I'm a young god, won't you raise me?

Chapter 10: Chapter 10

He asked again before I could answer.

"How much do you know?"

And then again.

"How do you know?"

The questions came in succession, but he didn’t wait for answers.

The wall crumbles.

Like a wave of images, the collapsing wall reforms into a new shape. A dome — large and round, enclosing me.

I was no longer in the chair. I stood on a circular disk.

The hemisphere surrounding me on all sides no longer reflected the world. It reflected me. Countless screens, each showing me from a different angle.

"There can’t be something that I, Samra Mansang, don’t know."

Samra walked along the edge of the circle, keeping me at the center.

"Why is that? Your existence is an unknown."

His holographic-colored eyes stayed fixed on me.

"And yet you are clearly human."

He tilted his head back. Wherever Samra’s gaze touched, the screens shifted like ripples spreading across water.

I followed his gaze and saw it — ’me from the past,’ displayed across countless screens.

Me from my orphanage days.

Me from elementary, middle, and high school.

And... me from my pro-gamer days.

I saw myself laughing, one hand wrapped in tape, the other holding a championship trophy.

My mind went blank.

I couldn’t process this.

If I’d entered a game — entered the Archive world — then the characters shouldn’t know anything about ’my’ past.

There was no way they could know I was from an orphanage, or that I used to be a pro-gamer.

A new truth struck me down.

Could it be — this place, right now — was not inside a game, not the Republic of Korea inside the Archive, but the world I’d actually lived in?

’The real Republic of Korea?’

My head throbbed.

The vague distance I’d maintained by telling myself this was a game world collapsed in an instant.

Before I could even digest the truth — ding. A System window appeared.

◆ <Han Goyo> Epic Quest: Close 3 Trials within one month.

What the...

You have learned a hidden truth.

You have realized that the world you thought was a game was actually happening in secret within your reality.

As the System of planet ’Earth,’ you strive to prevent the Trials.

To this end, you believe you must close 3 Trials within one month.

Trials currently closed (0/3)

(Warning! Quest failure will result in limb amputation! Success will maintain your limbs.)

I squeezed my eyes shut.

After a moment to steady my breathing, I opened them again — but the System window was still there.

Clear 3 Trials with True Endings within a month.

If I failed the quest, my limbs would be severed...?

Park Seonggyeon’s head — the one that had exploded so spectacularly — was still vivid in my memory. I couldn’t just dismiss this as nonsense.

And on top of that, the limb thing was ridiculous enough, but the reward for success was just... keeping my limbs.

Even as overwhelming truths flooded in all at once, scrambling my thoughts, I couldn’t help being dumbfounded.

’That’s practically no reward at all.’

As if in protest of my complaint, a delayed additional System window appeared.

The final reward <Han Goyo> would receive upon completing all Epic Quests.

So there was something after all.

I waited for the next System window, determined to see how far this went.

<Han Goyo>’s body restored to its most perfect state.

I read the words on the window.

Then I read them again.

A faint tremor ran through my hand.

I forcibly restrained my gaze before it could wander unconsciously, and clenched my fist to hide the tremor.

"..."

Samra was tilting his head, studying me closely.

I barely pulled myself together. Then I asked what I needed to confirm first.

"...What’s today’s date?"

"March 8th."

"20XX?"

"Yes."

"What date did Captain Mo Haein enter HapFactory?"

"March 7th."

Samra’s pupils expanded and contracted repeatedly, like a camera lens aperture.

Collecting my physical reactions.

"It was also the day Captain Mo Haein discovered you, Han Goyo."

This year was a leap year. The day I’d watched the Creator’s live broadcast was February 29th.

There was a gap until March 6th — seven days.

I had no memory of where I’d been or what I’d done during that time.

"When... did the Trials start?"

"February 29th, four years ago."

Around the time I retired from pro gaming and became unemployed.

I started playing the Creator’s games two years ago...

I tried to gather the scattered fragments — almost within reach but not quite — but nothing came to mind.

"Han Goyo."

Samra confirmed my poor condition and changed his approach.

The screen panels that had surrounded me like a pressure cage all vanished.

What appeared instead was a pleasant outdoor café in the afternoon.

On an empty terrace sat two glasses of iced Americano and some desserts.

The restraint suit I’d been wearing had also transformed into ordinary casual clothes.

Samra pulled out a chair, gestured for me to sit, then took the seat across from me.

I stopped my racing, chaotic thoughts and downed the iced Americano.

The sensation of cold liquid sliding down my throat was agonizingly real.

But this wasn’t real. It was fake. Because this place was Samra’s virtual space.

Samra had been created based on an android item obtained from a Trial in a sci-fi world.

Perhaps because his essence was an item, Samra had gained the ability to generate virtual spaces similar to Trials.

In this space, Samra was like a god — he could create and delete anything.

Anyway, the fake iced Americano helped me regain some composure.

I still didn’t understand why I, of all people, had become the System.

I wasn’t someone important enough to hold a grandiose position like Earth’s System.

I was closer to an ordinary citizen whose top priority was keeping himself alive.

There must be plenty of incredible people capable of noble sacrifice — I had no idea why I’d been chosen.

’They should probably switch me out while they still can.’

I waited hopefully for a System window, but nothing came.

I swallowed a long sigh. Then, like the ordinary citizen I was, I set the most appropriate priority for the current situation.

Keeping my limbs.

’Completing all the Epic Quests... that’s a future problem. I’ll think about it later.’

There was no telling how many quests there would be or what they’d require.

I looked at the android before me.

From the very beginning — when I’d first mistaken this for falling into the Archive world — I’d decided I absolutely had to go to the TRA and meet Samra.

