HACKED 31

<No Lifer> is a game of, by, and for compatibility.

The reason the sentence from last time is being mentioned again is simple. This applies not only to <UserMyeong808> but also to <IsItPresbyopiaCrap>.

Some Compilers gather Incarnations indiscriminately, regardless of attributes. They consider it a job well done as long as the stats are good, no matter what the Incarnation looks like or what its origin or tendency is.

On the other hand, some users collect only Incarnations with specific attributes. As an easy example, <UserMyeong808> is the type of user who only collects Incarnations with the “Korean Origin” trait. Thanks to that, his Pantheon has become a hybrid of something between a folk tale and a national history textbook.

The type that collects only Incarnations from a specific country or cultural sphere is actually the most mainstream. It is evenly distributed among light users who prefer their own culture out of familiarity, heavy users who have taken a huge gulp of nationalistic pride, and history buffs.

The type that collects only beautiful girl, beautiful boy, or handsome men and women Incarnations is also quite common. Isn’t it a natural human instinct to want to live surrounded by flowers? The interactions feel realistic, the affinity system is well-made, and there are quite a few users who treat <No Lifer> as a quasi-dating sim.

To go a bit deeper into the abyss… there are users who collect only older male Incarnations who look like they’ve been hit hard by the waves of life, citing the strange reason that “broken Misters are delicious.” There is a middle-aged woman love squad whose catchphrase is “I really like older ladies, the more I see them the more I love them,” and users who obsessively collect beast-type Incarnations—a mix of animal and human—to a suspicious degree… and so on.

The reason they stick to such playstyles isn’t just because of taste or concepts. In <No Lifer>, when Incarnations with similar tendencies are organized into the same unit, a buff benefit called a “Formation Bonus” is granted.

For example, the “Damnatio Memoriae Army,” the monsters that <No Lifer> users have to face tiresomely throughout their play. If you check their formation bonus on the battle screen, you can see this message:

Formation Bonus: ‘Damnatio Memoriae’

: There will be no glory in your sacrifice. The world will never know you existed at all!

(There will be no glory in your sacrifice. The world will never know you existed at all!)

Trigger: Activated when all unit members possess the ‘Damnatio Memoriae’ trait. They inherently harbor murderous intent toward all ‘Incarnation’ entities and, unless there are specific skills, bonuses, or status ailments, they enter battle immediately upon encounter.

It’s a simple description. Then, what is the formation bonus of the unit sent by <IsItPresbyopiaCrap> to <UserMyeong808>’s Pantheon?

Formation Bonus: ‘Chivalric Order (Orden de Caballería)’

: Do not draw your sword without reason, and do not sheath your sword without honor.

(No me saques sin razón ni me enbaines sin honor.)

Trigger: Activated when all unit members possess the ‘Knight’ trait.

Since the name itself is Chivalric Order, one might be mistaken at first glance. One might think, “So these are knights who know morality and virtue, ‘Lawful Good’ in D&D terms?”

But you must read the sentence written below it carefully. “Do not draw your sword without reason, and do not sheath your sword without honor.” To interpret it in a way familiar to Koreans… it’s something like, “If you’ve pulled out your sword, at least slice a radish.”

Once they enter battle, they do not voluntarily end the fight until they achieve “military merit.” “Military merit” refers to the death of at least one enemy.

That’s right. The “honor” of these knights wasn’t the type to help the weak and show mercy, but the type to slaughter the enemy and even cut off their heads to take as trophies.

<IsItPresbyopiaCrap> thriftily hand-picked only battle maniacs hungry for killing and sent them. It is a part where one can catch a glimpse of the determination to somehow sweep away <UserMyeong808>’s Pantheon and swallow the territory.

“Is it here?”

“According to the coordinates, this is it.”

Several of <IsItPresbyopiaCrap>’s Incarnations stood at the entrance of the unfamiliar Pantheon.

Their attire varied. There was one armed in full metal armor called full plate, one wearing a flashy uniform-like outfit with a cape, and even one mounted on a horse. If there was a commonality, it was roughly that they all wore swords at their waists.

“An island floating in the air. It’s not very unusual.”

One of them said, shrugging his shoulders.

“We’ve seen most structures while traveling here and there at our Master’s command. This much is ordinary.”

Someone replied to those words. A trivial conversation followed.

