Regression Is Too Much Chapter 168

Chapter 168

Red letters filled the entire screen.

After a brief moment of thought, I grabbed Choi Ji-won’s phone and headed straight to the nearest convenience store.

“Hello—”

“Excuse me. Can I ask… what do you see on this screen?”

“…Sorry?”

“This screen. What does it look like to you?”

The clerk gave me a confused ‘what the hell is this guy on?’ kind of look, but still answered politely.

“…Looks like an ad for feminine hygiene products. But why are you asking…?”

“Thanks.”

I left the convenience store immediately and returned to my apartment.

Because I’d figured it out—how this message system worked.

“…So this is how they’re using it.”

Why Michael Jeter could post his email address publicly online without hesitation—

It was because of a fundamental rule:

“No matter what you do, information about the Tower cannot be shared with ordinary people.”

He had found a way to exploit that rule.

To the average person, it looked like a regular ad.

The red text—because it related to the Tower—was only visible to Players.

“But wait… wouldn’t that mean all Players could see it? bIf that were the case, there should’ve been some kind of reaction online. And even an email address should be visible to normal people, right?”

“Look closer.”

Ji-won pulled the video up on a computer and zoomed in.

She showed it to me carefully.

And just like she said—

When I looked at the red text closely, I realized something.

Each letter was actually made up of incredibly tiny characters.

Tiny enough that unless you were a Player, you’d never even notice them.

Reading a few of the visible lines:

“An old man appears on the 15th floor.”

“The sky on the 15th floor is dark.”

“There is an old man carving statues on the 15th floor.”

On and on, a series of details about the 15th floor.

With this kind of setup, unless you’d cleared that floor, you wouldn’t be able to read or even recognize the message.

And since the ad was in Korean, it was obviously targeting Players in Korea.

“Do you think anyone besides us has cleared the 15th floor in Korea?”

“If they’re registered with the Association—none. As for the rest… who knows.”

Which meant there were likely no other Players who had reached the 15th floor in Korea.

Or at most, just a few.

That’s why Michael Jeter was able to embed a secret message just for Choi Ji-won, through a YouTube ad.

Gotta admit—smart move.

“Alright, first things first—Ji-won, what was your 15th floor like? Let’s start by getting a clear picture of our situation.”

“I picked the lowest-numbered reward—‘The Old Man’s Wise Advice.’ I’m guessing… You did too?”

“…Yeah. I figured I could get the rest of the rewards anyway, once I regress.”

“Same logic here. But doesn’t the structure of the 15th floor seem off to you?”

We sat down and went over everything we’d seen and felt on the 15th floor.

For the most part, our experiences were identical.

Except for one key difference.

“When I got there,” Ji-won said, “he was carving a dragon statue.”

“…Not a goblin?”

“Yeah. You know, the kind of winged dragons you see in fantasy stories.”

Given that Ji-won returned to the real world just slightly ahead of me, it was clear—she’d entered the 15th floor before I did.

So what did the difference in statue mean?

Was Michael Jeter’s call for help connected to the 15th floor?

Did the old man actually lie to me?

My thoughts were spiraling.

“…By the way—this part.”

Ji-won tapped my shoulder and pointed to the message on the screen.

– This is Michael Jeter, Chairman of the Player Association.

We urgently need the help of a player who cleared the 15th floor.

Please contact the email address below.

Especially you, Choi Ji-won.

We’re waiting.

Please do not inform the Association.

“Why would he add that line? The one about not informing the Association? That’s the part I don’t get.”

“…What do you mean?”

“Michael Jeter is the Chairman of the Association. If he wanted to contact me through proper channels, he could have. Should’ve, even. Don’t you think?”

“…You’re right.”

As the head of the Player Association, he would’ve known that Choi Ji-won had an official connection to the Association.

Reaching out through them would’ve been the normal route.

And yet, he chose to contact her through a hidden message inside an internet ad.

This suggested that whatever was going on… it was happening outside the Association.

A basic deduction—but a critical one.

“But even so… why explicitly write ‘Do not inform the Association’?” Ji-won mused.

Was the person who wrote the message not actually Michael Jeter?

Could this be some elaborate trap—someone pretending to be him?

Or was it his way of saying: “I’m in conflict with the Association right now”?

So many questions.

No clear answers.

Under normal circumstances, now would be the time to begin a deep investigation.

We didn’t fully understand the situation yet—

But one thing was clear:

Something strange was happening.

And whether we realized it or not, we might already be walking on thin ice.

“…Let’s send him an email,” I said.

Of course, investigation is what you’d do—

If you weren’t a regressor.

===

If possible, I’d prefer to speak in person.

You might not be Choi Ji-won, and you might not trust that I’m really Michael Jeter.

Unfortunately, I’m under surveillance by the U.S. government and can’t use flights freely.

Online meetings are risky due to the potential for wiretapping.

Would you be able to come to the U.S.?

===

This was Michael Jeter’s reply.

Honestly, considering his position as the Player Association Chairman, it was almost unthinkable that he could do anything “in secret.”

“…That’s the same for me too, though.”

The real problem?

It applied to Choi Ji-won just as much.

She wore a mask and hat even just to visit the convenience store.

The idea of her secretly flying out of the country was laughable.

So Ji-won responded with a cautious, slightly negative message.

And then—

Michael Jeter’s follow-up stunned us.

