I Became A Ghost In A Horror Game-Chapter 82: The End of Neverland

"Don't make me laugh!!!"

Peter Pan, enraged, thrust his massive fist forward like a spear.

But I caught it effortlessly with my smaller hand.

As Peter Pan panted heavily, I spoke indifferently.

"Struggle all you want, but it's too late, War Game.

Jabberwock has already decided to destroy this world.

Neverland will crumble just from its presence alone."

"I don’t care what nonsense you spew!"

A shotgun materialized from Peter Pan’s body.

If it were an ordinary shotgun, it wouldn’t do much damage to me.

But the power emanating from this weapon was anything but ordinary.

CRACK!

So I broke it.

Peter Pan's face twisted in disbelief before he stomped the ground with force.

The earth cracked, shifting my center of gravity slightly.

Seeing this, Peter Pan summoned another gun.

"A pointless effort."

I didn’t need to remain grounded anymore—I had wings now.

I was already hovering slightly above the ground, making his attack completely ineffective.

In an instant, I kicked Peter Pan with the speed of light.

He was sent flying like a cannonball.

He crashed through multiple buildings before coming to a stop.

Even though the cobblestones of the streets were made of soft material, the buildings were not.

Judging by the damage, he had taken quite a hit.

"Kuh! For someone in such a tiny body, you’ve got monstrous strength!"

"You seem to have the luxury of making observations."

"!"

I was already beside him.

As expected, teleporting through mirrors was an invaluable ability in battle.

I grabbed Peter Pan and soared into the sky.

The heavens were collapsing under Jabberwock’s influence.

Fragments of what was once the sky rained down upon Neverland, plunging the world into chaos.

The citizens screamed in terror.

Peter Pan's face twisted in horror.

"Stop... STOP THIS!!!"

SMACK!

"Oh? You’ve got some strength there."

Peter Pan wrenched himself free and flew straight toward Jabberwock.

Dashing headfirst into the monstrous dragon devouring this world without hesitation—he really was fearless.

Peter Pan stood before Jabberwock, clenching his fist, saturating it with demonic energy, and delivered a devastating punch.

BOOOOOM—!!!!

The thunderous impact could easily be mistaken for an explosion.

The seemingly invincible dragon of destruction, Jabberwock, had its head violently whipped back.

It was almost surreal, seeing such a small figure force the massive beast to reel.

But that was all it accomplished.

Jabberwock spoke to Peter Pan.

[You dream an impossible dream.

You are just like me.

A being destined to be forsaken by its father's love.]

[So do not struggle.

Accept the end of your fate and be reborn anew.]

Jabberwock's talons slashed through Peter Pan.

His body was torn apart.

Peter Pan plummeted, landing in the plaza of Neverland.

Blood poured from his wounds, and his breath came out in ragged, wheezing gasps.

Yet despite the agony, his demonic regeneration would eventually heal him.

Even so, the pain must have been unbearable.

And still, Peter Pan stood up.

"I will never... let you take my utopia... Citizens of Neverland!

Return to your homes!

I will protect this place!"

Jabberwock raised its colossal fist, larger than any building.

Peter Pan braced himself, taking the full force of the attack alone.

Bones cracked, his clenched teeth chipped, but with newfound strength, he lifted Jabberwock's strike.

I was amazed by his sheer determination.

And strangely enough, I found it... admirable.

"Now I’m curious.

Why are you so obsessed with Neverland, Peter Pan?"

Even as he struggled to push Jabberwock back, he answered with conviction.

"A horror game... You, of all people, should understand!

People seek safety.

Bombs raining down.

Screams of the dying.

Endless war.

The world overflowing with anomalous horrors.

Humans are weak—they cannot endure such a hell.

So they seek their utopias.

I merely granted them one.

This is for the sake of humanity!"

"And how does that justify turning them into drug-addicted husks?"

"If they all succumb to blissful intoxication, then no one will need to fight.

Both enemies and allies will be trapped in ‘utopia.’

If no one fights, war ceases to exist.

There will be no fear!

No human will ever need to struggle against the unfairness of the world again!"

"Heh..."

