I'm a Young God, so Please Raise Me - Chapter 10

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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 10
He asked again before I could even respond.
“How much do you know?”
And then he asked once more.
“How is it that you know?”
He fired questions in rapid succession, but he didn’t wait for answers.
The wall crumbles.
Like waves of video footage, the collapsing wall generates a new form. It curves around me in a massive, perfect semicircle.
Before I knew it, I had been released from the chair and now stood upon a circular platform.
The hemispherical shell surrounding me on all sides no longer reflects the world—it reflects me. Multiple screens from countless angles display my image.
“As Samra, there should be nothing I do not know.”
Samra circles around me, his footsteps tracing the perimeter of the ring.
“Yet why is it so? Your existence is an unknown.”
His holographic eyes remain fixed upon me.
“And yet you are unmistakably human.”
He tilts his head back. Where Samra’s gaze touches, the screens shift like ripples spreading across water.
Following his gaze, I see countless screens displaying ‘my past’ before me.
Me during my time at the orphanage.
Me during elementary, middle, and high school.
And… me during my days as a professional gamer.
I see myself smiling, tape wrapped around one hand, a championship trophy held in the other.
My mind goes blank.
I cannot comprehend what is happening right now.
If I entered into a game, into the Akasha World, then surely the characters shouldn’t know anything about ‘my’ past, should they?
There’s no way they could know I came from an orphanage or that I was a former professional gamer.
A new truth crashes down upon me.
Could it be that this place where I am now…
Is not South Korea within the game, within the Akasha World, but the world I have actually lived in.
‘The real South Korea?’
My head throbs.
The distance I had vaguely maintained, thinking this to be a game world, collapses in an instant.
Before I can even process the truth, a chime sounds—a system window appears.
◆Han Go-yo Epic Quest: Close 3 Trials within one month.
What… is this.
You have learned a hidden truth.
You have realized that the world you believed to be a game was actually something happening in secret within your reality.
As a system of the planet ‘Earth’, you work to prevent the Trials.
To accomplish this, you believe you must close 3 Trials within one month.
*Trials currently closed (0/3)
(Warning! Failure of this Quest will result in the amputation of your limbs! Success will preserve them.)
I squeezed my eyes shut.
After steadying my breathing, I opened them again, but the system window remained unchanged.
Clear three trials with the true ending within one month.
If the quest fails, limbs will be amputated…?
I couldn’t dismiss it as nonsense—the vivid image of Park Sung-gyeon’s head exploding was still fresh in my memory.
Moreover, limb amputation was absurd enough, yet the reward for success was simply keeping my limbs intact.
As overwhelming facts crashed down upon me all at once, my mind reeled in confusion, and I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity.
‘This is basically no reward at all.’
As I protested the cruelty, an additional system window appeared belatedly.
The final reward Han Go-yo would receive upon completing all epic quests.
So there was something after all.
I waited for the next system window to appear, curious to see how far this would go.
Han Go-yo’s body restored to its most perfect state.
I read the text displayed in the system window.
And then I read it once more.
In that instant, a faint tremor ran through my hands.
I forcibly restrained my gaze from wandering unconsciously and clenched my fists to hide the trembling.
“….”
Samra tilted her head, observing me intently.
I barely managed to collect myself. Then I asked the question that needed answering first.
“…What is today’s date?”
“March 8th.”
“Of the year 20XX?”
“Yes.”
“When did Captain Mo Hae-in enter Haspack?”
“March 7th.”
Samra’s pupils dilated and contracted repeatedly like the aperture of a camera lens.
It was a movement to collect data on my physical responses.
“It is also the day Captain Mo Hae-in discovered Han Go-yo.”
Since this year was a leap year, the day I watched the Creator’s live broadcast was February 29th.
Until March 6th—a seven-day gap had existed.
I had no memory of where I was or what I was doing during that time.
“When did the trials… begin?”
“February 29th, four years ago.”
Around the time I retired from my athletic career and became unemployed.
