Surviving without God

— H-h-h... h-h-h!

Barely holding back the breath tearing from his chest, Ryan pushed through the warehouse, now reduced to a mangled ruin.

“Ryan, the moment the bomb goes off, move immediately and rescue the people in the basement.”

Gunther’s instruction echoed in his head. Ryan shook his head irritably.

— You’re a damn lunatic.

He was genuinely worried. Gunther was strong—Ryan had seen with his own eyes how he’d taken down a paladin with a single strike just days ago. But as far as Ryan could tell, that had been some kind of “trump card.”

“Right after that fight, he blacked out for a solid thirty minutes.”

There was no guarantee he could go all out again.

“Just try dying. I’ll piss all over your grave.”

Ryan quickened his pace and soon reached the stairs leading to the basement. But that’s where the trouble started. Several rank-and-file fighters were lingering nearby.

— Hey, what the hell is going on?

— They say the boss is dead?

— What? From the explosion?

— How the hell should I know, damn it! Heard everyone who went up to the second floor is a corpse.

Under normal circumstances, Ryan would have forced his way through without issue. But now his strength and mana were completely drained. On top of that, the ribs he’d taken hits to earlier seemed broken—every breath stabbed with sharp pain, as if bone scraped against flesh.

“Damn, messing with that big bastard must’ve made it worse.”

No matter how tough he was, charging a group in this state was suicide. Ryan shifted impatiently—and then—

Whiiiiing— Clank—

A heavy metallic sound echoed through the smoke. Immediately after, a shrill alarm wailed.

Beeee— Beeee—

Ryan froze, confused. But the bandits’ voices quickly clarified things.

— ...Sound came from the boss’s room? — What? Don’t tell me... the door opened? — If the alarm’s going off, it must have!

Their hesitation vanished. Doubt turned into certainty. Uncertainty into greed.

— Fuck, it’s all mine! — /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ Grab everything before the fire spreads!

With vile laughter and pounding footsteps, they rushed past Ryan’s hiding spot. Only when they disappeared did he exhale and stand.

Whatever happened—it worked in his favor.

— Let’s get down to the basement quickly. — Ah, shit! You scared me!

Ryan’s hammer, lifted on instinct, stopped mere centimeters from the elf’s head. Dimona didn’t even flinch—she simply tilted her head slightly.

— Sorry. I’m used to moving quietly.

— Uh... right...

— I came to help.

Ryan stared at her for a couple of seconds, then let out a short sigh and lowered the hammer.

— Damn it, give a guy some warning.

Dimona gave a short nod and headed for the stairs as if nothing had happened. Ryan followed.

Step-step—

As they hurried down the steep stairs, Dimona suddenly asked:

— Will he be alright?

There was no subject in her sentence, but Ryan understood.

— ...Let’s hope so.

— I wanted to stay and help...

— But he told us to save the people first, right?

Dimona nodded in the darkness. Ryan let out a short chuckle.

— Yeah. That’s just the kind of guy he is. Tries so hard to act calculating, but he’s terrible at it.

— He’s a good person.

That was true. Ryan had known it for a long time. And for some reason, hearing Dimona say it filled him with pride.

But then—

— ......

Dimona stopped midway down the stairs. Her eyelids were tightly shut, trembling faintly.

A subtle tension spread through the air.

Ryan asked cautiously:

— ...What are you doing?

Dimona took a short breath.

— Locking the door.

Creeeeak— Bang!

A distant metallic sound echoed from above. The door to the boss’s room—the one the bandits had rushed into—had just sealed shut.

Ryan fell silent for a moment.

“Trapped in a burning warehouse...”

He could almost imagine their screams.

Dimona didn’t blink.

— You see, I’m not a “good person.”

— Uh... Well. That’s... actually reassuring.

Ryan suddenly wanted to return to Gunther as soon as possible.

***

Unfortunately, the situation was not unfolding as Dimona and Ryan had hoped.

— ...You underhanded bastard.

Gunther let out a heavy sigh.

— Underhanded? What are you talking about?

An arrogant voice answered from the front.

— I am a sacred knight carrying out the will of God. These are orphans—rats from this wretched city. If this trash, abandoned by their own parents, serves the purpose of preserving my life, is that not the greatest honor for them?

Gunther stared coldly at the paladin, who spoke loudly and pompously.

...Yes. Game and reality were different. Even a boss who appeared majestic in-game could act filthy in reality, hiding behind hostages.

The paladin held two children in front of him, sword pressed against their backs.

The boy looked about ten. His thin body was covered in whip marks. The girl beside him was even younger. Fresh bruises darkened the skin beneath her eyes.

Both were far younger than the child Gunther had rescued from the priest’s room.

The paladin spoke again, as if issuing a warning:

— Heathen, drop your weapon.

The boy tightly held his sister’s hand with trembling fingers. There was resignation in his eyes. He didn’t even beg to be saved. His face was empty.

— I said drop it. I’ll count to ten.

The paladin raised his sword, ready to strike.

Gunther did not move. He only stared at them, calculating.

One thing he knew for certain—

“Saving them will be difficult.”

More than fifteen meters separated him from the paladin. No matter what he did, he couldn’t close that distance instantly.

The moment he moved, the children would lose their heads.

“Eyes of the Tyrant” could not push his speed to extremes. At close range, maybe. But at this distance, it was impossible. And the opponent was a 2nd-hierarchy paladin. Physically superior.

“I need to retreat.”

It felt filthy—but honestly, their deaths wouldn’t affect Gunther’s evaluation. He had already saved the main group of hostages and crushed the smuggling organization. He was confident he could defeat the paladin in a fair fight.

If he ended the exam now, Night Raven would rate him at the highest level. And if he cleared Act 1, Chapter 2 without deaths, the reward would be unimaginable.

