Regression Is Too Much-Chapter 146

After deciding to gather information, three regressions took place.

That meant the 11th floor had been cleared three times, and for about five days, I had to act as the Reaper while camping out. Repeating the same thing every time, without fail, is painful. Without Choi Ji-won, I might have gone insane long ago.

Anyway, after investing so much time, I came to a rather astonishing conclusion.

“I can’t... do this anymore...”

Seriously, there was no major harvest this time. The only information I gained was realizing how arrogant I was for trying to collect data through the internet.

At one point, Choi Ji-won even tried to get friendly with the players on the 11th floor to extract information, but as soon as they returned to reality, they vanished like ghosts. The only response I received was, “Unless we become much closer, we can’t share information.” It seemed that joining their inner circle was a prerequisite.

“…”

For a regressor, information is power. But the fact I had overlooked was that, for all humans, information is power. In web novels, protagonists who regress from the distant future know every event that has happened, but in reality, players are not so generous as to share valuable information for free.

“Still, I did manage to gather some useful info...”

Although the major harvest was lacking, there were some small gains. First, I learned how players share information about floors they haven’t climbed yet.

You might think, “Isn’t it impossible to share information about floors they haven’t reached yet?” And you’re right. But players, using their wits, had devised their own methods.

First: They record the entry and exit times. Those who haven’t yet ascended the tower could estimate the difficulty of a floor based on the time the pioneers spent there. This method was well-known, even used by the Association, so it wasn’t exactly groundbreaking.

Second: They take pictures of themselves immediately after clearing a floor.

The tower’s filtering system is so meticulous that it prevents players from mimicking monsters or imitating their cries—anything that might give away the challenges posed by the tower. But taking a simple photo of oneself after clearing a floor, without doing anything else, is allowed.

Here’s the point: the injuries on a player’s body could reveal a lot. Were they clawed? Hit by a weapon? Burned? Frostbitten? Of course, if someone let monsters injure them intentionally, the wounds wouldn’t appear in the photo—it seemed only unintentional injuries were recognized.

“Felix, a German player, shared this with me. He deduced that the 10th floor had a cold region as its backdrop after seeing a frostbitten player’s photo.”

If I could get my hands on such photos, they would be quite useful. The problem, however, is that acquiring those photos requires connections, not money.

Why not just build connections, you ask? Thanks to Choi Ji-won, I haven’t had such experiences recently, but having someone close to me not recognize me is truly, truly painful. Unless I plan to date someone else entirely… I’d rather avoid getting too close to others.

Ha, why hasn’t something like an “Information Guild” popped up? A guild where you can simply pay to get all the information you need. If such a guild existed, I could exploit it endlessly during my regressions. It’s truly disappointing that reality lacks such conveniences.

In the end, my attempt at information gathering ended in failure. The transient nature of players, spending most of their time in the tower, made it hard to track their movements. And since the Reaper’s death, players have become even more secretive about their whereabouts.

Even Michael Jeter, the president of the Player Association, has been untraceable lately. It seems fear of another assassin like the Reaper emerging has everyone on edge. (Perhaps the difficulty in gathering information stems from the Reaper.)

Eventually, I gave up on collecting information and repeated the previous regression. I cleared the 11th floor, sought out the Reaper for a conversation, returned to Korea quickly, got plenty of rest, ate well, and equipped all the gear I obtained from the 11th floor.

“So, we’re going in together, right?”

“Yeah.”

With Choi Ji-won, I stepped into the 12th floor.

Entering the 12th floor.

As soon as I opened my eyes, I saw… a bed. And not just any bed—a modern-looking one. I found myself in a rather spacious room.

It wasn’t just the bed. There was a water purifier, a bookshelf, a microwave, a wardrobe, and even a toilet. Aside from the white walls giving off a hospital-like vibe, the room exuded the clear scent of modern civilization. Compared to the fantasy-like settings up to now, this was the complete opposite. The steel armor I was wearing felt wildly out of place.

“Ji-won? Can you hear me?”

