Chapter 91

I was amazed.

Who would have thought they’d provoke the human empire and sow discord?

Even the Grim Reaper with his white hair would be stunned by such words.

“But don’t worry. Now that Han Yoorim is here, there won’t be any more tragedies.”

I confidently declared while looking at the empire’s fleet.

Then.

Ding.

A donation came in.

<ㅇㅇ님이 10000원 후원>

-If it weren’t for you, none of this would’ve happened in the first place, damn it.

“That was an act of God.”

I recalled what happened about 11 days ago.

About 11 days ago, when I had just started the game.

We teamed up to take down a space pirate ship, and using the map data we obtained, we headed to the capital of the human empire.

Despite all the futuristic technology, the scenery reminded me of the Victorian era, and I was deeply impressed by the unbalanced capital of the human empire.

So, I went sightseeing and, in the process, got involved in all sorts of trouble.

<ㅇㅇ님이 10000원 후원>

-You terrorized the empire’s energy facilities, destroyed their fleet, and stole their sacred artifact, and you call that ‘in the process’?

“The goal was sightseeing, so it was all part of the process.”

Who told me to plant the empire’s sacred artifact in the middle of a crowded plaza?

They said if I could pull it out, I should try, so I just did as I was told. I did nothing wrong.

If anyone’s at fault, it’s the developers who made this game, right?

Yeah, that makes sense.

Zing—. Light gathered on the distant empire fleet.

Unlike before, I could feel that the target wasn’t multiple but a single one.

I was currently standing in space, completely unarmed.

No additional equipment, no massive ship, no mecha—just my bare body, which might’ve looked weak at first glance.

But even so, the empire’s forces prepared to unleash a full-scale assault on me.

They knew exactly what it meant for a human to stand in space with nothing but their body, so this was their choice.

I stomped hard on the empty void and shot forward.

The combat methods in <Cosmic Osuary> were diverse.

Space battles using spaceships, ship-to-ship infiltration battles, and ground battles after landing on planets.

The weapons used in combat were also varied.

Plasma guns, laser pistols, gravity guns, swords.

And.

Awakening abilities.

The alpha and omega of <Cosmic Osuary>. Awakening abilities.

The potential of these abilities was so immense that everyone who read the descriptions of the higher-level skills said, “Isn’t this too overpowered?”

Even at low levels, the game granted regenerative abilities. By mid-level, flying through the void wasn’t even strange.

Well, that much was understandable.

The abilities up to mid-level were common in other games.

The system naturally helps players dominate. It’s not for nothing that web novel protagonists soar after gaining a system.

But there’s a limit to that.

Most games set a low power ceiling to prevent players from becoming too strong.

There were balance issues and implementation problems, so players rarely reached what’s commonly called hyper-power status.

But <Cosmic Osuary> wasn’t like that.

The experience gap grew wider, dying meant starting over from level 1, mindlessly farming experience would create too many hostile relationships, and the achievement system made it impossible to reach higher levels just by grinding experience. But the power ceiling itself was extremely high.

Especially the awakening abilities at max level—regardless of the type, they were so overpowered that you couldn’t help but say, “Isn’t this too much?”

Flash. Light filled the universe. The same situation as before. I calmly swung my sword.

The empire’s sacred artifact, [Excalibur], was infused with my psychic energy. An enormous amount of psychic energy was drained, but for me, who possessed an ocean of psychic energy, it was just a handful.

Starlight drew lines. The kind of starlight that, even in an era where all sci-fi fantasies had degraded into societal nightscapes, could spark a flame in people’s hearts.

The starlight swallowed the scientific weapons, which were nothing more than free electrons and ions at the same concentration.

And I clung to the empire’s forces along the path created by the starlight.

Continuing from earlier, the awakening abilities in <Cosmic Osuary>, especially at max level, were incredibly powerful.

For example, control-type awakened ones could throw mountains at max level.

Transformation-type awakened ones could become mythical gods at max level.

And reinforcement-type awakened ones.

At max level, they could do this.

