The S-Classes That I Raised

Chapter 639: Temporary System Administrator (2)

[□□□□□ System – New Registration]

A message window popped up in front of my eyes.

[Creator No. 05 – □□□□ – Hermit in the Tree Shade]

Unreadable characters flashed past.

[Temporary System Administrator Han Yujin

Registered under Creator No. 05]

[Do you accept?]

“If I become part of Sloth’s group, nothing big changes, right? You have to be careful where you stamp your seal on a contract, you know.”

Sloth looked over at the Lighthouse Keeper, as if telling her to speak for him.

“Just think of it as him being your superior only for system management. He’ll be able to stop you if you try to mishandle the system. Once you step down as temporary system administrator, that’s it. Consider it retirement.”

So sneaking a peek at system information on the side was probably out.

“So going in as a subordinate means I take less responsibility but also lose some freedom, yeah?”

“You won’t have much authority to begin with. You’re temporary staff. They aren’t going to hand you a lot of power.”

That was true. It was better to play it safe than to gamble on a low–probability, high–risk option… even if it was a bit of a waste. No, no gambling. I agreed to be part of Sloth’s group. A willow–branch–like blue pattern remained from the back of my hand down to my wrist.

“No Transcendent is going to recognize Sloth’s mark. He doesn’t have any enemies. So among us, he’s the safest choice.”

Guess he couldn’t be bothered with socializing.

“His mana is well hidden too. He’s good at working without drawing attention. He’ll be finished with the last adjustments soon.”

“Just a few more questions! Oh, could you maybe make a subordinate contract with me?”

Still, I really didn’t think the Lighthouse Keeper would pull anything shady. She was usually asleep anyway. At my words, she laughed.

“You want to sleep when we do?”

“…No.”

So if I became a subordinate, I’d be forced into the same sleep schedule as my ‘master,’ huh?

“If the Root gives up on devouring a world, what exactly happens then? There must be worlds that survived, right?”

“It varies a bit from world to world, but on average– as the Root’s power withdraws from that world, the dungeon ranks gradually drop until they eventually disappear. The mana density of the world decreases, and it becomes harder for Awakened to operate. Their abilities stay the same, but it’s harder to get mana. Recovery is worse than before too.”

Holy crap, I should stock up on mana potions.

“It takes at least ten years for dungeons to disappear completely. The mana density doesn’t drop below a certain point though. There are worlds that had high mana density from the start. Your world has a very low mana density, but once it falls under the Root’s influence, it never goes back to how it was. It’ll probably stay at a little less than half of what it is now.”

“At that level, an S–rank would be about A– to B–rank, and if the dungeons vanish, things get pretty complicated.”

“In exchange, monsters will start occurring naturally. Once mana density passes a certain threshold, even non–sentient creatures start storing mana in their bodies and turn into what you call monsters. With the environment in your world, you’d see a lot of them in the sea.”

…Yerim, it really is going to become your world. Even if it wasn’t that, with dungeons sticking around for ten more years, adapting to a world that changed again didn’t sound all that hard.

“Then–”

“Wait a second, Sloth! Just a bit longer!”

Sloth slowly nodded. Thank you! Critical questions, critical questions…

“Please tell me everything you know about Crescent Moon!”

“She’s kind and cute.”

…Maybe the Lighthouse Keeper’s sense of aesthetics was a bit off.

“What about her abilities?”

“Adorable.”

“No, I mean skills and stuff!”

“Asking for detailed information on someone’s abilities is bad manners. Hmm… She often handled silver threads. Glittering threads of light slowly twining and swaying, with moonlight always circling around them. It was very pretty. She was gentle with everyone from the start, so she never really fought. She didn’t like hurting others. She’s a Transcendent, so she’s strong, of course.”

…That was completely useless. Was she talking about a different Crescent Moon?

“My lifespan’s been kind of all over the place. Is there a way to live long without being bound to a Transcendent?”

“Take good care of your body. Exercise.”

“I mean like items that extend lifespan!”

“Your lifespan wearing down is the result of an overload on your very existence itself, so that’s difficult. Subordination is just the easiest way to reduce that load.”

“I want to take care of my kids. Is there any way to get SS–rank or higher items or skills? Preferably L–rank, or better yet mythic–grade!”

