“Fairy Dragon is my owned monster!” I shouted quickly so Chatterbox wouldn’t do anything foolish. Gyeol settled on my shoulder and wrapped his neck tightly around me. Fortunately, Chatterbox showed no particular reaction to the suddenly appearing monster. He seemed confident that nothing I did would matter. I summoned the Harmless King’s power to my wrist. “How did you get in here?” The King of Harmlessness bowed his body and looked down at Gyeol. Gyeol’s wings fluttered. “That teleport just now... it didn’t feel like Transcender’s power.” Gyeol looked up at me instead of answering. It bothered me that it might not have been Transcender power, but there was no time to dwell on that. His golden eyes blinked. He seemed worried it might strain me, but he didn’t voice it. He understood it was unavoidable. All the more reason I had to get through this alive. The fairy dragon’s mana enveloped me, sharpening the Mana Sigils that had grown dull. I traced the remnants of the Harmless King’s power that had lodged in my body. The endless mist stretched out before me. Every tiny droplet in the fog was a memory. People’s memories flowed in and connected within it. And those memories— Luga Peya’s voice echoed in my mind. [Our nourishment is memory. We absorb memories to gain power. Do you remember the humans of the world I once subjugated?] Choi Seokwon. The S-Rank Hunter who had contracted with the Harmless King. He had spread fog, devoured people’s memories, and transformed into an SS-Rank monster. He sacrificed half his lifespan to reach SSS-Rank, then fell into my trap and died at the hands of the Doll Knight. At that time, he’d only consumed the memories of a single region, not a whole nation. But now he was connected across the globe. If I devoured all those memories— [I advise you not to be too greedy.] Luga Peya said in a playful tone. [Right now, the memories you can devour are only those that originate from you. If you steal all of them, you won’t survive either~] “What? What does that mean?” [Memory is relative. You remember the clouds drifting across the sky and the sunlight sparkling through them, you remember fish leaping in the river and birds flapping their wings. Most memories are born when someone encounters someone or something. There are almost no memories that are purely ‘you.’] I felt innumerable memories spread throughout the world. They all contained me, yet they weren’t mine. [Therefore, being forgotten can mean the total annihilation of one’s existence. Of course, normally if a few people forget you, it doesn’t directly harm you. But deliberate erasure is different.] A tentacled finger poked my cheek. [If countless people forget you at once, your very existence might be erased from this world.] ...For some reason, I briefly thought of twenty-five-year-old Yuhyun instead of myself. Luga Peya laughed, saying it wasn’t so easy to be forgotten. [With your power, you won’t be able to devour memories beyond those of Han Yujin I showed you~ Just so you know.] [Only the ones you showed me—wait a second.] Devouring that means... Chatterbox said, “Six minutes.” [So you’re saying everyone will forget that I returned by Regression? And that the me from before Regression, too?] [Lower-ranked people—maybe Advanced Awakened—won’t be completely forgotten. Your existence value is much higher than S-Rank, but your stats are too low! So you can’t fully absorb memories of those with higher rank or value. They’ll remember you sporadically, or perfectly.] That was a relief. It would still be a headache if Advanced Hunters remembered me, but better than nothing. [Even if you survive this and escape, I was worried about how you’d sort things out. I can breathe easier now.] [But the emotions remain.] [The feelings born in those who saw you. Even if the memories vanish, some will feel pity for Han Yujin, others inexplicable anger. If someone claims you regressed, they might believe it more easily—or reject it more strongly.] Memory leaves traces even in a fleeting brush. Luga Peya hummed. [Even if you erase memories, you can’t return perfectly to the way things were. You’ve already changed.] No doubt, things would inevitably be different from now on. I heard Chatterbox’s voice. At the same time, memories surged toward me. They all saw the same events, but each received them differently. Some focused on the pre-Regression story, others on the post-Regression events. Though it was my story, I sensed memories where others remembered it more vividly. Some mourned