I started playing the Creator’s game two years ago….
I tried to gather the scattered fragments that seemed to touch yet slip away, but nothing came to mind immediately.
“Han Go-yo.”
Samra, confirming that my condition was not good, changed her demeanor.
The screen panels that had been surrounding me with oppressive pressure all vanished.
Instead, what materialized was a pleasant afternoon outdoor café.
On the empty terrace, two chilled Americanos and a dessert sat waiting.
The restraint suit I’d been wearing had transformed into ordinary everyday clothes.
Samra pulled out a chair and gestured for me to sit, then took the seat across from me.
I stopped my runaway thoughts and gulped down the Americano from the table.
The sensation of cold liquid sliding down my throat felt disturbingly real.
But this wasn’t real—it was fake. The place I was in now was Samra’s virtual space.
Samra had been created based on an android item obtained from the trials of the sci-fi world.
Perhaps because its essence was an item, Samra had gained the ability to generate virtual spaces similar to the trials.
In this space, Samra was like a god—capable of creating and deleting everything.
In any case, thanks to the fake Americano, I’d regained my composure and felt somewhat calmer.
I still couldn’t understand why I’d become the system.
I wasn’t someone grand enough to hold such a lofty position as Earth’s system.
I was closer to an ordinary citizen whose top priority was keeping myself alive.
There had to be countless remarkable people capable of bearing such noble sacrifice, so why had I been chosen?
‘I wish they’d change it even now.’
I waited hopefully for a system window, but nothing appeared.
I swallowed a long sigh. And true to my nature as an ordinary citizen, I set my most pressing priority suited to the current situation.
It was the preservation of my limbs.
‘Completing all the Epic Quests… that’s a distant future, so I’ll think about it later.’
There was no way to know how many quests would be given.
I looked at the android before me.
From the very moment I first mistakenly thought I’d fallen into the Akasha World, I’d determined that I absolutely had to go to Sidaecheong and meet Samra.
If there was a single existence to whom I could bare what had happened to me and ask for cooperation, it was Samra.
Even at this very moment, the android was recording information about me in real time—a big data repository containing everything related to the trials.
Created with the science of a world far more advanced than Earth, Samra had collected information that humans couldn’t even perceive.
The machine that drank coffee like a human smiled slowly.
“It seems you’ll need my assistance.”
The tone suggested Samra already held the advantage.
But I didn’t need ‘assistance’.
“No. That’s not necessary.”
Samra raised an eyebrow in surprise. I made a proposal to Samra.
“I’d like to make a deal instead. Are you interested?”
“I am. What would you offer?”
“Information about the trials.”
“True ending clear data, or items?”
“Neither.”
At first, I’d also deliberated whether to provide such things as information.
It was because what Samra needed most right now was learning data from the trials.
Samra couldn’t enter the trials. Information could only be obtained through the qualified ones.
However, there were far too many cases where those who entered the trials either perished or became infected even if they survived.
Most who cleared the trials cleanly were already well-documented, and the chosen ones saw no reason to venture into uncharted territory within trials whose strategies had become standardized.
This was precisely why Samra couldn’t obtain fresh data to process.
Despite hacking and scraping information from other nations, the fundamental problem remained: there simply wasn’t enough absolute data related to the trials.
Yet I felt uneasy about trading my clear information from this Haspack run.
‘The progression was strange, the items were unusual, and I cleared the ending with a coloring block instead of the standard ending.’
There was also the concern that revealing all my cards might leave me vulnerable to being stripped bare.
Since I had no way of knowing how circumstances would unfold, I needed to keep something in reserve.
So instead, the information I would trade to Samra was this.
“There is someone who understands the trials. In other words, someone who knows all of this.”
The Creator.
Having reached this point, I couldn’t help but grow curious.
What manner of being was he to have created a game about the trials?
And why had he chosen me?
Perhaps he had selected me as a candidate to prevent the trials, and trained me through games via the Archive….