“It’s not like flaming meteors are falling from the sky, and there are no typhoons or blizzards raging. There’s really nothing to it.”

“The last one was truly the worst. A Pantheon buried inside a glacier.”

“Finding our way there was the biggest ordeal. Frost got all over this wonderful armor. I was so anxious wondering if even the sword blade would freeze over.”

“But once we got there, it was nothing, right?”

“That’s true. We cut down everyone there and took the Compiler’s head.”

“I really don’t know what the Master is thinking. I wonder how much longer he’s going to do this ‘Pantheon Hunting’.”

The Master <IsItPresbyopiaCrap>’s bad habit… that is, the terrible act of pretending to help newcomers while launching a surprise attack, and even cutting off and keeping the Compiler’s head, was called “Pantheon Hunting” among his Incarnations.

“It’s more fun because of the ‘hand-feel’ compared to cutting those Damnatio Memoriae bastards who are no better than beasts. He’s my Master, but his taste is really…”

“Stop the useless talk. We only do as commanded.”

“Ah, I get it. I get it.”

“That armor guy is starting his nagging again.”

“When have you ever seen us not do our jobs?”

They also knew. That their Master was not a kind person. That he went beyond simply not being kind and was close to being atrocious.

But what could they do? From the moment they gained self-awareness and a physical body and first existed in this world, their Master was <IsItPresbyopiaCrap>. An Incarnation has neither the ability nor the right to choose their Master. If the Master says follow, they have no choice but to follow.

“It seems to be a structure where you move inside from the hyper-dimensional gate through this bridge-like structure.”

“Let’s see. The intruder alert system is…”

The Incarnations looked around. Even though they, as outsiders, approached through the gate, the Pantheon was quiet. No device showed any sign of activating.

“…There isn’t one?”

“There isn’t?”

Everyone was astonished. In all their countless Pantheon hunts, this was the first time they’d seen this.

It is said that when this war first began, there was no concept of dimensional merging. Then, as the war lengthened and the fighting intensified, the “White Book Legion” side devised a tactic of forcing dimensions to collide to directly invade the Compilers’ home bases.

Of course, that’s also quite an old story. Nowadays, even a newly appointed rookie Compiler has at least a basic defense system prepared in their Pantheon.

A Pantheon without an intruder alert system? It was no different from building a fortress without walls and just standing a door alone in an open field.

“Is this some kind of trap?”

One of the Incarnations said with a disgusted expression. It was something completely incomprehensible by his common sense.

“No way.”

“Unless it’s a trap, how can there be nothing? Isn’t he trying to attack us after inducing us to let our guard down by pretending there’s nothing?”

“But the Master said. That the Compiler here is a total novice. That he doesn’t know anything about dimensional collisions or whatever.”

“Even so.”

“I heard that side thinks of our Master almost like a patron saint for beginners. That’s why he probably agreed without much complaint even when told that troops would be sent to his home base.”

“If that’s the case, he’s a really stupid guy.”

“There’s a limit to being ignorant of the world.”

They ridiculed the nameless opponent Compiler. Thinking that while they didn’t know who it was, seeing how the opponent couldn’t even do the basics of basics, their capability as a Compiler was a complete dud.

The knight in full plate took a step forward. Every time he moved, a clanking sound came from the armor that emitted a silver luster.

“Stop the small talk and let’s head in.”

“Yeah. We have to go in. Looking at it, it doesn’t seem like it’ll take long, so let’s finish it quickly and go.”

Armed with the determination to annihilate everyone in this Pantheon and cut off and bring back the Compiler’s head, the Incarnations of <IsItPresbyopiaCrap> took their first bloodthirsty steps.

Whirrrr…

The entrance door, sensing movement from outside, opened automatically. Compared to their resolve, the entry was too easy.

The scenery inside the Pantheon unfolded across their vision.

A pure white, empty hallway. Bare walls. A dusty windowsill. The internal scenery was generally bleak beyond words. Black liquid, which one couldn’t tell was blood or something else, was splashed and dried everywhere, and debris that must have once been part of a mechanical device or structure rolled around. It was a sight that made one doubt if someone else had already been here for a “hunt” before them.

And, most importantly.

“Husband?”

Something that couldn’t possibly be seen as a fellow Incarnation, something closer to an abomination or a monster than a human…

“…It’s not.”

Was rushing toward them with long claws bared.