Clearing the Game at the End of the World

Chapter 181: Wizard of Wizards (1)

****

Scratch, scratch.

Click.

Scratch, scratch.

"President?"

"Hmm. What is it?"

"I'm concerned that you might have had too much to drink Perhaps it would be best to call it a day and rest at home."

Young looked down at the glass he held in his left hand upon hearing his aide's words.

Click.

A thick whiskey glass. It seemed like it had just been refilled 10 minutes ago, but now only clear ice was rolling around the bottom of the glass.

"If I may be so bold, it seems your drinking has increased quite sharply recently-"

"That is indeed overstepping. There's no need for me to sign anything in a drunken stupor, so you should head home too. Didnt you say your wife is expecting a second child? You ought to be at home with her, not stuck here with a drunkard."

"How could I leave you here alone and take my ease?"

"Do I need to make it an order? Do I really need to weigh the hierarchy and loyalty of my subordinates?"

"I'll be leaving first then. Sir. Rest well."

Click.

Lucky hes quick on the uptake. I was worried hed cling and be a nuisance.'

Young was well aware of his situation. The last remaining leader of Dome and the pivotal figure for human survival. If he sought a moment of peace in his drunken state, the chaos that would ensue was imaginable.

Surely the other directors must have insisted. Never to leave the President alone, saying he's the future of humanity. The aide, instead of staying by his side as they said, chose to give him some time alone.

Click.

He opened a hidden door in the back of the study and took out a bottle of liquor from a rustic glass display cabinet inside.

As he rose to a high position, all sorts of bribes and solicitations piled up, unseen, but he had rejected all except for high-quality liquors. After locking up the ones who solicited him in the Underdome, he'd quietly keep the booze. It was Alexander Young's joy in life. If the world ever stabilized and peace returned, he often pleased himself thinking that half a book could be written about this panic room turned secret bar.

"It's pitiful."

He had nearly emptied it. Just two months. In just two months, he alone had consumed nearly twenty bottles of high-quality liquor, relics aged over 60 years. It wasn't right to blame his increasing drinking. His drinking buddy had passed away first, after all. Wasn't the amount of liquor he needed to drink doubled?

"Mikhail you foolish man."

Throughout his life, Mikhail had always maintained a stony facade, appearing cold, but Young knew. He was someone who held his feelings so deep inside that they never leaked out.

He simply wanted to make the world right. Without compromise. Without discrimination.

Creeeeak- Plunk!

Glug, glug, glug, glug-

Tak.

After filling his glass with the dark brown liquid, Young sat back down and turned his eyes to the disorganized papers spread out in front of him.

[December Additional Refugee Survival Location Candidate List]

[Meeting Notes on Decrease in Ammunition Production Due to Reduction in Scavengers]

[Reduction in Surveillance Areas Due to Station Cutbacks, Resulting Decrease in Responsive Capabilities and Measures]

[*Confidential* Adapter Activity Report]

"I never thought the world would change so little in my time."

Two months ago, there was a major accident in District 30.

Young blamed himself for the disaster, considering it a man-made calamity brought on by his own arrogance.

He had thought he was fully aware of everything within his sight, but regrettably, he had overlooked those lost in righteous madness', those who threw themselves into their beliefs.

Due to that one moment of misjudgment, everything changed for the worst.

Click-

Just as Young was about to indulge in his own pain alone, the door suddenly opened and someone with urgent footsteps entered the office. It was that aide who had just left to go home.

"I apologize for disturbing your rest, President. There's an urgent matter."

"Hopefully, it's important enough to interrupt my thoughts. I was just internally praising you for being a keen and excellent aide."

"I believe it's sufficiently important. Theres an urgent message from the Administrative Data Exploration Department, it seems they've managed to awaken that person's' consciousness."

Crash!

An expensive wooden ornamental chair fell over and broke at the corner, but Young didn't notice such details. Every day, he'd pester those nerds, and they kept parroting that it couldn't be guaranteed, couldn't be guaranteed and now, they'd succeeded so quickly!

"We must go at once. Is the vehicle ready?"

"Right now? I would advise against that."

"Why? Is there a problem with the patient's stability?"

"The BDSM faction members arrived first. As you know, since that day, they have become quite aggressive."

Young smirked bitterly at his aide's concern. Indeed, those folks had lost their minds. They'd steal tanks under repair to ram into the Inspection Department's quarters, or sneak into my study and threaten me with a knife to my throat.

"It's good timing then. If their entry records have been checked, all department heads must have shown up, right? Has Ralph come out too?"

