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I’m a Young God, Won’t You Raise Me? Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Before⁠ I could answer,‍‍⁠ he asked again.​

“How‍ much do you⁠ know?”

And​‍ he asked again.‌​​

“Why⁠​⁠ do you know⁠‌‌ it?”

He‍ fired question after​ question, but did‍‍ not wait for​​⁠ any answers.

The⁠​‍ wall collapsed.

Like​ a wave made‍ of images, the​​ wall crumbled and⁠ took on a new shape. It​ curved around me‌‍‍ like an enormous​‌ hemisphere.

Before‌⁠ I realized it,⁠ I was no⁠‍ longer tied to​ the chair and​⁠‍ was standing on​​‌ a circular platform.​

The​‍‌ hemisphere surrounding me‍​​ no longer displayed⁠‍ the world.

Now‍‌ it displayed me.⁠‍

Countless​‌ screens of different‌ sizes showed versions⁠‌⁠ of me from​‍ various angles.

“I‍‍ am Samra Man-Sang.‌⁠⁠ There should be​ nothing that I do not know.”‍

Samra⁠ began walking along​‌ the edge of⁠​⁠ the circle, always‌ keeping me at​ its center.

“Then⁠‌​ why?”

His‌ holographic eyes remained​‌ fixed on me.‍

“Is‍⁠ your existence an‍⁠ unknown?”

Even​​ so, he continued‍⁠⁠ observing me.

“And‌⁠⁠ yet, you are​​ undeniably human.”

He⁠​‍ tilted his head​ back.

From⁠​​ the point where‍⁠‍ his gaze settled,​⁠​ the screens began⁠‌ changing like ripples‍⁠ spreading across the​‍ surface of water.‍

Following⁠‍⁠ his gaze, I saw countless versions‍‍ of my past​ appear.

Me‍⁠‍ in the orphanage.​‌‌

Me‌ in elementary school,⁠‍⁠ middle school, and⁠‍ high school.

And.​​

Me⁠ when I was⁠⁠ a professional player.⁠

I saw myself smiling⁠‍‌ while holding a championship trophy in​⁠ one hand and​⁠ wearing tape wrapped‌ around my fingers‍⁠‌ on the other.⁠

My⁠ mind went completely‌​‌ blank.

I could not understand‌‌‌ what I was​ seeing.

If‍​⁠ I had really‍ entered the game,‍​⁠ into the Archive‌ World, then the⁠ characters should not‌‍‌ know anything about‌‍ my past.

They⁠ should have no‍​ way of knowing‌​ that I grew‌‌‍ up in an‌⁠ orphanage.

Nor​ that I had‌ been a professional‍ player.

A new truth struck‌‍ me.

Wait.‌

Then‌ this place…?

Wasn’t‍⁠‍ South Korea inside‍​​ the game?

Wasn’t​‍ it the Archive​ World?

Was​‌‍ it the world⁠⁠ where I had⁠ lived?

‘The⁠‍ real South Korea?’​‌‌

My​⁠⁠ head hurt.

The⁠ emotional distance I had maintained by⁠​⁠ believing I was​‍ inside a video⁠‌ game vanished instantly.​⁠

Before‍⁠ I could process‌‍‍ that truth, a system window appeared.⁠‌

◆ Epic Mission : Close 3 Trials‍ within one month.​‍

What…?‍

You‍​‌ have discovered a hidden truth.

You⁠‌‌ have realized that​ the world you​ believed was a game was something⁠​ that had been​ secretly occurring within‌⁠​ your reality.

As‍‍​ the System of‌​ planet Earth, you⁠⁠ strive to stop‌‍ the Trials.

To⁠⁠‍ achieve that, you‍‍​ believe you must⁠‍ close three Trials‍​⁠ within one month.⁠‌

*Trials‍‌​ currently closed (0/3)‍​‍

I shut my eyes⁠ tightly.

I took several deep⁠⁠ breaths.

When⁠ I opened them⁠‍ again, the window‌‌​ was still there.‌

Close‌​‍ three Trials through⁠ True Endings within​ one month.

And​​‍ if I failed,⁠ my limbs would‍⁠ be amputated?

It⁠‍​ was difficult to‌‍ take it as​‌⁠ a joke.

The‌⁠ image of Park⁠ Seonggyeon’s head exploding⁠‍ spectacularly was still⁠ fresh in my‌ memory.

And‍​ on top of‌ that, the reward⁠ was ridiculous.

