The Returnee II
Sword Marquess, though mad, possessed remarkable abilities.
To intuitively understand just how remarkable, a bit of explanation is necessary.
This world hates humanity.
Teens, caught in their second year of middle school delusions, often mutter, "It seems the world hates me." As they grow, they gradually learn that, surprisingly (or perhaps not so surprisingly), the world is indifferent to their existence.
Honestly, from the world's perspective, there are other things to worry about. Like turtles that have swallowed plastic or quantum entanglement.
But now, that's no longer the case. Something fundamentally changed with the Gate incident. It just changed.
From that day on, the world decided to dislike humanity a bit more.
The Void.
Otherwise known as the Abyss, or Hell. Previously, the term 'Gate' was used, but increasingly, people began to refer to it as the Void.
-Hey, what's that?
-Huh? What is it?
-That flower. Why does it have teeth?
In the Void, the petals of the Rafflesia sprout shark teeth. Spiders grow thirteen legs. Dragonflies develop six side eyes. Headless elephants roam around.
If monsters and anomalies are left unchecked, massive genetic mutations occur in the affected land, leading to a rapid increase in deformed creatures.
Thus, the Void's poison.
It instantaneously deforms the civilization and knowledge humanity has painstakingly built up over centuries.
Have you ever seen fields stained blood-red? Rice grains that resemble aphids and flies? Instead of rice grains, lilies bloom. A farmer once dug up his field and found that all the rice plants were interconnected underground like a bamboo forest.
Despite being grown in the same field, with the same species, water, and sunlight, the rice on the left side of the field looked different from that on the right.
Human civilization was established on 'reproducibility'. When humanity realized that spring would come again a year after all the changes, they built a tower of gold. At the sharp top of this gold tower, time finally transformed into history.
Now, the tower has crumbled.
Time flows. It flows unpredictably. Like a desert storm, it covers the once-brilliant surface of the tower with sand.
What is humanity? What are 'we'? Are we the same as that being whose head sprouts flowers and whose tongue grows fish gills?
From those gills, the cries of a newborn can be heard. Eventually, they only communicate with the sound of a child's cry, and we cannot understand what those sounds mean.
Occasionally, time flows quickly near Incheon and slowly near Seoul. Nothing repeats. Nothing is reproduced. It just flows.
"Cities are connected..."
Thus, I, the Saintess, the Nomads, the Samcheon Guild Alliance, have declared war against the Void devouring our world.
"Humanity needs to return to the times when it was overwhelmed by nature."
Isn't that regression? The Nomads shook their heads.
"Like evolution and regression are merely human distinctions, this too is merely an adaptation to the environment... Giving up the rule of areas for the rule of lines."
From area to line.
From line to area.
That was the motto of the National Road Management Corps.
"Then, we can escape from being isolated by the Void and maintain our community..."
Like a knight fitting a disabled person with a prosthetic, the National Road Management Corps has paved the way for humanity.
At last, isolated points, cities, and people have transformed into stations where they can briefly rest.
-I'm continuing to fix the broken railways of this world one by one.
I was able to keep Dang Seo-rin's last will.
It took many years.
And it will take many more years.
-From history to history, forever.
The National Road Management Corps did not represent Busan. It could not symbolize Seoul. The National Road Management Corps was simply humanity's last cradle, the last unit, and the frontline.
"We can do it. No, we must..."
Every time they set off, the patrol units of the National Road Management Corps could not guarantee their lives.
The patrol unit that left for Gangneung never returned. After two years, all thirteen members of a patrol unit exploring the North returned transformed into sunflowers that walked, their heads turned toward the flags they held when they departed.
Still, we did not hesitate to stand at the forefront.
"Heh. This season will be a good harvest too!"
Sword Marquess was indeed a support unit for this frontline.
"With this much grain, we can surely feed Samhan[1] well and have leftovers! Truly, it is the providence of heaven!"
No matter how much we pave the way, people need to eat. Whether it's three meals a day, two meals, or even one, the need to eat is my body's urgent fate.
I did not take this hunger as hardship or sorrow.
Infected with the New Buddha virus, one could escape the fate of hunger at any time. It meant transitioning from being human to becoming a being of the Void. The hunger was tragic, but it was a human tragedy, and still, it was the tragedy of beings born and raised on this land.
However, I did not live to see human horrors as human beauty. We needed to eat.
The chef responsible for the rice power of the Korean Peninsula was none other than Sword Marquess.
"Wouldn't it be alright for me to enjoy a little sightseeing this summer?"
And, as emphasized several times, our chef was crazy.
"Ah, Lord Sword Marquess. Sightseeing?"
"Literally, wandering the martial world. Young warriors of the martial arts community. Don't reveal this anywhere. I have kept it a secret until now, but actually..."
Sword Marquess carefully looked around. The glances of the National Road Management Corps, checking for monsters nearby, could not have been as sharp.
After confirming that no one else was around except me, Sword Marquess whispered in my ear.
"I am the rightful disciple of the 260th leader of the Mount Hua Sect."
"..."
"The essence of the three-thousand-year history of the Mount Hua Sect is fully contained within the martial arts secrets in my possession."
So, this man was claiming to be a marquess in Yuldoguk and a Sword Marquess in the martial world, and, to top it off, he claimed to be the next leader of the Mount Hua Sect.
And he wore an aluminum practice sword at his waist.
By this point, my head was spinning.
"Um... if it's alright to ask, why is the elder who represents the future of the Mount Hua Sect in Korea?"
"Of course, it's to hide from the despicable eyes of the Demonic Cult. As the rightful successor of the Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Technique, it's inevitable that those malicious ones glare at me. Look. Even now, aren't the demons controlled by the Heavenly Demon shaking the world?"
"Good heavens."
"That's right. It's exactly the feeling of wanting to seek a deity! Originally, I was a master who had reached the pinnacle, but during my escape from the Demonic Cult, I suffered serious internal injuries to my energy centers. However, having recuperated here in the land of Haedong, I must now return to my home mountain and fulfill my duties as a disciple."
"You mean to go to Mount Hua in China right now?"
"Exactly so."
I looked up at the sky and sighed deeply.
"Lord Sword Marquess, are you mad?"
Kim Joo-chul and Kim Si-eun father-and-son's tale hinted briefly that in this era, 'overseas travel' was just a fancier term for 'suicide.'
At my straightforward remark, Sword Marquess merely tilted his head.
"I am perfectly sane."
After all, asking a madman if he's mad would never yield a meaningful response. Why ask a dolphin if it's a dolphin unless one's eyes are crossed? The truth is evident.
I changed tactics.
"If you're talking about the Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Technique, is it the one where, if perfected, the scent of plum blossoms pervades ten thousand li[2] from the sword?"
"Oh, it seems the young martial artist has also heard of its great reputation. That's correct."
"Does the Mount Hua you know of bloom with many plum blossoms?"
"Indeed it does."
"...That's a setting made up in Korea."
My knowledge of martial arts was limited to a few novels I read as a child. But even I knew this:
Mount Hua was not particularly famous for plum blossoms.
One could guess as much from the photos alone. Mount Hua was a mountain as bare as its leaves, with rocks starkly exposed, presenting many challenges for plum blossoms to flourish luxuriantly.
The same goes for the scent. Evolving an olfactory system that interprets the smell of rocks as plum blossoms was genetically impossible.
What am I saying?
The self-proclaimed Sword Marquess and prospective 261st Sect Leader of the Mount Hua Sect, holder of a practice sword, a native Korean from Ulleungdo, and a non-speaker of Chinese, was spouting nonsense. This old man was a liar through and through.
"Aaaargh!"
The Sword Marquess roared like a lion.
"How dare a junior mock me! The scent of plum blossoms I once encountered while learning from my master still lingers in my nose! If you intend to insult my master and me, I will not sit idly by!"
"Then why not demonstrate the Plum Blossom Sword Technique yourself, if you are its inheritor?"
"Had I not been attacked by the beasts of the Demonic Cult and my energy centers remained intact, I would demonstrate it right away."
"I'm going mad."
Hey, you're supposed to be a 60-year-old man, but you're younger than me. Plus, back when civilization was intact, 60 wasn't even considered old.
How old am I this year... no, let's drop this strategy.
Even if I win the battle, I feel like I'd lose the war.
Anyway, Sword Marquess was a type of person I couldn't handle.
Fortunately, we had the 'ultimate weapon for dealing with elders.'
"Noh Do-hwa. Help."
"A 60-year-old grandpa? Easy..."