I showed interest, and Peter Pan started speaking more freely.

Had we talked like this before the fight, perhaps things could have been different.

But, like war itself, it was only when he was cornered that he chose negotiation.

"I was born into endless war.

A war that never stopped, an eternity of bloodshed.

There was only one way to halt it.

That was the spell I created using every resource in this game, every ounce of demonic power I had—

[Tinker Bell]."

I nodded.

A war game... would never truly end.

So he trapped both enemies and allies in a hallucination—a forced utopia, a Neverland they could never escape.

That was why he was called "Peter Pan."

A twisted sense of irony.

I looked him straight in the eye and asked the most glaring question.

"But Peter Pan...

Where, exactly, do you see a world without conflict?"

"...What?"

The people weren’t going home.

They were fighting each other.

Even the citizens had begun to realize it.

This world was no longer safe.

They weren’t trying to defeat Jabberwock or even help Peter Pan defeat me.

They weren’t even cheering.

They were simply scrambling to steal each other’s drugs—desperate to escape reality.

"Look at them.

Do you think they are living in an ideal world?

They don’t care about each other.

They’re not protecting one another.

They’re just fighting to steal more drugs so they can escape this nightmare.

Is this the Neverland you dreamed of?"

"..."

Peter Pan had no answer.

I used that moment to casually signal to Jabberwock.

Though it didn’t seem to appreciate my commanding tone, it ultimately retracted its fist and ascended once more to continue tearing apart Neverland.

I turned back to Peter Pan.

"Peter Pan."

"Shut up!!

It’s just not complete yet!

If I take your power, I can make it perfect!

Hand it over!"

Hopeless.

So this is why the Story’s Demons were so difficult to deal with.

Once again, Peter Pan lunged at me.

His strength was as immense as his will.

Fighting him in a fair match would be foolish.

So I didn’t.

I pulled out an anomaly and made myself invisible.

Peter Pan faltered in confusion.

"She... disappeared?"

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

"People often fear the unseen blade more than the one they can see.

This is an anomaly born from that very fear."

...I'll call this one Cheshire.

I moved in circles around Peter Pan, making it impossible for him to pinpoint my exact location.

"Here?!"

Wrong.

Cheshire’s ability rendered even mirrors invisible.

By moving through them unpredictably, I made sure that he couldn’t track me by sound alone.

Ah—an opening.

"Ha!"

CRACK!

"GRAAAAH!"

With a well-placed kick, Peter Pan's arm fractured, eliciting a scream from him.

Still, he quickly regenerated, desperately searching for my position again.

Watching him push forward, burning his body through pain and desperation, I let out a sigh.

"Haah... If I judged you by your crimes alone, I might consider killing you.

But in the end, you never actually tried to kill the children, and you could have stolen my power—but you didn’t.

I'll give you a chance to fix your twisted thoughts."

Peter Pan ignored my words.

He focused instead on using the Clockwork Crocodiles' heightened senses of hearing and smell to track me.

"Come out, Alice!

These crocodiles will hunt down your precious children!

Aren't you afraid? Your loved ones will be hurt!

So show yourself!"

For a moment, I felt my heart waver.

But I quickly regained my composure.

I couldn't just protect them.

I didn’t want to trap them within walls, abandoning their potential.

Just as they trusted me, I would trust them in return.

And he’s only threatening. He hasn’t actually ordered the crocodiles to kill anyone.

He’s unconsciously avoiding the act of killing children.

"Peter Pan, look here."

I revealed myself and summoned another anomaly from within the mirrors—this one was the Trauma Anomaly.

It had the shape of a tall figure with a camera for a face.

It was both a child and an old man.

A youth and an elder all at once.

Peter Pan turned to look.

I summoned a firearm and spoke softly as he charged toward me.

"Neverland was a bizarre sight.

But in some ways, it was beautiful.

There were so many flowers."

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The bullets vanished into the mirrors, reappearing from different angles.

Peter Pan scowled and discarded his gun, instead pouring his demonic power into his fist.

The very space around his hand began to distort—he was gathering enough force to end this in a single strike.

"But I couldn't smell the flowers at all.