“The system gives rewards based on causality. That’s why items like wish stones come out, even though they’re difficult to create even for us. But you’ve done a lot, inside and outside the system… I’ll have Rookie look into something separately for you.”

“Thank you! I love you!”

And then…

“What do you think about getting rid of the Root?”

The Lighthouse Keeper frowned. Sloth, who’d been sitting there half–dozing, blankly zoning out, also turned to look at me.

“Hard to say. Opinions differ, but the Root created this world. Maybe things would get better if it vanished. But the world itself could disappear with the Root too. Honestly, I don’t want to poke at an uncertainty like that.”

She waved a hand, saying this was how it is when you get older.

“In this world…”

Sloth sighed and continued.

“I believe there is no such thing as a being without a reason.”

There had to be a reason the Root created worlds and then swallowed them.

“There’s not much time left now. We’ve slowed time in this space to keep holding it together. By now, about five seconds should have passed. They’ll start thinking something’s off over there.”

Only five seconds. Spatial movement’s five seconds were long, sure. Still, it felt like I’d heard more or less everything I could from the Lighthouse Keeper. She said she didn’t really know what the Unfilial Children and the Filial Duty Addicts were plotting, so I’d just have to let that go.

“Is there maybe any way for me or the S–ranks around me to get strong enough to rival Transcendents and drive them all out– of course there isn’t.”

Please don’t look at me like that.

“The results can be remarkably good compared to what you put in, but there are limits. Honestly, the wish stone wasn’t a normal outcome either.”

“…Huh?”

“Even if we say they died, they were never just one person to begin with, and considering the title grade, their value should have been at least E–rank by baseline standards. But it was calculated as the solo achievement of an F–rank.”

I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment and reopened them. It was still painful and hard to revisit that time in detail. Looking at it in such a calculated way made me recoil even more.

“It’s not a number that should be impossible, though.”

“…Then it’s fine.”

Even if someone had meddled, thanks to that interference I got the wish stone. I should be grateful instead. Then now… One last question came to mind.

“And is there, by any chance, a way to… bring someone back from the dead?”

It was something I’d had no choice but to keep wondering about. If, by some miracle, it were possible.

“It depends on the situation. If the body and, in your world’s terms, the soul are still present, then yes, it’s possible to revive them. Fix the body and reconnect the soul. Of course, it’s not easy. Especially if the persistent life force, the lifespan of either the body or the soul, has already run out. That makes it even trickier.”

The Lighthouse Keeper held out one hand. Above her palm, a magic stone appeared, floating.

“When a life dies, the soul returns to the Root. As quickly as instantly, usually within a day, and at the very longest it disappears completely before a hundred days have passed. After that, a full resurrection is impossible. You can repair the body and pull up the memories left in it to make something that looks revived, but it won’t last long before it breaks down.”

Ru Ga Pheya had told me something similar. That unless you were the Root itself, perfectly copying a person was almost impossible.

“This magic stone could be called a crystallized soul. You know every sentient being contains a piece of the Root, right?”

“Yeah. And that innate S–ranks, the Source–bearers, contain a higher proportion of the Root’s power.”

“When a person becomes SS–rank or SSS–rank, a magic stone forms in them like in monsters. A kind of pearl made around the minuscule Root power inside a person. As for monsters, we still don’t know exactly why even F–ranks have magic stones. Maybe the Root creates them with some special purpose.”

The stone spun slowly above her palm.

“Even though it’s not as good as an intact soul, you can revive someone using their magic stone. But magic stones also gradually lose their original information. Old ones become nothing but lumps of power. Even if you revive them right away, compared to a soul, a lot of information is missing.”

“…I see.”

So in the end, when it came to my little brother, it was impossible. I’d expected as much, but it still knocked the wind out of me. Maybe sensing how I felt, Yuhyun let out a small cry and pressed his head against my chest.

“Thank you, both of you. I don’t know what time of year it is for you, but happy New Year. Honestly, I feel like I should bow and do a New Year’s greeting.”

You never know, they might even give me New Year’s money. Sloth stared straight at me for a moment, then spoke.

“Very well. I wish you a happy New Year.”

“It’s been… a very long time since a child greeted me.”

“Right? Sounds like you had a similar custom where you’re from.”

“Yes.”

Thump. A black pouch dropped onto the table. It looked like one of those lucky pouches. I set Yuhyun down beside me and quickly got to my feet.

“How many times?”

