptions is annoying!

'...Whew, fine. They gave a lot, so I'll deal.'

No more notifications appeared.

I wanted to check everything out, but I couldn't leave the Saintess—who couldn't say no—alone. So I headed straight out.

The Rest Area was a peculiar space.

The lodging had a modern interior, but step outside and it was medieval times.

Exiting my room, I stood before the building. The cityscape gleamed like after a rain—spotless stone streets polished smooth over ages, solid underfoot with every step.

Medieval-style shops lined both sides. A breeze carried the scent of freshly baked bread, tickling my nose now and then.

Occasionally, the aroma of boiling meat wafted by.

And people walked these streets.

'Very few people.'

Fewer than the city's size suggested.

I wondered why briefly, then understood.

'Makes sense. They hunkered down until the Tutorial ended. I'm basically a latecomer now.'

In ten days, most had already moved on to the next Trial.

I looked around. No sign of the Saintess yet. With no choice, I sat by the inn door, scrutinizing each person who ghosted into existence from thin air.

'All Rest Area buildings defy normal physics.'

Inside and out were different dimensions. No unauthorized entry into another's.

A mercy from the Creator, perhaps, so distrustful humanity—scarred by Trials—could at least rest properly.

'Even the modern motel vibe fits that.'

Then a familiar silhouette appeared in the air.

Enormous, unmistakable tits. A clumsy woman in office attire materialized, looking around in confusion.

"Wh-where is this?"

"What? Dropped straight into a motel before, now some European tourist spot? Confusing, huh?"

"Ah!"

Hearing my voice, Song Ha-na looked down, spotted me, hurried over, and clung tightly with a relieved expression.

After ten days together, she seemed comfy by my side.

"You got cleaned up."

"Yeah. Sweated buckets."

No wonder she smelled nice.

"Did I keep you waiting long?"

"A bit."

"Oops, sorry. Go wash up now. I'll wait."

The Saintess huffed determinedly, face full of enthusiasm.

I chuckled. Why so fired up over waiting?

"Let's head out."

"H-huh? You don't need to wash?"

Minutes after appearing, eyes were already on her from all sides. Most glued to her massive breasts.

How could I leave her alone?

"I'll wash later. Food first."

"Oh, okay!"

Digging deep into distant memories, I moved forward.

Even in my second go, I'd only passed through once, so I barely remembered layouts.

Just spotting shops along the way: 'Oh yeah, this one's here.'

Fishing up submerged memories one by one.

Sticking close, Song Ha-na peered around and said,

"Seems like only Koreans here."

"Probably."

An outsider or two might be mixed in, but unlikely.

In the Selection Process, people from the same area grouped first. Gangnam folks with Gangnam folks, mostly.

'Groups merge through Trials.'

One merge per Trial, then another...

Like streams joining into rivers, flowing to the sea—Trial participants gradually combined.

'So no foreigners for a while.'

But running into acquaintances? Common.

'Speaking of.'

Walking down the street's center with Song Ha-na, I narrowed my eyes.

'Endgame stragglers? Quality's low.'

Lurkers leaned against walls, eyeing passersby greedily.

Spotting us, their eyes lit up like hyenas finding prey.

They approached.

But I grabbed the bloodied axe on my thigh, and they pressed against the walls, averting gazes.

"Huh? Min-jun, what's up?"

To the innocent Saintess, I flashed a bright smile.

"Nothing. Thought I saw a familiar face."

"Oh, really."

She bought it wholesale, resuming her curious gawking.

'Our Saintess has her head in the clouds. Adorable.'

Though that's both flaw and virtue.

Frustrating, but her presence paradoxically healed me.

She held a purity I could no longer have, corrupted as I was.

'Hmm, getting too excited like it's a day out.'

Seeing her beaming, I mischievously poked her nipple with a finger.

"Eek?"

Caught in public view, the Saintess flushed beet red and quieted.

She trailed obediently by my side, head down.

'So damn cute.'

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