Episode 1: Regressed After Only Doing the Tutorial

Episode 1: Prologue

“This is the end. Even this… with you.”

I muttered calmly as I looked at the massive being before me.

It’s been 50 years since I fell into the tutorial.

More than half of that time, I spent with this guy.

The Avatar of Baal.

The strongest monster that can be summoned in the tutorial. My final teacher—and my last opponent.

Boom!

Of course, this guy had never responded to anything I said, and it wasn’t like he would suddenly understand and reply just because it was the final day.

Instead, he slammed his fist down with such force it could shatter a mountain.

I dodged it easily, as I had done countless times before.

Then I drove my fist—wrapped in internal energy (Gi or qi) —straight into his head.

Crack!

The moment my fist connected, Baal’s skull shattered like it was being crushed.

He was tenacious, and even without a head, his body tried to move. But I tore his flesh apart with a long drawn strike of internal energy, putting an end to it.

A battle that ended in just two attacks.

This act no longer held any meaning for me.

As I looked at the collapsing corpse, I was once again certain.

‘There’s nothing left for me to gain here.’

I had already learned every skill the tutorial had to offer. I even raised them to their maximum levels of proficiency.

Even Baal’s Avatar, the strongest monster that could be summoned, was no longer a match for me.

In fact, I’d been able to kill it easily for the past five years.

But I kept fighting it.

Because it was the best training material I had.

Until I could perfectly counter every pattern. Until I understood the meaning behind every movement.

I kept mimicking Baal’s fighting style, repeating the battles endlessly just to refine myself.

But now, even that process had become meaningless. I had completely mastered everything about Baal’s Avatar.

I slowly turned around.

“If we’re done, let’s go eat.”

Far in the distance stood Estelle, my assigned angel, arms crossed.

“Coming.”

I exploded the internal energy across my body to blow off the blood that had soaked me. The stench of Baal’s blood faded slightly.

Then, I made my way toward the house I had built myself.

A house made with my own hands after maxing out both the Blacksmith and Magi-Tech Engineering skills. Looking at it now, it felt quite dear to me.

‘This’ll be the last time I see it too.’

I wanted to get sentimental, but Estelle was waiting, so I picked up the pace.

“Pork stir-fry today, huh?”

The spicy aroma hit my nose the moment I sat at the table.

“It’s your favorite. I prepared it for your last day… or do you not want it?”

“Of course not. Thanks. I’ll eat well today too.”

I happily picked up my chopsticks.

Because I probably won’t get to taste this again.

After eating my fill like always, I looked at Estelle and said,

“Thinking about never eating this again makes me really sad… Maybe I should just stay?”

She half-closed her eyes and replied with an expressionless face.

“Must I raise my fists after so long, Player Han Yeomyeong?”

“…I’m sorry.”

I bowed my head immediately.

That was not something to joke about.

She possessed power truly worthy of the title “angel.” Even someone like me, who had surpassed the tutorial’s limits, couldn’t stand a chance against her.

If I really resisted, I’d die.

‘Just remembering that time makes me shiver.’

When I first received advanced martial arts training from her—how many times did I get beaten?

“Player Han Yeomyeong, you learn faster through experience than explanation. If you don’t understand, you’ll get hit.”

Just like she said, I was beaten from morning to night every day, aside from eating and sleeping.

Thankfully (?) angels aren’t allowed to harbor killing intent toward players, and their physical abilities are restricted, so it wasn’t quite like real combat—but still, I thought I was going to die.

Eventually, I moved on to sparring with Baal’s Avatar for real combat training.

“Sigh… Even though you say otherwise, Player Han Yeomyeong, I know better than anyone that you’re someone with a strong desire to improve.”

Estelle smiled as if she could read my expression.

“For the past 50 years, except for a few occasions, you’ve never missed a single day in your struggle to grow.”

I was born with less talent than others.

To catch up to them, I had to put in two or three times the effort.

So while everyone else quickly completed the tutorial and entered the Tower, I endured with the mindset of doing everything possible here.

As a result of all that effort, I now possess strength that is second to none.

“Even though your start was delayed, you’ll grow faster than anyone.”

Estelle looked at me as she spoke.

“You’ve built up this level of strength even before reaching the first floor. As you climb the Tower, you’ll grow even faster. Trust me, who believes in you—don’t be in such a hurry.”

“You know I’m not that kind of person, right?”

“Exactly. Slow but steady. That’s what makes you who you are, Player Han Yeomyeong.”

Estelle smiled gently.

“It’s hard to believe that only ten years have passed outside.”

Time flowed differently in this place compared to the outside world.

I could feel the weight of fifty years pass by.

But outside, it had only been ten years.

I understood it, but I couldn’t accept it.

“Unlike other Tower entrants, Earthlings had never even felt the flow of mana. So this is a natural privilege, and once you enter the Tower, you’ll naturally come to believe it.”

At Estelle’s words, I quietly nodded.

It’s not just Earthlings who enter the Tower.

Martial artists, elves, mages, dwarves… countless races exist there.

To start on equal footing with them, Earthlings were given the opportunity of the tutorial.