Yuhyun’s death and rejoiced at Yerim’s heroics. Others were enamored with Peace. Many couldn’t believe what they’d seen, treating it as an extension of the party or a staged show. [See, I look like a total villain here.] I saw Han Yujin with a vile expression abusing Han Yuhyun. A laugh escaped me at those idiotic pre-Regression ramblings. Even when shown directly, some would cling to their beliefs. [...Is that really me?] On the other hand, I also saw a fragile Han Yujin who looked like he’d collapse at the slightest tap. So many had changed so drastically it was hard to believe they were the same person. My head throbbed under the endless memories. The Harmless King tapped my shoulder. [You can’t see them all. Do you dissect every grain of rice when you eat?] Of course not. I stop examining the rice in my bowl and swallow. I ceased inspecting memories and accepted them like drinking water. Gyeol squeezed my shoulder tightly. The fog of memories thickened. The King of Harmlessness, Luga Peya’s power, the menacing presence of Chatterbox—all pressed in on me. He was still stronger than I, but I felt it might be possible. From rabbit before a tiger to rabbit before a leopard, at least. Chatterbox’s lips curved into a clear line, staring at me as if eyeing ripe fruit. “What could this be?” He must be sensing it—that the Harmless King’s power was gathering within me. His smile deepened. “You’re talking nonsense from start to finish. There’s nothing of yours here!” Before the final minute ran out, I leapt at Chatterbox. The pale mist spread and wrapped around his legs. I swung my fist at his irritated face. I wish I’d heard a solid thud, but he easily evaded. And at that moment— Dark red strands shot toward him, targeting Chatterbox, not me. “The Harmless King’s staff.” Chatterbox looked at me with satisfaction. Growls of the monsters attacked the strands and were torn to pieces. The staff, now owned by its master, floated into my hand. “You refused. Yet you accepted the fog yourself.” “Idiot, this is my power.” “It is the power of the fog.” “My memories amassed this.” The power Chatterbox had graciously handed over was not his gift. It was the product of memories Han Yujin had painstakingly built. But Chatterbox didn’t even acknowledge it. He merely examined me with pleasure. His composure overflowed. I knew it, too—that Chatterbox still had the advantage. [...Choi Seokwon reached SSS-Rank on that memory—and I should easily surpass L-Rank.] [Your base stats are low. And he submitted to me and sacrificed his lifespan~] His stats. I maintained my focus on Chatterbox without relaxing. He probably still had no intention of killing me. I floated the staff beside me and drew the Descendant’s Blade— As soon as the blade slid out, its flame clashed with the fog. Startled, I sheathed the sword back into my inventory. [The element doesn’t match. Fog is water-aligned. But it’s prickly enough—maybe its personality is nasty?] The Black Dragon didn’t seem kind. I instead drew another A-Rank sword from my inventory. Chatterbox was still unarmed. A Maze Mage might be weak in close combat. But you never know— Chatterbox dropped before me as if from thin air. Teleport? I lunged back to evade but my combat sense warned me. I spun, dropping low. A white-gloved hand emerged where my neck had been, snatched at empty air, then vanished. I rolled forward to create distance and summoned dense fog around me. Through the mist, I glimpsed a tall figure. Teleportation was his specialty. Seong Hyunjae’s combat sense was weak against teleportation. The gap between prediction and movement was too small to counter—at best I barely dodged. [Don’t you know any weakness of Chatterbox?] [That’s not the Chatterbox I knew. He abandoned all that.] As Luga Peya said, the old Chatterbox had disappeared as a sacrifice. Then this one wasn’t a mage? Chatterbox, the party host. “I’ll just adjust his appearance.” Chatterbox waved lightly. A wind rose, slicing through the mist in dozens of razor-sharp blades. I swung my sword to deflect the wind. Even the breeze gouged the earth and split trees. Rocks’ surfaces grated apart, making me frown. As if trying to flay my skin. “I’m not going beyond the Facts!” My skin is pretty flawless, thank you very much! I kicked aside a falling tree trunk strongly. The trunk flew through the air and shattered before Chatterbox. I leapt among the splinters. Dark red strands entangled to bind him, but he vanished in an instant. I landed where he’d been and quickly