The most beloved woman among the elderly in the Korean Peninsula, the greatest protective gear knight and head of the National Road Management Corps, Noh Do-hwa, smirked mischievously.
"Sir, are you feeling good...?"
"Ah, ah, my whole body feels relaxed."
Noh Do-hwa performed a shoulder massage on Sword Marquess. Her skills were so excellent that one could believe she had been a masseuse rather than a public servant, and Sword Marquess's expression melted.
"Plum blossoms bloom on mountain peaks and even on the streets. Then, wouldn't they bloom in the heart of a person just the same? Since the tradition of the Mount Hua Sect has passed to you, sir, what does it matter whether this place is Haedong or Chang'an...?"
"Uuum, but my sworn brothers..."
"No, no... Your master has already passed away, hasn't he? Then, you are the eldest in the Mount Hua Sect, and there's a tradition of juniors visiting their seniors, not the other way around. They should come to you, why should you move...?"
"Oh? That is indeed a wise saying."
"If you entrust me with a letter, I'll send it to China on your behalf. If they understand their duty, they should rightly come here to see you..."
"Oho! The advice of the head of the post station is absolutely right!"
"Then I'll also look forward to the autumn harvest..."
"Hmm! Leave it to me!"
The National Road Management Corps was a post station, and there the head was the postmaster.
After displaying her miraculous skills in hand and tongue, Noh Do-hwa turned to me and smirked.
"That's why I prefer the elderly to the young... they understand, you know...?"
I won't nitpick over her argument.
But even with Noh Do-hwa's full-hearted play, there was a limit. Sword Marquess was a madman, and madness was incurable.
"I must visit Mount Hua at least once before I die."
With the change of seasons and each harvest, Sword Marquess kept murmuring like someone afflicted with nostalgia.
"I must see it before I die..."
Since the establishment of the National Road Management Corps, Sword Marquess repeated this mantra through the 54th, 55th, 56th, and 57th cycles.
Time passed.
Finally, the 108th cycle.
During the holiday season, I visited Sword Marquess. In the very early part of his first year, Sword Marquess was still living in his hometown, Ulleungdo (yes, he had no reason to be nostalgic).
"Lord Sword Marquess."
"Hmm?"
An old man watering the flowers in the front yard of a humble house turned to look at me. Water trickled from his watering can.
"Who might you be, young one?"
"I am a knight bestowed with a title from Yuldoguk."
"What?"
A normal person would have called the police or at least swung a broom if a foreigner suddenly walked into their front yard claiming a title from a micronation.
"This one is my compatriot! Welcome!"
But, true to his nature, Sword Marquess was extraordinary. I had suspected he had been playing nobility since coming to Ulleungdo, but it seems he had lost his mind even before that.
"But your honorifics are strange. I am not Sword Marquess but Sword Man. Why have you come seeking me?"
I made the saddest face possible. Method acting wasn't particularly hard. It was easy to recall the scene when Dang Seo-rin died.
"Sadly, I must report that Yuldoguk has fallen."
"What?"
"The wicked reach of the Demonic Cult has extended even across the sea to Yeong-gil-ri. Not only Yuldoguk but also the eastern region of Yeong-gil-ri has been devastated, and the Archduke himself did not escape harm."
"No...! How could such a thing happen...!"
"Lord Sword Marquess."
Thud. I knelt in the courtyard. Then, with a solemnity unmatched in the world, I cried out.
"Though the court of Yuldoguk has fallen, how could we accept that the people should bear the grief of a ruined nation? Is it not loyalty to continue the nation with the remaining people?"
"...!"
"As you are now the only remaining noble of Yuldoguk, it is only fitting that you establish a new court on this land. But, as a person, I cannot forget the grace of the Archduke; please ascend to the title of duke and revive Duke's Nation!"
Incidentally, Sword Marquess's house was humble.
And a humble house was in a humble neighborhood.
And a feature of a humble neighborhood is that it's quite easy to peek over the fence when something unusual is happening next door. All the neighbors were looking this way.
Their gaze, in a nutshell, was like, uh, staring at a dick.
"Heaven has not yet abandoned me!"
Sword Marquess paid no mind to the neighbors' stares.
"Get up! How well you've understood my will!"
"I apologize."
"You, you are indeed like my eldest son!"
Basically, that meant best friends.
The 108th cycle.
That day, I became best friends with the prospective Sect Leader of the Mount Hua Sect.
Footnotes:
[1] Samhan, or Three Han, is the collective name of the Byeonhan, Jinhan, and Mahan confederacies that emerged in the first century BC during the Proto–Three Kingdoms of Korea, or Samhan, period. Located in the central and southern regions of the Korean Peninsula, the Samhan confederacies eventually merged and developed into the Baekje, Gaya, and Silla kingdoms. The name "Samhan" also refers to the Three Kingdoms of Korea.
[2] Li (Chinese: 里, lǐ, or 市里, shìlǐ), also known as the Chinese mile, is a traditional Chinese unit of distance. The li has varied considerably over time but was usually about one third of an English mile and now has a standardized length of a half-kilometer (500 meters or 1,640 feet or 0.311 miles).
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The Returnee III
David Hume once said that true friendship is not about the age of the individuals, but about the free exchange of souls.
From a young friend, one learns vitality, and from an old friend, wisdom. Immanuel Kant stated that it's not right to choose friends based on their age.
The most important thing to note here is that they never actually made these quotes.
But the nuance is conveyed, isn't it? Perhaps that's enough?
I too followed the 'nuance' in my friendship with Sword Marquess.
"Undertaker brother!"
"Sword Marquess elder!"
That day, we emptied four bottles of makgeolli and became sworn brothers.
It was a connection so profound that even if the three brothers of the Yu Family had witnessed it, they would have been engulfed in jealousy and gone into fits of 'Peach Chewing Anger' 500 times.
What am I talking about? Just… understand it through the nuance.
Our 'Makgeolli Pact' did not end as merely a night's amusement.
"Elder brother, I have something to confess."
"Hmm…?"
The next morning, I deeply bowed to Sword Marquess, who had checked the temperature of the grand hall with his own cheek, being utterly drunk.
"Confess? Uh... What are you talking about?"
"You revealed to me last night that you were a disciple directly taught by the leader of the Mount Hua Sect."
In truth, he had not.
However, Sword Marquess nodded as if it were the most natural thing.
"Ah, right."
"How could someone destined to be the leader of Mount Hua Sect merely seclude himself forever in a humble thatched cottage? You must return to Mount Hua, restore the pillars of the sect, though you seek tranquility, the world is in turmoil."
"What?"
Sword Marquess opened his mouth wide. His surprise was palpable.
For a while, Sword Marquess gave his stomach some fresh morning air in the front yard. More precisely, he let the dawn taste his stomach's air.
I could have described this scene in detail, but for the readers' sake, I will spare any visual or auditory imagery. Such is my boundless goodwill towards you.
"Huuuu."
The ordeal was skipped over, and only the result remained. Sword Marquess, having downed water from a plastic bucket (yes, the one usually hanging by the spring), looked at me seriously.
"Undertaker brother."
He seemed to be trying to emit a profound inner energy. In my personal opinion, it was more akin to the smell of his breath than his energy.
"Are you saying you will accompany me back to Mount Hua?"
"Exactly."
"While I am deeply grateful for that sentiment, the martial world is now a playground for the wicked Demonic Cult. The path of righteousness has been severed, and justice has collapsed. Villainy adorns itself with the pretense of chivalry. How can you guarantee our safe passage?"
"It is merely through benevolence that we will navigate this troubled world."
"...!"
Do you understand what I'm saying? I don't. But clearly, the nuance was there, and Sword Marquess seemed to grasp everything by just that.
He slapped his knee.
"Indeed! If it is a task that I cannot accomplish alone, then it shall be done with a brother! Having secluded myself for so long, I had forgotten even this simple truth!"
"Will you trust this brother?"
"Returning to Mount Hua has been my lifelong dream. Friendships that discuss benefits are precarious, but those that discuss wishes are steadfast. I trust only in you, brother."
What followed was a blur of action.
We left the island immediately. Sword Marquess had lived on Ulleungdo his entire life, but the belongings he had prepared were minimal. We were ready to set off within 40 minutes of deciding to leave.
What stood out about Sword Marquess's attire was a pouch tied around his waist.
"Elder brother, what is that?"
Sword Marquess stroked his beard magnanimously.
"The essence of the Mount Hua Sect."
It was the usual nonsense.