I could roughly infer his intentions in making me into a system, but I could never be certain. It was because of what I saw at the very end.
He had spoken to me with an excited expression, saying something strange.
“From now on, I’ll become a viewer of yours, Gunbam.”
“I’m so excited. I’ve been waiting for so long. So, so, so very long.”
Rather than assigning some grand mission like saving Earth’s system, there was something about it that felt….
Not quite sane, if I’m being honest.
In any case, I would need to track down this Creator, but the problem was that my memory of him was hazy.
I remembered the games he gave me vividly. The conversations we had on broadcast too.
But I couldn’t recall the Creator’s face at all. It was pitch black, as if someone had scribbled over it.
As if it had been deliberately erased.
But if it were Samra, he could track down the Creator based on the information I provided.
“…That is intriguing.”
Samra leaned slightly closer toward me.
“What is it that you want, Han Go-yo?”
“Unconditional cooperation regarding me.”
Along with tracking the Creator, my plan was to secure a safe position within Sidaecheong through Samra.
Samra’s judgment wielded absolute influence within Sidaecheong.
If he vouched for me, I could clear myself of the suspicion of being a national catastrophe.
Of course, if there were other ways to make use of Samra, I intended to eagerly seek his cooperation as well.
“Unconditional, you say….”
Samra, trailing off, pointed with his finger to the Sidaecheong uniform he was wearing.
“I cannot take actions that would harm humanity.”
“I’m aware.”
“Of what?”
“Even without the contract with Sidaecheong, Samra was originally an existence that sought to save the world.”
He had strived to save the world of trials to which he belonged.
Samra’s already dizzying, glittering eyes began to flash intensely.
Just as I was debating whether to ask him to dim the light in his eyes, Samra covered them with his hand.
With his eyes returning to normal, Samra smiled faintly.
“I look forward to the information Han Go-yo will bring me. It would be good if it does not harm humanity. Let us make a deal.”
Well, I’m on humanity’s side too.
After all, I am Earth’s system.
Being treated like a villain stung a little. But since I couldn’t say it aloud, I kept the thought to myself and extended my hand to Samra.
“Then I look forward to working with you.”
As Samra grasped my hand lightly and shook it, his pupils repeatedly dilated and contracted rapidly.
It felt as though he were examining me in magnified detail from various angles.
There shouldn’t be any noteworthy information in a simple handshake.
In any case, I had gained a good collaborator.
It was not a bad beginning.

***
I explained to Samra in detail about the Creator’s existence.
Omitting the fact that I had become a system, I revealed only that I had played games he created over two years and was ultimately forced into Haspack.
I also mentioned the seven-day gap in my memory.
As I spoke, Samra searched global networks in real time, probing for information about the Creator.
“There are some mentions, but nothing of practical value. It would be ideal if we could directly access the Creator’s broadcast.”
But I could remember neither his face nor his name.
Happy Smile Factory, the first game I ever played, was purchased through an online client that sold game software.
Yet that client had no record of Haspack, nor even of my gameplay history.
Samra forcibly booted my computer and remotely checked the files, but everything was clean—not a single data fragment remained of Haspack or any other games I had played.
Without even traces of deletion, as if they had never been installed in the first place.
After completing his search, Samra reached a conclusion.
“The Creator is likely an extraterrestrial entity.”
It was a logical deduction, given that the trials were a calamity from beyond Earth.
“For now, I will investigate further and report back. Why don’t you head out? There are people waiting for you.”
People waiting.
I was already feeling exhausted, but performing well now would smooth the path ahead. I nodded obediently.
Everything around me melted away.
Normally, trials dissolve as space warps into a garish neon-like fluorescent hue, but the virtual space Samra created was different.
It rippled in the same holographic color as Samra himself, dyeing my vision white.
When I closed my eyes against the glare and opened them again, I was back in reality.
Though the welcome was somewhat more violent than I had anticipated.
“…Oh.”
A short exclamation escaped me.
Sniper rifle laser pointers were trained densely upon me.

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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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