"...Hmm. Does anyone want to voice their opinion? Or even constructive feedback? I'm open to considering it positively right now."
The fairy buzzing just above my head spoke.
But I couldn't focus on the fairy's words.
'I regressed because I was injured, right?'
[ You have taken damage. ]
[ You will regress to the moment you first entered the 0th floor. ]
The message I saw just before regressing.
What stands out is the word 'damage.'
The only damage I received before regressing was a minor scratch from a blade of grass, causing a tiny droplet of blood.
In game terms, a minor damage of only 1 point.
But the system considered that as 'damage,' and I regressed to the moment I first entered the tower.
However, it might just be a coincidence. I needed to experiment.
I discreetly flicked my palm with my finger.
Thud!
It stung a little, but there was no sign of regressing.
"Hmm..."
This amount doesn't count as 'damage.'
Whack!
This time, I forcefully smacked my forearm with my fist.
A numbing sensation spread across my arm, and my skin reddened slightly.
[ You have taken damage. ]
[ You will regress to the moment you first entered the 0th floor. ]
"Damn it! Where am I?"
As I slowly got up from the ground, I heard a familiar voice of a bald old man.
It seemed that unless someone hits you with considerable force, you won't regress.
That's somewhat of a relief. I won't suddenly regress just because someone bumps into me.
But the experiment isn't over yet.
I pinched the back of my hand hard.
"...It doesn't make me regress."
I pinched hard enough to leave a mark, but there was no sign of regressing.
I jumped up and plucked a thick blade of grass.
The thought of getting hurt with it gave me goosebumps.
It's like that cringe-inducing sensation of getting a paper cut.
There's an instinctual aversion, but I had to do it.
I dragged the blade across the back of my hand.
"Ugh, damn it."
The sensation was skin-crawlingly unpleasant. Droplets of blood formed.
[ You have taken damage. ]
[ You will regress to the moment you first entered the 0th floor. ]
"Damn it! Where am I?"
Now, I had a rough idea of the conditions for regression. Unless subjected to a substantial physical blow, I would regress immediately upon getting cut, even if it's just by a blade of grass.
"This sucks."
No matter how I looked at it, I was screwed.
The threshold for regression was too low.
It wasn't just a simple "Isn't regressing frequently good?"
Compare it with death regression.
Those with death regression usually have no regrets when they regress. Why? Because they were dying anyway, so regressing is always beneficial.
But my situation is different.
Even if things are going my way, a slight mistake could force me to regress.
If death regression is like riding a well-trained racehorse, I'm like riding a wild horse in a vast meadow.
"Hello! Wasteful humans of low rank! Nice to meet you!"
Lost in thought, the tutorial fairy reappeared.
"...I'll just quickly cover the essential explanations? I don't want to do it, but it's protocol."
I half-listened to the familiar fairy's explanation.
"Status window!!!"
"Status window!"
"Status window!"
People everywhere started shouting "Status window."
This was the moment I had regressed to.
I saw the word "regression" in the status window, got excited, ran out, and regressed because I got a cut on my ankle from the grass.
Looking back, it was a stupid reason to regress.
After the brief frenzy of people shouting "Status window" subsided, the clearing became calm again.
My choice here was to observe.
Information was always a precious resource for regressors.
Rather than taking the initiative, I wanted to gather information first.
From my observations, people were divided into three categories. First, there were people who gathered to comfort each other, discussing mundane matters.
"My mom would be worried..."
"I was cooking... what if a fire breaks out at home?"
Some talked about their daily lives, perhaps as a way to escape from the reality of the tower.
"Do you know your ability?"
"...I don't see anything about an ability?"
"...Really?"
There were also those who subtly sized up others with malicious intent.
Second, a group hovered near the pile of weapons placed in the center of the clearing.
"Hmm... I prefer swords."
"Don't you know? In real combat, it's always spears, not swords."
People picked up weapons they liked, testing their weight and feel.
"Ouch, why is this so heavy?"
"If I swing this wrong, I could throw out my back."
Naturally, modern people had never wielded such weapons, so their stances were incredibly awkward.
However, these individuals were preparing for combat, clearly recognizing that they were in a 'tower'.
The third and last group... each was doing something different.
Thud! Thud!
One man was furiously digging the ground with a shovel from the weapon pile.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
A woman repetitively practiced slashing with a sword.
"Hmm...uh..."
Another man seemed to be searching for something in the weapon pile.
All of them seemed to be wasting their energy on peculiar tasks.
Unable to curb my curiosity, I approached the man who was digging.
