Ex-level Player With the Greatest Civilization of All Time - Chapter 50

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 50

New York, Brooklyn.
One block away from the bustling commercial district, there’s an alley where foot traffic vanishes.
At the end of that alley stands a Basement Pub with no signboard.
Tonight, the entire place had been rented out.
Inside the pub were four men.
The lights were dim, and the music was off.
Poker Chips rolled across the table with no particular pattern.
These men were Hunters who had operated in the 20th-floor range.
Beings who made their living hunting Players.
Yet here they were now, confined to this basement and playing poker as if dead to the world, venturing nowhere.
“I’m going mad. This is suffocating.”
One man pushed in chips without even looking at his cards.
“Damn it. I’m too annoyed to play. The cards won’t cooperate.”
Another lit a cigarette and ground it into the ashtray with visible irritation.
Hunter Clark muttered in disgust.
“How much longer are we going to do this?”
They were on the run.
From whom, you might ask….
Even they didn’t know.
But one thing was certain.
A few days ago, in Grace, the 20th-floor Neutral Zone,
Hunters had begun disappearing one by one.
At first, they didn’t think much of it.
That’s just how this world works.
There were plenty of grudges to settle, plenty of blood to spill.
People getting cut down and killed were common enough.
Even those from the same Guild—when someone suddenly stopped showing up, everyone thought the same thing.
Ah, he must’ve caught a blade somewhere and died.
But around ten days in, the frequency of disappearances accelerated.
Now it had reached the point where the entire Guild was collapsing.
Someone… was hunting them.
For predators who had always hunted others, this sensation was alien.
A chilling, unpleasant feeling crawling up the spine.
The poker wasn’t really about the game—it was mostly an attempt to shake off that dread, though none of them admitted it.
There was also a reason they’d holed up here instead of Grace.
After the survivors pooled their thoughts, they’d concluded this was the best solution.
In reality, a Player’s power was limited to roughly ten percent.
On the surface, this resembled the Regression Penalty of the Tower’s Neutral Zones, but in truth they were entirely different.
Unlike the Regression Penalty, which applied only to Players who had climbed back down, the ability reduction in reality was fair to all.
Meaning a 50th-floor Player…
And a 20th-floor Player…
Both suffered the same penalty in reality.
And so they’d reached a conclusion.
Lure the thing hunting them here.
Hire a 50th-floor Player to take care of it.
A brilliant strategy.
But there was a problem.
“Don’t get me wrong,”
one man complained while lighting a cigarette.
“It’s the money.”
The employment of the 50th-floor Player had dragged on longer than expected.
“At this rate, we’ll have to sell off our equipment next.”
Already four days had passed.
The Hunter they’d meant to lure had yet to show his face.
It was possible his network of information didn’t reach into reality.
But it was hard to judge hastily in such a situation.
That’s what frustrates the Hunters — they’re just burning through salaries and wasting time.
“Feels like I’m throwing money at nothing.”
No matter how unscrupulously wealth is accumulated, no one finds dwindling assets trivial.
So people grow irritable without reason.
“Tsk… garbage hand. I’m folding this round.”
The man who’d just drawn his cards threw his hand down.
But Clark’s hand this time was good.
A solid win would go some way toward covering expenses.
‘Are the other two nervous?’
He checked his cards again.
Three, four, five, seven, Jack.
A straight was worth chasing.
When he drew another, an eight came.
If a six fell, it’d be complete….
It wasn’t easy to keep his expression neutral.
One more card.
An Ace.
An Ace-high straight, or possibly a seven straight.
The man hesitated for a moment before discarding the seven—a card he’d already betrayed twice.
“Ah… close one. Hehe… if it were me, I’d have ditched the Spade.”
The voice of a young, somewhat guileless boy.
The man reflexively turned his head and flinched in surprise.
The boy startled just as visibly.
“Wh—why?”
How long had he been there?
A boy in military fatigues was standing in the doorway.
Tousled hair, height around one hundred sixty centimeters.
A boy whose eyes were different colors spoke with a tremor in his voice.
“I’m… I’m sorry! Did I startle you?”
His manner was anxious and uncertain.
Clark had been briefly unnerved by the boy’s sudden appearance,
but his demeanor actually put him at ease.
Death itself wouldn’t show up looking like this.
Some kid who’d wandered in by mistake, probably.
This is why I keep saying to lock the doors properly.
“How’d you get in here?”
“Oh, right.”
The boy responded as if remembering something, and drew a Military Knife from his pocket.
“I came to clean. Will you die for me?”
With the blood-stained blade, the air itself seemed to freeze.
“Wh—where’d he go?!”
“He said he was going to the restroom, so… I’ll bring him back!”
Even knowing there was hope gave them no comfort at all.
One man bolted toward the restroom and yanked open the door.
“He’s gotten away. You need to—”
Thud. Thump-thump.
A bald man’s head rolled across the floor.
The head of the fifty-level Hunter they’d paid so dearly to hire.
There was no need to ask who’d done it.
“Damn!”
One man made for the exit to escape upstairs.
But… it didn’t work.
Hunter’s Mark.
A skill they’d used often themselves.
Their thoughts aligned—realizing the exit was blocked, they all reacted the same way.
“Insane…!”
“When the hell—?!”
The boy stepped forward decisively.
The men retreated by that same distance and spoke.
“Who are you? How much do you want? I’ll pay!”
“Even by our standards, we’ve got a decent stash. Money we wouldn’t have needed to touch anyway.”
“Right, so if you take care of the bastard who ordered our deaths….”
That was when it happened.
The boy’s expression shifted.
Whish—
The man’s head dropped to the floor.
“Oh… I’m sorry! But when you said to kill that person, I just… couldn’t help myself? Or maybe it’s fine since I was going to kill you anyway…?”
The men rushed at the boy muttering to himself, resigned to their fate.
Clark, who tried to draw his Military Knife in response, died first.
Cut into five pieces, his body fell still.
The man who drew his gun had both his arm and weapon severed at once, but his throat was slashed before he could even scream, and he died.
The last man managed to cast magic and strike in the confusion, but….
Boom—
Unfortunately, the boy was already gone from that spot.
“Cough…!”
Looking down at his chest, he saw the tip of a Military Knife protruding from his back.
Thump.
“Phew… Is it over? That was really terrifying….”
The time it took to clean up the three bodies was barely three seconds.
Pluto poured oil over the corpses and set them aflame.
He was about to slip away quietly using Stealth when he checked the top card of the deck on the table.
Heart seven.
“Figured discarding the spade was the right call…. Hehe.”
Everything had been handled swiftly—no witnesses.
He was waiting for contact at a distance from the scene.
A signal came through the Device he’d been issued before leaving the house.
“It’s here…! I’ll have to grab some pudding when I get back home.”

