Chapter 15

Was it that he didn’t trust his own skills?

For someone like Do Yehyun, it was better to strike a deal. A guy who’d already been stabbed in the back after accepting goodwill—would he believe more goodwill? Sure, plenty of dumbasses would.

That’s why the straightforward approach worked best.

“To put it simply—I need a healer.”

“......”

“Your ability’s in healing, isn’t it?”

“...How did you know that?”

“Background check.”

“......”

Well, technically it was the status window. But since I used Seowon anyway, “background check” wasn’t wrong.

“I can’t lug potions around forever. I needed a healer to drag into dungeons with me, and you happened to show up.”

“......”

“You thought I saved you out of kindness? Nah. I kept you alive to milk your skills dry. So quit acting like this....”

See? Tell it straight and he calms down. Hands in my pockets, I stood over Yehyun, who sat stiff in front of me.

“Being cautious is good, but don’t go swinging at everyone. That guy—he looks like shit, but he’s ranked higher than you. You’d be the one fucked.”

“...Yes.”

“I went out of my way to save you, so make it worth it. If you die, I lose out.”

With that friendly bit of advice, Yehyun nodded like he’d been enlightened. That should be enough. I glanced over for Seowon’s approval—only to find his jaw hanging open.

“The fuck, did you just... psycho bastard.”

Even after I stopped Yehyun from picking a fight with him, he was still bitching.

Yehyun ducked his head toward Seowon.

“...I’m sorry.”

“N-no, hey, no need to apologize. I don’t think like that lunatic.”

Whatever. He’s alive—that should be enough.

Still, my stomach was empty. Aside from a light snack earlier, I hadn’t eaten. Now I was starving. I stared blankly at the two of them and asked,

“Wanna eat?”

***

Neither had an opinion, so I ordered a spread of Korean food from room service. Once I put something in my mouth, my brain finally started working again. Yeah, people need food to live. Being hungry tanked my mood and energy; now I felt human again.

“All this for three people? Fuck, look at the price tag. Christ....”

Three guys can’t finish five servings?

Seowon just picked at his plate, then suddenly threw out a question.

“...So what the hell are you, anyway?”

Now I was curious what kind of nonsense he’d spin. He dropped his spoon halfway through his rice and studied me. ...Was he really leaving half that food?

“You’re not eating that? Hand it over.”

“...Fucking pig.”

Didn’t look like it, but I guess he had no appetite. Yehyun, at least, was eating properly, cleaning his plate like a good kid. People looked better with a full stomach. I grabbed Seowon’s leftovers and dug in.

What should I even say to “what am I”?

‘Might be better to risk breaking plausibility a bit if it buys credibility.’

Warning.

Do not break pl■■sibility.

The status window lit up with a warning before I even finished the thought.

Still, dragging Seowon and Yehyun along without giving them anything to hold on to would be hard. They needed a reason—something that fit within plausibility. A motive they could accept.

After a moment’s thought, I said,

“I can see the future.”

“What?”

“......”

Both pairs of eyes locked on me. Sure, it sounded like bullshit, but in this world, it wasn’t that hard to accept.

I let the pause hang, then continued.

“Five years... no. Six years from now, the world ends.”

Granted, I’m the one ending it. Still counts.

Seowon froze, expression going rigid. Not bad—lie enough times and it becomes art. I admired my own creativity.

“You... you’re saying that in the middle of dinner?”

“When else would I? Want me to whisper it at bedtime?”

“No, wait. Ends? The world ends?”

“So we have to stop it.”

“Stop it?! Forget that—how does the world even end? That soon? Out of nowhere?”

That was actually a sharp point. It had been less than five years since hunters first appeared and gates opened, and people were already talking end of the world. Then again, people adapt fast.

“Not out of nowhere. There’ll be warning.”

“What warning? And how do we stop it? Can a person even stop it?”

A stabbing pain flared in my head.

Warning.

Do not break pl■■sibility.

Knew it. Ever since that spoiler I gave Ryu Taeyoung, the window had been quick on the trigger. I forced my voice calm.

“Stop the end? Of course it’s possible. Why else would I bring it up? Five years from now, a massive high-rank gate opens. Hunters worldwide will try to clear it. They’ll succeed, but at huge cost.”

“......”

“But that won’t be the last gate.”