The digger was a man in his 40s, who looked like an ordinary office worker who had worn, or rather, had been wearing a suit. His pants were torn to make them look like shorts, and his jacket was buried in the dirt, with only its sleeves poking out.
Thud! Thud!
The man, with his shirt sleeves rolled up, continued to dig vigorously.
"Excuse me."
I cautiously started a conversation.
He stopped digging, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and shifted his gaze to me.
"...What?"
His reply was rather curt, but I wasn't deterred.
"Why are you digging?"
"None of your business."
He seemed to be extremely wary of me.
"...Okay."
I backed off, but I had a hunch about what he might be thinking.
Hidden pieces.
The people in the third group seemed to have read too many web novels or webtoons. Right from the start, they were looking for hidden pieces.
Maybe there was a treasure buried at the starting point of the tutorial, or if you swing a sword 100,000 times in the tutorial, you'd receive a skill. Or perhaps, a legendary weapon was hidden amongst the ordinary ones in the pile.
Though their actions seemed rather pointless to any observer, I didn't want to discourage them.
If they genuinely found something, I could just regress and take it for myself.
I settled down next to a group of conversing individuals.
The tutorial fairy had mentioned a 'system' earlier.
I decided to wait until something happened.
Though I couldn't tell the exact time without a clock, about 10 minutes seemed to have passed.
< Announcement. The rules for the tutorial stage will be announced. >
A translucent message box appeared before my eyes.
"What's this?"
"...An announcement?"
Judging by the reactions of others, it wasn't just visible to me.
I refocused on the message in front of me.
< Tutorial Stage >
- Clear Condition 1: Swallow the 'Golden Orb' hidden somewhere in the forest to move to the next stage. However, only 50 Golden Orbs exist.
- Clear Condition 2: A portal to the next stage will appear if you defeat the boss, Goblin Shaman.
From a rough estimate, there were well over 50 people in the clearing. The tower was forcing a choice upon the people.
Would they all join forces to defeat the Goblin Shaman, or would they opt to find and use the Golden Orb to ensure their survival?
Usually, someone would step up and suggest, "Let's all work together to defeat the boss!"
But it seemed everyone here was selfish, as no one proposed that idea.
"...Should we stick together?"
"You look strong. How about teaming up?"
Defeating the Goblin Shaman seemed daunting, and they needed to find the Golden Orb. So, some started seeking out allies.
"Excuse me... If you don't have a team yet..." I did receive several recruitment offers,
"...Sorry."
But I had no choice but to decline.
After all, I couldn't even leave because of the thickets.
Thus, excluding middle-aged folks who denied the existence of the system, cowards who lacked the courage to fight from the start, and a few oddballs, everyone else left the clearing in search of their own paths.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Finally, I picked up a sword and subtly took a spot next to the woman who was still practicing her swordsmanship.
I had seen her earlier, threatening a man who proposed joining her party with her sword. Carelessly starting a conversation with her seemed like a bad idea.
After giving me a brief glance, she continued to swing her sword, ignoring me.
Her ponytail, tied with a string, suited her well. She was an oriental beauty. Of course, her beauty had nothing to do with me.
Whoosh!
"Ugh..."
I mustered up the courage to swing the sword, but it felt like I was going to dislocate my shoulder.
This sword is heavier than I thought. Controlling its direction isn't easy either.
But I need to get used to the sword.
If I don't get stronger, I'll forever be stuck in this tutorial, repeating it.
The tower I know is a place where the weak cannot survive.
My body keeps regressing. What needs to adapt to the sword is my mind.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
I will become a hero.
Definitely.
I'm not sure how much time has passed. But judging by the setting sun, it seems it wasn't just a short while.
"Phew..."
I swung the sword until my hands trembled. I had to stop, fearing that if I continued, I might peel the skin off my palms.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
The woman with the ponytail was still energetically swinging her sword.
"Wow."
Looking at her, she's really pretty. Her nose bridge is prominent... and those beauty spots under her eyes are so sexy...
Zap!
Seemingly sensing my gaze, she turned her head and glared at me.
A regressor should always have a goal.
And I just set my historic first goal.
Befriend that woman and learn swordsmanship from her.
Of course, becoming stronger is the main goal. Enjoying the view is just a bonus. They call this killing two birds with one stone.
Thud! Thud!
Whoosh! Whoosh!
And there I was, setting my personal goals with the sounds of digging and sword swinging as my ASMR,
"Arrrrrgh!"
A human's shrieking scream echoed from afar.
If there's one voice I can't forget, it's that of the bald man who always annoyed me every time I regressed.
"...Damn."
Someone has died.