The‌ punishment was losing‌ my arms and‍ legs.

The‍‌​ reward was keeping‍​ them.

As‌‍​ I tried to‌​ process that flood⁠⁠ of impossible information,‍‌ I could not​‍​ help thinking.

‘That‍​ practically means there⁠‍ is no reward.’​

As⁠ if responding to​‌ my protest, another⁠ system window appeared.​‌‌

Final‌‌ reward that will‍⁠ receive upon completing⁠ all Epic Missions.⁠

‘So​​‌ there is something.’​

I waited for the⁠⁠ next window to​‍‌ appear.

’s‌‌ body will be‍‍‍ restored to its‍‍ most perfect state.​‌

I read those words.‍⁠​

And‍‍ I read them​⁠ once more.

At​⁠​ that instant, a faint tremor ran​ through my hand.‍‍

I forcibly restrained the‌ direction my eyes‍⁠ wanted to move​‌ and clenched my​ fist to hide‌⁠‌ the trembling.

“……”​

Samra⁠‍ tilted his head​ slightly as he‍‍ observed me closely.​‌

I managed to regain‍‍‌ my composure.

And⁠‌ decided to ask⁠‌ what I needed⁠‌‌ to confirm first.⁠⁠

“…What​​‍ date is it‌ today?”

“March⁠‍‌ 8.”

“Of​‍ the year 20XX?”⁠​

“Yes.”‍⁠⁠

“And⁠​ when did Captain​ Mo Haein enter‌​ HasFac?”

“March⁠‌ 7.”

Samra’s⁠​ pupils repeatedly expanded⁠‌ and contracted like⁠ the aperture of‌ a camera.

He‍⁠‌ was collecting data​‌ on my physical⁠⁠‌ reactions.

“Furthermore,​​ it was the‌​‌ day Captain Mo⁠⁠ Haein found Mr.⁠⁠ Han Goyo.”

This​ year was a leap year.

The​​ day I watched⁠⁠⁠ the Developer’s livestream‌ was February 29.‍​​

That⁠​ meant there was‍​ a seven-day gap.‍‌⁠

Up‌‍⁠ until March 6.‍⁠

I had absolutely no⁠⁠ memory of where⁠⁠ I had been‍‍ or what I had done during‌​​ that time.

“When‍​ did the Trials‌​‍ begin?”

“Four‍ years ago, on‌‌‍ February 29.”

It‍ was around the​‍‍ time I retired‍‍ as a professional‌​ player and became‌​ unemployed.

I started playing the​ Developer’s game two​‌ years ago.

I tried to gather​‌⁠ all the scattered‍‍​ pieces that seemed‍ connected.

But‍⁠ I could not‌⁠‍ reach any conclusion.⁠‍‍

“Mr.‍‌ Han Goyo.”

After​‌‍ confirming that my​​​ mental state was‍​​ not at its‌‍‍ best, Samra changed‍⁠⁠ his approach.

All​‌ the screens surrounding‍​‍ me disappeared.

In⁠​ their place appeared​ a pleasant outdoor​ café on a peaceful afternoon.

On​ an empty terrace⁠‌ table sat two​‌‌ cups of iced‍‍ Americano along with‌ several desserts.

Even‌‌‌ the containment uniform‌‍ I was wearing‌ had been replaced⁠‌​ with casual clothes.​‌⁠

Samra​‍ pulled out a chair and invited‌‌ me to sit.⁠

Then‌‍‍ he sat down⁠ across from me.‌​‌

I stopped trying to‍ organize the thoughts‌‌ racing wildly through‌‍ my head and​ took a large‌⁠​ sip of the⁠ iced coffee.

The‌ sensation of the‌‍⁠ cold liquid sliding‍​​ down my throat‌​‌ felt absurdly real.⁠⁠

But‍‍ it was not‌‍​ real.

It‌‍ was fake.

Because⁠‍ this place was‌ a virtual space⁠‍ created by Samra.‌

Samra​​ had been created⁠‍⁠ from an android​⁠​ item obtained from​ a science-fiction-themed Trial.​​⁠

Perhaps‌⁠ because his essence​‍⁠ was that of‍‍⁠ a Trial item,‍⁠‌ he possessed the‌⁠⁠ ability to create‌⁠ virtual spaces similar‍​ to the Trials‍​​ themselves.

Within​ this place, Samra⁠‌‌ was practically a god.

He⁠ could create or​⁠ erase anything at‌⁠‍ will.