But… can that really be considered equal footing?

Even if I’ve trained for fifty years here, even if I’ve earned the qualification to climb the Tower, it’s overflowing with people who’ve spent their entire lives training in worlds where mana already existed.

They were born and raised in environments where using magic, martial arts, and divine power was second nature, and they trained according to ‘systematic methods’ refined over generations.

In contrast, Earthlings didn’t even have such an environment.

Could a few years of training really allow us to stand against them?

I suddenly recalled the time disparity between our races.

“Estelle, how long did you say the average lifespan of other races was?”

“Elves live around 500 years, dwarves about 300. The higher-tier races with the prefix ‘High’ can live up to four times longer than that.”

She answered casually, as if it was nothing special.

But I couldn’t take it lightly.

Beings who had lived for centuries.

They mastered magic and martial arts, refining them over ridiculous lifespans.

“Now that it’s almost time to enter… I’m getting a bit anxious.”

I spoke quietly.

“I’ve only trained for fifty years… can I really defeat them?”

Even though the words came from my own mouth, it was a genuine and realistic concern.

Even when comparing humans alone, martial artists and mages hadn’t learned haphazardly like I did. They grew through systematic training accumulated over hundreds of years.

Was I truly complete enough to overcome all that accumulated time?

Estelle met my gaze directly.

“Just because the same amount of time is given, doesn’t mean everyone builds the same things with it.”

Her voice was firm.

“There are plenty of people who, even after a lifetime of training, have achieved less than what you’ve built in ten years. Because the density of effort is different.”

At that moment, it felt like my mind had cleared.

…Density of effort.

It’s not the amount of time that matters, but what you’ve built within that time—and how deeply.

I had lived fifty years more densely than anyone else.

I endured countless trials and errors, trained like my life depended on it every day, and used every resource the tutorial allowed to grow as efficiently as possible.

And even if that’s still not enough… then I’ll just grow stronger.

A slight smile tugged at my lips.

“Hearing you say that really puts me at ease.”

I trusted Estelle absolutely.

If she said so, then it must be true.

“The gate to the Tower will open soon. Do you have any final words you’d like to say?”

Estelle and I had spent 50 years together.

We’d shared countless conversations during that time.

Now, we didn’t need long speeches — a glance was enough to understand each other.

“Even on the last day, are you still going to call me Player Han Yeomyeong so coldly?”

“Angels must not get emotionally attached to humans. For immortals, emotions ignite slowly… and fade even slower.”

When I pouted slightly, Estelle let out a small laugh.

“Even so, I’ve grown fond of you, Han Yeomyeong.”

Her gaze deepened.

“Over the years, I’ve seen so many sides of you.

Your pathetic side, your foolish side, your stupid side, your persistent side, your never-giving-up side, your reliable side… and perhaps, even your admirable side.”

She let out a soft sigh.

“You’re someone I couldn’t help but grow attached to. That’s who you are, Han Yeomyeong.”

Her heartfelt words, heard for the first time in 50 years — I was about to respond to them when a message suddenly appeared in front of my eyes:

[You are one of the last 10 survivors of Earth.]

[By the will of Earth’s god, regression will now begin.]

[Please, save Earth.]

“…What?”

At that moment—

The world shook.

“Han Yeo—!”

Before Estelle could finish calling my name, a blinding shock overtook me, and my consciousness faded to white.

***

When I opened my eyes, I saw a familiar yet oddly unfamiliar place.

“…My room?”

I stared blankly at my surroundings.

The same messy clothes strewn about, the trash I hadn’t thrown away, the monitor still on.

Even the cup ramen containers scattered on the floor.

Everything was exactly the same as it had been 50 years ago.

Almost by instinct, I picked up my phone.

My fingertips trembled slightly.

I turned on the screen and checked the date.

December 31, 2024.

My birthday.

‘…The day before the tutorial starts?’

My breath caught in my throat.

My mind became a tangled mess.

‘Did I really… come back to the past?’

And then, as I looked in the mirror—

I froze again.

“…I’m young?”

The familiar room, the familiar date… but an unfamiliar face.

It wasn’t the body I had spent 50 years building and training.

It wasn’t just that my Internal Energy had vanished — the real shock was that my physical age had changed.

I began to wonder if everything I’d experienced was just a dream.

“…There’s no way it was all a dream.”

With a trembling hand, I struck the wall using the essence of Heaven-Shattering Technique (Pacheonmu).

Boom! Crack!

The wall split apart.

Even without inner energy or a trained body, the enlightenment I had built over 50 years remained.

With just a single punch, I shattered a concrete wall — something a normal human couldn’t even dream of doing.

“It wasn’t a dream.”

The 50 years I had lived were absolutely real.

“Ugh…!”

Using such force with an untrained, ordinary body sent a fierce backlash through me.

Even though I hadn’t used the strongest technique, the pain was intense.

And that pain told me — this return to the past wasn’t a dream either.

There was only one conclusion left.

“I only finished the tutorial… and then regressed?”

An unbelievable reality was now unfolding before my eyes.

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