The Last Player: When the Game Became Reality

The Message He Never Recorded

Ethan didn't move.

The room was dark except for the faint light coming from the computer.

His own voice still echoed in his head.

"If you're seeing this..."

He knew that voice.

There was no mistaking it.

It was his.

But Ethan had never recorded that message.

He slowly sat down.

His eyes remained fixed on the monitor.

"Play it again."

Nothing happened.

He clicked the mouse.

The screen remained black.

He pressed the keyboard.

Still nothing.

Then the computer displayed another message.

[MEMORY FILE CORRUPTED.]

Ethan frowned.

"Of course."

He leaned back.

For fifteen years, he had dealt with strange quests, hidden events, and unexplained system messages.

But this was different.

This wasn't something he had discovered inside the game.

This was something that seemed to come from himself.

His phone vibrated.

Mina: Are you awake?

Ethan looked at the time.

2:14 a.m.

He replied.

Yes.

Her answer came almost immediately.

I can't sleep.

Ethan stared at the screen.

He typed:

Neither can I.

A few seconds passed.

Then:

Did something happen?

Ethan hesitated.

He could tell her.

He could explain everything.

The strange creature.

The key.

The fragment.

The recording.

But something stopped him.

He didn't know who was listening.

So he simply replied:

Nothing important.

Three dots appeared.

You're a terrible liar.

Ethan smiled.

Go to sleep.

You too.

He placed the phone down.

For several minutes, he sat in silence.

Then he opened his status.

[PLAYER STATUS]

Name: Ethan Vale

Level: 9

Class: None

Rank: Unranked

Strength: 10

Agility: 9

Vitality: 11

Intelligence: 12

Endurance: 10

Mana: 0

Skills: None

Titles: None

Hidden Potential: Locked

Analysis Progress: 5%

Ethan stared at the numbers.

They were still weak.

Embarrassingly weak.

But they were better than before.

And unlike the other players, Ethan wasn't receiving power simply because the system handed it to him.

Every increase had come from experience.

From fighting.

From studying.

From making mistakes.

It was slow.

Painfully slow.

But Ethan preferred it that way.

He had spent fifteen years becoming the strongest player in the world.

He knew exactly what happened when someone became powerful too quickly.

They stopped learning.

They started relying on their strength.

And eventually, they made mistakes.

Ethan didn't intend to make those mistakes again.

The following morning, something unexpected happened.

His mother called him into the kitchen.

"Ethan."

He walked in.

"What is it?"

She placed a bowl on the table.

"Eat."

"I already—"

"Eat."

Ethan sat down.

His mother smiled.

"You've been going out every day."

"Yes."

"You're getting thinner."

"I'm fine."

She gave him the same look she'd given him countless times throughout his life.

Ethan sighed.

"Okay."

He started eating.

For a few moments, everything felt normal.

Almost peaceful.

Then his father called from the bedroom.

"Ethan."

He immediately stood.

"What happened?"

"Come here."

Ethan entered the room.

His father was sitting upright.

There was something strange in his expression.

"You found it."

Ethan stopped.

"Found what?"

"The key."

Ethan's heart skipped.

His father looked toward him.

"You have it with you."

Ethan reached into his pocket.

"Yes."

His father nodded slowly.

"I was wondering when that would happen."

"What does it mean?"

His father didn't answer.

Instead, he asked:

"Did you see the symbol?"

Ethan nodded.

"Yes."

"Did it react?"

Ethan stared at him.

"How do you know?"

His father smiled sadly.

"Because it did the same thing to your grandfather."

Ethan stepped closer.

"My grandfather had it?"

"Not the key."

"Then what?"

His father closed his eyes.

"A piece of something."

"What piece?"

"I don't know."

Ethan's patience was beginning to disappear.

"Everyone keeps telling me they don't know."

His father opened his eyes.

"I truly don't."

Ethan became quiet.

His father continued.

"Your grandfather spent years searching for something."

"What?"

"A tower."

Ethan froze.

"Where?"

"I don't know."

"Was it real?"

His father nodded.

"He believed it was."

Ethan's eyes narrowed.

"What did he find?"

His father looked toward the window.

"Nothing."

A pause.

"At least, that's what he told me."

That afternoon, Ethan visited his grandfather's old house.

It had been empty for years.

Dust covered everything.

Old furniture.

Bookshelves.

Photographs.

Boxes.

