Ch.77Monster (3)

The snow had stopped.

The place where the falling snow had ceased was not quiet. The noise of metal and fabric echoed throughout the forest.

Amidst it all, someone moved before the most thunderous sound.

Rolling away to dodge, the snow accumulated on the ground scattered all at once.

In that spray of coldness, a fierce heat boiled. An overwhelming body temperature unlike that of humans.

When it touched the armor, the red-hot surface cooled momentarily. But before the moisture could seep into the body, it lunged forward.

And then, a ripping sound.

An arm extended to block was bent backward and severed. The warrior, gritting his teeth and staggering, desperately threw himself aside.

A long leg swept through the space where he was about to fall.

What followed was massive destruction, comparable to a slash wielded by a giant.

Trees caught in its path splintered and broke, and a hunter who had been perched above barely jumped down while firing an arrow.

The pure white arrow pierced through the snowy forest and sliced the monster’s skin.

Thud, thump.

It sounded like kicking a leather pouch filled with air. Not the sound made when human flesh is pierced.

This was a bow and arrow designed to take down a drake, one of the lesser dragons. An ordinary human would be skewered and killed instantly.

But.

KWAAAAAANG!

The monster, which had paused briefly, accelerated as if nothing had happened. Ignoring recoil and physical laws, it changed direction with minute adjustments of its body.

A leap that could only be described as explosive.

The archer saw the figure surging toward him before he could land on another tree, and transformed while thrusting his bow forward.

With a crunch, both the bow and arm were crushed simultaneously. The monster smiled at the sensation.

Then, with a wide swing of its arm, the captured shapeshifter spun 360 degrees in the air before being slammed into the ground.

A choked cry escaped. Another shapeshifter quickly snatched him away and moved to safety. Immediately, the monster’s foot crashed down where they had been.

The heavy weight and force sent snow flying upward. In the sudden snow fog, the hunters caught their breath, applied medicine, prepared their weapons, and glared into the mist.

Through the rising snow, two eyes gleamed clearly.

Gray eyeballs devoid of emotion. Eerie eyes with a faint reddish tint.

The hunter barely concealed his dismay as he extended his grip on the axe handle.

It was an axe with a blade shaped like a spearhead at the end of the handle. As he aimed the end like a spear tip, the hunters who had finished regrouping gathered around.

They were hunters.

Even after becoming like this, and ultimately changing masters as if they had no choice after defeat.

They had hunted monsters that humans could never hope to face.

Lesser dragons, renegade clans, failed containment experiments.

Mainly disposing of monsters created by the clans.

In the world that the consciousness once filling that monster’s body called Grim Darker, this was a common and not particularly difficult task.

It was a place overflowing with monsters.

Whether beings from outer space summoned by the Exploration Faction after misguided research, or experiments created by the three clans trying to recover their father.

The world was full of monsters. That’s why they usually weren’t fazed.

This was an exception. The hunter nervously handled his weapon.

He couldn’t help it. What the monster before them had done had carved a deep fear into them.

Its dangling arms were sticky with blood.

Its skin was mottled with pieces of stuck armor and blood, and arrows protruded from various places, making it look wretched.

Bones were exposed, muscle fibers visible. There were places where skin had been flayed and blood still flowed.

One leg still had a bear trap attached, and crossbow bolts that had repeatedly pierced its knee were falling to the ground one by one.

Throughout the forest lay corpses. Waists severed, heads burst open, bodies that had been swung while alive and smashed together with their comrades.

A monster that treated even the sturdy bodies of shapeshifters like toys. Cold sweat trickled down the hunter’s neck as he lunged forward.

All the surrounding shapeshifters joined him. They all transformed into forms mixing snow leopards and humans, shooting forward like beams of light.

Blending into the snow to conceal their presence, leaving no footprints but closing the distance with exceptional leaps to target their prey.

The neck, between the eyes, chest, heart, lungs, liver, spine, groin, and more.

They all rushed forward like arrows.

The hunter aiming for the neck is kicked away by a sudden spinning kick. But the dagger he had planted in the ankle gets caught on a tree, momentarily stopping the monster.