I shrugged and stepped onto the deck of the boat.
"Uweeek-"
Oh, and for your information, on the boat back to the mainland, Sword Marquess managed to share the aroma of his stomach with the waters of the East Sea.
At the same time, heaven and the sea were colored in his hue, such was indeed the grace of a true master.
And he wasn't even from Ulleungdo, was he? Even though he had drunk plenty of makgeolli, how could he suffer from seasickness? Such a disgrace for an islander.
"Uweeek...."
From Ulleungdo to Gangneung, from Incheon to Shanghai, everywhere we went by boat, Sword Marquess showcased a close bond with the ship's rail. Thanks to that, I had become quite skilled in patting Sword Marquess's back like a professional masseuse.
Sword Marquess awkwardly excused himself.
"When my energy center is disturbed, my stomach and duodenum suffer as well. Ahaha. It's embarrassing, I wasn't like this before."
Was the energy center connected to the stomach? Astonishing anatomical knowledge, as profound as researching what material makes up a unicorn's horn.
Just so you know, managing to find a boat to Shanghai was a miracle and an achievement of mine.
As you are well aware, when the Gate incident occurred (now that everyone is familiar with the terms, 'When the Void arrived' or 'When the Void manifested' would also be appropriate), everything south of the Han River in Seoul was blown away. Incheon was no exception.
There were as many people escaping by sea as there were fleeing by land. If it weren't for my extensive experience traveling abroad, I wouldn't have been able to find a captain in the chaotic port of Incheon.
"Oh."
After enduring countless hardships, dodging typhoons, and surviving complete chaos, we finally arrived in China.
Sword Marquess's eyes reddened.
"This is… the Central Plains...! Look! I have returned in triumph!"
It sounded as if the journey was over.
But I am the Infinite Regressor. I usually operate domestically, but having once called myself an internationalist, I had traveled to China numerous times. Even limited to Beijing, I had been there enough to get sick of it.
So I knew very well that the real hardship was just beginning.
Have you ever read Greek or Norse mythology?
You might have found yourself lamenting while exploring the myths of other nations, wondering, 'Why don't we have a well-structured mythology?'
I could go on at length about this, but that's not my intention right now.
Instead, what I really want to tell you is this:
'It's damn lucky we don't have one.'
I bring up myths for a reason.
Since the arrival of the Void, characters from those myths began stepping into reality.
They didn't just pop up as they were described in the myths. They were updated to be less intellectual, more Lovecraftian, and thus even more misanthropic.
Now you might guess why I considered India and Japan as the top dangerous spots for overseas travel.
It's not like India and Japan are the only Asian countries with a rich repository of mythological beings. Thailand and others also boast a significant cache of spirits, holding their own in terms of ghostly prestige.
But my point is, with Japan having invited eight million gods to descend upon them, solving their low birth rate and aging population issues overnight, they're in a better situation than most.
Places like India and Nepal, steeped in Hindu faith, let's just leave those out of this discussion for now.
Have you ever seen the Ganges and the Himalayas dyed red? It's quite a spectacle, but I'd rather not see it again.
That's what the end of the world looks like.
As the world together faces damnation, China wasn't going to be left out. They too were shouting, 'Me too! I want to play too!' boasting a formidable list of supernatural beings.
If you've been to a high-end Italian restaurant, you know they have a dazzling wine list. Similarly, China boasts menus like the Shan Hai Jing, the Shi Yi Ji, the Bo Wu Zhi, and the Shen Yi Jing.
It was indeed a transitional period for martial arts novels, moving from traditional martial arts to xianxia, and from xianxia to xuanhuan. Monsters and spirits that seemed out of place in traditional martial arts stories were embraced in xuanhuan as being youthful and trendy.
Obviously, being the cradle of martial arts, China was at the forefront of these trends.
Therefore, as the leader of this trip, I made a very rational decision.
"Let's not go straight to Mount Hua. Let's stop by Chang'an first."
"Hm? Why? Wouldn't that just be taking a detour?"
"There are extremely tricky monsters nearby. We need to move around them."
Avoidance. Pure and simple.
If you asked me to name the most difficult beings to deal with in China, I'd personally point out two.
'Chaos' and 'Greed.'
To my knowledge, tens of thousands of awakeners in China were destroyed by just these two creatures. And by tens of thousands, I mean closer to 100,000 than 20,000. Considering the civilian casualties, it was an uncountable number.
Even as the genre of the world shifted to xuanhuan, no human had yet achieved the realm of the immortals, a fitting testament to the tragedy that ensues.
"If we were fully prepared, maybe, but right now, taking them on is not a good idea."
"Hmm. If you say so, brother…"
When venturing into unfamiliar genres, it's wise to maintain proper decorum and distance. My genre, after all, was firmly contemporary fantasy.
I meticulously planned our travel route to avoid Chaos and Greed.
Instead, we frequently encountered other lesser demons, but I handled them all single-handedly on my end.
Sword Marquess watched my swordplay from behind, occasionally letting out exclamations of admiration.
"Your prowess is truly amazing! Equal to or perhaps even greater than me at my peak!"
"..."
Something deep within me stirred like the lava of Mount Hua, but I held it back.
"…Thank you. I still have much to learn. Please continue to guide me, elder brother."
It's wise to assign specific roles during a trip. You handle the hotels, I'll find the restaurants, and so on.
If roles are not well distributed in any travel, it quickly becomes tiresome. Anyone who has been on a long journey with family or a partner will immediately understand.
I, Undertaker, might not have shown it, but I prided myself on being a master of travelling. Naturally, I understood the importance of dividing responsibilities.
Thus, during our two-month journey, my responsibilities were as follows:
Planning travel routes, covering travel expenses, procuring food, scouting lodging, hiring locals, interpreting Chinese (the next Sect Leader of Mount Hua did not speak Chinese), carrying luggage, standing guard, and acting as bodyguard.
And what did Sword Marquess handle? Well… drinking?
Anyway. Among my roles, the most crucial was interpreting Chinese.
This was my first time visiting Mount Hua, and we inevitably relied on local guidance, especially since the main roads had been devoured by Chaos and Greed.
Whenever we passed through rural roads, locals looked at us curiously.
"A Korean? What brings a Korean here?"
"We're on our way to Mount Hua."
"Oh?"
"This gentleman here is my grandfather. He insists on seeing Mount Hua with his own eyes before he passes away. I'm an awakener who speaks Chinese, so I decided to fulfill his last wish by traveling here."
"Ah!"
Initially skeptical, the locals warmed up after hearing my explanation.
Incidentally, throughout the journey, Sword Marquess was carried on my back. It was unavoidable. If I had asked him to walk on his own, the trip would have taken 24 times longer. I'm not exaggerating.
"What a rare filial grandson, no, a filial great-grandson!"
"It's nothing. I lost my parents when I was young, and he raised me alone. I believe it's only right to repay him."
"In such a chaotic world, to think such people still exist! Well, I don't have much, but please take some peanuts. Our village peanuts are really tasty."
Indeed, filial piety is a magic pass that works anywhere in East Asia.
Despite their humble circumstances, local people in the countryside tried to offer me whatever they could. Village elders even tried to fill up buckets with peanuts, which I had to politely refuse. To show my gratitude, I cleared the nearby monsters like cutting weeds—true win-win.
Sword Marquess, still on my back, was amazed.
"I've heard the countryside has become stingy these days, but that's all nonsense. Isn't this kindness itself?"
"Well, if I had said you were the Sect Leader of Mount Hua and I was carrying you around, 99% of this kindness would have disappeared."
"Hm? Brother, what did you just say?"
"I didn't say anything."
Day 62 of our trip in China.
After countless twists and turns, including barely escaping a typhoon, we finally arrived at Mount Hua.
"Ah, finally… Mount Hua…!"
The designated 261st Sect Leader of Mount Hua exclaimed as if he were seeing it for the first time.
Of course, I didn't point that out. I was a respectful younger brother, merely posing a question.
"It was indeed a tough journey. I too am eager to see the grandeur of the sect where you trained. Where is the sect building?"
"Unfortunately, the main hall was destroyed 45 years ago by an attack from the Heavenly Demon."
'So there's no sect building, right? You were just making it up?' I could read between the lines, but the old man skillfully dodged the question. Clearly, a lifetime dedicated to playing a martial artist wasn't thwarted by such trivial interrogation.
"The entire brotherhood was slaughtered, and I had no choice but to flee. Now, it's hard to even find the ruins."