Ethan had been there many times as a child.

But he'd never really looked around.

Now, with the key in his pocket, everything seemed different.

He searched through drawers.

Nothing.

He checked the shelves.

Old newspapers.

Letters.

Photographs.

Nothing.

Hours passed.

Ethan sat on the floor.

He was about to give up when he noticed something beneath an old cabinet.

A wooden box.

He pulled it out.

The lock was rusted.

Ethan tried the key.

Click.

The box opened.

Inside were dozens of papers.

Maps.

Notes.

Photographs.

And one notebook.

Ethan picked it up.

The cover was almost completely worn away.

He opened the first page.

A date was written there.

June 17, 1998.

Below it:

I saw the tower again.

Ethan's eyes widened.

He continued reading.

It appeared for only eleven seconds.

No one else saw it.

I thought I was imagining things.

Ethan turned the page.

I saw it again.

Another page.

This time, I heard a voice.

Another.

It called my name.

Ethan's expression became serious.

He kept reading.

His grandfather had spent years documenting strange events.

Unexplained lights.

People disappearing.

Symbols appearing in different places.

Ancient ruins.

And always—

the Tower.

Ethan turned another page.

Then stopped.

A drawing covered the entire sheet.

It was the Tower.

Not the Tower from the game.

Something much larger.

Thousands of floors.

Maybe more.

At the bottom of the drawing was a sentence.

"The Tower is not inside the game."

Ethan's heartbeat increased.

He turned the page.

Nothing.

Another page.

Nothing.

Then, near the end of the notebook, he found a single paragraph.

If the Tower ever appears in the world again, someone will return.

That person will believe he has already conquered it.

He will be wrong.

Ethan stared at the words.

His hands became cold.

He turned the page.

There was only one sentence.

Written much darker than the others.

"The Tower remembers every player who reaches the top."

Ethan closed the notebook.

For a long time, he simply sat there.

Then he heard footsteps outside.

He immediately stood.

Someone was approaching the house.

Ethan slipped the notebook into his jacket.

The door opened.

A man walked inside.

The same man from the Hunter Association.

Dark coat.

Calm expression.

He looked at Ethan.

Neither spoke.

Then the man smiled.

"So you found your grandfather's notebook."

Ethan's hand slowly moved toward the metal pipe at his side.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Adrian."

"Why are you following me?"

Adrian didn't answer.

Instead, he looked around the old house.

"Your grandfather was a remarkable man."

Ethan's expression hardened.

"You knew him?"

"Briefly."

"How?"

"He asked questions nobody wanted answered."

Ethan stepped forward.

"What do you know about the Tower?"

Adrian looked directly into his eyes.

"More than you."

"Then tell me."

"You're not ready."

Ethan laughed bitterly.

"Everyone keeps saying that."

Adrian's expression changed slightly.

"You really don't remember."

Ethan froze.

"Remember what?"

Adrian didn't answer.

He reached into his coat and placed something on the table.

A photograph.

Ethan picked it up.

His breath caught.

The photograph showed a group of people standing in front of a strange stone structure.

A tower.

But that wasn't what shocked him.

Standing among those people was a young man.

Ethan stared at him.

The man looked almost exactly like Ethan.

Same face.

Same eyes.

Same expression.

But the photograph was old.

Very old.

Ethan slowly looked at Adrian.

"Who is that?"

Adrian's smile disappeared.

"You."

Ethan's blood ran cold.

"That's impossible."

"I know."

Adrian turned toward the door.

"That's why you need to remember."

Ethan grabbed his arm.

"Wait."

Adrian stopped.

Ethan's voice became quiet.

"What happened on Floor 1,000?"

Adrian looked back.

For the first time, genuine fear appeared in his eyes.

"You really don't remember?"

"No."

Adrian stared at him for several seconds.

Then he said:

"You didn't finish the game, Ethan."

He pulled his arm free.

"You escaped from it."

Adrian walked out.

Ethan remained frozen.

The words wouldn't leave his mind.

You didn't finish the game.

You escaped from it.

His computer suddenly turned on back at home.

A blue screen appeared.

[MEMORY RESTORATION: 6%]

Then—

another message.

[WARNING.]

[THE PLAYER IS BEGINNING TO REMEMBER.]

Ethan looked toward the doorway.

For the first time since the game became reality, he wasn't wondering whether he could become strong again.

He was wondering what kind of person he had been before he forgot.