With one foot extended, the monster’s other ankle is sliced by a shapeshifter sliding past.

The ankle gives way with a hiss, but the monster exhales with what seems like pleasure and swings the leg with the severed ankle.

“Ugh…?!”

The kicked hunter flies into a tree, and as he coughs out a breath, the monster’s form flies knee-first into another shapeshifter’s abdomen, crushing it.

The shapeshifter spits blood as his waist bends. The noose swung to restrain the monster proves useless as it pulls the arm.

But the hunter being pulled was no pushover. Appearing to yield to the force pulling him, he suddenly drew a thick single-edged sword from behind his back and swung it.

Aiming for the neck. One cut would mean victory. But the sword doesn’t reach the neck.

Crunch!

Instead, it’s caught by jaws extending in reverse. Caught blade and all.

The lower jaw is torn off due to the force of his own momentum, but the monster smiles. Even with its tongue hanging loose, it raises the arm bound by the noose and strikes down.

Bisection. The shapeshifter with the folded waist dies spitting blood, and the monster regenerates while swinging the shapeshifter with the noose.

It was different from earlier, just before the armor was enveloped in strange light.

The hunters could feel it.

The movements had lost all excess.

Hesitation had disappeared, and every action was executed with extreme speed.

It wasn’t simply moving and acting quickly. The decision-making was extremely fast.

Something almost reflexive.

It could well be described as animalistic. The hunters looked at each other and nodded.

Then one of the hunters raised his bow high.

The arrow he nocked had something like a whistle attached to it.

PEEEEEEEEEE!

The shot arrow made a high-pitched whistle sound.

It was a signal to gather.

*

[PEEEEEEEEEE]

The sound echoed from my worn earphones. I blinked.

What had I been doing? As I moved my hand in my daze, memories gradually returned.

Right, I was playing a game.

The new DLC was good, more fun than expected.

And the unfolding of previously unknown story elements was nice too.

I was enjoying it with my favorite build.

Yes, that must have been it. I added a thought to myself.

Judging by how poorly I remembered, I must have been quite tired lately.

But it couldn’t be helped. After my sister disappeared, I had to get used to many things.

I looked at the screen for comfort.

Many things were happening inside the old monitor.

Many enemies, probably shapeshifter hunters, were surrounding my character.

A new type of event?

Strangely, it felt unfamiliar.

Usually players do raids, but being raided as a player was refreshing.

Moreover, I had just started leveling a new character and was only level 8 in the new continent.

Just this level and they’re coming after me like this?

Despite such thoughts, I moved the mouse without hesitation.

Right-click just ahead of an enemy, then an explosive leap when close enough.

The leap allowed me to catch and kill enemies faster than they could dodge with evasive maneuvers.

Then, seeing movement to retreat, I quickly opened the inventory, scanned the items, and made a decision.

This looks good. I covered an axe I had hastily picked up from the ground with blood essence and detonated it.

Since the armor was treated as part of the body, the explosion included the weapon.

Canceling the attack animation and triggering the explosion, two enemies were caught in it and knocked down.

To make matters better, the Mourner Homunculus had simple controls.

I played the game with familiarity.

There were many enemies, many traps, and their tactics were cowardly.

But they weren’t difficult opponents for the Homunculus Mourner with its regeneration and sturdy armor.

That’s what I thought until the enemies started swarming in greater numbers.

Whoa, this is too many.

I can’t die here.

The thought that suddenly occurred made me pause.

Why can’t I die?

Even if I die, I can just load a save.

Grim Darker didn’t have an ironman mode with save limitations or no free saves like other games typically do.

The only option was to voluntarily play with one save and delete it if you died. It could be implemented with mods, but why bother?

I believed that playing games under stress was a bad habit, so I thought I could just play however and reload if I died.

But why?

I felt something ominous.

It felt like I shouldn’t die. Even though dying would surely bring relief, something told me I shouldn’t.

Was I too immersed? I stared at the screen while thinking.

The character was diligently moving as I directed.

Killing enemies, avoiding being surrounded, and hunting them in reverse.