The penalty was brutal. What had been a faint headache now drilled deep, but I pressed a hand to my temple and kept my face smooth.

“And... how the hell is it stopped?”

“There’s a hunter strong enough. I can’t say more.”

“Why not? You have to say more.”

If I said more, I might actually die. Instead, I clamped down on the pain and stared at Seowon. He studied me, then nodded slowly.

He thought I couldn’t say more because of some binding—like a covenant or contract. Fine by me.

“...So you really can’t say more.”

“Exactly.”

Not bad. I nodded and added,

“Don’t worry too much.”

“...You think I can not worry? Fuck.”

“Then worry. Doesn’t matter to me.”

Should I smack him? Before I could decide, he wisely changed the subject.

“...So why me and Yehyun? Why’d you bring us in?”

“Because I need you.”

Would they buy it? Well, even if not, I’d already set things in motion. They had no choice but to believe. I looked ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) between them and said,

“It’s just business. Keep quiet, and nobody loses. I won’t make unreasonable demands.”

“Fuck... no wonder it felt off.”

Seowon muttered to himself, clearly rattled. For someone who’d just heard “end of the world,” his reaction was calm. Probably because it felt unreal.

Yehyun, though, had been staring at me silently this whole time. When I glanced over, his gaze dropped to the floor. Something weighed on him.

I ignored it for now.

“So do as I say.”

That was the conclusion. Thanks to mixing lies with silence, the penalty eased off. Claiming to have a “future-seeing skill” must’ve helped. I left them confused and turned my thoughts to the novel’s plot.

Lim Sungyeon’s I Alone Am a Munchkin S-Rank Hunter.

‘Christ, even the title drains me.’

Anyway, here’s the gist of what that bastard wrote.

The protagonist, Kwon Taehan, was born cursed. No family, no friends.

Not my words—Taehan’s. Then, by chance, he was caught in a dungeon incident and awakened as S-rank. With protagonist buffs, he faced trials and grew stronger, gathering companions along the way. One of them? “Seo Jehyun.”

As time passed, gates appeared faster, their ranks higher. In an S-rank dungeon called Triceless, Taehan died by my hand and regressed five years. When he came back, despite my betrayal, he sought me out again. He had a big thing for comradeship.

That second run also ended at my hands.

Then the hidden keyword of the story revealed itself: Taehan didn’t regress once, but infinitely. Life after life, he hated me, predicted me, tried to stop dungeon breaks early, gave up, or exposed the truth.

The ending never changed. I killed him.

The novel didn’t describe all 999 lives, but it did capture Taehan’s despair. Supposedly to make me feel guilty. I didn’t. I just wanted to beat the shit out of Lim Sungyeon.

Anyway, by skipping and compressing cycles, the story eventually reached Taehan’s 1,000th life. There, for the first time, he saw a future he hadn’t lived.

That future came not through another gate, but through an “event”—the long-teased Title mechanic.

When all seemed finished, the Earth itself turned into a dungeon. Creatures poured through from other worlds, and for the first time humanity as a whole saw their status windows.

Until then, only Taehan could read them. Now, everyone had one. Only he could read others’, but still.

People hunted monsters—and each other—for Titles, massacres on a scale never seen.

Taehan’s Title?

[ Title: Eternal Regressor ]

Through bloodshed and loss, he pushed toward the end.

And there he saw the true mastermind: Seo Jehyun. The “me” he thought he’d killed and thrown into a gate was alive, working with a god to destroy Earth.

I killed him 999 times, and the last boss was still me. Not some demon’s doll—me, back again and again. Ridiculous. I even clapped when I read it. Meanwhile, the comments section was freaking out about how chilling it was.

After that came the predictable crap. Overwrought “shocking” direction. Recycled twist: the hidden villain. And, of course, Taehan killed me again in the final ending—while crying. Lunatic.

Even funnier? The commenters were crying too. Said it was moving that he killed me.

Then Taehan used his Title to regress all humanity. Back to a peaceful past, no gates, no awakened. He alone remembered, staring at an empty status window. The end.

Reading that, I realized something: Lim Sungyeon just wanted me dead. Imagine repaying kindness like that.

Anyway, the important part was this: right now it was before Taehan’s fifth life had even begun. And I still had to face the god mentioned in the original.

But I wasn’t waiting through 999 lives.

My goal was simple. See the ending in this life.