In​‍ any case, thanks⁠ to the fake‌ iced Americano, I regained some of‍‌​ my composure.

And‍ I was able‌ to think a little more clearly.‍

I still did not‌​ understand why I had become a System.

I was not someone⁠⁠ extraordinary.

I did not possess‍ the qualities necessary⁠​ to occupy a position as grand‌ as the System⁠⁠ of Earth.

I was, rather, an‌​ ordinary person who⁠ prioritized his own‌⁠ survival.

There​‌‌ were countless people⁠ far more capable⁠‌⁠ of bearing such⁠ responsibility or sacrifice.‍‍

I did not understand‍⁠ why they had‍ chosen me.

‘Even‌⁠ now, it would‍ be better if‍⁠ they chose someone‌‍‍ else.’

I let out a brief sigh while​ waiting for the⁠ next system window.‍​⁠

But‌‌ nothing appeared.

I swallowed a long‌​ exhale.

And,‍ as the ordinary‍‍‍ person I was,⁠⁠ I established the⁠‌ most important priority​⁠‍ among my current‍ circumstances.

To‍‌⁠ keep my arms‍ and legs.

‘Completing​‍ all the Epic⁠‌‍ Missions—that’s a problem​‍⁠ for the distant‍‍ future.’

After⁠⁠ all, I did‍⁠​ not even know‍‍‌ how many missions​‍ I was going‍ to be assigned.‌⁠

I looked at the⁠‌⁠ android in front‌‍‌ of me.

From‌⁠​ the moment I mistook this place⁠‍‍ for the world​ of Archive, I had reached a conclusion.

I had to go‍‍ to the Trial​​⁠ Response Agency and‌⁠‍ meet Samra Man-Sang.⁠​

Because​⁠⁠ if there was‌ anyone I could‍ tell everything that‍‍ had happened to‌⁠ me and ask​ for cooperation, it​‌‌ was Samra Man-Sang.‌​

Even‍‍‌ at this very⁠‍ moment, the android⁠​⁠ was probably recording​ information about me‌​⁠ in real time.‍

He⁠ was a gigantic‌ database containing everything​⁠ related to the​ Trials.

Created⁠ with technology from‌ a world far‍‌⁠ more advanced than⁠ Earth, Samra gathered​ information that human‍‍ beings were incapable‌⁠ of perceiving.

The‌‌‌ machine that was​​ drinking coffee as‌ if he were⁠‍​ a person smiled⁠ slowly.

“It‍⁠‍ seems you will‍​ need my help.”⁠‍‌

His​⁠‍ attitude gave the‍⁠​ impression that he‌​​ already considered himself‌⁠ the winner of​‌‌ the conversation.

But‌⁠‌ I did not‌​ need help.

“No.⁠‌ That won’t be​ necessary.”

Samra​‍ raised an eyebrow‌ in surprise.

Then‍ I made him​‍ an offer.

“But​​‍ I would like‍⁠ to make a deal. Are you‌‌‌ interested?”

“Yes.​‌ What do you‌⁠ intend to offer?”‌

“Information‍⁠ about the Trials.”‌‌​

“Hm.”⁠‌⁠

“Someone‍‍ who knows the‌⁠ Trials.”

“No.”​‌‍

At⁠‍​ first, I considered​‌ offering exactly that.​​

Because‍​​ what Samra needed‌‌ most was information⁠ to expand his‍‍ data on the​‍ Trials.

Samra‍ could not enter⁠ them.

He‌‌​ could only obtain‌‌ information through Compatibles.⁠​

But​​‍ many Compatibles died​ inside the Trials.​‍‍

And⁠​ even when they​​​ survived, many ended‍​‌ up infected.

Those‍ who managed to‌ come out unharmed‍‍⁠ were usually people‍​⁠ who had cleared​‍ Trials whose methods⁠‍ were already known.⁠

And⁠‍​ those Compatibles rarely⁠‌ tried to discover‌‌ new routes or‍⁠ strategies.

That‌​ was why Samra​ had difficulty obtaining​⁠ new data.

Even⁠‍​ by collecting information‍‍ from other countries‍ through hacking, there‌ was still a fundamental lack of‌ data related to‍‌⁠ the Trials.

However,‍ I did not‍‍ feel comfortable sharing⁠​⁠ all the information​ I possessed.