I raised my voice to call for Choi Ji-won, but there was no response.

What’s this? Is this a solo floor? More importantly, my voice echoed down the hallway outside.

Following the sound, I opened the door and stepped outside.

“...?”

The scene outside the door was… a flickering light and a silent hallway with five doors.

Four of them were along the same wall as the room I had come out of, while one large door stood on the opposite wall.

“Ji-won?”

Calling out to Choi Ji-won, I cautiously opened the door next to the room I had just exited.

Inside, I found a room identical in design to the one I had just left. The only difference was that it was empty.

“Hmm...”

No sign of life could be felt. The only sound was my own voice murmuring, “Hmm...” as I glanced around. After briefly surveying my surroundings, I approached the only door that was different in size—a large, imposing one.

“...”

Updat𝓮d from freewēbnoveℓ.com.

As I placed my palm gently against the door, a message window appeared before my eyes.

[1/5]

“Hm.”

It seemed that this floor required five people to proceed. Floors like the 3rd and 4th had similar mechanics, where collaboration was necessary. Is this another cooperative floor?

No, I shouldn’t jump to conclusions. As seen on the 11th floor, the archangel in charge of this floor has a penchant for inducing conflict among people. Even if five people gathered, it wouldn’t be surprising if the challenge turned into a sudden battle royale.

Choi Ji-won… probably got separated from me. She must have entered the 12th floor slightly before me and ended up in a room with four other people. If this floor also aims to provoke conflict between players, being separated from her might actually be a good thing.

“Okay, understood.”

After roughly assessing the situation, I nodded and returned to the room where I had started. Without delay, I removed the armor weighing down my shoulders—though relatively light, it still pressed heavily—and sprawled on the bed. There was nothing to do until the required number of people gathered.

“Ah, so soft.”

Lying on the bed, I stretched out my arm to grab a book from the bookshelf. Hmm. It was written in a language I had never seen before. While this world seemed to mirror modern civilization, it clearly wasn’t Earth. Hoping I might find an illustrated book, I skimmed through several others, but there wasn’t much I could understand.

While wasting time flipping through the books, the microwave—which had been empty—suddenly chimed with a ding! as the door opened by itself. Turning my head to peek inside, I spotted a steaming spaghetti meal kit.

“Wow, they even provide food?”

Were they feeding us so we wouldn’t starve while waiting? Or… was this part of the tower’s trial? Perhaps they were simulating a “waiting for other players” scenario, with the tower’s rewards varying based on how I responded...

As this is a higher-level floor with fewer climbers, meals and amenities are provided.

A conveniently timed message window popped up. It seemed my theory was just a figment of my imagination. Of course, on a high-ranking floor like this, it’s unlikely that other players would show up immediately. For floors that required a certain number of participants to begin, waiting times were inevitable. Prolonged waiting could lead to all sorts of problems, so providing amenities made sense.

I pulled the spaghetti out of the microwave and twirled it around my fork before stuffing a mouthful into my mouth.

“...Tastes bad, though.”

To be honest, it didn’t taste great, but I could confidently say it was a hundred, no, a thousand times better than the days I spent camping on the 11th floor. Back then, I had to chew on raw meat with grass as a side dish.

The fact that this floor had a modern civilization setting was a blessing. With such comforts, I could patiently wait for the others to arrive. The only thing I worried about was the possibility of having to repeat this waiting process if I regressed. Lately, I’d been feeling an inexplicable fatigue, and I couldn’t shake the thought that my mental state might worsen.

No, let’s not dwell on things that haven’t happened. Let’s take it easy. Surely, the others will arrive within a couple of days. After all, players from all over the world are gathering here. For now… should I take a nap?

Resting my head on the soft pillow, I drifted off to sleep. Even though I had gotten plenty of rest before entering the 12th floor, the mental exhaustion far outweighed it, and I fell asleep almost instantly. At that moment, I felt, “This isn’t so bad, actually.”

And so, a week passed.

[1/5]

I was still alone.