Corpses were piling up. The number of incoming enemies seemed endless, but thinking of them all as experience points made me feel good.

But it wasn’t entirely smooth.

Health repeatedly dropped to 1 before rising again. Since finishing moves weren’t critical hits, the undying race survived.

An inexplicable anxiety. An ominous sensation.

I continued moving the mouse and pressing the keyboard without knowing why.

The Mourner didn’t have many skills to begin with, so the controls weren’t difficult.

What remained was almost micro-control—positioning, precise distance calculation, and accurate judgment.

While doing my best, I thought:

This is going to be tough.

The enemies seemed determined to hunt my character.

All kinds of magic rained down, and various attacks and hit-and-run tactics decorated the screen.

There were so many diverse enemies that I knew I had to change my response each time or die.

It’s challenging. It’s demanding.

How did they code AI that analyzes the player’s build and brings appropriate countermeasures? Really amazing.

While thinking this, I felt tension creeping up my neck.

Something was off. It’s just a game.

Why am I playing so desperately?

A sense of dissonance came over me. A dissonance that would soon clear.

Suddenly, magic was fired at my character. A familiar spell.

A dark sphere. Since debuffs don’t affect the Mourner, they aimed to fill the space with darkness to obstruct vision.

I desperately tried to escape its trajectory, but couldn’t due to enemies clinging and entangling me, and eventually got hit by the dark sphere.

The screen went black. Only the antique UI remained at the bottom while everything else was dark.

So I could see my face reflected in the screen.

“…Huh?”

The face reflected in the screen wasn’t mine.

The hair was black, but the eyes weren’t mine. They were gray. The appearance matched the exotic eye color.

It resembled a classical handsome man. Like the handsome actors in classic films my sister once embraced me to watch together.

The handsome man in the screen was touching his face. Just like me.

Blinking exactly like me, inhaling like me, widening his eyes in surprise like me.

Well, because that was me.

“…Ah.”

The screen returned. My body in the screen was tattered.

My exhaled breath was red, and I was in tatters, probably because I couldn’t see and avoid the attacks unleashed in the darkness.

Health was repeatedly rising from 1 to 2 and then dropping again.

Blink, blink. My life was flickering as a symbol.

I stared blankly at the screen.

[Health: I——]

[Magic: ——-]

This world seemed to be telling me it was once a game.

It was also whispering that I too was part of that world, and that I might be fake.

A question arose.

What if all this is fake?

What if my brain is just seeing illusions, and scientists are giving electrical stimulation?

It was a common question. I remembered well because a friend of mine once asked something similar.

What did I say then?

I searched my memory while moving the mouse. My on-screen self swung his hand, and the hunter trying to bring an axe down on me fell backward with his belly torn.

Instead, an axe lodged in my shoulder.

Hunters surrounded me. They approached. Each fired arrows while holding weapons.

Without knowing how, I moved the mouse and pressed the keyboard to protect my neck. I had to protect my neck.

Even as I did so, someone seemed to be asking me:

How much is illusion, and how much is truth?

Is my sister’s departure also an illusion?

Or truth?

Is it really true that my sister exists in this world? Or am I just dreaming it?

What if I actually collapsed and died due to poor health, and I’m seeing illusions as I die?

Or, or.

Questions leading to more questions. I stared blankly at the screen.

Me in the screen.

Me outside the screen.

Which one is real?

Belatedly, I raised my head and saw what had formed in the corner of my vision.

[Name: Luwellin]

[Race: Homunculus]

[Class: Warrior – Mourner 8]

[Reputation: Public Enemy]

[Strength: 22(+6)][Dexterity: 20(+5)][Health: 22(+6)]

[Magic: □][Inspiration: □][Charm: □]

[Play Time: 9,472 hours]

Am I fake for seeing such a pathetic illusion?

Then is the real me still in reality?

Am I merely a character moved by a player, moving according to controls just as I am doing now?

It’s unknowable.

It’s impossible to know.

No matter how much I struggle or try, it’s not something I can know.

Knowing wouldn’t solve anything, nor would finding an answer bring relief.

