Five months had passed since I started the Protect the Empire's Hell Ironman Challenge.
The day after my 741st game ended in failure, accompanied by a stream of curse words, and I fell asleep as soon as I turned off the broadcast.
"..."
It was well past noon when I finally opened my eyes.
An intense feeling of fatigue pressed down from my head to my shoulders. I ground my teeth as I propped up my upper body.
'I'm exhausted...'
Despite pouring everything into the 'Protect the Empire' challenge for the last five months, the game showed no signs of being cleared.
741 game overs.
Even though I had maintained a solid resolve and continued the game without faltering, the continuous failures were beginning to take their toll.
'Should I just give up?'
The thought crossed my mind.
Honestly, I've done enough, haven't I?
Even my viewers told me to take a break if it was too hard.
I could donate the amount raised from donations to a childhood cancer foundation, fulfilling the original intention.
What matters is the effort. Who would blame me?
After all, no one has ever beaten it before.
Let's compromise.
Yeah, just give up here and switch to another game-
Vrrrr. Vrrrr.
Just then, a vibrating sound came from the bedside.
Startled, I sat up quickly and grabbed my phone. The caller's name was displayed on the screen.
"...!"
A bad feeling raced down my spine. I quickly answered the call.
"Hello?"
***
"Thank you for visiting my child so often and for your support."
In the café on the first floor of the hospital.
Having rushed over after receiving the call, the kid's mother deeply bowed to me.
After a brief silence.
She hesitated for a long time before slowly opening her mouth.
"I've decided to let go of my child in a month."
"..."
"His body is too weak... They say there's almost no chance of him coming out of the coma."
The doctors recommended it.
His vital signs were too weak, and prolonging this wait was becoming impractical. They said it was time to make a decision.
"I'm exhausted, and so is my husband, but most of all... it seems like our child is the most tired."
She managed a faint smile. Her eyes were dry from crying.
"We want to let him go peacefully while he's asleep."
"..."
"I'm really sorry, Mr. RetroAddict. You've been so supportive..."
I bit my lower lip hard. My fists clenched tightly on my knees.
"...You said a month, right?"
"Yes."
"For this remaining month, I won't give up."
"Excuse me...?"
"I'll support him in the way I can. So, please."
I mustered all my courage and blurted out.
"So... please don't give up either."
"..."
"I still believe he's fighting. So..."
Even though it sounded irresponsible.
"...Let's not give up. Both of us."
After saying this as if to convince myself more than her, I left the café almost like I was running away.
As soon as I got home, I started the broadcast. Viewers poured in en masse.
- RetroAddict~
- Did RetroAddict rage quit yesterday lol
- Coming on early after that hardcore session yesterday
- Please play a different game, please, I'd rather watch you strip
- Give up... there are no other games here...
- Gonna play 'Protect the Empire' again?
- Ahh!!! No more!!!
My viewers were also getting tired.
There were not a few who suggested quitting the challenge and playing another game.
My viewership had dropped to less than half due to the long and harsh difficulty of the game.
But I don't care.
"One last time."
I launched 'Protect the Empire.'
"Going all in for the final game."
- Last time for real? Last time for real? Last time for real? Last time for real?
- Last Time×106, let's go~
- This guy's determination is crazy lol I'm out, see ya
- Are you still watching this?? Still watching?? Still??
- RetroAddict's perseverance is insane lol
- What's crazy is how fast viewers are leaving haha
- Stop, RetroAddict!!! What lies ahead is hell!!!
Ignoring the uproarious chat window, I pushed it aside.
I took a deep breath, then, with wide-open eyes, I grasped the mouse.
This game is terrible. The Hell Ironman Mode is even worse.
But the pain I'm feeling now, compared to the suffering of that kid who's been tormented by illness his whole life in a hospital bed, how trivial is it?
'I know well that playing this game has no connection to that child waking up.'
But still.
I am a broadcaster. And that child is a viewer.
Because this has been our way of communicating all this time.
'I hope my support reaches you.'
Staring at the tutorial stage that was unfolding, I repeated to myself.
I don't wish for you to miraculously recover from all your illnesses and wake up as if by a lie.
I hope you win this desperate battle of a lifetime with your will, not anyone else's.
However.
'Just as I had someone supporting me, I want you to know that you have someone supporting you too.'
Just as your support gave me strength to move forward.
I hope my modest support, in some small way, gives you strength in your fight.
That is my humble wish.
My wish is just that.
***
"..."
In the ruins, Salome opened her eyes.
It seemed she had revisited part of Ash's memories she had read a few days ago in her dreams.
"...Ha."
A scoff escaped her lips in disbelief. Salome pressed her hands firmly over her eyes.
How foolish - how utterly foolish is this wish.
So small, insignificant, and even childish.
'To make a wish for a kid who's practically a stranger, just because he once cheered him on...'