[Next Target: Ceron Rice / Location attached… / I’m sorry, Pluto. I’m going to need you to handle a bit more work.]

“Ugh….”
Pluto’s face fell with disappointment.
But this message came from the administrator.
In other words, from Neia.
Her orders, backed by the Successor’s strong favor, were absolute in a sense.
He wasn’t thrilled about the sudden additional task, but there was nothing to be done.
“A Level 30 Hunter caught in the intelligence network, then….”
A potential threat.
So the idea was to clean it up beforehand.
Pluto had only known the Successor for a short time, but he’d come to like him immensely.
The man had even bought him loads of pudding, even though Pluto was timid and exasperating.
He felt quiet joy knowing he was useful to him, and headed toward the next location.
It looked like things would be busy for a while.

* * *

Before heading to Daejeon where the main house was, I stopped by the Department Store.
I needed to pick up some gifts.
“Father’s set with this one.”
For my father, whose hobby is fishing, a Fishing Rod.
Mother should be fine with a Bag.
As for Si-woo….
“Maybe a Glove?”
I picked up the shopping bag filled with gifts for my family and headed toward the register.
“Welcome….”
“What, is that you, Successor?”
The two of them started to jump up from their seats, but the moment they saw my face, they deflated and sat back down.
“Your son finally shows his face after ages,
and that’s how you greet him? You’re not even busy.”
“My apologies if we’ve made you feel unwelcome. Our Player.”
I need to correct myself.
This kind of treatment isn’t easy to accept, either.
“By the way, why’d you haul so much stuff here?”
“Well, why don’t you see for yourselves?”
Isn’t that the charm of a gift—discovering its contents without spoiling the mystery?
I handed the shopping bag to them both.
“This is…!”
“My goodness… where did all this come from?”
They both lit up like children examining the contents.
People who’d spent a lifetime looking after others, never once being looked after themselves.
Seeing them this happy warmed something in me.
“And Si-woo? Doesn’t he usually have Saturdays off?”
“This boy—can he really be that indifferent to his older brother? He’s got games almost every Saturday and Sunday.”
Ah, I see.
I hadn’t known that at all.
True enough, Si-woo’s my younger brother, and he’s always been diligent and respectful.
With the age gap between us—me being the eldest—he got most of their attention growing up, which you wouldn’t expect from a younger sibling.
At any rate, if a man like that had free time, he wouldn’t spend it just lounging around the house.
He’d likely be at the shop helping them out.
‘When I was younger, I used to resent that.’
But it’s all ancient history now.
“Speaking of Si-woo, though… I just hope things go well for him, you know?”
From the tone of their voice,
it seemed Si-woo’s baseball career hadn’t exactly been smooth sailing either.
“What do you mean? Is something wrong?”
“Well, the boy asked us recently what we’d think if he quit baseball and got a job in food service.”
“Si-woo said that?”
If a conscientious kid like Si-woo said something like that, he wouldn’t have said it lightly.
Even Father, who understood as much, sounded worried when he answered.
“So what did you tell him?”
“I told him to stop talking nonsense and just play baseball—but now I regret it. I wish I’d told him to do whatever he wanted.”
Si-woo’s skills hadn’t been poor even back in high school.
Being family, it’s hard for me to be objective, honestly.
But if not for the slump caused by an injury during that crucial third year, he wouldn’t have been passed over in the Draft.
It’s been a while, but I heard he got back to his best form in college and had climbed back up a bit.
The professional world is clearly not forgiving.
“Why don’t you deliver this to him yourself?”
Father handed me the shopping bag containing Si-woo’s gift.
“He seems to be in a slump anyway. It’d be good motivation if you gave it to him, and the two of you could share some genuine brotherhood. What do you think?”
Genuine brotherhood between brothers just meant fists, didn’t it…
Still, I didn’t voice that thought and simply nodded.
It was a gift we’d picked out for him anyway.
And Father had put it that way.
It wasn’t much trouble to deliver it in person.
“Will you be heading straight back this time?”
“No, I’m planning to rest here for about two weeks.”
Neia had even emphasized twice that I should take a good long break.
The Successor felt uneasy at the AI’s repeated and emphatic words, so he’d decided to rest before returning.
“Then I’ll be on my way.”

