YM778.TV Chapter 116 – Non-Player IV
7
Let’s talk about something else for a moment.
The phenomenon where humans become influenced by the presence of anomalies is often described as “gaining faith,” but there’s a much better term for it.
To be enchanted.
To be fascinated. To be captivated.
If you look at the Chinese character for enchantment, it contains the character for ghost.
Spirit. An irresistible attraction. Impulse. The ancients detected ghosts—i.e., anomalies—within that irresistible pull.
They also issued countless warnings.
Every anomaly is different. Naturally, the words to describe the attraction of anomalies are numerous.
Each of these characters means enchantment.
The reason why the ancients did not stick to one term and instead used various terms like 魅, is because even characters can be haunted by anomalies, and haunted characters turn into spells.
[PR/N: ‘魅’ has different meanings according to the context, charm, enchant, allure, bewitch, fascinate, depending on context, which is what the author is trying to say here, they didn’t use a ‘single’ word but many. Next few lines will explain it better I guess.]
It’s the same reason I use countless aliases when referring to anomalies.
If an anomaly were to occupy a single character or name entirely, it would be akin to providing the anomaly with a home. Thus, calling an anomaly by its name is essentially:
“Hey, ghost. Anomaly. This is your home. Come here.”
To reiterate, an anomaly’s name should never be fixed. If you must call it, use a different name each time, and if you lack the knowledge or experience to do so, it’s better not to call it at all.
As the founder of the ‘Library Society,’ I deliberately created multiple methods to call anomalies.
For instance, even for the Ten Clans.
‘The Crawling Chaos Cthulhu,’ ‘The Shadow Lord,’ ‘The Thorn Hell,’ ‘The Lurker.’
I used various aliases. Considering that the Ten Clans is not a mental-type anomaly but merely a physical one, the precautions might seem excessive.
Imagine then, how much more cautious one must be with the isolated god Endless.
‘The Celestial Transform,’ ‘School Ghost Story,’ ‘Night Parade of One Hundred Demons,’ ‘The Hundred Stories,’ ‘The Four-Letter Taboo,’ ‘The Hundred Tales,’ ‘The White Tales,’ and going further, though not often mentioned in stories, ‘Heraclitus’ Fire Ring,’ ‘The Backrooms,’ and so on…
I provided humans with more than enough options for calling them.
Only by doing so can anomalies be prevented from nesting, pushed away by the barrage of characters.
Today’s episode is no different.
At the start of the story, I named the anomaly ‘Online Game.’ But by now, you’ve probably guessed a more fitting name.
‘Logout Game.’
The fate of those captivated by this anomaly was an exit from reality.
-Anonymous: Crap game, no content.
-Anonymous: These days, I rarely log into the game. Even daily quests are a hassle…
-Anonymous: When does this game end?
-Anonymous: Looking for a Level 40 party!! No NPC porters, unfortunately.
-Anonymous: All the die-hard fans are gone, not many people left here.
-Anonymous: Wow, why is this dead game’s board still alive?
The periods during which players logged out grew longer, and the number of users logging into SG Net dwindled.
The community became increasingly desolate.
Throughout it all, there was one well-known member who persistently posted nonsense from start to finish.
-KoreanVillage: Today’s cafe mocha made by the Guild Leader NPC.png
└Anonymous: You still haven’t quit? What level are you?
└KoreanVillage: This great one has been max level for a while, now this one is just decorating the guild house instead of running dungeons.
└Anonymous: Max level, damn.
└Anonymous: But how does an NPC act as a Guild Leader? Is it a bug?
└KoreanVillage: The game company hasn’t patched it, so it’s probably not a bug?
Sim Aryeon.
Even as others quit the ‘game’ one by one, she continued.
What she did after logging into the game wasn’t much.
“Ah, what a crap game… It’s been two years without an update, no wonder players keep leaving, sigh…”
Complaining about the game.
