Regression Is Too Much

Chapter 127

A month had passed since clearing the 5th floor.

While a month might seem like a long time, in the grand scheme of a lifetime, it is not that significant. Assuming a human lifespan of 100 years, a month constitutes approximately 0.08% of one’s life. Wasting 0.08% of your life isn’t something anyone would despair over.

You think I’m exaggerating? Let’s consider the earth’s transformation. If it takes 10 years for landscapes to change drastically, a month would account for only about 0.8% of that period. Similarly, it’s an insignificant figure.

『 Player Association Established… The first President is “Mighty Michael” Michael Jeter.』

『 Korean Government Awards Presidential Commendation to Choi Ji-Won… First Domestic Player to Climb the 10th Floor.』

However, during turbulent times like these, a single month was more than enough to upend human society. For players, their lives had clearly changed. Even ordinary people, who could barely comprehend information about the “Tower,” felt its influence firsthand.

『 Actor Lee Min-Ho Reveals He Has Awakened as a Player… Attributes Kept Confidential.』

『 60-Year-Old Grandpa Crosses 100 Meters in 10 Seconds—What’s His Secret?!』

For the general public, the most striking aspect was the mere existence of players. A frail woman lifting a car with ease or conjuring flames in midair had ceased to be surprising. After all, hadn’t the U.S. Vice President created an ice block live on television?

YouTube’s algorithm had already been overtaken by player-related videos, and players appearing on mainstream TV was now routine. People had come to accept the idea that “humans with superpowers” had emerged.

『 Surge in Player Crimes… Criticism of the Korean Government’s “Slow Response.”』

『 Subway Massacre on Morning Commute Leaves 71 Dead… Culprit is “Another Player.”』

『 Why You Should Beware of Players Without Visible Body Parts.』

Of course, this didn’t mean that players had become universally embraced. Although governments were trying to heroize some players, one of the main issues brought about by the Tower was the crimes committed by players. After all, even mentally unstable individuals had been granted powers.

Players with enhanced stats and unique abilities could kill ordinary people as easily as snapping a child’s wrist. They didn’t even need visible weapons—since their very bodies were lethal, assassination cases surged worldwide. Preventative measures were nearly impossible.

『 Korean Government Declares “No Compromise.” Allows Use of Live Ammunition.』

『 Japan’s “Concrete Prison”: Does It Work? (Exclusive Column)』

Naturally, world leaders weren’t fools and took action. Problematic players were immediately shot on sight. No matter how extraordinary a player was, they were still human at their core—and humans die when shot.

But what about players who escaped through portals to the 1st floor? Exploiting the fact that portals always appeared at the same location in the real world, governments laid traps or even sealed the areas with concrete. If the location happened to be in the middle of a city, the economic losses were astronomical, but… well, better that than more deaths.

『 U.S. Association’s Vigilante Teams Granted Authority: Their Surprising Success. Can This Be Adopted in Korea?』

The newly established Player Association also took the lead by organizing vigilante squads to maintain public order. While their long-term role was uncertain, for now, the association was playing a relatively positive role.

Why the sudden mention of the association?

[Mighty Coin.]

[+19,832.41%]

[Kim Jun-Ho’s Balance: ₩1,983,241,000.]

“…Wow.”

Thanks to Player Association President Michael Jeter, the ₩10 million I had invested in Mighty Coin had turned into ₩2 billion.

₩2 billion. An amount I had never even dreamed of holding. With ₩2 billion, the possibilities were endless. I could order 100,000 chickens or buy ten luxury sports cars. Nearly every indulgence humanity offered was now within reach.

There were only a few things this fortune couldn’t buy. Hmm… It wasn’t quite enough to buy a house in Seoul, nor was it sufficient for a mid-tier potion.

Speaking of potions, mid-tier ones were now more expensive than houses. Not only could they heal severe injuries, but they also promised cures for almost any ailment, showcasing the Tower’s possibilities to humanity.

Research labs worldwide pestered the wealthy to acquire these mysterious liquids, and the rich were eager to keep at least one bottle at home. Naturally, potion prices skyrocketed, leaving ordinary people unable even to glimpse them.

For the record, Choi Ji-Won and I had an abundance of potions. Choi Ji-Won was simply too strong to need them, and I didn’t need them because I would regress whenever I got injured. But what use was an abundance of potions when they couldn’t even cure a common cold caused by a snow beast?