===

We have a Player on our side with a long-distance teleportation trait.

If you send us precise coordinates, we’ll open a gate to bring you here.

===

“…This is way too risky.”

I’d experienced countless regressions, and yet this was the first time I’d ever even heard of a “long-distance teleporter.”

Such an ability existed? Seriously?

Was that even possible?

Even if it was real, trusting a portal opened by someone you haven’t verified is a whole different matter.

We still didn’t even know for sure if this man was actually Michael Jeter.

What if I stepped through and it was a trap? Then what?

“I’ll ask him to prove that he’s really Michael Jeter.”

===

- I’m sorry, but I still can’t fully believe that you’re Michael Jeter.

- I sent a photo of my face. Isn’t that enough?

- With how advanced editing tech is these days? Not really.

- In that case, I’ll be giving a live speech in about two hours. Is there a specific word or phrase you’d like me to mention? I can use that to prove my identity.

- Can’t you just talk about the 15th floor? Like in the Korean ad? No one else would even notice.

- If I suddenly blurt something strange during the speech, wouldn’t that raise suspicion?

- Then… say “kimchi.” Mid-speech. Casually.

- Understood.

===

Exactly two hours later, a live broadcast began on the official Player Association channel.

It wasn’t just streaming online—it was being simulcast across global networks.

Everyone, everywhere, was watching.

“Good evening. I’m Michael Jeter, Chairman of the Player Association.”

The screen displayed a Western man with tousled dark hair, deep-set eyes, and thick eyebrows. Broad shoulders. Towering height.

The type you’d instinctively describe as solid—or weighty.

That’s Michael Jeter.

“I stand here today with the heart of a man who represents all Players around the world.”

Wearing a sharp suit, he spoke in a composed, deliberate tone.

His eyes stayed focused on the camera.

His speech was formal, carefully chosen—clearly meant for the public.

“Wasn’t he ex-special forces or something?”

“I think U.S. Marines.”

Even as we whispered between ourselves, Michael Jeter’s speech carried on.

“I want to emphasize how important it is that citizens from every nation support their Players.

Right now, Players lack a compelling reason to climb the Tower.

They lack the motivation… to risk their lives when it matters most.”

He paused briefly, taking a slow, controlled breath.

“What’s at stake is the very survival of Earth.

Of humanity itself.

Of the cultures we hold dear.

Whether or not we’ll continue to enjoy the foods we love—

Pizza. Hamburgers. Pasta. Curry. Kimchi. Sushi.”

A single, fleeting word.

But I heard it.

We both did.

A calm, casual insertion—“kimchi.”

Spoken like it belonged there.

So smooth no one else would’ve noticed.

He did it.

“…So that really is Michael Jeter.”

***

– What was with the kimchi line?

– That came outta nowhere.

***

Online reactions weren’t exactly kind.

Most were along the lines of “Just as expected from the Player Association Chair—no sense of decorum.”

But Ji-won and I?

We just exchanged a quiet glance… and nodded.

Yeah.

That really was Michael Jeter.

“This isn’t merely a matter of Player rights,” he said, closing out the broadcast. “It’s a matter that concerns the survival of all humanity. Thank you.”

Right after his live speech, where he urged global governments to expand Player support, we received a follow-up email.

===

-I hope that was enough to convince you I’m Michael Jeter. Admittedly, I burned a bit of political capital for that strange speech…

-You’ve convinced me. Honestly, I doubted you just because you used email instead of a messaging app.

-Ironically, messaging apps are even riskier. The U.S. government has active data-sharing agreements with most of them. Meanwhile, email is so outdated, no one pays attention to it anymore.

===

“…Still, doesn’t it seem risky for us to go to him?”

“Should we ask… if he can come to us instead?”

===

-I don’t mind coming to Korea. But I’d prefer somewhere discreet—someplace where I won’t draw attention.

===

“…Let’s just invite him to my place.”

“Your apartment?”

“Yeah. It’s spacious.”

We sent him the address and agreed on a time.

By the next afternoon, Ji-won and I were seated at her dining table, waiting.

The scheduled time had arrived.

If a “long-distance teleportation ability” really existed, then Michael Jeter was about to appear.

Whummm…!

Right on cue, space distorted—and then, a massive figure emerged.

A towering white man, easily two meters tall.

Even just standing there, his presence was overwhelming.

He was strong.

I couldn’t say for sure how he compared to me… but this man was no joke.

“…”

We stared at each other, silently assessing one another.

Then—

“Good afternoon. I’m Michael Jeter. It’s an honor, Ms. Choi Ji-won.”

He greeted us simply and smoothly, taking a seat at the table as if this were just a casual meeting.

After nodding politely to Ji-won, he turned to me.

“And… Mr. Kim Jun-ho.”

“…Yeah.”

I wasn’t surprised he knew my name—he should have.

But still, hearing someone this globally famous say it aloud felt… odd.

Almost like a celebrity was suddenly talking to me.

“I’ll be honest,” he said. “I’m not much of a talker, so I’ll get straight to the point.”

“Please, go ahead.”

I assumed it was just a formality—

But no.

Michael Jeter really did dive straight into the heart of the matter.

“Roughly ten months from now… Earth may face a catastrophic crisis.”

“…What?”

“…Yes?”

Did he just say—what I think he said?

---The End Of The Chapter---

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