“Guild Leader! Look at this! [Coffee Beans]! Hehe. Guild Leader, your affinity goes up if you get this item, right? Haha. It’s a rare drop from the Necromancer Lich, and I gathered them all for you! Come on, increase! Affinity, hurry up and increase…!”
Obsessing over an affinity system I couldn’t comprehend, bombarding me with gifts.
“Hehehe, hihi. Hihihi…”
Catching slimes at the Han River and beating them in every conceivable way.
Her gameplay pattern was so monotonous that even I couldn’t help but think, “Doesn’t she ever get bored?”
Perhaps she did get tired, as her daily logins gradually stretched to 1 day, 3 days, and 7 days.
Even that was more consistent compared to other players.
In fact, not only players, but NPCs were also dwindling.
At best, there were only Noh Doha and the Saintess left.
If I looked hard enough, Koyori might still be around, but there was no reason to risk seeking her out.
Eventually, I—Noh Doha—the Saintess, members of the regression alliance, decided to live together by the Han River.
Maintaining the National Road Management Headquarters no longer made sense, nor could we sustain ourselves solely in the aquarium mansion in Yongsan.
Most importantly, in this world, the warmth of life had become too scarce. It was inevitable for the last NPCs, or rather survivors, to band together.
“Hmm. It’s quiet…”
Noh Doha sipped his coffee, exhaling softly.
“The anomalies are quiet, holed up in their dungeons. The Awakened are motionless, like they’ve turned to stone. When I heard that Doctor Jang had gone through countless turns, I wondered what it would feel like to witness the end of the world firsthand… Is this what it looks like?”
“It’s rare for it to be this quiet.”
We watched the sunlight shimmering on the river for a while.
“I’ll volunteer for the experiment.”
The saintess spoke up.
“What?”
“To find out where the people who logged out have gone. Whether they’ve truly entered a death-like state or, as the Doctor Jang suspects, been dragged into the isolated god’s ‘divine realm.’ I’ll log into the game and find out.”
“It will be dangerous. Other Awakened only had the sensation of returning to reality without any significant impact. If you dive in consciously aware of the isolated god, who knows what kind of reaction you might provoke?”
“But we need information. You’re thinking about the next turn anyway, aren’t you? It’s better to take some risks and gain a bit more information.”
“…”
“Throwing oneself into the isolated god’s realm recklessly isn’t wise, as you pointed out. It might expose your abilities. So, I’ll handle the reconnaissance.”
She wasn’t wrong.
Normally, we wouldn’t use a card like the saintess just to perform a scout’s task.
In the chess game, the saintess played the role of the king. She was a vital piece that must never be captured or revealed.
However, there were no more Awakened left for her to monitor, and no need to act out the roles of the constellations.
We took a gamble.
In the guild’s basement, the saintess muttered softly.
“Status window.”
“…”
“…”
Noh Doha and I looked at the saintess.
“How is it?”
“…I can see my abilities. And my level. But the terminology for the awakening abilities is quite different.”
The saintess wasn’t looking at us but at the empty space before her, as if words were written there.
“Can you see the logout button?”
“Logout button… Ah, yes. Here it is. When I open the menu, it’s at the very bottom, labeled ‘Logout’.”
“Hmm.”
“I’ll press it now.”
At that moment, the saintess froze. Literally, her movements stiffened. The heartbeat that had been pounding in her chest, the gaze of her sky-blue eyes, and her light-colored hair fluttering in the river breeze—all stopped completely.
“…”
“Hmm.”
Noh Doha reached out a hand. But his hand simply sliced through empty air.
“I’ve experienced this several times now, but it’s always unpleasant. Seeing but not being able to touch is like an illusion, a mirage…”
“…”
“You decided to call this anomaly the ‘Logout Game,’ right? It seems it desperately wants to turn our world into fiction…”
I set the timer on my watch.
10 seconds.
That was the agreed time for the saintess to stay logged out before immediately exiting.
10 seconds passed.
The saintess didn’t move.
“…”
“…”
Expecting this might happen, we had set the second timing at 3 minutes.
2 minutes and 50 seconds passed.
The saintess still hadn’t moved.