"Yes. The attack back then was an incident that touched the pride of the entire Inspection Department."

"Then lets take him along. He has a connection with Professor Park, so they won't dare attack rashly."

"Ezel Raiden would be sorely missed now."

"Yes. No one was as suited to handle the BDSM faction as he was."

Before leaving his office, Young took in the view of the city reflected in the large window behind his desk.

Snowflakes drifted over the dark city, and small lights sparkled around the dark outskirts. They were the lights of campfires lit by refugees braving the cold.

"Let's go."

Enough reflection. It was time to return to being a cold, calculating ruler.

****

[p-*&*#(@ Connection confirmed. Welcome, professor'.]

"What the fuck. Is this a bug?"

Had he been gaming too long? His head felt like he had just woken up after sleeping for 40 hours.

Strange. He clearly remembered waiting with his party in front of the elf village, logging out, and then a white light rushing toward him

Why was he still inside the connection system?

It was a scene he remembered from the very first time he used the connector. No community, no messages, no notifications, just the [GG] game icon alone in the empty space right after connecting.

He waited to see if it was loading, tried searching around, even attempted to logout, but nothing worked.

"Is it really a bug? If there's a glitch like this with no admins around could I be stuck here forever?"

Suddenly, the urban legend about someone dying from dehydration inside a broken connector' that floated around the community came to mind. Damn it, if I had known, I would have hired a technician to service the connector when I had the money! To end up like this from being lazy with Dome so close!

Let me out! Somebody! Somebody pull me out!

Ding-!

"Whoa!"

Startled, he yelped in the empty space where he had been cursing into the void, shocked by the sudden notification sound.

[Player connection confirmed. Welcome, DOOMgay'.]

DOOMgay? Ian? But I'm logged in, why is there a new player?'

Before I could ponder the strangeness, a swirl of light appeared before me, quickly taking the form of a person.

It was definitely him. A robust figure with a metal jaw. He looked even more unkempt than the last time I saw him, with a beard that seemed as if he had smeared it with hair growth formula, and his eyes looked as if he hadnt slept in days.

Regardless of the odd circumstances, it was a relief to see a familiar face.

"Hey! Long time no see! Anything new outside? I was just about to log out, but the connectors freaking out."

Crack.

Huh?'

The atmosphere felt off. I couldnt explain it, but it felt like I had done something terribly wrong without actually doing anything. Above all, the sight of Ian, looking even more gaunt than before, fists clenched and teeth gritted, was quite frightening.

As I sensed something was amiss and stepped back, Ian started approaching with a stern face.

"It's been a while. Yeah, right. It's been a while' indeed."

His eyes were hollow, his steps staggered, and he seemed thinner than usual in his bizarre behavior.

"You son of a"

In an instant, I could clearly infer Ians state.

"Youre drunk! You messed with the connector while drunk! I told you this isn't a multiplayer game, no matter how much you jam the terminals together, it wont work-"

"Shut your mouth."

Whoooosh!

Crash!

Ians fist flew towards me. Before I could even react, I narrowly dodged a punch as big as a pot lid aimed at my jaw, only for a heavy military boot to kick my chest.

This was no friendly punch or kick. The brush against my jaw was so forceful it drew blood, and the kicked chest throbbed as if my ribs had shattered.

This guy was seriously out to get me.

"*Cough*, ughhh Is this because you're on drugs, not just drunk?"

"I did overindulge a bit in both booze and pills. I had you wrong, Professor Park. I thought you had some sense, but your head's filled with rotten thoughts. Charging headlong into that situation? You knew it was a death sentence!"

"Ptoo! Suddenly breaking the connector and barging in, spouting nonsense. Want to settle the pecking order once and for all, fucker?"

"You you need to be taught a lesson. As an elder, I'll correct your damn foolish thinking, Professor Park."

Click, click, huuuuh.

Ian pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it.

As if the situation wasnt confusing enough, now here was my friend cussing me out and kicking my guts, and I was starting to get heated too.

"Yeah, you damn demolition maniac. Come on! Do you know how much I've held back because youre big brother' and a friend'? Lets settle this openly now!"

At that moment, a very strange sensation flickered through my mind.

A feeling like I had forgotten something very important. I had adapted too naturally to this bizarre and contradictory situation. Shouldn't addressing a more pressing question be the order of things?

But as unnaturally quick as it came, the thought was extinguished. Like someone had snuffed out a small flame with sand.

Vrooom!

"Ill show you why Im the leader!"

With a spirited yell, the fist of Big Dream Small Margin Caravans leader flew towards the large man.

