278 - Regression Is Too Much

278 – The Return to Advancement (4) As it turned out, the individuals summoned in the initial tutorial possessed characteristics superior to the ordinary players. Their lowest points were significantly higher, and their highest points soared well beyond... In essence, their average capability was considerably better. Thus, the atmosphere of this tutorial differed significantly from others. “Dead? Is that him?” “Wow. I was so pumped up and dashed to test my abilities, but when I looked later, I saw only my arm was left.” “Ugh…” First of all, the number of deaths was remarkably low. Unless someone was reckless due to their abilities or incapable of controlling their nature and met their end, no one typically died. Simply put, there was no one here who couldn’t protect their own body. Was that also the reason? “Hey, what are you doing over there?” “Don’t come any closer.” “…What’s your problem? Don’t be so touchy.” “If you don’t want to come, then don’t.” “Did you get the golden ball? Hah, I see. Alright, I’m leaving, I’m leaving.” “… “ “… “ The first tutorial was dominated by an air of exclusivity. There were no allies here. Only adversaries and potential foes. Americans, by nature, were cautious of those armed. With these traits ingrained in their bodies, everyone wielded a weapon. They didn't need anyone's help to survive. There was no necessity for alliances. In such a scenario, the rules encouraged competition, and some players, drunk on power, even caused accidents. After the model-turned-police officer killed someone, no one trusted others anymore. No, they no longer trusted common sense. Considering this was a space where only 50 out of 201 could survive, perhaps this was expected. “Goblin Shaman? Minotaur?” “…This is so annoying.” Meanwhile, Michael Jeter found his boss. The Goblin Shaman was sealing the Minotaur, and if you killed the Shaman to open the portal, the Minotaur would be released. This was a way for everyone to survive, but it was fraught with danger. ‘Can’t I just kill the Shaman now?’ ‘Everyone else is running away… Do I really need to do that?’ ‘If I could save everyone, I’d like to. But that monster… it looks too formidable.’ Everyone was weighing options, calculating with their mental abacus. The risk was too great for the public good. On the contrary, surviving alone seemed more feasible. Thinking about the distance... Roughly 10 people might manage to pass through the portal before the monster would strike. However, if you do that, everyone else will die. This was the reason for my hesitation and inability to act rashly. Humans are better creatures than we often give them credit for. Of course, I couldn’t guarantee this would hold true once the allure of the golden beads ran out. “Hmm… I have a plan… Okay…” Around that time, the Goblin Shaman wanted to offer a suggestion. It was a proposal tantalizingly sweet yet laced with poison. A proposition that seemed to promise salvation for all if executed correctly. “No, I have a plan. You, just stay put.” “…?” This is where Michael Jeter stepped in. “I'll distract the monster while you all make it through the portal.” “…What?” “Are you ready to sacrifice yourself now?” “NO? I genuinely think I’ll make it out alive?” “Look at the size of that monster. Hey, Jeter. I know you're something else. The rumors going around are extraordinary. But it’s not making any sense.” “You can. If it's me.” The plan itself mirrored Choi Ji-won's, but it was borne from Jeter’s confidence and pursuit of efficiency. Combining forces meant involving others in the plan. It meant more variables were introduced, and so was the potential for failure. But what if Jeter did it alone? Michael Jeter was not convinced he would fail. In fact, he was even calculating the possibility of defeating the Minotaur. A sense of victory and responsibility whirled inside him. “I’m a soldier. You’re an American citizen. It’s only natural. Right?” “…You.” “If you truly appreciate it, go back to the real world and send me a box of donuts. Can you tell me the address?” “…While it’s true that even if you clear the tutorial, there’s no guarantee you can return to the real world.” “…That’s true.” Jeter’s calculations said yes. He was offering to sacrifice himself, but he wasn’t foolish enough to turn down this opportunity. “That Minotaur is mine.” No, there was only one person. “I can kill it. Jeter, don’t fool around.” The striking woman who stepped forward, brandishing her spear, was the one who would later be known as the 'Empress'. She wasn’t particularly tall and had more of a girl’s grace than a woman’s. Yet, she possessed a distinct elegance that could not be underestimated. -Creak! A woman flicked her almost white blonde hair and struck her spear into the ground. “I like it. I’m the one making the decisions. So, you should hurry through that portal.” “…Hey. Miss. This isn’t efficient. I’d rather handle it myself…” “No, it's my responsibility? Why don’t you understand what I’m saying?” “… “ “… “ At that moment, the pair felt it. They were somewhat alike... Fundamentally different types, yet neither one would back down nor compromise. “Hey. Loser. Is everyone on this island here, right?” “Uh, uh, yes.” The Empress inquired of the girl standing some three steps behind her. Upon hearing the girl’s response, she let out a sharp