Game Director from Hell - Chapter 76: War Saga (1)

E3 has come to a complete end.

Considering the preparation period, it was a bit disappointing, but upon reviewing the results, it was a satisfying conclusion.

The return journey for Team Rewind took place the day after the event ended. There was a funny incident with Russo, who accompanied me all the way to the airport, grabbing my arm and refused to let go, looking back at it now, it turned into an amusing memory.

“Think about it again! I’m always open! Remember that!”

“Director! Please stop it already…”

Ayado’s troubled expression was quite memorable.

Anyway, let’s leave the past behind.

It’s enough to enjoy the lingering feeling of the festival for a day.

Now, it’s time to move forward energetically, but not immediately into work.

I took a few days off to relax and adjust to the time difference.

There was also something else to handle.

It was none other than a promise with Jo Ayoon.

“Now, let’s eat.”

“Yes!”

In a corner table of a barbecue restaurant, as the sizzling sound of pork belly being grilled filled the air, Jo Ayoon quickly lifted a bottle of soju.

Her wrist, holding the bottle cap, moved gracefully.

Then, a momentary pause, and a whirlwind surged inside the bottle.

I spoke to Jo Ayoon, who looked proud.

“Where did you learn those flashy moves?”

“Well, my seniors all drink like this! Maybe not the boss, though…”

“?”

What does that mean?

I didn’t have a chance to ask.

Either she was quick-witted or genuinely unaware of my intentions, Jo Ayoon poured a drink into my glass.

“Here you go!”

Her cheerful face resembled someone who just entered an amusement park.

Well, in my previous life, I was a guy who couldn’t live without alcohol, so the dry spell must have been quite tough.

Thinking about my previous life, I suddenly felt worried.

“Can she get married in this life?”

The worry that came to mind was based on the knowledge of her age at that time.

Jo Ayoon must have been in her mid-thirties.

There were times when she sang marriage songs, and back then, she hadn’t been able to get married.

I even asked if she planned to live single, and her response was just that.

“I need a good man!”

“Are you going to care about that at your age?”

“Team leader, do you want to have a showdown?”

“…!”

Now, I was the only one who knew that memory.

Suddenly, the Jo Ayoon from that day and the current Jo Ayun overlapped.

Except for the hair colour, she looked exactly the same.

Looking at it this way, Jo Ayoon really had a face that didn’t age.

“Boss, cheers!”

Her voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

I raised my glass to Jo Ayoon’s glass, and…

Clink!

With a refreshing sound, the drinking battle began.

The ending was as expected.

“Boss, what’s wrong with you…”

“I’ll carry you home. Where do you live?”

“Boss’s house…”

“Your place is closer.”

“Ugh…”

Jo Ayoon, who failed to intoxicate me, seemed to be self-destructing.

Her pronunciation was twisted, and her body was swaying. If she kept this up, she might fall and get a bruise on her knee.

In the midst of this, I realized that the habit of looking for my house first when drunk, which she had in her previous life, was still intact in this life.

Having lifted Jo Ayoon up in that manner, I visited the her house several times, and after a long while, I met her mother.

Smack!

“Oh, you little rascal! What’s so special that you’re drinking like this in front of the boss?”

“Uhh…”

Mother’s backhand smash was a masterpiece that couldn’t be described with words alone.

Suddenly, I wondered how many smashes it took to reach this level of mastery.

In response, Jo Ayoon launched a counterattack that only someone in their early twenties could muster.

“Ugh…”

A flood, or a precursor to a reflux.

Mother’s face began to turn pale.

“Oh, oh? It’s not allowed here! No, nooo!!!”

Squelch―

Ignoring the screams, I closed the front door and walked away.

I erased the recent events from my mind.

“It’s getting hot.”

It was summer.

***

After E3, the company had a four-day break. It was a decision that applied to all employees, a combination of cooling off and rewarding those who had crossed a major milestone. It proved to be quite effective, as the employees’ spirits were visibly lifted, and even the greetings sounded lively.

“Hello!”

Indeed, the best employee welfare seemed to be a break. Despite the apologies for not consistently prioritizing rest separate from efforts, the atmosphere was vibrant.

It was during such a time that I encountered Han Seorim.

“Long time no see. Did you have a good holiday?”

Unlike other employees, her complexion seemed quite clear. I thought someone with her personality would be eager to work, but apparently, that wasn’t the case. I nodded in response.

“More or less. Looks like you had a good break too.”

“I came back with a calm mind.”

Han Seorim smiled soullessly, gazing at a distant mountain. Indeed, has she managed to erase the scars of the cosplay incident? I didn’t ask what she had done; I was just relieved that she seemed to have controlled herself well.

