Chapter 49
EP.49
[Ragnarok]
Before coming to this damned world, the game that Jin clung to until the very last moment, and which he suspects is the true identity of the world he has been drawn into.
The reason it’s a ‘suspicion’ is that Jin has no idea what kind of game [Ragnarok] truly is, what story it holds, how to play it, or what he must do to see its ending.
Indeed, Jin possesses no information about the game [Ragnarok]. In fact, he wasn’t even a gamer who enjoyed that piece of trash to begin with.
To put it metaphorically, he was merely a curious newcomer who had installed the game out of whim, contemplating whether to give it a try.
Nevertheless, the reason Jin suspects he has somehow entered the world of [Ragnarok] is simple.
First, the moment he installed that wretched game and logged in, he lost consciousness, and when he awoke, he found himself in this damned world.
Second, if he were to meet his demise, he would return to the moment he fell into this world, which is strikingly similar to the ‘save point’ mechanism in games.
And third, something called a Status Window is clearly visible to him, though no one else can perceive or notice it.
In fact, the Status Window he possesses is not only a definitive indicator that the world he inhabits is infinitely similar yet simultaneously different from the reality he once knew but also a thing he cannot manipulate or handle recklessly.
Because unless Jin consciously summons it, it won’t show itself before him at all, and the text in the Status Window is completely garbled, rendering it impossible to decipher what is written.
It was only from this iteration onwards that he could finally determine the indicators for his actions thanks to the faintly readable text of the Status Window, while during the past nine regressions, he had learned nothing from it.
This included the knowledge that in ten years, an End that humanity could not resist would arrive.
The fact that there are seven elements of the End predicted to bring destruction to the world.
And that overcoming the End through mere human strength requires a ‘specific factor.’
All this information was something Jin came to learn through his own trials over the past century, with not a shred of it being revealed to him by the Status Window.
Thus, Jin had half given up.
Despite dying nine times, he had only reached the third End so far. Given that, how much longer would it take to confront all the Ends and overcome them?
… But then, the situation changed slightly.
After a century of desperately wishing and praying for a response, the Status Window, which had never answered, showed itself of its own accord.
Moreover, though some parts were garbled, it displayed messages that he could roughly comprehend.
[■A branching event has occurred!]
[■The quest has been initiated.]
[The First ■Dragon has been defeated!]
There was no need to ask Erekaya for help.
Although Jin might not be as brilliant as Erekaya, he wasn’t so foolish as to be unable to decipher such a line.
‘Branching point, main quest, and the first End…’
There was no doubt. At this moment, something that could be termed a historical ‘branching point’ had occurred, and the Status Window was certainly informing Jin of this fact.
Then a question arose.
Why? Why now?
For the past century, despite Jin’s struggles and all sorts of foolish actions, it had mocked him without offering a hint, yet now it was presenting him with such a message window, as if out of kindness?
And unfortunately, the answer pointed out by this series of events could only be one.
‘So this is the “correct answer.”’
Jin knows nothing about [Ragnarok]. He entered this world without any understanding of what kind of game it is, who the characters are, or how it should be played.
Because of this, there were times when he had to risk his life just to obtain the most trivial of information, and without knowing which path was the right choice, he had to face death nine times.
But what if, from the very beginning, Jin had been misled in the wrong direction?
What if it wasn’t a hopeless roguelike game where he randomly met his Ends and had to defeat them, but rather a typical RPG where, by following a set “scenario,” he could acquire clues to overcome the Ends?
And… what if that place where he could obtain those clues, and the main stage of the story, was none other than Nineveh?
He had been mistaken. From the moment over a hundred years ago when that junior, whose name he no longer remembered, recommended this game to him by saying, “The story is interesting,” he should have caught on.
That this damned world was not a roguelike game enjoyed only by hipsters, but was actually a game based on school life, filled with teenagers reveling in their youth.
“…Damn it.”
A sigh escaped him. Of course, this is merely Jin’s speculation, but if this speculation were indeed true, it would mean that for the past century, Jin had been running in circles for nothing.
No, should he not be grateful to finally understand what the right path was?