"So you don't know where it is?"
"The mountain scenery is truly serene, a real hidden gem."
My inquiry didn't even scratch the surface of the Sword Marquess's mental fortitude.
I shook my head and continued hiking.
Great mountains never flaunt their landscapes from the start but keep them hidden. Mount Hua, a renowned mountain, revealed its true beauty only when one ventured into its layers. With each step, it felt as if a folding screen was unfolding, expanding the scene with each pace.
I looked around the ridge.
"People have left, but the buildings are relatively intact."
Ah, and by buildings, I obviously didn't mean those of the Mount Hua Sect. I was referring to various facilities such as rest areas, stairs, snack bars, etc.
Before the Void arrived, these places were probably bustling with tourists. The cable car station looked clean and seemed like the perfect base camp.
I checked the warehouse just in case, but as expected, no food was left.
Well, being a living, breathing biofarm meant there was no need to worry about food during this trip.
"Elder brother, I will set up our base here."
"As you wish, brother."
I set down my backpack and also set down Sword Marquess (he had been using my back delivery service even while hiking).
Sword Marquess lay down on the floor of the rest area as if he had finally come alive.
"Ah, my old bones. After decades, coming back here, it seems I can't even walk around anymore."
Anyone would think he had climbed the mountain himself.
I took out bottled water, a burner, and ramen from my backpack and started cooking.
Just the single line of description about my actions here should give you an idea of how much I suffered during this trip. Yes, I carried Sword Marquess on my back while hugging a meter-tall backpack across the Chinese continent.
"Elder brother, the ramen is ready."
"Hmm."
The old man, who had been sprawled out on the floor, got up like a ghost and took the chopsticks.
After slurping down the ramen, Sword Marquess looked up at the ceiling of the rest area.
"Ah. As I've always said, the ramen you cook is truly a delicacy. I've met countless ramen masters in my life, but none can compare to you, brother."
"You flatter me."
"No, I'm serious. How do you bring out such a unique taste?"
Well, if you've been cooking ramen for over a hundred years, anyone would reach this level.
In fact, during the 45th cycle, I even became a chef. While I may not be the world's greatest chef, I was certainly the best at cooking with ingredients from the Void. Such is the seasoning of an Infinite Regressor.
"..."
Truly a useless skill.
"Burp. Thank you for the meal."
I shifted my thoughts. Anyway, what mattered now was not my ramen cooking skills, but how Sword Marquess would react from this point forward.
Throughout our journey, Sword Marquess had always murmured about how he had no other wish but to visit Mount Hua. In the past cycles, he always longed for Mount Hua.
A wish consistently held across time signifies the intensity of one's heart. It represents conviction.
As a regressor, I find few things as interesting as the human heart.
'And I have fulfilled his lifelong wish.'
Now that his wish was granted, only curiosity remained.
A regressor's curiosity, trivial and personal, yet of utmost importance in this world.
'What will Sword Marquess do now?'
Will he say it's time to return to the Korean peninsula now that his bucket list is complete? Or will he try to realize his delusion by building the Mount Hua Sect anew? Which will it be?
I quietly observed Sword Marquess. After patting his full belly, he stood up and stretched.
"Now that I'm full, it's time to get to work."
Let me mention in advance that all my predictions were wrong.
-x-X-x-
The Returnee IV
"Work? What are you talking about?"
"Hehe. I have plans of my own. Just watch, brother."
Sword Marquess then suddenly walked out of the rest area.
As for me, Undertaker, had I been one to just sit idly by when told to stay put, I would have given up on being a regressor long ago. Naturally, I followed Sword Marquess. The old man glanced back at me once but didn't try to stop me.
Even though the Sword Marquess had been terrible with directions before we reached Mount Hua, it was as if a navigation system had been installed and updated in his brain; he expertly navigated the mountain trails.
Just when I thought I should ask where exactly we were going, Sword Marquess squatted down.
"...?"
At first, I thought he was just tired from the climb and was taking a rest. But I was mistaken.
Sword Marquess was pulling something out of his pocket. As I approached and peered over, I saw that he had taken seeds from his pocket—a bag of seeds he must have treasured since leaving Ulleungdo.
He began placing the seeds into the soil within the crevices of the rocks.
"...?"
A question mark popped into my head. What exactly was he doing?
"Elder brother. What are you doing right now? Please explain this to me."
"Hehe. Reconstruction."
"Reconstruction?"
"Or restoration, if you want to add a poetic flavor, you could even call it regression."
Reconstruction. Restoration. Regression.
These were truly enigmatic words strung together.
But to my questions, Sword Marquess just chuckled and stroked his beard, not giving a clear answer. Instead of calming down, his response only fueled my curiosity, and I followed him relentlessly.
But following him felt fruitless as he continued the same actions repeatedly. He climbed the mountain trails, planted seeds, covered the sparse soil over the rocks, and gently patted down the small mounds of earth with his wrinkled palms.
The next day, and the day after that, he continued without end.
Really, what was he doing?
'He can walk well now!'
That was what baffled me the most. He had relied on my back while crossing the Central Plains, but now that we were at Mount Hua, he suddenly seemed full of energy and climbed the mountain too well. Had this old man been pretending to be weak all this time?
'Could he have been deceiving me…?'
It was not easy to lead an old body up and down a rocky mountain. Yet, Sword Marquess was up from dawn to dusk, walking nonstop.
He didn't even complain of muscle pain. As if the air of Mount Hua were gasoline for him, Sword Marquess moved around vigorously.
Curious, I even tried sitting cross-legged and practicing something akin to internal energy meditation, but whether it was the air of Gangnam or Mount Hua, my scientific experiments concluded neither contained any mystical ether.
-Roar!
"Ah, brother! Help me! A wicked demon from the Demonic Cult is trying to capture the sect leader of Mount Hua!"
And it certainly didn't look like 'weak cosplay' from any angle. Sword Marquess was truly, utterly frail. He couldn't even fend off a monster the size of a boar and always ended up running to me.
Like someone who had a strength stat of 99 in stamina but only 10 in combat, Sword Marquess's capabilities were extremely unbalanced.
"It's really strange…"
In the end, I had no choice but to continue following Sword Marquess and acting as his bodyguard.
After a while, I grew so tired of this routine that I simply eliminated all the monsters around Mount Hua.
I also went around the areas of Chang'an and Guanzhong, which is modern-day Shaanxi, hunting down other creatures. Thankfully, the locals were grateful and gave us plenty of food and clothes.
One week, two weeks, three weeks.
It was around the time when I began to be known among the people of Guanzhong as the "Taoist of Mount Hua," almost like a black comedy.
At each spot where Sword Marquess had planted seeds, sprouts began to emerge. Their growth rate was notably fast. It was clear that the ability that made Sword Marquess a grade-S awakened being, known as [Plant Growth], was at work.
"What kind of sprout is this?"
I muttered to myself since asking Sword Marquess would yield no proper answer.
It was clear—they weren't just any grass or flowers but 'trees.' However, my encyclopedic knowledge stopped there.
Even with my experience as a regressor, which meant I could recognize most plants, I wasn't knowledgeable enough in botany to identify the species just from these small saplings.
"Hey. What exactly are you?"
The sprouts, of course, offered no answer.
As late summer passed.
Sword Marquess's peculiar activities continued into early autumn and winter.
White snow settled on the ink-colored rocks of Mount Hua. In this ruined world, winter seemed to serve as a funeral rite for all life. As an undertaker ages, so does winter silently conduct the world's funerals.
Winter's touch was cold yet gentle. Life and civilization quietly bowed under its gaze. Rumors spread like snowflakes that a million civilians were buried under snow in Guanzhong within just a fortnight.
My range for hunting creatures gradually expanded. Not just in Shaanxi, but also to Henan.
'Tutorial dungeons' weren't just a phenomenon on the Korean Peninsula but occurred worldwide. Just my luck that an epic dungeon appeared in Yongjing in Henan.
Here, pseudo-sectarian terrorists from Taoist groups were also involved, making it feel like the end of an era.
What choice did I have? I had to help.
…Surely when I started the 108th cycle, this cycle was supposed to be a vacation. Somehow, even on vacation, I ended up working. Is this what they call being a workaholic?
To make an excuse, I had business in Henan anyway. There was an awakener who ran a guild called 'Baekwha' back on the Korean Peninsula, and their family originated from this area.
Thanks to that, I managed to gather some good information about them. I'll talk about that in a later episode.
Anyway.
Spring.
