Regression: Reclaiming the End-Chapter 31: The PK King Part II

"Make sure you’re careful when entering the Labyrinth solo," I warned, my tone darker now, more deliberate. "I have a strong feeling... the PK King is already on the move."

"PK King?" he echoed, sitting up straighter. "What the hell is that? And who?"

I glanced toward the window for a moment, as if expecting the fog of the Rift to creep through at any second. Then I turned back to him. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

"PK stands for Player Killer," I said flatly. "There’s someone out there—someone I know—who isn’t interested in clearing the Rift. Not really. He hunts other Challengers. For fun. For sport."

Noel went still, the casual air between us evaporating instantly.

"Inside the Labyrinth," I continued, "there are no cameras, no system broadcasts, no audience. It’s the one place where killing another Challenger leaves no trace. No proof. No justice. Just death and silence."

He swallowed hard, gears clearly turning. "So... he’s been killing people inside?"

"Not just people," I muttered. "Talents. Prodigies. Anyone who looks like they might shine. I haven’t confirmed it yet, but the signs are there. Too many vanishings. Too many parties wiped with no boss trigger."

Noel’s hands clenched at his sides. "You know who he is?"

I nodded slowly. "In the past... he went by many names. But in the Rift, he was feared as the PK King. A monster in human skin. And if he’s already started his rampage again in this timeline, it means we’re all running out of time."

Silence settled between us for a long second before I added, "So don’t go in alone unless you have to. And if you do... don’t let your guard down for a second."

Noel nodded slowly, the weight of it settling over him.

"Got it. I’ll keep my blade close."

-

Noel looked at me with a mix of curiosity and unease.

"If it came down to it," he asked, his voice quieter now, "you and him—back then, if you two fought... who would’ve won?"

I didn’t answer right away. My eyes dropped to the floor, thoughts clawing back to those bloody moments I’d tried to forget—the countless battles, the twisted grins, the screams in the dark halls of the higher floors. Memories of a predator who thrived in chaos.

After a long pause, I finally replied, my voice low and even.

"Me," I said. "But it wouldn’t have been easy."

Noel raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

I gave a slow nod, gaze sharpening. "I was stronger. I had more tools. More clarity. But he wasn’t alone. He had a guild. A brutal, loyal one—fighters who thrived on bloodshed just like he did. He wasn’t the kind of threat you dealt with head-on. He was the kind you prepared for like a natural disaster. When he moved, people disappeared."

Noel leaned back, exhaling. "Damn..."

"Yeah," I murmured. "Even with everything I had... it wouldn’t have been a clean fight. But this time, it’s different. I’m not just strong—I’m prepared. And I’ve already seen how the story ends."

Noel narrowed his eyes slightly, leaning forward with elbows on his knees. "So... that means you know his name, right?"

I shook my head slowly.

"No," I said. "I don’t know his name."

His brow furrowed. "Then how are you so sure it’s him?"

I looked at him, my voice firm.

"Because I saw his face," I said. "Up close."

Noel didn’t respond at first. He just watched me, probably trying to imagine what it would take for me—me—to end up close enough to see the face of the most notorious killer in the Labyrinth and live to remember it.

My gaze drifted to the faint scratches on the coffee table, fingers tightening slightly.

"I remember the eyes," I added, quieter. "Empty, like he wasn’t killing to win. Just killing... because it was fun."

Noel leaned back, his expression hardening. "And now he’s back. In this timeline."

I nodded once.

"That’s why I need you to be careful. If you see anything—any signs of solo challengers going dark, people disappearing off-trace mid-run—let me know. We stop this before it starts."

Noel gave a grim chuckle. "Right. Keep eyes open, trust no one. Got it."

"Good," I said, voice like steel. "This time, we don’t let monsters walk free."

-

After all the heavy talk — timelines, deaths, killers in the dark — the silence that followed felt thick. Too much weight for a single evening.

I glanced at Noel, who sat there with a thousand-yard stare, still clearly digesting everything I’d said. His hand drummed lightly on his thigh, a nervous habit he’d had since we were kids.

I sighed and stood up, stretching out the tension in my back.

"Alright. Enough of this doomsday crap," I said with a faint smirk. "Let’s eat."

Noel blinked, then looked up. "Yeah? What’re we getting?"

I didn’t even have to think about it. "The usual. Pizza and Coke."

He grinned immediately. "Like the old days."

"Exactly."

I grabbed my phone and placed the order — large pepperoni, half extra cheese like Noel liked it, and two cold bottles of Coke. Nothing fancy. Just something that reminded us we were still human, still grounded. Something that brought us back before the Rift tore the world open.

When the knock came twenty minutes later, we both moved without saying a word — a practiced rhythm born from years of knowing each other.

The pizza box hit the table with a familiar, greasy thud. The scent alone washed away the tension in the room. Coke bottles hissed as we twisted the caps off and clinked them together in a quiet, unspoken toast.

"To surviving," I muttered.

"To surviving," Noel echoed, taking a long drink.

We sat on the floor like we always used to, backs against the couch, the Rift and its horrors momentarily forgotten as we tore into hot slices of pizza, talking less about death and more about things that didn’t matter.

For that one small window of time, we were just two old friends sharing a meal — not Vassals, not survivors, not tacticians in a game of gods and monsters.

Just us.

And it was enough.