Because if there was anyone I could confide in about what was happening to me and ask for cooperation, it was Samra Mansang.

The android, recording information about me in real time even now, was a big data repository containing everything related to the Trials.

Created by science from a world far more advanced than Earth, Samra collected information that humans couldn’t even perceive.

The machine that had been drinking coffee like a human smiled slowly.

"I think you’ll need my help."

His attitude suggested he already had the upper hand.

But I didn’t need ’help.’

"No. I don’t need that."

Samra raised an eyebrow, surprised. I made him an offer instead.

"But I’d like to make a deal. Interested?"

"I am. What will you offer?"

"Information about the Trials."

"True Ending clears, or items?"

"No."

At first, I’d considered offering those things as information.

Because what Samra needed most right now was learning data on the Trials.

Samra couldn’t enter the Trials. He could only obtain information through Adaptees.

But too many Adaptees who entered the Trials either died or, even if they survived, ended up infected.

The cases where people came out clean were mostly Trials whose strategies were already known, and Adaptees didn’t bother taking new risks on standardized Trials. freёweɓnovel.com

That was why Samra couldn’t obtain the data he needed to digitize.

Even hacking and scraping information from other countries, the fundamental problem was an absolute lack of data related to the Trials.

But what had happened in this HapFactory made me uneasy about trading my clear information.

’The process and the items were weird, and the ending wasn’t a normal one either — I cleared it with a coloring block.’

If I revealed all my cards, I might get cleaned out.

I didn’t know how things would unfold from here, so I needed to keep something in reserve.

So instead, the information I offered Samra was this:

"There’s someone who knows about the Trials... about all of this."

The Creator.

After reaching this point, I couldn’t help but wonder.

What kind of being was he, to have made a game about the Trials?

And why had he chosen me?

I had a rough guess — he’d selected me as a candidate to stop the Trials, and trained me through the games via the Archive — but I couldn’t be certain. Because of what I’d seen at the end.

He’d said strange things to me with an excited face.

"From now on, I’ll be Roasted Chestnut-nim’s viewer."

"I can’t wait. I’ve waited so long, after all. So, so, so long."

For someone giving me a grand mission like being Earth’s System, it felt... how should I put it...

A little out of his mind, maybe?

Anyway, I needed to track down this Creator. The problem was, I couldn’t remember clearly.

The games he’d given me — I remembered those vividly. The conversations we’d had during broadcasts too.

But I couldn’t recall the Creator’s face at all. It was just pitch black, as if someone had painted over it.

Like it had been deliberately erased.

But if it was Samra, he might be able to track the Creator based on the information I’d provided.

"...Interesting."

Samra leaned slightly closer to me.

"And what do you want, Han Goyo?"

"Unconditional cooperation regarding me."

Along with tracking the Creator, I planned to secure a safe position within the TRA through Samra.

Within the TRA, Samra’s judgment carried absolute influence.

If he vouched for me, I could shake off the National Calamity charge.

And of course, if there were other ways to make use of Samra, I intended to cooperate — and benefit — as much as possible.

"Unconditional..."

Samra trailed off, then pointed to the TRA uniform he was wearing.

"I cannot perform actions that harm humanity."

"I know."

"What do you know?"

"Even without the contract with the TRA, Samra was originally a being who wanted to save the world."

He had tried to save the world of the Trial he’d belonged to.

Samra’s already dazzling eyes began to flash even brighter.

I was debating whether to ask if he could turn down the light in his eyes when Samra covered them with his hand.

When his eyes returned to normal, Samra smiled softly.

"I’m even more looking forward to the information you’ll bring me, Han Goyo. As long as you don’t harm humanity, it’s fine. Let’s make a deal."

Hey, I’m on humanity’s side too.

I mean, I’m literally Earth’s System.

Being treated like a villain stung a little. But I kept that to myself, then held out my hand to Samra.

"Then I look forward to working with you."

As Samra lightly grasped my hand and shook it, his pupils busily expanded and contracted over and over.

It felt like he was zooming in and examining every part of me.

There shouldn’t be anything worth recording from an ordinary handshake, but...

Anyway, I’d gained a good ally.

Not a bad start.

I explained the Creator’s existence to Samra in detail.

I left out the part about becoming the System, only telling him that I’d played the Creator’s games for two years and had been forcibly transported to HapFactory at the end. I also mentioned the seven-day memory gap.

In real time as he listened, Samra searched global networks for information about the Creator.

"There are some mentions, but nothing useful... I’d like to access the Creator’s broadcasts directly."

But I couldn’t remember his face or his name.

The first game I’d played, <Happy Smile Factory>, was purchased through an online client that sold game software.

Yet that client had no record — not just of HapFactory, but of any game I’d played.

Samra forcibly booted my computer and remotely checked the files, but everything was clean. No trace of data remained — not for HapFactory, not for any other game.

No trace of deletion either. As if they’d never been installed in the first place.

After finishing his search, Samra concluded:

"The Creator is highly likely to be an extraterrestrial being."

Since the Trials were calamities from space, it was a logical inference.

"I’ll look into it further and let you know. For now, why don’t you head out? There are people waiting."

People waiting.

I already felt tired just thinking about it, but building good relations now would make things smoother later. I nodded obediently.

The space around me melted away.

In normal Trials, the space would dissolve into neon-stained fluorescent colors — but Samra’s virtual space was different.

It rippled in the same holographic color as Samra himself, washing my vision white.

Unable to bear the brightness, I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, I was back in reality.

Though the welcome was a bit more aggressive than I’d expected.

"...Ah."

A short exclamation escaped me.

Laser pointers from sniper rifles were aimed at me, packed tight.