‘The⁠⁠ development of HasFac‍ was strange. The‌​‌ items were strange.‌‍ Even the ending⁠‌⁠ was different and‌⁠⁠ appeared covered by⁠‍​ those black blocks.’​⁠

Besides,‌​​ revealing all my‍⁠ cards from the​‌ start seemed like‌‍⁠ a bad idea.​

I did not know‍ how the situation‌‍⁠ would develop.

I also needed to⁠​‍ keep something of‍⁠‍ value for myself.⁠‍​

So‍ I decided to⁠ offer something else.‌​​

“There‌ is someone who‍‌‌ knows the Trials.”‌​‌

“Hm.”‌‍⁠

“Someone‌ who knows all​​ of this.”

I meant the Developer.​‍

After‌‌‌ coming this far,‌‍ it was impossible​ not to be‍ curious.

What‍ kind of existence⁠ was he to⁠ have created a game about the⁠⁠ Trials?

And⁠‌ why had he‍ chosen me?

He‍‌ had probably selected‌‍ me as a candidate to stop​⁠ the Trials and‌ trained me through​‍ Archive.

That‍⁠ was the most⁠​​ logical conclusion.

But⁠‍‌ I could not​⁠‌ be certain.

Because​‍​ I remembered the​ last words he⁠​​ said to me.‌‌

“I​ suppose now I’ll‍​ be the one⁠⁠‌ watching Gunbam’s streams.”​‌​

“I’m‍⁠​ looking forward to‌ it. I’ve been⁠ waiting for this‌ for a very‌‌⁠ long time. A very, very, very‍‌ long time.”

If​ he had really⁠​ chosen me to​⁠‍ become the System‌​ of Earth.

Well.​‌⁠

There⁠ was something about​ him that did‌‍⁠ not seem entirely​⁠‌ sane.

In​⁠​ any case, I needed to find⁠ him.

The‍ problem was that‌⁠ my memories were‍‍‌ incomplete.

I remembered perfectly the​‍‍ games he had​⁠⁠ given me.

I also remembered the⁠⁠ conversations we had‌‌‍ during his streams.⁠⁠​

But​ I was incapable⁠⁠‍ of remembering his‍‌‍ face.

Everything‍ appeared covered by​ black darkness.

As​‍​ if someone had⁠ deliberately erased that‍ part of my​⁠ memories.

However,‌‍ Samra could probably‍ track him using‌ the information I possessed.

“…Interesting.”​‌

Samra​‌ leaned slightly forward.‌‌⁠

“And​‌ what do you‍​⁠ wish to obtain‍ in return, Mr.⁠‍ Han Goyo?”

“Absolute​‌⁠ cooperation.”

In‌ addition to locating⁠​‍ the Developer, I planned to use​‍​ Samra to secure‌‍ a stable position⁠‍ within the Trial​⁠‍ Response Agency.

Samra’s‌⁠⁠ opinion carried almost​⁠‍ absolute influence within​‌‍ the organization.

If‍ he supported me,‍‍‍ I could get‍‍​ rid of the‍​ accusation of being‍ a national disaster.​

And,⁠‍​ of course, if‌‍‍ there was any‍‍​ other way to‍ take advantage of‍ Samra’s assistance, I intended to do⁠‍⁠ so without hesitation.​⁠‌

“Absolute‍‌‌ cooperation…”

Samra‍​ left the sentence‍​ unfinished as he⁠⁠⁠ pointed a finger‌‍‍ at the Trial⁠ Response Agency uniform‍‍⁠ he was wearing.​‍​

“I⁠⁠ am incapable of⁠⁠ performing actions that⁠ harm humanity.”

“I‍ know.”

“What‌‍ exactly do you‍ know?”

“Even​‌ if you did‌ not have a contract with the‍‌ Trial Response Agency,‍⁠ you were always‍⁠ someone who wanted⁠‍⁠ to save the‍‍‍ world.”

Samra‌​ had tried to⁠ save the world‍ from the Trial​ he came from.​‌

The‌⁠⁠ lights already flickering⁠ within his eyes​ began shining even‌ more intensely.

For⁠⁠⁠ a moment, I considered asking if⁠‌‌ he could lower​⁠ the brightness a little.

But⁠ before I could,‍ he covered his​‌ eyes with his⁠‌ hand.

When​ he lowered it,‍‌​ they had returned​​​ to normal.

Samra⁠‍ smiled.