If Erekaya hadn’t dragged him to Nineveh, and if he hadn’t attempted various things to entice the current Erekaya, he would never have been able to uncover these facts.
In the end, there was only one answer pointed out by all the clues.
In order to obtain the key to solve the current situation, and to overcome the upcoming Ends…
And, to make Erekaya happy by enticing her, as per his original goal.
It seemed that Jin would have to join the Student Council, just as Erekaya had suggested.
In the women’s dormitory, Erekaya’s room.
There, Erekaya sat in front of the mirror, staring blankly at her own face.
Lavender-colored hair, eyes that looked as if they had been cut from precious gems, a beautiful face that bore an impassive yet warm expression.
But at this moment, Erekaya was not looking at her own face in the mirror; she was reminiscing about a certain man.
“…Do we look alike? In some ways, I think we might.”
A man and a woman, with black hair and lavender hair, an average face at best, and one that could be described as the pinnacle of beauty.
No matter how you looked at it, there was no commonality between the two, but Erekaya was intently searching for traces of that man in her own reflection.
In truth, it didn’t matter if there was absolutely no resemblance. After all, the fact that they were family wouldn’t change, even if their outward appearances were different.
“Family…”
Yes. They are family. Despite their differences in gender, looks, and vastly different backgrounds, Jin and Erekaya have a clear, undeniable familial bond.
And that fact is a secret known only to Erekaya in this world.
Jin knows nothing. While he is aware of his roots in the House of Pendragon, it seems he has yet to realize that the blood of Pendragon flows within him.
…In fact, Erekaya had intended to reveal all the truths to him today.
In truth, we are a family. Indeed, we are bound by ties that cannot be severed, connections that cannot be denied.
Although the relationship might seem distant to the point of rendering kinship calculations meaningless, and despite the difficulty in finding commonalities between us, we are undeniably a family—
Yet in the end, Erekaya hesitated to reveal the truth to Jin.
Once again, she became like a coward, sealing her lips at the final moment.
Part of the reason she hesitated to express the truth was the sudden intrusion of Claire Delphin Mascarena into his dormitory, but that was not the whole story.
Even if Claire hadn’t barged into the room, the outcome probably wouldn’t have changed.
Erekaya was frightened.
Frightened that he might hate her. Frightened that he might despise her. And frightened that he might… deny their familial connection with his own words.
He has no family. Or rather, to be more precise, at this very moment, there is no one in the world who shares a familial bond with him.
“At least, not in this world.”
The very words he had casually uttered, as if they were no big secret.
Although he spoke without a care, Erekaya couldn’t even dare to guess how much sadness and loneliness lay behind those words.
Because there is no way someone who claims that nothing is amiss would deny the happiness depicted in his family photo.
“…..”
Jin knows nothing. He has no idea that he actually bears the blood of Pendragon, nor does he realize that he shares a familial relationship with Erekaya.
And… he is also oblivious to the fact that the one responsible for shattering all the happiness he should have enjoyed is none other than the House of Pendragon.
If he were to learn all of this, how would he look at her?
Would he come to hate her? Or would he despise her? Would he consider her repugnant for having tried to deceive him despite knowing all the truths?
Ultimately, Erekaya chose the path of fleeing rather than confronting the truth.
At the most critical moment, she became a coward.
That’s why Erekaya was thinking of drawing Jin into the Student Council.
Currently, Erekaya and Jin are objectively not in any kind of relationship.
They are neither in a mentor-student relationship like Altina and Jin nor are they spending time together like Claire and Jin, building memories.
In the end, the only means available to Erekaya was to cultivate an entirely new relationship with him, different from the ones she has with Altina or Claire, and within that relationship, to monopolize him.
The Student Council was truly the perfect place for such an endeavor.
If Jin were to join the Student Council, he would inevitably have to spend a lot of time with Erekaya, the Student Council President.
If they could converse often, create memories together, and grow to care for each other—
Then someday, he might forgive himself and become a family with her.
“…Jin.”
Gently brushing her fingers over the mirror that reflected only her own image, Erekaya inwardly vowed.
Jin, I will never give up on you. I don’t know when it will happen, but I will become your family.
And I will—
I will definitely make you happy.