Sloth held up three fingers. So in Sloth’s world, you bowed three times.

“Even if it’s a bit different, please find it cute~”

I didn’t know what their version of New Year’s money was, but I could figure that out later. First, receive it. I hurriedly gave three deep, polite bows with all my sincerity. The Lighthouse Keeper watched us like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

“May all your wishes come true, and may your sleep be peaceful. Okay, Yuhyun, you bow too. This is my little brother. He’s sweet and cute.”

“May the sun of the first day be the moon of the last.”

Probably some kind of well–wishing phrase. As he spoke, Sloth took out a slightly smaller pouch and set it on the table. Then he slid it toward me and Yuhyun.

“Thank you!”

“Seems the joy outweighed the hassle. Hurry and put them away. We’re really out of time now.”

In a panic, I shoved both pouches into my inventory.

“My little brother–”

“It’s dangerous, so we have to send him back.”

Yuhyun returned to his human form.

“Hyung!”

“Yuhyun, it’s not dangerous. Go on ahead. Everyone must be worried. Tell them I’m okay.”

“But–”

“Even if you couldn’t hear them, you saw everything. The vibe was fine, right? I asked everything I was curious about.”

“You can’t tell him.”

The Lighthouse Keeper warned me. I do have that much sense, you know. Yuhyun looked between the Lighthouse Keeper and Sloth, then turned worried eyes back to me.

“…You have to be careful, Hyung.”

“Yeah. I’ll be back soon. I can, right?”

“We can’t harm you.”

“See? They said so. Oh, this is your New Year’s money.”

I handed him his pouch. With a face full of hesitation, Yuhyun pulled himself away from me and stepped back. His figure disappeared, and then I too was swallowed by darkness. And then I was moved somewhere–

“Urgh!”

The ground under my feet was slippery. I failed to plant my feet properly, toppled over, and rolled, getting wedged in a gap. What the hell, something was off about this place. The curved, rounded floor was a deep, clear red. It was smooth and solid like a gemstone, and even sparkled as if dusted with gold powder. What was it called, that… like a red version of lapis lazuli. Weird interior–

Ggggrrk–

“W–what the hell!”

The floor suddenly began to move slowly. Massive red gem pillars collided and squirmed against each other and… Gasp!

‘…Scales?’

One rounded section of the floor rose up, and I caught sight of clear cracks. The tight, diamond–shaped pattern was just like a snake’s. The scales of a huge snake.

A truly enormous red jewel snake.

Crack!

Its massive body segments pressed against each other, scales shuddering. If I got wedged in between them, I’d be flattened in an instant. I hurriedly activated Grace and struggled to get up. But my feet slipped again. Before I could even pull out and put on boots, my body rolled along with the snake’s body.

Thump, somewhere a snake’s tail struck the ground. A visceral wave of disgust crawled up my back. It’s not like I hate snakes, and I think Belare is cute, but not at this size!

“S–stop!”

As the snake picked up speed, my body bounced around in every direction. Thanks to Grace I avoided serious injuries, but I kept slamming into things and everything ached and throbbed. At this rate, I was going to be covered in bruises.

“Ugh, enough!”

Dizzy! I flailed, trying somehow to get to my feet, when suddenly the floor dropped away. As I fell, something wrapped around my waist and hauled me up. A cold, unpleasant sensation seeped through my clothes.

“Urgh…”

The snake had shrunk, but even so, its body was still as thick as a human torso. Its tail was coiled around me. On the floor that finally came into view, big and small snakes seethed and writhed everywhere. Scales in various colors flashed all over. It was, literally, a snake pit.

“So small and weak.”

A low, heavy, slightly hoarse voice rumbled out. I lifted my head. In the midst of the mass of snakes, a lavish throne rose up. On the chair, decorated with gold, red jewels, and radiant cloth, sat a man with the upper body of a human and the lower body of a snake.

Vivid red hair streaked with gold, eyes entirely red without whites, each holding a sharp, slit pupil – one black, one gold. The end of the long snake body extending from his torso was the very tail wrapped around me.

His snake lower body, overly long compared to his upper body, shrank smoothly down to a more fitting length. Naturally, I was carried closer, lifted in front of the throne. His true form must have been that unbelievably huge snake from before. A Fear Resistance message flickered in front of my eyes. Sorry, Belare, but I had a feeling I was about to start disliking snakes a little.