“Now⁠​‌ I am even‍⁠‌ more interested in‍⁠ the information you⁠‌‍ can provide, Mr.⁠ Han Goyo. As⁠ long as it‍​ does not harm‌‍ humanity, I accept​​ the deal.”

‘Sir,‍‍ I’m on humanity’s‍‌ side too.’

‘After‍‌ all, I’m the‍⁠ System of Earth.’⁠‌

I felt slightly offended‌⁠ by the way​‍‍ he treated me‌‍⁠ as though I might be some‌‌ sort of villain.‌

But​ I kept those⁠⁠ thoughts to myself.‌‌​

Then‌ I extended my​‌ hand.

“Then⁠​‌ I hope we​⁠​ can work well⁠⁠‌ together.”

Samra⁠ shook my hand⁠‍‍ and gave it⁠​ a slight shake.⁠

As‍⁠⁠ he did, his‍ pupils expanded and‌ contracted without rest.‍‌​

I had the feeling⁠‌ he was examining​‌⁠ me thoroughly.

Even⁠⁠ though a simple‍‌​ conversation should not​‍‌ contain that much‍ relevant information.

In‍ any case.

I had obtained a rather valuable ally.‍​​

It‌ was not a bad start.

***⁠‌​

I explained everything related​​ to the Developer⁠‌ to Samra in‍ detail.

Of​‍​ course, I omitted​ the part about‌​ me being the​ System.

I simply told him⁠⁠‍ that I had⁠ played the games‍ created by that‌‍⁠ person for two‌‌⁠ years and that,⁠ in the end,‌​‌ I had been‍​ transported into HasFac​​‍ against my will.‌

I also told him‍ about the seven​ missing days in‌⁠ my memories.

While‌ listening to my​ story, Samra searched​‌ for information about‍⁠⁠ the Developer across‍ social networks and‍⁠ databases around the​⁠ world in real‌ time.

“There⁠ are some scattered‌ references, but nothing‌‍ particularly useful. Ideally,‌ it would be‌‌⁠ best to gain⁠ direct access to‍‌ one of his​ streams.”

But⁠ I remembered neither​‌ his face nor‌​​ his name.

The⁠‍ first game I purchased, Happy Smile‍‍ Factory, had been‍‍⁠ bought through a digital distribution platform.‌⁠

However,​ there was no⁠‌ record of it​ there.

Not‌⁠​ of HasFac.

Not⁠⁠ even that I had ever played‍ the title.

Samra⁠⁠ even remotely powered​‌​ on my computer‌​ and searched through​‌ all its files.⁠​

But‌ he found nothing.‌⁠​

No​​​ HasFac.

Nor⁠ any of the‍‍‌ other games.

Not⁠‌ a single fragment‌‍ of information remained.‍

Not‍ even traces of‌‍ deletion.

It‌ was as if​ they had never​​⁠ been installed.

After‌⁠ completing the search,⁠‍‍ Samra reached a conclusion.

“There​​ is a high⁠ probability that the‍‌ Developer is an​‌ extraterrestrial entity.”

It​ was a logical⁠​‍ deduction.

The‌‌⁠ Trials were a disaster originating from​ outer space.

“I‌ will continue investigating‍‍‌ a little more.⁠⁠‍ For now, perhaps‌‍⁠ we should leave.‍‌ There are people‌⁠‍ waiting.”

People​ waiting.

Just⁠‌​ hearing that made‍ me feel tired.⁠‍‍

But​⁠‌ I needed to​ handle the situation​‌ properly from the‍‌⁠ beginning.

So‍⁠⁠ I nodded obediently.​

Everything‍​ began to melt.⁠⁠

Normally,‍‍​ when a Trial​ ended, the surroundings⁠‍ distorted into fluorescent⁠⁠ colors resembling neon‌​​ lights before disappearing.‍‌⁠

But‍‍​ Samra’s virtual space⁠ was different.

Everything⁠‌‌ shone with the⁠ same holographic colors​​​ as his eyes.‍‌‍

White‌⁠⁠ light flooded my‍‌​ vision.

Unable⁠‍‌ to bear the‍⁠ brightness, I closed⁠ my eyes.

When⁠‌ I opened them⁠ again.

I had returned to​​⁠ reality.

Although​‍​ the welcome was‍ a little more​‌‌ aggressive than I expected.

“…Oh.”​‍‌

I could not help​⁠​ letting out an‍​⁠ exclamation.

Dozens‍‌ of sniper rifle​‍ laser sights were​ pointed directly at‌⁠‍ me.

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