The scent of alcohol and smoke consumed everything.

Even the flowers themselves lost their natural fragrance, drowned in the narcotic substances forced upon them."

Peter Pan swung his fist.

A punch strong enough to warp space itself.

Even Jabberwock would take some damage from this.

Not enough to kill it, though.

"Trauma. Show him the memory he can never forget."

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FLASH!

The camera on the anomaly’s head let out a blinding light.

Peter Pan staggered from the sudden mental shock, and the power in his fist dissipated.

I grabbed his wrist and transferred that energy into my own fist.

"I don’t know what horrors you endured in war.

I don’t know what you lost.

But the graves scattered across Neverland...

The pictures hanging in memorial...

They tell me that you lost something.

And that loss twisted you."

"Ghh...!"

The Trauma Anomaly forced a person to relive memories they could never forget.

It was a psychic attack—painful, but it also gave them a chance to face their past.

Peter Pan, this is the first and last opportunity I will give you.

Face your past.

Straighten out the twisted road you’ve been walking.

"Just like the dear friends I met in this game...

You must have had someone precious too.

Your comrades...

Or maybe... a second family?"

"Urgh...!"

Peter Pan’s expression shifted.

He was remembering something.

"Did you remember what you lost?

Then, Peter Pan, it’s time to end this!

If you truly desire a utopia, at least create it with a clear mind!"

A brilliant yet ominous power gathered in my fist.

Peter Pan tried to escape, but I grabbed his arm—he couldn’t move.

A critical moment.

And yet, in that instant—

Peter Pan didn’t feel fear.

He felt something... warm.

The hand gripping his arm wasn’t cruel or murderous.

It was firm.

But it held the warmth of someone leading him forward.

He had felt this warmth before.

And the moment he realized it—

A completely different image filled Peter Pan’s vision.

A woman he met in the War Game.

"...You."

Her voice echoed in his head.

...

"You’re the one who keeps saying this place is a game, aren’t you?

Why do you always look so sad?"

...

"My name is Wendy.

What’s yours?"

...

"You survived another battle.

Haha... you’re asking if you should be happy about it?

Idiot.

Of course you should be happy!

Losing comrades is painful.

But I survived.

So I’m going home.

To my safe little sanctuary."

...

"How can I be so strong?

Well...

I’m not, really.

Look at my hands—they still shake from the stabilizers I’ve been taking.

Though, I don’t need them as much anymore.

Because..."

...

"I found a place where I can rest, even if just for a little while.

Peter.

Smell the flowers.

Doesn’t it make you feel at ease?

In this place, I can forget about war and escape into my own little world.

The fragrance is strong, so I feel a little lightheaded...

But just for a moment, that’s okay, right?

I’ll take my strength from this place—

And I will survive.

Peter.

Will you stay with me?"

...

"Peter... Endure it... Come back home... You..."

"You are my utopia..."

Memories rushed through him.

And in that fleeting moment, Peter Pan understood.

Just as Alice had obsessed over the children's safety—becoming a demon to ‘save’ them—

Peter Pan had also /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ clung to something.

A twisted Peter Pan.

And an Alice who had made the wrong choices.

Now, both were given the chance to face their mistakes.

Alice hoped Peter Pan had found his answer.

She threw her final punch.

'...Wendy.'

BOOOOOOOM—!!!

Peter Pan was struck.

He was expelled beyond the crumbling boundaries of Neverland.

But he didn’t die.

He simply vanished from sight.

As he faded, his voice lingered.

"This isn’t the end, Alice.

I will return.

When you find yourself in need of a utopia once more..."

Alice nodded.

She didn’t know if Peter Pan’s final expression had been anger, laughter, or indifference.

Someday, when they met again, he would show her the answer.

Peter Pan disappeared completely.

And from behind Alice—

Footsteps.

Her precious friends.

Ha-rim and the club members.

"Alice!"

"You did it!"

Alice trembled for a brief moment.

Then she turned—

And pulled them all into a fierce hug.

"Just... Just let me stay like this for a little while."

At last—

Alice and the children were truly reunited.

And from now on, Alice would be with them on every adventure to come.