* * *

The oppressive heat of summer.
This was one thing even a Player never got used to.
The moment I stepped outside, the heat was enough to change a person’s temperament.
‘Wait, it’s already over?’
I arrived at the Baseball Stadium where the game was supposed to be held, but unfortunately it was already finished—the stands were empty.
When I called home, they said he hadn’t come back yet, and since he always trained individually late into the evening on game days before heading home…
I headed toward his school.
“I managed to find my way here by asking directions, but I wonder if I’m allowed to go in?”
The campus was quieter than I’d expected.
It was summer break, so students were even more scarce.
The Baseball Club Building sat apart on the outskirts of campus.
I poked my head out cautiously, saw no one around, and slipped inside.
I wandered aimlessly until I heard a dull, rhythmic sound.
It was coming from the Indoor Training Facility.
Through the open door, I glimpsed a familiar face.
Si-woo, drenched in sweat, practicing his swing alone.
Swing.
A moment to catch his breath.
Swing again.
No one had asked him to do this.
No one was watching.
Yet he relentlessly swung the baseball bat at the tire.
That’s when it happened.
“Hey, you’re still at it?”
“I told you—I knew he’d be here.”
Three figures burst through the opposite door, their voices preceding them.
My body moved on instinct, flattening itself against the wall.
Only then did I realize what I’d done.
‘Why am I hiding?’
If I just said I’d come to see my little brother, what could they do to me?
I was about to step out when I heard something I couldn’t simply ignore—and my body went rigid.
“Damn, the bastard’s incredibly diligent. Fucking dedicated.”
…
The situation developing before me felt wrong.
That’s why I couldn’t leave.
I was forced to watch from the shadows.
“Just say what you came for. I need to practice.”
The ringleader of the group spoke, his face flushed with anger.
“What, you think this is funny? I’m telling you to back off, settle down.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play dumb with me. Or are you actually that stupid? If you hit a home run out there, what happens to me? You pinch-hit, you strike out and come back in—that’s how it works. If you really want to chase a professional career, compete on merit. Use this time to train instead. Say what you need to say and get out of here.”
Yu Jin-hyeok, if you’re serious about going pro, prove it with your skills, not this. More practice, less talk. We’re done.
Si-woo’s words struck a nerve—Yu Jin-hyeok’s face twisted into something demonic before smoothing out again.
“Ah, so that’s what you’re like? Yeah, you’re that kind of guy. Hold him.”
The two others grabbed Si-woo.
Yu Jin-hyeok picked up the wooden bat Si-woo had dropped and spoke.
“Why don’t I take Si-woo’s advice and practice my swing technique a little too?”
Yu Jin-hyeok began swinging the bat at Si-woo’s buttocks while the others held him, immobile.
“Don’t move, or you’ll get permanently disabled—no pro career then!”
Thwack-thwack-thwack—
Listening to that steady rhythm, I felt my blood rising, wanted to burst out that instant, but the more it burned the harder I gripped myself. I didn’t move.
I thought that storming out right now might not be the right answer after all.
Instead, I recorded video.
…
After about ten hits, Yu Jin-hyeok stared into Si-woo’s eyes and spoke.
“Do you really think you’re going to get picked in the Draft just because you think you’re hot stuff? It’s all rigged from the start. But then some crazy bastard shows up acting superior. Because of you, when I sign my contract, people might start saying it’s favoritism or whatever. That pisses me off. You’re my teammate—can’t you do even this much for me?”
Yu Jin-hyeok tossed the bat aside carelessly and added a warning.
“Oh, and Si-woo—was it your back? That injury from high school? Let’s keep this nice and friendly, yeah? Man, the smell of cheap instant noodles.”
After Yu Jin-hyeok left, I watched Si-woo standing there, tears streaming down his face.
I left the building and sent a message to Baek Jin-sung.
A message with my phone number on it.
Shortly after, my phone rang.
“Hello, Jin-sung? I have a favor to ask you.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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