Chapter 2: Regression to the Past
Regression to the past.
Everyone has imagined it at least once.
What if I could go back in time?
What if I could change the decisions I made?
What if I could erase a past mistake?
What if I could seize an opportunity I once missed?
Those kinds of things.
And now, that very situation was unfolding before my eyes.
“…Where is this?”
It was inside a subway train—specifically, a train packed with morning commuters.
Bzzzt!
A text message arrived.
“Mr. Kim Do-jin, you’re on your way, right?”
It was from the HR representative of the Hephaestus Guild, the first guild I worked for.
Back in this time, making a living without working for a god-founded guild was as hard as plucking stars from the sky.
It was on my first day as a porter that I awakened without a divine blessing.
That’s how I got the ‘Faithless’ skill.
A skill that ensured I would never be blessed by the gods.
Which could only mean one thing:
I really have gone back in time.
I had returned to the very day I set off for the Abyss for the first time, just to earn a living.
It was five years after the first Abyss appeared.
Five years since the full-scale war between the gods of humanity and the otherworldly gods began. By now, people had grown used to the war.
The many gods I once fought were nowhere to be seen.
Neither were the corpses of the otherworldly gods I’d slain.
Odin, Zeus, and even Ra, the sun god who came at me with fiery fury—they were all gone from this moment.
Even the god of creation who had driven a spear through my heart.
My last memory had been of dying with my heart pierced by that spear, but now, my chest bore no wound.
None of the countless scars I’d earned in battle remained.
I truly have returned.
Even the air felt different.
Fifteen years from now, during the final battle, even the atmosphere had become contaminated with dark magic.
Clean air had become rare and expensive.
The freshness of clean air…
I couldn’t help but inhale deeply, several times, as if trying to memorize it.
“Hoo…”
I sensed people around me taking a step away.
Understandable. Who would deeply inhale like that in a crowded subway? It must’ve seemed strange.
But I didn’t have time to care about that.
Grasping the present situation was more important.
Just then—
“Dive into love! Hello! This train is currently passing by the office of Eros’ marriage matching service, ‘Fall in Love!’”
The sweet voice of the god of love, Eros, echoed from the subway speakers.
This was the era when the gods of humanity played their roles with sickening flair.
I looked up toward the window.
On a massive electronic billboard, a cosmetics ad featuring Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty, was playing.
On a billboard opposite, a rival company used Yang Guifei as its model.
And that wasn’t all.
“Ares needs you. Brave warriors, apply now!”
Another ad featured Tyr, the Norse god of war, recruiting guild members. He held a sword in one hand and pointed at the viewer with a prosthetic arm—quite the impactful pose.
The gods were integrating with humanity in their own sly ways.
So cunningly that no one could have imagined they would betray humanity later on.
There were many other god-modelled ads too:
“Hermes Logistics—delivering safely for you.”
“Food delivery by Raijin, the god of thunder—your meals delivered warm.”
The inside of the subway was a frontline of corporate marketing, all run by god-led guilds.
Most products were advertised using gods, not humans.
In this modern world, gods were not only divine beings but also celebrities.
They had embedded themselves so deeply into daily life that finding a job unrelated to gods was nearly impossible.
That’s why I chose to become a porter.
A porter.
Someone who follows behind the main expedition force into the Abyss, carrying supplies—basically the lowest rung of the hierarchy.
Usually, porters were low-tier Awakeners, who had received minimal blessings or inherited minor divine powers.
I’d worked as a porter to experience the world of Awakeners firsthand.
To observe how blessed hunters fought, how those with weak blessings struggled—and how porters like me survived in such a world.
For five years, I’d secretly honed my power.
But now?
There’s no need to be a porter anymore.
I already had more than enough experience.
More importantly, I already had the skill.
[Godslayer – EX Rank]
Description: No one can stop you, who has even defied the gods.
This was the skill I’d acquired after slaying Xenon, the god of destruction.
Effect 1: The Godslayer can seal defeated mythological beings into ‘Historical Records’.
Effect 2: The Godslayer grows stronger based on the number of records collected.
[Historical Record Lv.1]
[Completed Record – 1: Calamity of Destruction – EX Rank]
When Level 5 is reached, more skills can be registered.
Currently Registerable Skills: 2
You can use limited abilities from sealed mythological beings.
Defeat a mythological entity to upgrade your record. (0/1)
Registerable: Heroes, Legendary Beasts, Mythological Gods
The ‘Faithless’ skill had vanished, replaced by this vivid new power.
I can’t use the Calamity of Destruction skill anymore.
There’s no second chance.
The more mythological beings I slay, the stronger this skill becomes.
It’s the perfect skill for me.
If today really is my first day on the job, then Hephaestus’ guild is probably aiming for the Gragas Abyss.
Hephaestus, a mid-tier blacksmith god, had organized the raid himself to recover one of his sacred relics.
If that’s the case, then I have no reason to work as a porter.
From memory, Hephaestus’ team ultimately failed to conquer the Abyss and had to retreat.
It was a miserable experience.
Typically, it takes mid-tier guilds 2 to 3 months to raid an Abyss.