****

"Heugh, heugh, *cough*! Heugh, hey, hey!"

"*Cough*, *hack*, ptoo! What the hell, man."

"Heugh, getting the first hit took too much out of me physically. You know? You bastard, if this was by international rules it would be a foul."

"Huff, huff, still only your mouth is alive."

"Call Vex. We're doing a second and third place match"

"Damn it. I can't even beat him."

"Heugh, heugh, damn it"

I lost. Damn it.

And I got thrashed thoroughly, beaten to a pulp. Well, it's my own stupidity for rushing in unarmed against someone almost two weight classes above me. If I had a gun, I might have won.

"Have you calmed down a bit?"

"Yeah."

"My goodness. I knew you were crazy but"

Honestly, there was a moment in the middle when I could have flipped him. Since I was getting pummeled anyway, I thought I might as well try for a submission from the ground

Drip drip.

**Sniffle**, **sob**, damn it, how dare you try to go it alone like that

? ????????

Suddenly, the guy who was pounding someone in the mount position started bawling. This was the same guy who didn't shed a single tear even when talking about his tragically deceased wife, now sobbing uncontrollably, and I thought I must have inadvertently kicked him in the groin or something.

What could I do against such an emotional cheat code? After that fall, I thought the pain of being assaulted with no questions asked was akin to the hurt pride I felt being beaten by a friend who had suddenly exploded in emotions. Only after he had gathered himself could we finally talk.

It seemed like he had gotten everything he wanted off his chest, as he began to explain things to me in a much calmer and composed state. What he said for nearly ten minutes, which he seemed to have prepared in advance, was profoundly shocking.

So you're telling me the me sitting here thinking right now was backed up in GG four months ago? Im not a person? Im data?

Its not like that! Listen, you logged out of the game four months ago, and to fulfill a request from the President, you went to District 30 and got involved in all sorts of battles, ending up almost dead. Or rather, you did die! You had transformed nearly 90 percent into a Type 3 mutant, and medically, there was no doubt you were dead!

"Why did I die?"

Tick, tick, zing-

At my question, Ian pulled up an image file to show me.

It's because of this. Orpheus, or the box' as it's called, a relic of an old war weapon modified to forcibly mutate any living person within its range. Originally, you went there to retrieve it but seeing its overwhelming power, you went berserk and destroyed it, killing yourself in the process.

Ian had to struggle to control his emotions again as he remembered that moment.

Everyone was busy with their assigned enemies, so it was only after things settled down that we found you. The state the District 38 administrative staff retrieved you in wait a moment.

Ian turned away, unable to continue. I found this conversation bizarre. Repeated mentions of my death and retrieval were stories I had no memory of, and I couldn't believe them.

I thought you were completely dead, but then we heard someone struggling nearby, and that left hand of yours started scraping the ground. Even in that state, you were asking for help. We immediately put you in the car and drove straight back to District 47. The District 38 admin folks said their medical facilities couldn't handle a patient in such critical condition. Thinking back, those guys were so suspicious, but damn, I was too messed up to notice anything else.

"Why did they do that?"

"*Sigh*. They connected the half-destroyed box' to the radio tower, the most powerful wide-area relay of this era. The core of the box you crushed with your hands survived, stubbornly alive, like a mutant. Although its output couldnt match even half of what it originally could the radio towers overwhelming relay capabilities made up for it."

Click, click,

Ian discarded the remaining filter and placed a new cigarette in his mouth. He waved his hand a few times and then opened an audio file for me.

Crackle- click-

=======

Dear survivors, I am truly pleased to meet you.

I am called Karel Belmont,' the Administrative Chief of District 38 Dome.

Living through hard times.

=======

".Huh? Wait a minute. You were just saying that this Karel person was."

"Yes. I knew him as nothing more than an incompetent spokesperson for the administration. He said so himself, and that's how he seemed."

Creak!

A chilling sound of teeth grinding emanated from Ian's mouth.

=======

.And thus, we have finally gained another opportunity to leap forward.

According to research, small groups and individual survivors who tend to be less violent are mostly living in safe shelters protected by shields. It's only the scavengers in the wasteland, the psycho mobs, or the numerous tanks that the murderous Raptors, lacking enough power, lead a life without shields.

The machine in front of me now is a war weapon made with the finest technology of our era, capable of killing people and mutating them through very powerful waves.

Rest assured, whether it is fortunate or unfortunate, a small accident during transportation has significantly reduced the output, so just a personal residence shield is enough to escape the influence of this box.'