“Think about the long term. The future.”

Even if he dropped his sword now, nothing would change. Would the paladin grow sentimental and spare them? No. He’d kill Gunther, then sacrifice them anyway.

Of course, he could repeat the life and find a way to save them... but was it worth it?

Two children here. Victims in the basement. Special sacrifices in the priest’s room, including Dimona.

Should he voluntarily sign up for Hard Mode to save all three groups within limited time?

“No.”

...And the paladin had said it himself. Just abandoned orphans. Even if they survived this, they likely wouldn’t last long in this harsh city.

A fact. A naked fact.

— ......

Everything was clear.

And yet Gunther couldn’t move.

Not for some grand moral reason.

It was simply the girl’s gaze—fixed on her brother—that wouldn’t let him.

“...Tch.”

Unlike her brother, who seemed resigned, her eyes still searched for the slightest chance to live. Her lips moved faintly.

“Big brother.”

The image overlapped almost perfectly with what remained in Lee Jonghyeon’s memory. After his father ran away and his mother passed, it had been that same look in his younger sister’s eyes that forced him to stand back up when he wanted to give up.

Those clear, pure eyes.

— Damn it. What a load of shit.

Clang—

Gunther threw down his weapon. He had gripped it so tightly his blood stained the hilt.

— Ha-ha, weaker in spirit than you look.

...Yes. Not just weak. A complete idiot.

Irrational? Inefficient? He knew. The reward level would drop. The death counter would increase. Maybe by one. Maybe by more.

But—

— Hey, bastard.

— ...What?

— Consider yourself dead.

Gunther chose not to regret the decision.

Shhk—

— W-what?!

Once decided, he moved without hesitation. Gunther swiftly slit his own throat with a dagger. If captured alive, it would be worse.

Sharp pain. Vision fading.

The last thing he saw was the children’s terrified faces.

[You have died]

[Calculating death records]

[12/99]

.

.

.

[#12 The Life of a Calculating Man]

[Gunther, are you incapable of calculating profit?]

[Karma of the Twelfth Life: 412]

[Current Karma: 420]

[Accumulated Karma: 1,165]

.

.

.

[Accumulated Karma has exceeded 1,000]

[Sufficient Karma collected to alter fate]

Ding!

[Privilege available: “Partial Co-Regression”]

— You may choose one person to return with you.

— The selected character will retain their pre-regression state (stats, skills, affinity, etc.).

— However, previous memories will not be retained.

— The regression target may be changed each return.

[Designate “Dimona Ryen” as target of Partial Co-Regression]

[Affinity Level with “Dimona Ryen” unlocked]

[Returning to Save Point #2] [10, 9, 8...]

***

From the moment I transmigrated, I never forgot one fact: I must return. Return to Earth, where my family is waiting.

Over the past three years, I had made cowardly choices more than once. I had turned away from injustice. But there had always been a line I could not cross.

It’s not about profit and loss.

It’s about what kind of person I’ll return as... if I return at all.

“Yes, damn it. It’s self-justification.”

[King of Ninety-Nine Defeats says your choice was correct]

[Alphonse of Red Street silently expresses agreement]

[Drug-Addicted Saint wipes tears of emotion]

...Gods who know nothing. They know nothing of the context or my internal struggle.

[They are cheering for you]

Yet their approval, however ignorant, cleared the creeping apathy.

I opened my eyes.

— ...Fine. But this is the last time. No more concessions. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

— Huh? What are you suddenly talking about?

Regression had begun. Self-reflection could wait.

Save Point #2 — right after I saved Ryan from the beating. He was preparing the diversion. I was about to head for the priest’s room. Fortunately, there was still time.

“So... what now?”

If I repeat the same actions, the result repeats. If I don’t deal with the paladin first, he’ll appear again with hostages.

“And then it’s over.”

Even if I keep Dimona with me this time, it won’t solve the hostage problem. The paladin had no magical devices to hack. Once the children are in his hands, they can’t be saved.

“Unless Moon Wolf intervenes...”

But she’s the examiner. She won’t move unless I die. Those are the rules. Other divisions might value lives. Not the Punitive Division.

So the plan must begin with freeing the children.

“But there’s a problem...”

The paladin isn’t the priest. I can’t eliminate him quietly. It will cause noise. Draw attention.

“Then I won’t reach Dimona in time.”

Ten minutes. That’s how long until the priest’s dagger pierces Dimona’s throat.

If I go for the children first, I lose a valuable ally. And if Dimona—the powerful Arcane Runner—is sacrificed, the priest’s enhancement becomes monstrous.

— ......

Strike the paladin first? Or the priest?

Both are wrong.

It sounds impossible—but both problems must be solved simultaneously.

I inhaled sharply.

“...Only one option left.”

A strategy. Let’s call it “Plan Z.”

A reckless operation I just invented.

There’s probably a better way.

“There has to be.”

But there’s no time. Every second counts.

“...It’s fine.”

This world rewards those who choose the unconventional, harder path.

If it works, I’ll gain something that makes the no-death bonus irrelevant.

“Hope mode again? Shut up.”

[Alphonse of Red Street snickers, claiming he said nothing]

Either way—the die is cast.

[Current Karma: 420]

After confirming my remaining Karma, I slapped Ryan’s shoulder.

— Ryan.

— ...You know, whenever you call me like that, I get a bad feeling.

Sorry.

Today, you’re the key player.

After draping the Frost Wraith Cloak over Ryan’s shoulders (with the lizard core tucked in its pocket), I quickly explained my insane plan.

— ......

— Well?

— YOU’RE OUT OF YOUR DAMN MIND!!!!

Craaa—

“Invisible” Ryan howled in horror.