While all life bowed under winter's gaze, only the sprouts cared for by Sword Marquess stood boldly upright. The lives touched by his hands knew neither the season nor the climate; they grew even in adversity.
When the snow ceased, the small saplings that had once been tiny seeds had grown to my waist height. The trees bid farewell to winter a bit earlier than the rest of the world and greeted spring a bit sooner.
Their etiquette towards the seasons was to bloom in red, to dye the world crimson.
"Ah."
Only upon seeing this red did I realize the name of these plants.
Plum blossoms.
"...."
The old man had been planting plum blossoms on Mount Hua.
Residual snow still whispered, and Mount Hua's rocks were white.
The surface of the rocks, like white plates, neatly divided themselves half in red and half in pink as the plum blossoms modestly plated themselves.
This giant mountain served as a dish for a colorful, red feast prepared by a single shabby old man.
"It's time to start grafting."
The shadow of the old man delved into the mountain's shadow. With each step he delved deeper, the snowy mountain bled red.
Familiar with his movements, the old man broke off twigs from the plum trees. Then again, he planted them among the rocks, in the rugged depths of the valley, in the scarce soil. Amidst the harsh rocks, the plum blossoms spread like moss, but red moss.
"...."
After that, I limited my outings and spent more time with Sword Marquess.
The terrain of Mount Hua was rugged. Even though his physical strength seemed to have become boundless after arriving here, it was still difficult for the frail legs of the old man to cross the gaps and voids of Mount Hua. I willingly lent my back to Sword Marquess.
Crossing from cliff to cliff, Sword Marquess planted trees.
In the first spring, plum blossoms bloomed near the rest area.
The following year, red blossoms dyed the western peak of Mount Hua.
The giant was massive. The time it took for him to die, and thus the time it took for his blood to fully blossom, was endlessly slow compared to a human life.
Sword Marquess regulated the giant's time. He dictated not only his death but also the manner of his dying. Sword Marquess did not permit even nature's law of living in spring and dying in winter.
The blood shed by the giant flowed over three years, passing Jinshaiguan to the northern peak. His wounds bled for four years toward the central peak and then surged to the eastern peak the following year. All the directions of death and life were determined by Sword Marquess's footsteps and handprints.
Our 6th year on the mountain.
"...."
I stood on the roof of a pavilion on the southern peak of Mount Hua, looking down.
The heavens and earth were filled with plum blossoms.
Mount Hua had become a mountain of flowers.
Red and white flowers shyly intertwined down every sliding mountain ridge. The dark trunks of the plum trees languidly rested on the stones. The giant finally held its breath, and in front of its majestic blood-red death, people could only hold theirs.
Thus, without any metaphor, without any interpretation or explanation.
Plum blossoms bloomed on Mount Hua.
"It is done."
A single human had turned a proposition into truth.
To make a proposition bloom, it took six years of an old man's life and several hundred years of a regressor's.
And that proposition was beautiful.
"It is now done."
It was a foggy day.
When fog descended on Mount Hua, the rocks vanished from sight. The fog lived and moved. Only the bright red flowers barely managed to poke their heads above that opaque surface.
I too woke up and lifted my head.
The rest area where I had mostly eaten and slept over the past six years.
The Sword Marquess was not there.
"Elder brother?"
When no one responded to the call of 'brother,' I felt a premonition. I didn't even wash my face; I immediately got up and followed the traces of Sword Marquess.
The old man was far away, atop the southern peak, beyond a sea of fog.
And then I witnessed something unbelievable. At first, I thought Sword Marquess was rowing on the rocks because the thick fog spread out beneath his feet made it seem so.
But it was impossible for a man to row on a mountain. Looking closer, I saw that what Sword Marquess was stirring was not an oar but a sword—a wooden practice sword.
The old man was dancing a sword dance.
"...."
It was a sword dance because of the dance-like movements with the sword, and also a sword mist because the mountain's fog twisted and whirled with every movement of the sword. The dull blade of the practice sword, like the old man's wrinkled hands once dyed the giant red, seemed to control all the mountain's fog.
The old man whirled the world's fog as if it were his own sleeve.
In that moment, I knew I would never forget this scene.
"...."
Rustle.
Somewhere, the sound of snow sliding down was faintly heard.
Was it the Sword Marquess stepping on the snow? Maybe. The whole world was wrapped in fog, making it hard to see ahead. Only the sounds and smells distinctly touched the skin.
In the fog, the flowers chattered, and this chattering breathlessly exhaled the scent of plum blossoms into the sky. Or, perhaps, just maybe, the scent of plum blossoms spread from the tip of the old man's sword.
The wind blew. Vast waves of fog enveloped the peak entirely.
"Elder brother?"
Slower than the flow of the tide, the fog rolled in and out.
The white rocks and red plum blossoms revealed their forms again.
But the Sword Marquess was nowhere to be seen.
"Elder brother!"
No answer came back.
Only the echo of 'brother - brother - brother' resounded, soon buried by the chatter of the plum blossoms.
"...."
Suddenly, the world became still.
From the swept-away Mount Hua, only the scent of plum blossoms flowed and spread far into the distance.
Should I call this an epilogue?
There remains one somewhat strange story.
After Sword Marquess disappeared, I naturally set out to look for him. However, I ultimately failed to find him.
If he had fallen and died somewhere in the mountains, there should have been a body, or at least some trace of it. Even if wild animals had scavenged it, there should have been some remains, but no matter how much I searched Mount Hua, no trace of Sword Marquess was found.
An utterly absurd disappearance.
'...Could he really have ascended to immortality?'
For a moment, I even entertained such a suspicion.
But it was impossible. Sword Marquess was just an old man who had never learned any martial arts. If he had truly reached a transcendent state as he claimed, I would have recognized it. Hadn't I carried him on my back for over 60 days during our time together, not to mention the six years we spent together?
Later, when I returned to the Korean Peninsula, I even obtained documents to confirm it. Sword Marquess was definitively, undoubtedly born in Ulleungdo, Korea.
People from the same neighborhood as Sword Marquess didn't have very detailed memories of him.
"Oh, that old man?"
"I've seen him occasionally. What? He was in our neighborhood decades ago? I don't remember that far back..."
"He seemed to come and go, appeared and disappeared, you know?"
In any case, Sword Marquess was born in Ulleungdo. Various certificates and records proved this.
If Sword Marquess really had been the next sect leader of the Mount Hua Sect and had finally become an immortal and ascended, then—there would be too much to explain.
First, he would have had to travel to China from Ulleungdo no later than when he was 15 years old. Then, during his childhood, he would have become a direct disciple of the sect leader of Mount Hua.
Sword Marquess was over sixty-five at the time of his disappearance. He had testified before we crossed over to China that Mount Hua Sect was attacked by the Heavenly Demon 45 years ago.
At the time of the Demonic Cult's attack on Mount Hua Sect, Sword Marquess had to have been maintaining his status as a direct disciple of the sect leader. So, by no later than 15 years of age, he must have been receiving the expectations of the sect's disciples as the next sect leader... Was that even possible?
What percentage of probability would one have to defy for such a miracle to occur?
Why would a young Korean child born on Ulleungdo end up at Mount Hua Sect in China in the first place?
I had never heard of Mount Hua Sect, a staple in martial arts novels, actually existing in reality during my time as a regressor. Let alone the Heavenly Demon? The Demonic Cult?
It was an absurd hypothesis. There was no need to consider it; it was merely a ludicrous tale. I decided to discard the theory of 'Sword Marquess = Mount Hua Sect Leader' under a very rational judgment.
However, later on, past the 200th cycle, a very strange incident occurred.
"Sir."
"Hmm?"
"I'm sorry to ask, but could you spare some food?"
At this time, I was walking through Incheon's Chinatown with the Sword Marquess.
The person who called us 'sir' and asked if we had any food was Chinese. He probably mistook us for fellow Chinese because of Sword Marquess's long white beard.
"Ah-"
As revealed during our travels in the 108th cycle, I was the only one among us who spoke Chinese. I thought about how to answer without embarrassing the other party, hoping to respond in Chinese before the old man next to me could create an awkward situation.
And then it happened.
"Of course."
Before I could even open my mouth, fluent Chinese came from beside me.
Shocked, I quickly turned my head. There was the Sword Marquess, naturally speaking Chinese, responding to the young man who had approached us.
"I don't have much, but how could I not fulfill a simple request from a passerby?"
"You mean 'sect leader'?"
"I just happened to be buying dumplings over there. It's not much, but take this and quench your thirst."