As I raised my sword, red psychic energy gathered on it.

Its size grew. Endlessly.

When the psychic blade became almost the size of a mountain, I swung the sword from top to bottom and said,

“See? That’s why I said reinforcement types are all about romance.”

“You said it already.”

*Kwaaang—.*

With a single slash, the massive ship split cleanly in half. Enemy mechas rushed out in a panic. I laughed.

“You can’t stop me with those scrap heaps.”

Humanity’s technology was more than capable of destroying a massive ship in one attack. Take the Empire’s latest massive ship, for example—it had that kind of destructive power.

But there was a huge difference between them and me.

Mobility.

In the end, there’s a difference in utility between a massive ship wielding power and a single individual wielding power.

Every time I swung my sword, the Empire’s forces dwindled slightly. The numbers were insignificant compared to their total, but the Empire must have realized: if this turns into a prolonged battle, they’d be the ones bleeding.

As a last desperate move, the Empire fired antimatter rounds simultaneously, but a max-level Awakened One is practically a demigod. Such attacks were useless. Of course, getting hit directly would be dangerous, but this isn’t some battle where I have to tank the enemy’s ultimate move. No way I’m taking that hit.

Dodging effortlessly, I smashed dozens of enemy massive ships with a Psychic Blade the size of Mount Everest. Only then did the Empire admit it: their operation had failed.

The Empire warped out simultaneously. I stared at their retreating forces before heading back to my spaceship.

The same rugged but practical spaceship we had built from the start.

“Another day, another victory for cosmic peace.”

“If you’d just played the game quietly, that peace would’ve been maintained long ago.”

“Pape, I didn’t know you were the type to nitpick over such trivial things. No wonder you… treat your support like a spoon you can grab at will.”

“You’re one to talk, calling supports tools. You’d break out in hives if you didn’t.”

I turned my head to watch the battle unfolding not far away.

The Space Tentacle Monster had entered Phase 2, growing nearly ten times its size and mercilessly smashing the Unified Alliance’s ships.

“Aren’t you going to help with the raid?”

“Games are only fun when you do it yourself.”

What’s the point of enjoying a game if you’re just getting carried? The thrill comes from earning it with your own strength.

I turned on Palpal’s stream.

“Over half of us are wiped out already! Isn’t this impossible?”

“If it’s impossible, just give up? Stop talking nonsense and focus on dealing damage!”

The sight of mechas and all sorts of Awakened Ones charging at the massive Space Tentacle Monster was as grand as a scene from mythology.

The number of ships, once close to 10,000, dwindled steadily. Closer to zero than 10,000.

5,000. 4,000. 3,000….

Then, as the number of ships dropped to 2,000.

*”Uooooooh—.”*

A short death cry echoed through space, and the Space Tentacle Monster’s movements stopped.

Palpal fell silent. He couldn’t process what had just happened.

“Huh?”

Palpal’s expression changed. His brain finally caught up.

Palpal shouted.

“It’s dead, damn it!”

At that moment, an enormous cheer erupted across the massive communication network Palpal was connected to.

It felt like watching the streets during the 2002 World Cup.

“Loot! Open the loot already!”

Though *Cosmic Osuary* had many realistic elements, its game-like aspects were undeniably game-like.

The rewards for defeating monsters were similar to other games. Materials and items dropped unrealistically, glowing brightly to make them easy to find.

So, the reward for defeating the massive Space Tentacle Monster was easy to spot… but.

“…That’s it?”

For some reason, the reward was just a single, somewhat underwhelming material called the [Transcendence Core].

Of course, that [Transcendence Core] was probably a crucial material for crafting endgame items like the [Excalibur] I was using, but that’s not what they were hoping for.

It was the Freedom Game Creation License the developers had hinted at.

Pape asked in a somewhat incredulous voice.

“Wait. Wasn’t the Freedom Game Creation License supposed to be there?”

I felt the same.

I was baffled too.

No.

If it’s not there, where the hell did they hide it?

The developers must be out of their minds.