The motive is absurd, and the content is ludicrous.
'What? You want to send words of encouragement too? Is that really your wish? Is that really all?'
Aren't wishes supposed to be bigger, grander, more greedy?
At the very least, something like granting the kid an indestructible body or bestowing upon him the blessing of immunity to all diseases. That scale of a wish.
Just support?
Merely wishing for the kid to stand up on his own? Just cheering and that's it?
'To risk your life in another world for such a trivial wish...?'
It's incomprehensible.
The risk he's taking is outrageously disproportionate to the triviality of his wish. The cost-benefit analysis just doesn't add up.
'Isn't he a complete idiot?'
So she thought she should stop him. It seemed too much of a loss for Ash, especially considering the 'secret' she discovered about his soul.
- That wish of yours. Is it really, 'your' wish?
That's why she provoked Ash.
To make him ask himself who he really is, what he truly wants.
To quickly abandon such a petty wish and find something else.
To pursue a purpose more for himself.
"..."
But why?
Having been immersed in his memories just a while ago, skimming the surface of his emotions, Salome felt like she was about to cry.
His genuine sincerity.
The movement of those emotions, incomprehensible through logic and reason.
A true taste of the heart that she could never possess - it pained her.
"Why..."
Because the sensations of a succubus are fleeting, they cannot understand human emotions.
So, they vicariously experience human emotions through others' dreams, inferring forms of joy and sorrow.
Craving emotions more than anyone else, and absorbing others' dreams and vital energy for that purpose, yet only ever skimming the surface without truly reaching their essence – such is the nature of a succubus. That is Salome.
"Why does it hurt?"
Salome clutched at her chest.
For the first time since her birth, she felt a pain inside.
Despite living for hundreds of years and perfectly imitating and understanding human nature on the surface, the heart of the succubus queen was fundamentally empty.
Somewhere in that void throbbed.
Why?
"..."
Salome, lips tightly pressed, lifted her hands and slapped her cheeks twice.
Thud. Thud-thud.
The sound of rain beating against the ground was heard. Salome poked her head out into the ruins.
Black rain was pouring down.
It was time for the flood.
***
"We can set off in just a few more hours!"
Sword Demon and Spear Demon, having brought a small boat, nodded as they placed it in front of the sewer.
A channel had formed in front of the sewer, filled with black rainwater. It seemed that a little more rain would gather enough water to float the boat.
"This path isn't going to be smooth sailing either! Be prepared! There are monsters, foul smells, and above all, you'll have to fight the darkness!"
I nodded in response.
I was prepared for everything. Would it be any different on land?
The surface route also has monsters, foul smells, and requires fighting against darkness. If it's going to be hard anyway, it's better to take this route, which takes less time.
Looking around, the rest of the temporary party members also appeared one by one.
Mason, unsteady as if unwell, sat down below the ruins, and Salome had also appeared and stood beside him.
"..."
Salome, with a sour expression, glanced at me and then quickly turned her head away.
I blinked in confusion. What? When did she start avoiding me? Why is she acting like that?
"Are you leaving?"
That's when I heard a voice.
Turning around, it was the kid... well, the 'older brother' from earlier. The one from the village, with whom I shared fruit and stories.
His blurry eyes through disheveled hair looked at me. I smiled back at him.
"Yeah. I'll come again next time. I'll bring more fruit."
The kid brother smirked.
"Everyone who falls into this village says that. And then no one ever comes back."
"..."
"Why would anyone want to come back to this awful, trashy village? Don't bother."
With a wave of his hand, the kid brother walked away towards the village.
"Live happily in a world where the sun shines."
"..."
"The fruit was delicious. Goodbye."
The kid brother disappeared into the rain.
I felt conflicted. I sighed deeply and looked up at the pouring rain.
Just a bit more rain, and we'll be able to leave.
Soon, I'll return to Crossroad...
"...?"
That's when I saw it.
Among the pouring rain, slithering down the cliff... was something grotesque.
It looked like writhing mist or a swarm of insects...
"What's that?"
Almost simultaneously as I muttered to myself,
Thud-thud! Thud-thud-thud!
Suddenly, 'it' cascaded down like a heavy shower.
A dreadful stench and a chilling malevolence spread in all directions. I stepped back, fighting nausea.
Could it be...?!
"Ash..."
A voice echoed.
It sounded like thousands of crows flapping their wings, or like millions of insects gnashing their pincers.
"I will... rot you..."
Within the indistinct form, a clear hostility emerged.
"Everything...! This world, along with you, everything...!"
The master of the plague.
The Black Plague.
The wound-opener, the tangible agony, the screaming pus -
The Nightmare Legion's fourth-ranked commander, Raven - screamed as if his soul was tearing apart.
"I will burn and melt everything!"
Immediately after, a deluge of plague poured down from above my head.