The 100th Regression of the Max-Level Player

Chapter 252: End of the 15th Round (Part 2)

At that moment, Heo Tae-seok’s hand hesitated over the keyboard.

Feeling exposed, he debated whether to delete his comment. Ultimately, he decided against it.

“Why should I delete it? It’s true.”

Heo Tae-seok let out a long sigh, looking as dejected as someone nursing a heartbreak.

Strictly speaking, his dejection wasn’t over a person—it was over a god.

‘No matter how much I think about it, I just don’t understand. What is the Black Scythe thinking…?’

The fact that he had given everything in the 15th round to help the Black Scythe was a source of pride for him.

At that moment, Heo Tae-seok was ecstatic, overflowing with joy.

But his excitement was short-lived.

When he saw his ranking, the euphoria quickly dissipated.

“I’m in 10th place? Me, 10th place?”

He hadn’t dared to hope for 2nd or 3rd place.

To be honest, he had secretly hoped for a top-three position.

After all, he was the founder and leader of the Death Church.

As the Black Scythe’s “right-hand man,” wasn’t that reasonable?

‘No, I should be realistic. I can’t be greedy. I didn’t do enough in the 15th round to justify that rank.’

He admitted that 2nd place Christine’s Sanctuary skill played a huge role in completing the third mission.

Similarly, 3rd place Min Juri’s buffs had been crucial to succeeding in the first and second missions.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Given their contributions, aiming for 2nd or 3rd place was absurd.

“But why was I pushed all the way down to 10th place?”

He understood that rankings had no practical significance, but still, it hurt his pride.

Being ranked 10th felt like he had been forgotten—like he didn’t matter as much.

‘To the Black Scythe, what am I? Did my efforts mean anything to him?’

Even though he was ready to lay down his life for the Black Scythe, the rewards he received in return felt disproportionately small.

The only tangible benefit he had received was the relocation of the Death Church’s headquarters from a rural area to Seoul.

‘Hmm… when I think about it, that building is worth hundreds of millions. And he also provided 100 million won a year for operational costs.’

While it seemed like adequate compensation on the surface, in reality, it felt less so.

The building wasn’t technically his—it was more like borrowing a space.

The operational funds? Barely enough to cover the basics.

Most of the money went toward supporting and managing the Death Church’s members and maintaining the building, leaving Heo Tae-seok with little for himself.

‘I’m not asking for material rewards.’

He wasn’t expecting grand compensation.

What he wanted was simple recognition.

Acknowledgment of his efforts and validation of his role as a leader.

“Should I just accept being 10th?”

As Heo Tae-seok grappled with his feelings of disappointment, he suddenly froze, startled by his own thoughts.

How could he—a mere servant—feel resentment toward a god?

Slap! Slap!

He slapped himself across the face, trying to suppress his wavering faith.

“Unworthy… I am unworthy. My faith is lacking…”

“What’s lacking?”

Startled by the sudden voice, Heo Tae-seok whipped around.

Standing there was Cardinal Em Jun-seok.

“What are you mumbling about, Leader?”

“Ahem, it’s nothing.”

“This isn’t the time for idle thoughts.”

“What’s going on?”

“Some visitors have arrived at the Death God Sect. Follow me.”

Without further explanation, Em Jun-seok led the way, and Heo Tae-seok followed him, confused.

It wasn’t a time when worshippers usually gathered, so who could it be?

‘Huh?’

As they stepped outside into the courtyard, they saw a group of people—ten in total.

All foreigners.

‘Who are these people?’

Had they heard rumors about the Death Church and come for a tour?

At first, he thought so, but he quickly realized otherwise.

Several of them were equipped with player items.

“They’re players?”

“Is this the temple of the Black Scythe?”

Since the translation system only worked in the otherworld, Heo Tae-seok couldn’t understand them.

“Cardinal Em, what are they saying?”

Fortunately, Em Jun-seok spoke English.

“Wait a moment.”

After a brief exchange, Em Jun-seok turned back, his face full of surprise.

“They said they want to join the Death Church.”

“All of them?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

After another exchange, Em Jun-seok relayed their response.

“They said they survived the last round thanks to the Black Scythe choosing them. They were also deeply moved by his self-sacrifice and are determined to join.”

“Haha…”

Given the dwindling number of players, welcoming new members to the sect could only be a good thing.

The Black Scythe had already made it clear—new members were always welcome.

“Very well. Let’s arrange an interview. I’ll call the Black Scythe.”

Welcoming ten new members was a blessing, but Heo Tae-seok had no idea.

This was just the beginning.

Soon, all 175 players saved by the Black Scythe would come flocking to join.