scanned around. He’d teleported further away, holding a flowing white dress. “I’m curious about the drawer’s interior.” Damn, teleportation is totally broken. And I had no clue how to wield the Harmless King’s power. I’d strengthened my body, but how to apply memories in combat? Should I conjure a Luga Peya illusion? [Why would you use it like that?] Luga Peya pointed at the staff, puzzled. [...It’s a fake, so no teleportation.] If it could teleport like when Luga Peya used it, it’d be useful. [It’s not teleportation. The branches of the Crimson Fog Tree are memories I cultivated. Each branch is a memory—a playback of memory.] What are you talking about? It looked like teleportation, but it wasn’t? Rumble, the ground shook. Alarmed, I leapt into the air and gathered dense fog beneath me. As I sprinted, the ground sank, revealing a circular pit. Vroom, a motor-like sound as a black hole began sucking in earth and fog—my fog! [The branches were always there. It revives past memories!] I pulled out a bomb and threw it into the pit. Boom! The explosion paused the drawn-in fog. I fired the staff’s metallic strands at the pit. Clang, clang clang! A clamor as the circular space cracked until it shattered. Just as I thought I could catch my breath, a chill ran down my neck. Chatterbox had appeared right behind me, reaching for my arm. The fog beneath me vanished, and I dropped down to evade his grasp. [I’ve never taken a disciple, even if I subjugate them~] I rolled across the ground, shouting. Bang, bang! Sharp metallic shards—like surgical scalpels—embedded where I’d stood. [It’s not ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ teleportation; it’s materialization. There was an apple on the table. You ate it, but the memory of the apple on the table remains. You pull forth that memory into reality.] “He seems to favor close combat.” Chatterbox reappeared before me, extending his hand as if inviting a dance. Instead of grasping it, I swung my sword. His palm flipped up and knocked the blade away with a clang. Staggering from the recoil, I saw his other hand reach for me. Gyeol growled and ducked low like kneeling, avoiding the strike. I planted one hand on the ground and kicked at Chatterbox’s leg, but he vanished in an instant. “Memory, manifestation.” Changelings’ ability occurred to me. Gyeol once said his power amplified the Harmless King’s, so the affinity was poor. In other words, it could help me now, too. “Gaining power through people’s gaze is the same for me.” Updates are released by 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹·𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾·𝗇𝖾𝗍 Chatterbox spread his arms. This spectacle was still being broadcast worldwide. A cluster of white lights appeared around him. What was he going to do— I felt a strong impact on my back. Spinning away, I saw Chatterbox’s image. Wait—there! “He’s disgusting in every form!” “One entity appears in countless spaces simultaneously. That’s one feature of the broadcast.” I swung my sword. Thankfully, Chatterbox’s projection shattered and blurred away. It was far weaker than the real one. The problem was I couldn’t sense the copies—only the real body. “What else could there be? A stage transformation?” Plop, the ground I stood on turned into a swamp. Before I could step back, it changed again into a metal floor, trapping my legs. Insane. “As the party host and broadcast owner, my experience is brief, so there are still immature aspects.” He didn’t know his own ability? Clang! I dug into the metal floor with sword and strands of the staff. [When I fought you, my power’s properties put me at a disadvantage. I’d never properly set foot in this world. But you fought here, right?] Revive memories of your own. Luga Peya said. The memories here—Chatterbox’s projections appeared within the swirling fog. A flash of light sparked. It was only an S-Rank current, but each spark replayed a memory. Again and again, as far as my power reached, dozens of times, amplified by the Changeling effect until the layered lights forced Chatterbox to close his eyes. His projections shattered and vanished. I reached for the staff. [Memories exist everywhere. You said the staff’s strands are memory itself, right?] Exactly. Dozens of strands disappeared—and reappeared. Chatterbox teleported— There was memory there, too. His coat was torn. Then— Hundreds of golden chains spread, trapping his teleportation. Bombs—nearly a thousand where there had been dozens—detonated at once.