Anticipating this as well, we had prepared for the third timing—
“Doctor Jang.”
“Yes.”
“She’s dead.”
“…”
“It’s not respectful to stare at the dead for too long. In case she returns, I’ll keep watch here. Doctor Jang, you should go upstairs…”
I agreed with Noh Doha’s words.
The light was shimmering along the riverbank.
I calmed myself, made two cups of coffee, and went back down to the basement, only to find Noh Doha’s motionless body.
“…”
I took one coffee back upstairs and never returned to the basement.
The next day, a message appeared before me.
[Urgent Patch Notice.]
[The Administrator of the Great Play of All Things announces the following: A severe bug was discovered in the game around 3 PM yesterday, leading to an emergency patch.]
[We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience caused to our players. Thank you.]
8
Sometimes, as a regressor, I wonder.
Perhaps others take life more lightly than I do, endlessly turning the wheel of reincarnation.
My mind holds the countless endings faced by the Saintess and the numerous deaths of Noh Doha.
My companions often overlooked how their deaths were etched into my memory.
‘I can’t die. Not yet.’
In a world left behind, a space that had become virtual to everyone but was still reality to me alone, I waited.
For the moment the Exiled God would reveal himself.
‘Now, the world is almost entirely in your grasp. You must be eager to declare your ultimate victory. But there’s still someone left to prove that [this is not a game].’
That someone was me.
‘I must be a thorn in your side, monster.’
To complete its emptiness, it must eliminate every impurity.
When the Exiled God could no longer endure, when he discarded the game’s facade and revealed his true form, when the [Administrator of the Great Play of All Things] showed their true colors, I intended to witness it and then die.
I wouldn’t die before then. Underestimating a regressor would be a mistake. Unlike the old man Scho, who would always end his life like a weakling, I had persistence.
“Guild Leader, how have you been? Ugh, real life has been so busy that it’s getting harder to log in… But I’ll always make sure to visit whenever I think of it! Hehe.”
The intervals between Sim Aryeon’s logins rapidly increased.
Logging in once a year, or even once every three years, wasn’t unusual anymore.
Talking to her, it seemed she wasn’t aware it had been three years. She thought it had only been about three weeks.
‘Time flows differently here.’
In the void, time’s distortion was expected. Even in Baekhwa High, Cheon Yohwa didn’t believe she had spent four years there.
I didn’t just sit and let the years pass by.
I entered dungeons known to be the most valuable among Korean players and hunted all the monsters.
Even when the monsters respawned after a while, I killed them all again.
For 11 years.
I, just an NPC, ruined what should have been experience points for the players.
[Emergency Patch Notice.]
[The Administrator of the Great Play of All Things announces the following: A severe bug was discovered, necessitating an emergency patch.]
[We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience caused to our players. Thank you.]
Soon, the dungeons disappeared.
“Hah.”
Was there no longer a need to pretend to maintain the game’s structure?
I went on to destroy every dungeon across the Korean peninsula. Each time, an ‘emergency patch’ occurred, and the meticulously crafted ‘game’ rapidly deteriorated.
The cities and towns where players once interacted met the same fate. Beautiful natural landscapes, streets, and hideous monsters—all objects were destroyed.
Only the stone-still figures of logged-out players remained scattered.
My rampage continued for 37 years.
[Emergency Patch Notice.]
[Emergency Patch Notice.]
[Emergency Patch Notice.]
At some point, the ‘game’ stopped even altering day and night.
It was evidence that the sun and earth had already fallen under the sway of an Exiled God-level monster.
The waters of the Han River halted. The cicadas’ summer songs ceased. Even when monsters respawned, they just wandered in place.
A bizarre world.
A broken game.
A virtual Eldorado where nothing was born, and nothing died.
Yet, my eternal memory, the blood coursing through my veins, and my constantly circulating aura affirmed that I was still alive.
Now, reality’s time was as long as my memories, and reality’s space was as large as my body.
[Emergency Patch Notice.]
212 years had passed.