I am about to press this button. Perhaps, since the destruction began, the largest number of people might die.

Please, do not see this as a massacre, a terrible act. The scavengers and nomads of the wasteland, they are monsters who kill people to take their flesh and extract their oil. Turning them into mutants is merely the process of turning cunning monsters into stupid ones.

Of course, some may criticize me, but I have no doubt that this is one step back for two steps forward. If my choice today becomes a sin, I will humbly accept it like Oppenheimer, who created the atomic bomb.

For a better world, I wish you peace.

========

Click.

The voice file turned off, and silence lingered between Ian and me.

".From the beginning, he was aiming for this. Waiting for everyone to become feeble. Of course, those crazies, having the weapon in their possession, would have had a countermeasure. They kept it hidden, and then, when the box was activated and everyone turned into idiots, voila! They appeared and snatched it."

All sorts of doubts swirled in my mind, but I understood the situation. There had been a fierce fight over the war weapon. Everyone suffered losses, and a completely unexpected person had taken it and used it in the worst way possible.

"If it's a wide-area relay. How far does it.?"

".From 27 to 41. As far as those bastards boasted about their surveillance range. Except for the survivors living in residences with shields, everyone within that range has turned into mutants."

"All those people have turned into mutants? So outside right now.!"

"Stop! .Let's leave the headache-inducing stories at that. We wouldn't have enough time if we went on to the aftermath, the Raptors attacking District 38, and our allies counter attacking them, and all such stories. What's important now is your condition, not such external matters."

With a gesture that seemed to tell me to figure out the rest on my own, Ian waved his hand, took a breath, and continued with a serious expression.

"Let's continue where we left off. Right now, you're almost in a vegetative state. Hyde is desperately clinging to a consciousness that should have already died, and it wouldn't be strange if you died at any moment. The researchers in District 47, after deliberating on your condition, came to one conclusion. I'm not sure if you know, but there's something called"

"Data Soul."

"Uh yes, something like that. It's been said that if you, who are in a coma, are connected to the game, the saved memory and your consciousness could merge, which might somewhat restore you."

"That's me?"

"Exactly. It's like connecting the brain of a vegetative person to memories that were illegally backed up in advance. Anyway, you're still Professor Park. Just in a somewhat unstable state."

It's an oddly subtle feeling. Something is awkward. Metal Jaw isn't usually someone who speaks so coherently. Hmm Something Something

"So, how can we resolve this unstable state?"

"They're still researching that, but most suggest that clearing it might work. As you know oh, you probably don't. Dr. Li Xue, the culprit behind this crisis, was GG's lead researcher, especially in human memory. Her research greatly advanced GG-related studies. This Data Soul is what makes up NPCs, and when the world is cleared, the system collects all the data, wipes the character data, and starts organizing the data to use for NPCs in the next world. And the characters who clear the world get"

"Character history continuation into the next world. The latest version of the collected Data Souls is transferred to the next world by uploading the current state of the connected player"

"In that process, we can perfectly install the Data Soul that has merged with your consciousness into your cold brain. That's what the men in white coats were spitting out as they explained."

It makes sense. I'm not an expert, but I've heard that vegetative states, unlike brain death, can respond to stimuli like familiar music or scents. Completely overlaying someone's memories onto the brain to stimulate consciousness could indeed awaken it.

If people much more educated than me say so, it must be so.

"Then, that you were connected inside, Ian"

"You're not exactly a player right now. You're a half-player connected to a Data Soul stored in GG."

"Or a half-NPC, if you will."

"Could be. I don't know anymore, it's too much headache. Damn it. Such a high-maintenance leader."

With that, Ian seemed to have finished saying what he wanted to say, and got up from his slumped position to bid me farewell.

"They say it's not good for another player to stay too long with an unstable consciousness, so I'm leaving. I'll connect you to the community, but you won't be able to use things like chat rooms since you're not a player. Try to keep up with the outside news. Play the game hard and get out soon. I'll visit you often."

With those final words, Ian hurried out.

I stared intently at his retreating figure and sighed deeply.

".Idiot. He really can't lie."

He's flustered, just like a kid who's been caught stealing candy from a stationery store.

From his mannerisms to his tone of voice, everything checked out; that was definitely Ian. It's unlikely there are two of such a person. The fact that I'm a common brain seems to be correct too. He didn't react much when talking about outside matters.

".Surely there must be a way to recover? Not forever just a common brain."

Recalling how Ian's gaze became terribly unstable when talking about clearing, Professor felt anxious.

****