"Ah... Thank you, sir! I will never forget this kindness!"
"...."
My mouth hung open, refusing to close.
The astonishment continued until the Chinese young man who had taken the vegetable dumplings from Sword Marquess disappeared from sight. I barely managed to collect myself and grabbed Sword Marquess's slender shoulder.
"Wait a minute, Sword Marquess. Just a moment."
"Hmm?"
"Sword Marquess, did you know how to speak Chinese?"
Sword Marquess blinked.
"Chinese? What are you talking about?"
"What? Didn't you just speak Chinese! With that young man earlier!"
"I don't understand what you mean."
Sword Marquess blinked in genuine confusion, as if he truly didn't understand.
"Why are you acting like this all of a sudden, Undertaker? I didn't say anything. I just handed him the dumplings."
"No. Wow. No."
As if I, Undertaker, would fall for such a trick.
I immediately dragged Sword Marquess around Chinatown, trying to find the young man we had just seen or to strike up a conversation with other Chinese people, but it was all in vain.
Sword Marquess seemed genuinely unable to understand Chinese, complaining loudly.
"Ah! To think that a young martial brother would oppress me like this! There is no nationality in chivalry. Even if my language skills are lacking, my level is higher than anyone else's!"
"...."
In the end, not a single word of Chinese came from Sword Marquess's mouth. He wasn't lying.
Really, wasn't it enough to drive a ghost to despair?
To this day, I am not sure whether Sword Marquess really became an immortal and left this world in the fog of Mount Hua, whether he fluently conversed with a Chinese man in Incheon's Chinatown, or whether it was all just my illusion and hallucination.
I only learned one fact.
The martial world is indeed full of extraordinary and eccentric characters.
-x-X-x-
The Survivor I
Excuse me, but what do you feel when you hear words like 'Student Council' or 'Student Council President' in creative works?
You might wonder why I'm asking such an abrupt question.
It's because it's relevant to this story.
As mentioned at the end of the last story, the martial world is full of eccentrics.
The person I will introduce today is also an eccentric, proudly placing her name among the 'Great Figures Who Illuminated the Korean Peninsula.'
In the distant past, South Korea used to boast about having certain football players and idols.
However, even if civilization collapses, history tends to progress. Now, nations compare their pride based on how spectacular their awakeners are, and the Korean Peninsula has never been left behind.
From the 'Grand Witch who forces her subordinates to wear conical hats 365 days a year on a train' to the 'Marquess who turns Mount Hua into a mountain of flowers,' and so on.
It was a lineup that could not help but make one's heart swell with pride. Is this really the state of the Korean Peninsula?
This land, which could even be described as a haven for lunatics, or rather, great figures, has not ceased to be blessed. There was yet another figure I had not had a chance to introduce.
Name, Cheon Yo-hwa.
Occupation, reflecting the trend that it's tough to get by on just one job these days, a multi-awakener juggling multiple jobs.
First job, high school student.
As the nation collapsed, so did public education, reducing children who register on internet communities to unemployed, unable to select 'elementary/middle/high school student' as their occupation.
In that sense, Cheon Yo-hwa was one of the last high school students left in the Korean Peninsula. Roughly equivalent to a high school 6th grader.
This alone would be considered a rare occupation of SSR-grade in games, but their other job was a bit more unique.
Second job, Necromancer.
Cheon Yo-hwa was the only necromancer on the Korean Peninsula.
Since we're on the topic of high school, the Korean Peninsula no longer had 'school ties.'
It was inevitable. What good does a fancy university degree do if monsters don't care about your education when they eat you?
However, human systems don't change easily. If there's no bread, eat cake; if there are no football players, suck up to awakeners instead of athletes; and in place of school ties, a new form of connection was quickly installed.
"Hmm?"
One day, as I was making my rounds in the guild, I witnessed a shocking scene.
"Wow, really?"
"Yes, really. Ahaha."
It was Seo Gyu and Sim Ah-ryeon (the villain OldManGoryeo) laughing together while having lunch in a restaurant.
As everyone knows, Seo Gyu had anger management issues and Sim Ah-ryeon was a serious social media addict.
Both of them had a bit of a flaw in their DNA that made establishing close relationships with other homo sapiens a bit of a challenge.
It was a scene reminiscent of a hippo and a crocodile amiably sipping from the same oasis waterhole, and, as any reasonable person who witnesses a miracle, I too was overwhelmed with curiosity.
"When did you two become friends?"
Blink, blink.
The question from their guild leader, who was as eminent as the sky, made them look at each other.
"Us?"
"Yeah, we've just been friends…"
Are they dating?
In my mind, two spirits clashed: the old-school desire to frown upon workplace romances and the old-school joy of watching young love.
"No, hyung, whatever you're thinking, it's definitely not that…"
"So how did you become friends?"
"How we became friends?"
Seo Gyu spoke as if it were obvious.
"Well, we're both from 'Busan Station.'"
"What."
Indeed.
Nowadays, instead of school ties, awakeners sized each other up by which 'Void' they were in when they awakened.
If we had to give it a name, maybe Void Connection? It was a connection related to place, so it was still a form of connection.
Seo Gyu, Sim Ah-ryeon, and I, we all awakened at Busan Station. Even the one who shall not be named, the Master of Hypnosis 'G,' was from Busan Station. Later on, by the 555th cycle, Oh Dok-seo also joined the Busan Station awakener family.
"You don't mean... the awakeners are treating Busan Station like some kind of prestigious university, do you?"
"Why not? Of course, we receive that kind of treatment. Hyung, we're number one in the Void."
"...…"
I was shocked.
You little brats, without me, all of you would have been stranded at Busan Station or dead in a monster's stomach within three weeks!
In fact, all those from Busan Station died by the third cycle. Even Seo Gyu, the fastest man, set a record for the shortest escape by the 50th cycle.
These little twerps… prestigious?
"Hey, you wet-behind-the-ears kids. What kind of ridiculous void connection is that! If you have time for such nonsense, you should be focusing on aura training, you're really showing off."
"Hyung, why does every word you say sound so seasoned…"
"That's strange, isn't it? If it weren't for that, you probably would have been quite popular…"
Even as their guild leader lectured them, their faces remained nonchalant.
'Ah, the old man is at it again,' their expressions seemed to say.
My head spun and I struggled to breathe. I'm the Infinite Regressor. Destined (or not) to save the world. Should I really be treated like this?
"Guild leader... I think it's natural to consider the Void Connection."
"What are you talking about, Ah-ryeon?"
"..."
Sim Ah-ryeon's expression changed to 'Ah, the old man is trying to follow old trends again,' but she quickly shrank back under my gaze.
"Well, it's terrifying when you first drop into the Void...? Phones don't work, bizarre creatures keep popping up, people are dying left and right... The Void Connection is about comrades who have struggled through the same hellish ordeal together. Wouldn't that make you feel a deep bond...?"
"Hmm."
"It's not just our guild, I think all guilds would feel the same way..."
Upon hearing it again, Sim Ah-ryeon's logic didn't seem so absurd.
"I didn't struggle, though?"
"...…"
"Why? Got something to say, Ah-ryeon?"
"No, guild leader..."
I spoke jokingly, but I was actually serious. This was the decisive reason why I could not sympathize with the latest trend of Void Connections.
Yes, I didn't feel like I suffered in the same place, at the same time as these guys.
I struggled alongside Old Man Scho.
To me, the Void was less 'Busan Station' and more this 'world' itself.
Challenge, die, regress, and challenge again. A dungeon striving for completion through countless cycles.
Therefore, I could only feel a strong camaraderie with Old Man Scho, who had a regressor's skill just like me.
Of course, now there was no such thing as camaraderie. When the hell was this no-show old-timer going to return from his leave? I might as well smack him dead.
"Just out of curiosity, which is the most famous connection spot among awakeners?"
"Huh? Busan Station."
"No, not that one."
"Not that one? Umm..."
Sim Ah-ryeon grunted before responding.
"...Then, perhaps, Baekwha Girls' High School?"
"Ah."
Baekwha Girls' High School.
A private school by that name existed.
Perhaps some of you have heard of the school name. Whenever posts like 'List of Schools with the Prettiest Uniforms in Korea' popped up on internet communities, Baekwha Girls' High was often mentioned.
I don't know if the uniforms are actually pretty since I'm not interested in uniforms.
But I could admit that they were objectively unique.
Our uniforms here feature traditional sailor outfits, rare in Korea.