After a brief exchange of greetings, I returned to my seat, only to be greeted by the planning team.

“Welcome!”

“Good morning.”

Now there were six members in the planning team. It was clear that it was time to start working again.

“Shall we begin?”

As I turned on the computer, I reviewed the progress of the work. “I finished up to Chapter 2 during the demo phase. Chapter 3 only needs major debugging, and Chapters 4 and 5 are waiting for the modelling to be completed.”

Click.

I opened the document that outlined the initial draft I had written during a moment of regression, specifically focusing on the part related to Hellic 3.

The monitor displayed dense text and a few illustrations that represented the best of my abilities at the time. I read it carefully.

Tap, tap.

I tapped the mouse with my index finger.

“Well, I’ve written it, for now.”

The ending already existed in my mind. Having seen it in reality and having a relatively clean method of incorporating it into the game, all that remained was to complete the document.

At this point, it was time for a reassessment.

The final chapter was where the game’s narrative concluded. It held the most significant share in the player’s overall experience and played a crucial role in determining the game’s completeness.

Naturally, it required meticulous attention.

I presented a clear destination, but I also needed to lay intricate subplots along the way.

I took a deep breath, buried my back into the chair, and closed my eyes.

As I had done several times before, I asked myself a question.

“How should I shape the ending?”

***

Through the Swamp of Despair, past the Gate of Temptation, beyond the Maze of Delusion, the Plateau of Repentance, and on to the Citadel of Ambition and the Abyss of Emptiness.

After enduring six trials, the four pilgrims finally arrived at the last door.

Their appearance had changed since the beginning.

To put it mildly, it was now impossible to recognize their initial selves on the battlefield.

Naturally, it was expected.

Hell was too vast for the fragile human body to traverse. Moreover, the horror here was beyond description, reaching a level of perpetual torment.

To move forward, they had eventually come to acknowledge one fact: “The body is just a consumable item” in the battles that used their bodies like expendable goods.

I recalled the original names of their bodies.

“Caesar, Genghis Khan, Richard, MacArthur.”

They were once Spartan, Barbarian, Paladin, and Soldier respectively.

My gaze particularly fixated on the soldier among them.

It couldn’t be helped.

There was something indicated by that physique.

“Hell truly messes with the flow of time.”

If my memory served me right, MacArthur was someone who died in the 1960s. However, the paladin perished in the 1100s. How did MacArthur, who died later, arrive here before the paladin, existing as a corpse?

The only answer was the “twisted flow of time” entangling everything.

“How long has it been since I fell here?”

Thinking about it, the answer eluded me. In this place, where I neither ate nor slept, where there was no distinction between day and night, and time itself was absent, remembering the duration became impossible.

“…”

Unlike the present regression, at that time, the realization was distant, so much so that there was a moment of fear.

Anyway, putting aside reflections, here they were.

The last gateway, like any other entrance to a temple, was a massive gate that dwarfed them.

The four people kindled a fire in front of it.

Sometime, before entering a new place, they had been performing this ritual almost unconsciously.

The soldier sitting on the ground spoke.

“It’s probably the end. If the information from the Plateau is not false.”

The information was obtained at the entrance to the fourth gate.

It was from the records left by someone who had passed through that rock in the Plateau of Repentance.

The Barbarian snorted. “Even if it’s not the end, it doesn’t matter. We’ll go all the way.”

He remained as aggressive as ever.

The Paladin chuckled, tongue clicking.

The Spartan adjusted the fire, a moment of leisure.

Perhaps the last leisure, the one that might become the end.

“It’s indescribable.”

The words came from the Spartan.

“In the end, we came this far. Now we can finally know why we had to fall here.”

“Not just us. Regardless of the era, every soldier is here simply because they participated in a war. I don’t want to admit it. If the duty to defend the homeland becomes a sin, it’s too dreadful.”

“All of us feel the same.”

In their conversation, there was an undeniable shadow.

It could be understood.

Hell didn’t care about their duties. It only relentlessly prodded their actions.

So they thought, mulling over it.

That this hell was not a conversational entity.

A gloomy atmosphere hung heavy.

The paladin opened his mouth at that moment.

“Why is everyone looking so down?”

As if determined to change the atmosphere, he cleared his throat with a smirk.

“Don’t worry. Even in this situation, my body has fought in the name of God. I am a clergyman, you know.”

“The holy war is nonsense.”

“Oh! Listen without interrupting! I’m trying to talk about my theological interpretation.”

This wasn’t the first time.

The Paladin had not lost faith even coming this far, attempting to interpret the trials he faced based on that faith several times.

