“creating a common enemy?”

    choi ji-won’s delicate face instantly turned blank, radiating a chilling aura. given my ptsd from the tutorial, i couldn’t help but freeze when she made that expression.

    “jun-ho... is this really what you want to do?”

    her icy voice bore down on me, exuding pressure.

    “yeah.”

    “are you insane?”

    “no, it’s just that...”

    we’d already fought once over a similar topic.

    ji-won couldn’t understand why i stubbornly avoided stepping into the spotlight. she thought i was overreacting, assuming my regression would be exposed just by gaining fame.

    ‘i don’t like it when your actions are credited as my achievements...’

    ‘can’t we just become famous together?’

    ‘fine. if that’s really how you feel...’

    in the end, she respected my wishes, taking the lead while i supported her from behind. but stepping into the role of a villain was an entirely different matter.

    “what are you, some tragic protagonist? why are you, of all people, volunteering to play the villain when you’re usually so careful about your mental health? do you enjoy getting hated? should i start hating on you now?”

    ji-won instinctively raised her hand to slap my back but barely managed to stop herself. if she had hit me, i’d probably have regressed straight away.

    “calm down, ji-won. what you’re worried about won’t happen. i get it. i know what you’re afraid of.”

    of course, i understood ji-won’s concerns. she didn’t want my name, kim jun-ho, associated with anything negative.

    “there’s no way someone named kim jun-ho will get blamed in korea. and later, we’ll make sure to crush that bastard zhang lei. how about hearing me out first?”

    “...fine.”

    “here’s the plan—it’s simple.”

    after my regression, a mysterious overpowered psychopath killer would emerge. someone so terrifying that even the dwarves and players would be paralyzed with fear.

    “...are you planning to kill people?”

    “of course not.”

    naturally, i had no intention of killing anyone. but i did want the players to carry the fear of “i could die” in their minds.

    when i finished explaining my plan, ji-won reluctantly nodded.

    “that’s why your role is critical, ji-won.”

    “...i think it could actually work.”

    the success of this plan hinged entirely on how convincingly ji-won could play her part.

    “...fine. let’s do it.”

    “great.”

    with her agreement secured, all the preparations were complete. all that remained was execution—and trial and error.

    “alright, time to regress...”

    “wait. before you regress, there’s something we need to do.”

    “...what is it?”

    “are you going to explain all this to me again after you regress and convince me again? come here.”

    ji-won’s memories only carried over to timelines where both of us experienced intense emotions. in ordinary, uneventful timelines, her memories didn’t persist.

    and then, as now, one of the strongest emotions was...

    “do you love me?”

    “of course i do.”

    **

    after repeating regression dozens of times and attempting as many experiments, i finally figured out the most effective way to terrify both the dwarves and the players.

    “ji-won, what do you think of this skull? doesn’t it give off a goblin shaman vibe?”

    “it’s pretty good.”

    with this...

    it would definitely work.

    you have been injured. you are regressing to the moment you first entered the 11th floor.

    ***

    “haa...”

    “what now?”

    “i need a woman...”

    “you’re unbelievable. you’re stuck here, and that’s the first thing on your mind?”

    “...but dwarf women have beards.”

    “you’re out of your mind.”

    regardless of his companion’s scolding, julien, a french player, desperately craved a woman’s presence.

    “why did i even enter the 11th floor? am i an idiot?”

    his reasons for climbing the tower were neither noble nor grandiose. for julien, the title of “successful player” made it significantly easier to attract women.

    “...be careful.”

    it was as if even recalling the scene sent shivers down her spine.

    ***

    choi ji-won entered the 11th floor.

    and she barely survived, gravely injured by a deranged player.

    these two shocking rumors spread rapidly among the players. being trapped on the 11th floor with nothing better to do certainly helped fuel the gossip.

    reactions to the rumors were split into two main camps.

    “...shouldn’t we prepare for this too?”

    “choi ji-won got hurt?”

    the first group felt a sense of urgency and sought to prepare in their own ways. players like julien from france and felix from germany fell into this category.

    but as with anything, success breeds envy and jealousy.

    “maybe choi ji-won’s just weak.”

    “bet she got smacked around by a bear and made up some story out of embarrassment.”

    the second group seized the opportunity to tear choi ji-won down as much as they could.

    sure, jealousy is ugly, but their argument wasn’t entirely baseless.

    “if there was such a player, we’d have known about it by now. and the timing? a killer just happens to show up the moment choi ji-won enters?”

    “yeah, right. at least make it sound believable.”

    the timing was indeed suspicious. it was easier to believe that “choi ji-won is lying” than that “a killer coincidentally entered the floor at the same time she did.

    “hey, why can’t you trust people?”

    “do you trust everything you see online?”

    players fiercely debated whether choi ji-won was telling the truth.

    “i’ll go check it out myself. where was she attacked?”

    the argument seemed to come to an end when a burly man declared he’d personally investigate the site of ji-won’s injury.

    the man, a wrestler from russia, was known for lacking technical skill but compensated with raw strength. his status window was maxed out in power, making him a force of destruction.

    “when’s he coming back?”

    “it’s taking a while...”

    “oh, there he is.”

    the players, expecting him to return with a triumphant grin, instead froze in shock.

    what they saw was the burly man, his entire body drenched in blood.

    “hey, idiot, weren’t you so confident?”

    “i knew this would happen to that idiot.”

    at first, the players mocked him. but something was clearly wrong.

    “...it was wearing a skull. a skull!”

    the wrestler, who had been so sure of himself, looked pale as a sheet.

    “it... it toyed with me completely...”

    “what are you talking about?”

    “none of my attacks landed. every move missed by a hair’s breadth. it’s like... it knew exactly how i was going to fight...”

    despite healing his wounds with potions, the man scratched obsessively at the areas where he’d been hurt.

    “and... it didn’t even try to kill me. i was nothing but a plaything...”

    “...”

    “it didn’t inflict any fatal wounds... just shallow cuts, barely scraping the surface... as if carving into my skin. it was horrifying...”

    no martial art in the world is designed to only inflict shallow wounds. combat techniques exist to subdue an opponent.

    the fact that his injuries were so superficial could only mean one thing:

    the gap in skill was immense, and the opponent had been toying with him.

    “i’m scared... i’m terrified...”

    “...”

    the sight of the large, burly man trembling and clenching his teeth was enough to silence the players who had mocked him earlier.

    when similar incidents happened to others who confidently set out after him, a growing sense of dread began to spread among the players.

    “are we all going to die here?”

    for the first time, they felt the chilling possibility of total annihilation.

    – – – end of chapter – – -

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