Tutorial Rewrite 99

<The Goddess of Want

exclaims that if He hates Her so much,

why did He let Her keep His angel?>

<The God of Cowardice

winces and tries to explain

that the betrothal is permanent,

and the exchange of angels is likewise.>

<The Goddess of Want

refuses to accept any excuses.>

Okay, uh, this is all great, I’m glad you both have, um, reconnected, but I’d like to finish this floor before the next attempt starts, if that’s okay with you both?

<The Goddess of Want

warns

Hell Challenger Lee Ho-Jae

not to meddle in the affairs of Gods.>

<The God of Cowardice

silently remembers why They broke

up in the first place.>

Jeepers. This really is some sort of lover’s spat, isn’t it?

<The Goddess of Want

kindly informs you that

They are not lovers.>

<The God of Cowardice

kindly informs you that

They are not lovers.>

…Right. Sure.

Um, so, aside from that…

I have no idea what to do. I don’t know what being an apostle means or how it’s different from being a herald, I don’t know what’ll happen if I refuse, I don’t know if I can accept both or if I have to choose between either the cat or the dog, so… I just don’t have enough information to make a proper choice. Honestly, though, I kind of just want to… not. Sure, these two gods have almost always been at least somewhat on my side, and they have given me a pair of skills that have saved my life more times than I can count, but at the same time… Why would I ever trust a god?

Not a single god I’ve met so far has been trustworthy. To them, I am almost certainly nothing but a toy, running around in the tutorial for their divine amusement.

But I can’t be sure that refusing them is the proper choice, either.

The only clear positive in this situation is that I’m not getting any prompt to answer them within a specified amount of time, and the messages themselves aren’t going away either, so it would probably be fair to assume that, for once, they’ll give me all the time I need to make up my mind for it. Hypothetically, this means that I could probably put off answering for as long as I want, but they’ll probably declare shenanigans eventually and take my lack of answer as a no.

Hrrm. If I was a cartoon character, this would be the point at which steam started shooting out of my ears. I just don’t know enough.

<[Since the Goddess of Want and

God of Cowardice have finished,]>

<You have cleared the tenth floor.>

<You have received 1 000

points for clearing the floor.

You have received an additional

1 000 points for being the first to clear

the floor.>

<For clearing the stage completely,

you will receive an additional reward.>

<To repay your debt,

the additional reward has been

traded for 5 000 points.>

<12 Gods have shown a positive response to you.

You have obtained 12 000 points.>

<24 Gods have shown a negative response to you.

24 000 points have been deducted.>

<To repay your debt,

the floor clear reward has been

traded for 1 000 points.>

T—twelve gods liked what I did!? Hey, not too shabby! Sure, twice that many disliked it for whatever reason, but twelve is… It’s a good start. With this, it shouldn’t take me any time whatsoever to build up an empire of points, heheh…!

<[As per the promise,]>

<You have received 100 000 points.>

Ohohohoh, now we’re talking! Oh, it’s beautiful. I have never seen so many zeroes outside of games before. I now understand why people willingly enter the rat race.

<To repay your debt,

your inventory has been sold

for 0 points.>

Makes sense, considering that I haven’t put anything in my inventory since the last floor. Still, somehow, I feel mysteriously insulted.

<Current debt:

19 228 points.>

My debt isn’t quite back at zero, but with this, I have a chance. If I can just get the gods on my side, lick their boots a little, then getting back in the green shouldn’t be completely impossible.

<Congratulations!

You have beaten the tenth floor

of the Tutorial on Hell Difficulty.

You are hereby invited to meet

the Hell Difficulty Administrator

to make a request.>

Hm? Request? Oh, yeah, I think I saw someone mention that every tenth floor, you got to meet the difficulty admin and make a wish. So this is that, then? I wonder what kind of creature the admin will be? If it’s a goblin, I don’t think I’ll be able to restrain myself.

Huh. The pop-up isn’t really changing. Do I need to…?

I accept?

<Please stand by.>

A—alright. I’m standing by. Should I put on a better hide…?

After about a minute or so, a new message pops up.

<Thank you for your patience.

The Hell Difficulty Administrator

will see you now.>

Suddenly I’m standing in a massive dark space. I can’t see how big it is, but even though it seems to be completely black, I can still see perfectly. Which might be because of—

Before I even have time to describe the massive pyjamas-clad moon-man sitting in the middle of the room, he grabs a hold of me and presses me close to his chest and gives me a hu

He removes me from his chest, smiling down at me as if that wasn’t the most painful thing I have ever experienced. My body is still trembling. What was that. What was that. Who is this. Where am I.

“Kitty!” the massive being bellows. When I say he’s massive, I mean that he’s literally the size of a skyscraper. The yellow-and-blue pyjamas with a teddy bear print and the fact that his face is like a big crescent moon with a face on it makes the whole being-huge thing feel ten times weirder. He doesn’t look like he should be anything at all, but he is. Lifting me up, he holds me closer to his humongous face. Now I notice that he’s actually got a little bell danging down from the top of his moon face. It jingles with each movement he makes. “Welcome, my friend! I have been waiting on you for so long, and now that you are finally here, I couldn’t be happier.”

His hands are literally squeezing the air out of me, but I recognise the feeling of him talking all too well. “A—are you, like, an, um… god?”

His smile remains, unmoving, chiselled onto his face like a permanent groove. “All in its time, my good friend.” He holds me to his chest bringing me into a hug and it

He removes me again. My breathing is shallow. If I had felt this kind of pain before the tutorial, I would just have died. I would have had a heart attack, and then a seizure, and then another heart attack, and then I would have died. That’s just what would have happened. “P—please, don’t…” I stammer, my throat ragged. “Don’t do that again. I beg of you.”

He looks down at me. “Is that your wish?”

…My wish? Oh, yeah, I need to… I need to make a wish. A wish…

I look at his chest. My brain briefly blanks out at the thought of him hugging me again but I can’t afford to ask him not to. It’s just a hug. It doesn’t kill me. It makes me want to die, but it doesn’t kill me. That’s what matters. It won’t kill me. I need to make a better wish.

“What can I wish for?”

“Hmmmm…” he hums, rubbing at his weirdly pointed chin with one hand. “Just about anything!”

“Anything?”

“Almost anything.”

Almost anything… “Like a million points? Or an insta-kill skill? Or a magic spellbook with every spell in it? Or a piece of super-strong armour? Or a potion that heals any injury with one sip? Or a magical staff? Or a powerful pet dragon?”

“Is that what you want to wish for?”

My jaw snaps shut.

I can’t be stupid about this. I can be stupid about a lot of things, but right now, I can’t afford to make a dumb choice. A pet dragon can be killed. A piece of armour or a magical staff can be broken, a potion will eventually run out, I can’t necessarily learn every spell in a spellbook, I can’t know what the effects of the skill will actually be, and a million points will get used up. But there’s one thing I know that I need, that I really need, that can’t be bought in the store and won’t be found with the other challengers and is pertinent to my future.

<You have been invited to join

the Apostleship Trials.>

<Will you accept?>

<Yes/No>

I look up, drilling my eyes straight into his.

“I wish for information.”