The three people generally ignored his words.

Especially the barbarian, who went as far as to scorn him, saying, “Shut up, go back inside with your woman’s body.”

But today was different.

Perhaps it was the magic of the word “last.”

The three people silently allowed the paladin’s speech.

The Paladin continued in a cheerful tone.

“Originally, hell is where those who committed sins come to receive punishment. And God has declared war as a punishment to us. Focus on that part. Isn’t punishment like that? Depending on the severity of the sin, the penalty varies. And through sincere repentance, the penalty can be reduced.”

“What does that mean?”

“Those who have passed this trial would have reduced their penalties! We have faced all the sins we committed in our lifetime and accepted them to come this far. What does that mean? We are born again as warriors who have overcome God’s trials.”

Whether his words were true or not, it was unknown at that time.

But one thing was certain.

At that moment, the three people were also captivated by the paladin’s words.

I judged it that way.

Because it might be something hopeful, something you want to believe in.

“At the end of hell…”

A soldier muttered.

“It makes sense. Your words solve the questions of ‘why does hell exist’ and ‘what is the standard for dividing sins, and where do the prisoners who have fulfilled their sentences go.’ Perhaps the reason for falling into hell was the need to cleanse the soul to move on to the next life.”

“Not the next life, but heaven! My body has read the Scriptures dozens of times. The Scriptures say that the dead go to the Lord’s bosom, and that is equivalent to reaching heaven, isn’t it?”

“Woman, you’re just a scribbler.”

“Shut up!”

A smile appeared on their lips.

It was an alien landscape to be called hell, and therefore, it was a precious landscape.

I, too, hoped that their trials would end in happiness.

Whether it was rest or another beginning, it didn’t matter.

Although separated by what seemed like a transparent wall, I watched over them with accumulated affection.

“Now, if you’ve rested enough, let’s go again. To see that guy who claims it’s the end of the trial.”

The soldier spoke, loading his gun.

The other three stood up.

They were more hopeful than ever.

Thus, they crossed the stone gate again.

Kugugugung!

“…Ah.”

Hope was shattered.

In the unfolding scene, I once again realized.

The reason hell is hell is because it even snatches away hope and smashes it to the ground.

***

That place did not reveal a different space like any other ordeal.

There was only a chamber of a size that could be just beyond the door.

In that chamber, there was no god facing great knowledge or a warrior who had overcome trials.

What existed was a single splendid throne, and upon it sat a human figure arrogantly with its chin resting on its hand.

The reason I say “figure” is singular.

It had no defined facial features.

On its bare body, there were no reproductive organs indicating gender.

Over its skin, black and white spots moved like waves.

The places without spots revealed veins and muscles beneath the skin, and their colour resembled that of rusted iron.

“Th-that thing is just…”

The stuttering soldier mumbled.

The four of them did not know the identity of that thing.

But I knew.

The moment I faced it, just like usual, Hell told me its name, the process of its formation, and its role.

A heavy and empty laugh escaped.

“…Despicable, truly.”

We all missed something.

Yes, thinking back, it was strange.

The minimum condition to reach this temple from the battlefield was to cast away sanity.

To have the soul not in the body but in the weapon, repeating countless lives and deaths.

That was the same for the vanguard who arrived at this temple first.

“Then where did those people go?”

It couldn’t simply be said that they died because there is no rest in Hell.

“But why were their bodies there?”

There was only one answer.

They, like the four of them, must have considered the weapon as their true selves and continued to move forward, shifting their bodies.

Then, what happened to them in the end?

The answer is that thing.

Splat!

Its arm turned into a weapon.

It created and erased various forms such as a spear, a sword, a bow, a gun, an axe, and more.

“Attack!”

The Spartan shouted with a renewed voice.

But it was too late.

The Guardian’s arm had already become a gun and shot the soldier.

Thunk!

“Aaah!”

A bullet pierced his thigh.

I frowned.

It was an easy story.

At the end of the trial, there was no salvation.

This temple was only built to stop those who tried to escape the hell of war.

In other words, war was a trap created to crush those who became unusually formidable in special situations.

The pilgrims, like the four of them, approached the temple to escape Hell.

Having reached this place, they were swallowed by that figure.

To be precise, they became one with it.

Their weapon, the true self, was absorbed without their will.

“…Capturing variables is the most efficient.”

Only then could Hell be more robustly guarded.

It was an eerie being formed by the accumulated spirits of countless war heroes, a symbol embodying all the history of warfare that humanity had gone through.

Let’s name it War Saga.

The figure was the guardian, a being that had consumed the souls of heroes from history to protect the Hell of War.

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