grin. “Alright then. Let’s proceed efficiently.” -Swish! Without hesitation, she thrust her spear into the Goblin Shaman’s neck. “K… Eh…” “Hey, you crazy witch!” “What are you doing!” “Why aren’t you running already? We don’t have time~” The portal opened. The seal was broken. The Empress let out a laughter that bordered on madness. Michael Jeter lunged forward, eyes wide open. Countless people leaped towards the portal to ensure their survival. The Minotaur roared. “Are you insane!!!” “It’s a one-on-one! Oh, and just so you know, I’ve never lost a duel in my life. Keep that in mind~” “Guooooo!!!!” A woman wielded her spear. A man clenched his fists. A drooling bull-headed monster. The image of these three clashing was the last thing most players recalled. No one was certain of the outcome, but at least two individuals came out alive. Evidence of this was a man and a woman entering the tutorial courtroom simultaneously. “… “ “… “ The atmosphere was intensely cold. Wasn’t it enough to have survived? ** Michael Jeter was a former special forces agent and still an active civil servant dealing with national security issues. Naturally, he did what had to be done. “Get in the van.” “Yes.” “Have you been using drugs?” This meant the report had been forwarded upstairs. “The first part seemed unbelievable, but… the latter part was completely blank.” “The latter part… You can’t see it?” “Exactly. Completely blank. I know you’re an odd one, but what were you really thinking? Have you considered what might happen if I forwarded this?” “… “ “Seeing your face, I think I’ll let it slide this time. Just kidding.” “Yes. I apologize.” “Take a good rest and see you tomorrow.” Jeter, who got off work early thanks to his boss’s consideration, dined nearby, wandered through the park, called up some friends, and spent the night at a bar. It was a routine day, indistinguishable from any other. Yes, quite ordinary. “… “ I told my friends about what happened in the ‘Tower’. They showed no sign of acknowledging Jeter’s account. Perhaps, the events within the tower were things one couldn't easily share. Memories kept alone, unable to be conveyed… Can we say they truly occurred? Even now, the blue portal that could supposedly be opened at will seemed like a mere illusion. Wasn’t the feeling of time slowing down and the ability to morph one’s body merely a deceit of the mind? Even after drinking heavily, I felt perfectly fine… -Thud. “Hmm.” As Jeter opened the front door, something bumped against his foot: a large box of donuts. A small sticky note was affixed on top. -Thank you, Jeter. I kept my promise. “…Ha.” Jeter’s sharp mind quickly grasped the situation. Those who climbed the tower… it seemed the information could be shared. He wasn’t alone. What he experienced wasn’t a hallucination. It was real. It's time to move forward. “I prefer glazed to chocolate.” Jeter walked into his home whistling and immediately logged onto the Internet. There was no better place for him to gather people and influence. As a security expert, Jeter knew how to leverage human psychology. Most importantly, his 'adaptive' ability could enhance brain function in these scenarios. To counteract this, he needed to consume plenty of water, sugar, and sodium. “Interesting photos that spread easily on social media… Just include the story of the tower. After all, ordinary people can’t read it. This will be more efficient.” Jeter did not hide. Instead, he put himself on display. He played an outstanding central role in the tutorial and saved many people. Supported by genuine achievements rather than empty boasts, his influence continued to grow. Subsequently, about two more tutorials took place in the United States, but they were not as fortunate as the first. The number of survivors was low. As they faced these horrendous experiences, Jeter slowly became a deity. Thanks to Jeter, people survived… In this way. It wasn’t entirely wrong, but it was precisely what Jeter intended. “The players are too powerful. Without the right focus and control, they could turn into criminal gangs. I must remain at the center.” Jeter believed in himself. Reality rewarded his convictions. The name ‘Michael Jeter’ quickly became renowned, and there was no one, at least among American players, who didn’t know of Michael Jeter. Time passed. Jeter was well-established, becoming accustomed to his abilities and pondering whether to ascend to the second floor. “Get in the van.” “Yes.” “Wasn’t there a report from last time?” “…Yes.” “The VIP read the report.” “…What?” “They’ve asked to meet with you sometime.” Standing on the border between the ordinary and the extraordinary, Jeter was once again pulled into the extraordinary. It was the White House. The reception room. “Pleased to meet you. I’m always grateful for your dedication.” The US President, seen only on TV, extended his hand to Jeter. “It’s an honor, Mr. President.” Jeter shook hands very respectfully, yet subtly glanced behind the president. “Well… Hello?” There stood the young boy grumbling, holding the hefty ledger I had seen during the tutorial. The way he wielded the book as a weapon to crush goblins' skulls was impressive. “Now that the introductions are over, what I’m about to discuss is highly confidential.” The US President spoke, crossing his legs. This marked the beginning of the Players' Association.