Cherreads

The Archived Regressor

Hiroyoki
7
chs / week
The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 7 chs / week.
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Chapter 1 - Beginning

[You have died.]

[Regression Active.]

[Tutorial Restarting…]

[Death Count: 928,772,991]

[Mental Integrity: Nothing.]

I didn't start as some cold-blooded genius.

I wasn't some sword prodigy, or chosen one, or whatever.

I was just a dude.

Some awkward, quiet kid who liked games, read too much manhwa, and kept to himself. I didn't hurt anyone. I barely talked to anyone.

But in the end, that didn't matter.

Because all it took…

Was one girl crying.

One lie.

And suddenly, I was the freak. The predator. The kid they whispered about in the halls. The guy whose name got turned into rumors, then "facts," then an excuse for everyone to look at me like I was a monster.

I got accused of sexual harassment. Rape, even.

Me.

They didn't ask questions.

They just assumed.

Even the teachers looked at me like I was dirt.

I stopped talking.

They took that as guilt.

I tried to fight it.

They made it worse.

Eventually…

I tied a rope in the school bathroom.

Stood up on a plastic chair.

And said goodbye.

But I didn't die.

At least… not in the way I wanted.

Instead, I woke up in a game.

No, seriously. A full-ass fantasy interface. Quests. Status screens. Cultivation. I recognized the system right away, because I'd read about it. Hell, I was part of the beta forums before release.

It was my sister's game.

She made it. A "healing simulator," she said.

Something that would help people face their trauma and grow stronger.

Yeah. Well. Something went wrong.

Because what I got wasn't healing.

What I got was hell.

The tutorial?

It was just my high school.

My classroom. My bathroom. My living nightmare.

And the NPCs?

Yeah. They looked just like the ones who ruined me.

Same faces. Same voices.

But all wrong. Too smooth. Too twisted. Too glitchy.

Their mouths moved like broken dolls.

"Why'd you touch her?"

"Did you think you could hide?"

"Die. Again."

I ran.

I fought.

I screamed.

[You died.]

[Restarting Tutorial.]

---

I died.

Over and over.

First it was once.

Then ten times.

Then a hundred.

A thousand. A million. Ten million. A hundred million.

[928,772,991 deaths.]

No, I'm not kidding.

That's my current death count.

The system keeps track like it's proud.

At first, I begged for it to stop.

Then I cried.

Then I screamed.

Then I started laughing.

Then I stopped feeling anything.

The system tried to teach me "resilience."

What it really taught me was how to break.

Not just break, but shatter.

Like glass under a hydraulic press.

Until there was no "me" left. Just a version of me who knew every sin, every mistake, every way a person can fall apart, because I've lived them. All of them.

I've been the victim.

The monster.

The coward.

The killer.

The betrayed.

The betrayer.

And after all that…

I just stood back up again.

Because what else was I gonna do?

The system thought I'd go crazy.

Nah.

I'd win.

I learned.

I learned how to 67.

I learned every line of code it didn't want me to see.

Every mechanic. Every exploit. Every hidden secret and broken questline.

I remember the stuff even the devs forgot to remove.

Now?

I don't need power.

I don't need friends.

I just need time.

Because this time, I'm walking out of this tutorial.

And I'm taking the game with me.

Patch 0.01 Loaded.

[Save File: "Hiro_Ja_ARCHIVED"

[Emotion Module: Offline]

[Humanity: ???]

[Begin.]