-Our uniform's ribbon is the pride of Baekwha!
Such a ridiculous phrase was passed down among students through generations, a truly curious tradition.
In the neighboring Japan, this style of uniform was still actively flaunted, but the trend of sailor suits, despite their naval inspirations, never crossed the Korea Strait.
Yet, Baekwha Girls' High adopted the J-uniform (strictly speaking, it originated in Britain) for a surprisingly simple reason.
The school itself was built during the 1920s under Japanese colonial rule.
Baekwha Girls' High boasted a rather long history. And like most schools of its kind, to its alumni, it was regarded as a 'prestigious high,' but to outsiders, it was seen as 'Hmm, is that all?'
In short, other than the fact that the uniform was a sailor suit and they had a boarding system, it was a common humanities high school widespread in South Korea.
In such an ordinary school, there was a boarding house, but students were advised by seniors not to enter unless necessary. The number of students admitted to prestigious universities was somewhat short compared to its long history, so during the college entrance exam season, the granite school gates were even more clamorously and fervently adorned with banners celebrating admissions to (especially) Seoul National University.
-Huh? Why won't the gate open?
-The security guard isn't here either. Let's ask a teacher.
The Void arrived.
-Huh?
-Wait. Where are the teachers?
-What's going on...?
The school gates closed.
It was a typical closed-type Void.
However, the duration of closure was not typical. The gates of Baekwha Girls' High did not open for 11 months.
That year, Baekwha Girls' High did not produce a single university entrance exam passer.
In the nearly year-long closed environment, I don't know what tragedies the students of Baekwha Girls' High might have suffered.
I was an outsider, after all.
All I could gather were the 'numbers' observed from the outside.
About 750 students enrolled.
After 11 months, 19 survivors.
After 12 months, 17 survivors. Two had committed suicide.
"Ah, it was actually a bit longer than 11 months!"
I had the chance to talk to a survivor much later, and this is what they testified.
"It was longer?"
"Yep-Yep. You know, sometimes the flow of time changes, right? Space shifts wildly too. Ahaha. I guess our school was one of those cases!"
The survivor's face seemed uncreased. I once heard that when people accept unhappiness, they do so either with their faces or with their hearts.
"So, how long did you feel you were trapped in the school?"
"Ah, four years!"
Some might call this a tragedy.
Out of over 750 trapped, only 19 survived, and of those, two more took their own lives.
But I dare say it was an 'achievement.'
In my first regression at Busan Station, I was the only survivor. There were plenty of cases where everyone trapped in a Void perished.
That ordinary high school students, completely isolated from the outside in a jar of solitude, enduring what felt like four years but was 11 months, and surviving in double digits—it was almost a miracle, wasn't it?
"Hey, a miracle? Undertaker sunbae, you're exaggerating—"
And in the center of all miracles, there's always a hero.
Thank you for the clarification. Let's correct that part about Cheon Yo-hwa:
In this case, the unique and foremost necromancer of the Korean Peninsula, the awakener we will focus on today, Cheon Yo-hwa, was that heroine.
"Go, go Baekwha Girls' High! Fighting!"
"Fighting—!"
The 17 survivors rallied around Cheon Yo-hwa.
…No, to speak more objectively, more precisely, the description above needs to be revised.
Cheon Yo-hwa made the 17 survivors rally around her.
I may mention it in another episode, but Cheon Yo-hwa had such a talent.
Interpersonal skills. Organizational formation skills. The skill to read and manipulate human psychology. The skill to break down the walls around a person's heart. The skill to choose the appropriate space and time. Mediation skills. The skill to resolve conflicts within the organization and project unresolved conflicts outward.
Cheon Yo-hwa wielded all these abilities as if she had been bestowed with them from a divine moment.
As a result.
"President."
"Student Council President."
"President Cheon Yo-hwa."
To the survivors of Baekwha Girls' High, 'Baekwha' was no longer just the name of their alma mater.
It was a school connection, a place connection. According to modern trends, it was a Void Connection, and perhaps even stronger than a blood relation.
Over four years, Cheon Yo-hwa secured 17 awakeners who would throw their lives away for her on the street.
And with them, she stepped back into the world.
-x-X-x-
The Survivor II
"Vice guild leader, could you come see me for a moment?"
I first became aware of Baekwha Girls' High during my fifth cycle, back when I was still living as Dang Seo-rin's right hand in Samcheon.
"Yes, guild leader. What's the matter?"
"Nothing major, just some new information. Have you ever heard of Baekwha Girls' High?"
A black cat, a witch's essential item as per Dang Seo-rin, was rubbing against my legs at that time.
"No, I haven't heard of it."
"Hmm. Well, there's this school called Baekwha Girls' High. It was swallowed whole by a Gate for about a year? But it opened last week."
"A year, you say. Then there must be no survivors."
As always, I made judgments based on sound reasoning and healthy intellect.
Dang Seo-rin's voice lowered.
"That's... not entirely true."
"Really?"
"It's not precise, but apparently, about 20 people survived."
I widened my eyes.
"Twenty? Are you sure?"
"Yes... I'd like to assert confidently, but I don't know for sure. It's still just rumors at this point. The information I have is 'the Gate was closed for a year,' 'there are about 20 survivors,' 'all those trapped were high school students.'"
"Even high school students."
I was astounded.
As I've said, even as a regressor, I needed three cycles to clear Busan Station, and even then, I was the only survivor.
Both Dang Seo-rin and I could agree that the survival rate at Baekwha Girls' High was astonishing.
"Guild leader. If that's true..."
"Yes. It means among the survivors there might be an extraordinary talent, a once-in-a-generation awakener."
Dang Seo-rin reached out and stroked the black cat, which shivered.
"That's why I'd like you, vice guild leader, to go there yourself and investigate. Check if the rumors are true, and if they are, see if there really is such an awakener, and if there is—"
"We should recruit them into our guild."
"Exactly."
"Understood. I'll make sure to scout them before other guilds start sniffing around."
"Good. Oh, and one more thing."
Dang Seo-rin added offhandedly.
"If their character is seriously flawed, we don't necessarily have to recruit them."
Looking back, our Witch might have had the gift of prophecy.
Really, it was something one could have predicted.
Even healthy adults, once they've been trapped in a Void, often turn loopy. What then of high school students, at the peak of their emotional years, experiencing a long-term real-life horror game?
As soon as I arrived at the 'Guild Headquarters' of Baekwha Girls' High, I began to sense the answer.
"...Is this supposed to be a guild building?"
Crows cawed.
Like the Saintess who lived in an aquarium temple and Dang Seo-rin who stayed on a train, awakeners with unique mental worlds always had distinctively designed homes. Baekwha Girls' High was no different.
Baekwha Girls' High was, quite literally, using an actual school building as its guild lair.
(Congratu) Seo.,; University 2 Admitted! (lations)
The banner hung on the school gate was tattered.
The character for 'Seoul' in 'Seoul National University' was completely worn through, although it could have been Seokang or Seokyeong University, so it couldn't be confirmed without observation.
The sports field looked as if it had been bombarded by meteors, deeply pocked here and there. The net of the football goal was so tangled that even Alexander the Great would shake his head in dismay.
The highlight was the dormitory and school buildings, where the walls had crumbled down, exposing the bare steel framework.
'Isn't this just an abandoned school?'
I wasn't the protagonist of a horror game. Therefore, I hesitated, unsure whether I should really enter.
"Hello. What brings you here?"
"Ah, well...?"
As I stood awkwardly at the gate, the guards approached.
And, well... the guards looked quite unique.
Frankly, their heads were smashed in.
"..."
In other words, zombies.
The guard was exposing his skull to the world, yet his demeanor towards me was very polite. If he had been wearing a motorcycle helmet, I wouldn't have known he was a zombie.
"I'm sorry, but if you don't have business here, please leave. This is a private school. Outsiders cannot enter casually."
"Uh, um."
Even as a seasoned regressor, I found it hard to know what to say in this situation.
Were they not monsters? Should I attack them on sight?
"...I'm here from the Samcheon World Guild."
"Samcheon World? Guild?"
The zombie guard tilted his head.
"Where is that?"
"Um... it's the most prominent guild in Busan, actually."
Wait, why am I explaining things to a monster?
Suddenly gaining insight, I composed myself.
"I'm here to see someone in charge. Is she available?"
"Ah, the Student Council President's guest, I see."
Student Council President?
"She's in class right now, so she can't come out immediately."
"Class?"