“…How’s your body feeling?”

“Kinda in-between…”

After two weeks of rest, my condition had significantly improved. The tickle in my throat had subsided, and the mild fever had vanished.

But “improved” didn’t mean “cured.” Somewhere in my body, the remnants of the cold still lurked.

“Is this even a cold…?”

Normally, colds don’t last more than a week. With proper care and rest, the duration is even shorter. Could a cold lasting over two weeks still be called a cold? Was this some unknown disease from another world?!

“Well, if it were that, I’d be in much worse shape…”

“That’s true…”

Of course, that wasn’t the case. Choi Ji-Won, who had stayed in the same space as me this whole time, was still perfectly fine. The problem lay with me.

Time dragged on could be deadly. Finding a way to heal my body or climbing the 11th floor with this lingering cold was a decision I needed to make.

Despite the cold, my condition wasn’t bad. It wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t the worst either. If I were to put it into numbers, I’d say I was at about 90% of my full strength. Just with a slight, annoying discomfort.

Besides, if the worst happened and I regressed due to the cold, I still had one last resort: a low-grade elixir. As long as I didn’t regress before consuming it after entering the Tower, I didn’t have to worry about being trapped in a time prison.

“…”

Still, it was best to explore all possible options. And fortunately, I had one option left.

“Ji-Won-ah.”

My girlfriend, Choi Ji-Won is a well-known celebrity. If you Google her name, her face pops up instantly. She’s been on national news channels, and her fame in Korea is sky-high. She’s even mentioned in foreign communities under the nickname “Choi Ji-Won, the one who transformed the 2nd floor.”

“Can you contact the Player Association for me?”

For someone like Choi Ji-Won to personally make a request to the Player Association? An association that’s actively trying to gain influence would never miss the chance to owe her a favor.

“…What should I say?”

“It’s simple. I’ll tell you exactly what to say.”

The plan was straightforward: if potions didn’t work, I’d bring in a healer. And I’d have that healer cure me.

But not just any healer. No, the person I had in mind was unique—the most skilled healer I had ever met.

“Hello, yes, this is Choi Ji-Won. Yes, that Choi Ji-Won. Is this the Player Association? I’m trying to find someone. He’s an American.”

William Smith. The American priest I met on the 4th floor. He once performed a miracle, instantly healing someone who was gravely injured. With his incredible healing abilities, my lingering cold might vanish entirely. It was a gamble worth taking.

“Yes, yes. His name is William Smith. He’s white, has dull blonde hair, and is a middle-aged man with wrinkles. He should be registered with the U.S. Player Association… Do you know who I’m talking about?”

With ₩2 billion in my account, I could book him a first-class plane ticket myself. On top of that, the person asking was Choi Ji-Won, Korea’s top player and recipient of the Presidential Medal. Worst-case scenario, I could mention how I saved people on the 4th floor. Naturally, I expected a positive response.

“…Ah, I see. Oh… yes. Okay. Thank you. Goodbye.”

Choi Ji-Won lowered her phone, shaking her head in disbelief.

“They said they can’t reach him.”

“Why not?”

“Well…”

It wasn’t because William Smith bore a grudge against me over the 4th floor. My memory of William Smith was of a kind, ethical, and warm-hearted American.

The reason was simpler than that.

“He’s apparently… impossibly busy right now.”

“?”

“He’s been overwhelmed with people seeking treatment from across the United States…”

William Smith was so busy that he barely had time to breathe.

“…?”

Nationwide Treatment? Suddenly?

Confused, I grabbed my phone and searched through U.S. online communities. Just typing “William” brought up a flood of posts.

『There’s a god living in California. He’s saving the sick.』

『I’m grateful to live in the same era as William Smith…』

『I hate myself for ever doubting his abilities. This era belongs to William Smith.』

『Even Florence Nightingale was just a great nurse in comparison.』

“????”

None of this sounded familiar. I was certain I had never seen anything like this during my previous regressions. If this level of buzz had existed, I would have known.

Which could only mean one thing.

“…This is my doing, isn’t it?”

The kind-hearted healer William Smith had become a pivotal figure—and it was all because of me.

– – – End of Chapter – – -

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