Perhaps that’s why I unconsciously thought:

“So what.”

And reality collapsed.

In place of the collapsed reality, fantasy gradually filled in.

It was a snow-covered forest.

The fallen snow was cold, and the spilled blood was hot.

My breath was even hotter. A sensation like my jaw was melting.

As I tried to stand while regenerating, arrows flew in. I didn’t feel them pierce me.

[Recurring Mourning]

[Time Remaining: 981 seconds]

That was because mourning remained. So I staggered to my feet.

I was still alive because I had desperately protected my neck. But how long could I stay alive?

Would I die forever if I died?

Or would I return to Earth?

What is this place anyway? Why am I here?

At the rising questions, something spread across my lips without me realizing.

“Ha.”

Laughter came out.

Honestly, why should I care?

Of course I should care. It was an inquiry into my identity and existence.

But, on the other hand, I thought:

That’s not important.

The butterfly dream, they called it.

Zhuangzi dreamed he was a butterfly, but when he woke up, he was Zhuangzi.

He couldn’t tell whether he was Zhuangzi who dreamed of being a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming of being Zhuangzi.

That was truly the case. Normally, one should contemplate such things.

But I didn’t want to worry about that.

It didn’t match my approach to life.

Instead, with a deep breath, I kicked up a fallen axe from the ground and grasped it.

As I swung it, arrows caught in its trajectory were all deflected. One lodged in my forearm, but it was fine.

[Health: II——]

My body gradually regenerated. Breath filled my lungs, new flesh grew, and life returned to my dying body.

I swung the axe I gripped while looking at the rain of arrows filling my vision.

With the axe swung in a crescent, I deflected three arrows and desperately twisted my body to avoid others.

Ignoring the crushed corpse under my feet, I spread my legs wide and thrust the axe shortly to deflect two arrows aiming for my legs.

I slightly twisted my waist to avoid an arrow targeting my eyes, and caught and threw away an arrow aiming for my nape.

The arrow flew forcefully and broke. I looked at the hunters aiming bows and crossbows at me from a distance.

They had saved their strength, intending to finish me off. But I didn’t yield.

I never yielded.

Even when my sister disappeared, I lived on.

Even when I hurt my sister with my selfish words, when I wanted to die because I was nothing but a burden, I lived.

I’ve always been like that.

I’ve always lived.

I’ve always done my best in every moment.

If I am a butterfly, I simply do my best flitting from flower to flower.

If I am Zhuangzi, I would have devoted my body to the knowledge I needed to accumulate.

What’s fake, what’s real.

None of that mattered to me.

It was the same.

Whether I’m a monster dreaming of being a modern person, or a modern person who thinks they’re a monster.

Nothing changes.

Because I am me.

If I am true to myself, and if I always do my best.

Even if it’s an illusion, I won’t regret it.

“…Let’s do this.”

The moment I lowered my stance, the hunters fired their arrows.

I moved to avoid an arrow targeting my head, and then struck down a hunter aiming at my back with my axe.

In the spray of blood, I gritted my teeth and moved.

Thud, thump, clang!

I threw myself to avoid the arrows raining down on me, picked up a star blade knocked down by arrows hitting a tree, and swung it.

SWOOSH!

THUNK!

The swung longsword cut off an arm. A hunter extends his hand with a crossbow toward the blackened severed arm. I barely twist my head, and my earlobe is torn off.

But it wasn’t too late. My swinging axe bisects the hunter.

Leaving the hunter split in half and sprawled to either side, I steadied my stance.

Stepping over the bisected hunter, two hunters charged from left and right in front of a tree.

I parried their weapons with my axe before dropping it.

But I jumped up using the quivering axe stuck in the ground to avoid their attack.

The moment I landed, I swung the longsword to deflect attacks and charged along the most efficient path to pierce a head.

As the hunter collapsed along the withdrawn blade, I pointed my sword at the hunters beginning to surround me again.

I inhaled and exhaled. Heat rose from my body, turning the settled snow into steam.

In the rising steam, I twisted my lips and gripped the sword.