Wasting two months in a failed attempt would only delay my growth.
So, I sent a message to the guild HR:
“Sorry. Due to unforeseen circumstances, I won’t be able to participate in the expedition.”
“Understood. Just know there will be penalties for future applications.”
The reply came quickly.
They didn’t seem to care much.
Of course not.
I was just one of the hundreds of porters. There were plenty waiting in line to take my place.
The message was a bit irritating, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it.
My goal was to strengthen the Godslayer skill.
To do that, I needed to kill a mythological being.
I couldn’t afford to waste time in an uncertain Abyss.
At the next station—Yeongdeungpo—I got off the train.
“Come take a look! Just one peek! The Magic Box created by the Trickster God Loki himself! Only 100,000 won for a chance at divine luck!”
I turned toward the shouting voice.
And there it was.
Bingo.
Small boxes glowing with an ominous purple hue.
Loki’s Magic Boxes.
Nice name, but in reality, they were just scams.
Which is exactly why Loki’s tricks always came from unexpected places.
At a glance, a divine gift for just 100,000 won might seem cheap… yet no one was buying them.
Why?
Because the contents were garbage.
Most boxes contained cigarette butts, hair, or if you were lucky—candy. Unlucky? Dog poop.
No one would spend 100,000 won on literal trash with no blessings attached.
Still, some believed Loki had hidden a secret in the boxes and kept researching.
The boxes came in white, blue, green, yellow, and purple. People speculated that yellow or purple must hold the rarest items—just like in games.
But that was wrong.
A famous YouTuber hunter, Gwang Su-ho, with over 10 million subscribers, once bought dozens of each color for a video.
“Hey everyone, it’s your hunter, Gwang Su-ho!”
From all those boxes—only trash.
Until the last one: a white box.
“This is the final one. If this is trash too, then Loki’s boxes are officially junk.”
He opened it—
“Huh?”
An S-Rank pair of shoes appeared.
Not even a full set, but still—an S-Rank item from a 100,000 won box.
“Holy crap! S-Rank! This is insane!!!”
The reaction was explosive. The live chat went wild.
“Loki strikes again! Didn’t expect it from white! He’s messing with us! Amazing! Everyone, buy white only! Don’t look at anything else—just get white boxes!”
After that broadcast, everyone rushed to buy the white boxes.
Every time they appeared, they sold out instantly.
It didn’t matter if another S-Rank item ever dropped. People were gambling with hope.
But the real truth about the Magic Box?
It wasn’t about the color.
That entire broadcast? Just another one of Loki’s tricks.
That YouTuber, Gwang Su-ho? Just another one of Loki’s many disguises.
The key wasn’t the color—it was the engraving on the box.
Of course, when that truth became known, Loki mixed things up again with even more misleading patterns… but that knowledge won’t spread for years.
Which means only I know right now.
“Is it really 100,000 won?”
I walked up and asked the seller.
“Yes! A Magic Box handcrafted by Loki himself—only 100,000! Practically free!”
“I see.”
Before my regression, I wouldn’t have touched this, no matter what weapon it contained.
Back then, I refused to use any divine artifacts.
I believed they were cursed, not blessed—and refused to trust the gods.
I swore never to use anything related to them, learning forging from dwarves instead.
We got along well since they also hated the gods.
But now?
I know what happens in the future.
How the gods betray humanity.
So why not use them before they use me?
This isn’t about faith anymore.
It’s about whether I kill them or not.
Whether I get revenge—or let that dreadful future repeat itself.
I couldn’t miss this opportunity.
“I’ll buy one. Give me the purple one.”
I handed over 100,000 won—nearly all the 130,000 I had.
The seller’s eyes widened slightly.
He clearly hadn’t expected a sale.
“There’s still a white one left—are you sure you want purple?”
“Of course.”
You think I don’t know your trick?
He gave up persuading me and handed over the box.
“May Loki’s luck be with you.”
“Thanks.”
No need to open it in public.
As I turned to leave, he called after me.
“Not opening it here? I can dispose of it for you if you’d like.”
“What if I win something? Just in case—I’ll open it privately.”
“Oh ho, how wise.”
Like I don’t know what you’re plotting?
Opening the “real” thing in a public place would just attract attention—exactly what Loki wanted.
No chance.
Finally, the seller let me go.
He pretended to be human, but I knew the truth:
That vendor was Loki himself.
But there’s no need to expose that now.
Soon enough, he’ll come find me on his own.
To meet the man who saw through his tricks.
I stepped into a nearby, empty restroom.
Running my fingers over the box’s engraved patterns.
Loki’s Magic Box. The secret isn’t the color—it’s the symbols.
Dragons, tigers, crescent moons—all kinds of carvings, big and small.
Only boxes engraved with crescent moons contain divine relics.
Street vendors selling these boxes are all Loki’s clones. They actively try to prevent people from buying the real thing—unless, like me, you already know.
That’s why the truth stayed hidden for so long.
But now, the box is in my hands.
No reason to hesitate.
FWOOOSH!
As I opened the box, a purple light surrounded me.