"Yes. It's a school here. Naturally, the students are in class at this time."
"..."
At that point, I had an inkling.
A very, very familiar sense of foreboding.
It was similar to the unease that had crept over my entire body when I joined Samcheon after Dang Seo-rin's recruitment proposal, only to find out, 'Oh, by the way, anyone who joins our guild must wear a witch hat regardless of the place.'
Over my many cycles as a regressor, I had developed a sixth sense.
The so-called 'twist sense,' a sensory organ exclusive to regressors.
Whenever a certain level of quirkiness was detected, a tingling sensation would shoot up from the coccyx to the cervical spine. Particularly now, the warning bells were ringing in the fourth cervical vertebra, whereas when I met Dang Seo-rin, it had only reached the sixth thoracic vertebra, indicating a seriously unusual level of quirkiness.
'Should I run?'
If I had been just a bit more experienced, I would have definitely retreated following my body's alarm.
But in my fifth cycle, I was foolishly upright, clinging to a pointless justification that I couldn't just abandon a mission entrusted with full authority by Dang Seo-rin.
"...I see. How long should I wait for the class to end?"
"Hmm."
The guard turned to look at a clock.
It was a giant clock installed on the school's outer wall, fitting seamlessly into the surroundings in design, which meant the clock hands were broken and it wasn't working at all.
Yet, like me with a sixth sense, the zombie guard seemed to effortlessly tell the time from the broken clock.
"Just about 15 minutes until break time. It's a bit awkward to keep a guest waiting... Would you like to come in and wait?"
"I'll just stay here."
I responded immediately. I didn't want to step beyond this gate if I could avoid it. Although I didn't flee outright, I did take my spinal reaction into account to some extent.
The guard shrugged.
"Sure? Well, suit yourself."
It didn't take long for my judgment to prove very correct.
"Ding-dong-dang-dong."
"…?"
I looked at the guard.
Note that I just described the sound effect in quotation marks (""). This 'ding-dong-dang-dong' was not a bell sound. It wasn't a chime from a speaker or a bell tower.
The guard, a zombie with a shattered skull, was making the sound with his mouth and throat.
"Ding-dong-dang-dong."
"..."
At that sight, my third cervical vertebra buzzed.
Just as mice scurry about before an earthquake, my cervical spine's premonition was not wrong. From the school building, more accurately the abandoned school building, zombies swarmed out.
"Ding-dong-dang-dong."
"Ding-dong-dang-dong."
The zombies, all in uniforms, specifically, Baekwha Girls' High uniforms, were moving their lips and chanting 'ding-dong-dang-dong.'
"..."
I shuddered.
'Run.'
But it was too late.
"Did you say you were looking for me?"
Among the hundreds of zombies, a perfectly alive human walked out, dressed in the same white uniform as the zombies.
Her hair styled in a ponytail, dyed orange.
Such a hair color would surely stand out in a traditional private school, perhaps even garnering some kind of support among the students, as if a student had been called out of class because a guest had arrived.
"Who are you?"
That was Cheon Yo-hwa.
"...Hello. I am the vice guild leader of the Samcheon World Guild from Busan."
"Huh? Guild? Vice guild leader?"
Cheon Yo-hwa tilted her head, a reaction that could be seen as quite cute in isolation.
The problem was in her eyes.
Cheon Yo-hwa's eyes lacked focus. It was as if her irises and pupils were indistinguishable, her eyes appearing like wells steeped in dark shadows.
"What's that? I've never heard of it."
"Uh... I see. Well, a guild is a group of awakeners."
"Awakeners?"
"...Awakeners, you know, are people with special abilities."
Cheon Yo-hwa blinked.
In response, my third cervical vertebra also blinked, quite ferociously.
"Special abilities? What's that? Are you some kind of otaku?"
"No, I... Excuse me, but may I ask your name?"
"Ah, it's Cheon Yo-hwa."
At this, she bowed politely again.
And I somewhat relaxed at this 'normal-seeming response.' Inevitably, I've always had a soft spot for polite people. It was the same with Go Yuri.
From there, a parade of verbal slip-ups erupted from me. At the time, I was blissfully unaware of them.
"I am the student council president here."
"Um, haven't you awakened any abilities, Ms. Cheon Yo-hwa? I'm not sure what they are, but the abilities of people here, like that guard or the zombies roaming the sports field, are affiliated with this place—"
"Zombies?"
Fatal slip-up number 1.
"Yes, your ability is very powerful. Whether you've turned the [dead] into zombies or even the living into zombies, I'm not sure."
"...Dead bodies?"
Fatal slip-up number 2.
"With your abilities and those of the guild members here, you could secure a much better environment than this. In Samcheon World, we don't make empty promises. You wouldn't have to struggle in this crumbling, wall-less [abandoned school]."
"..."
Fatal slip-up number 3.
"Of course, I'm not suggesting we do anything about it right now. Just sparing some time to schedule an appointment, we could arrange a proper visit from our side—"
"Please leave."
"Excuse me?"
"Leave our school now."
Only then did I realize the silence around us.
The guard who had reacted like a living person, the zombies that had gathered on the sports field, the real students mingled among them, and Cheon Yo-hwa herself in front of me.
All were staring blankly at me.
"..."
"No, don't leave."
Cheon Yo-hwa grabbed my wrist.
"We were actually short on guards. Yes, this is perfect. Sir, would you like to [work] at our school? As a guard. Yes, that would be nice."
"..."
"Or you could [transfer] here. The basketball team juniors were just complaining about the low number of new students."
My second cervical vertebra jolted with a disk-like sensation.
Even I, in my fifth cycle, naive as I was, could recognize that this was a dire situation. I promptly shook off Cheon Yo-hwa's grip and fled without hesitation.
I fully expected the 'enemies' to chase after me. It was a rational judgment and thus a mistaken one.
The entities affiliated with Baekwha Girls' High did not pursue me.
Looking back, they hadn't moved a step beyond the school gate.
"..."
The fence that separated the school from the outside was partially broken down, but the zombies, as if facing an invisible wall, never crossed the boundary of the school.
Just behind the gate, just beyond the fence, hundreds of gazes clung to the wall like cicadas, staring blankly in my direction.
"Ding-dong-dang-dong."
"Ding-dong-dang-dong."
"Ding-dong-dang-dong."
The sound of bells echoed across the schoolyard. The zombies turned back.
"Ah, break time is over."
Cheon Yo-hwa muttered expressionlessly and shuffled toward the school entrance with the zombies, a mix of actual humans and zombies, though honestly, it was hard to tell the difference.
They seemed not so much individual entities as a collective organism.
The sports field quickly returned to silence.
Listening closely, I could hear voices leaking from the school building in the distance. English. In another classroom, the sound of a math lesson could be heard.
Astonishingly, the members of Baekwha Girls' High, including the zombies, were 'attending classes' inside the school building.
"...This is insane."
That was my first encounter with Cheon Yo-hwa.
First contact with aliens, failed.
"These kids are insane."
Dang Seo-rin, having received my report, reached the same conclusion.
"Sometimes you get such crazies. How about it, vice guild leader? Any chance they might harm civilians? If so, we might need to intervene."
"I can't be certain yet, but it seems we needn't worry about civilian casualties. They seem to be nesting in the abandoned school and don't venture out."
"Hmm, is that so?"
Dang Seo-rin made a perfectly rational decision based on my advice.
"Then let's not bother them unless absolutely necessary. No need to stir up a hornet's nest."
"That's a wise decision."
"Yes. I'm always wise."
"The conical hat."
"The perfect ornament to crown my profound wisdom."
Samcheon World cleanly washed their hands of the matter.
But the world wasn't made up only of rational humans.
Human quirkiness was like the king of fruits, durian.
No matter how tightly you seal it in a box, it asserts its overwhelming presence to everyone around.
Not long after I had been thoroughly chastened and returned, awakeners across the Korean Peninsula began to take notice of Baekwha Girls' High.
"A Necromancer? A magic-user awakener?"
"Even controlling hundreds of corpses at will?"
"That's an absolute superstar newbie."
"Recruit them! Whatever it takes, whatever the conditions, bring them over!"
In the era of humanpunk, where all resources are replaced by human assets, even if other resources failed, corpses were abundantly available, making the profession of a Necromancer inherently attractive.
Of course, I knew that this overflowing charm was akin to Pandora's Box. That is, as soon as you open it, expect Santa Claus to deliver disasters worldwide.
"Ladies and gentlemen, that place is as good as a den of the Void. I strongly recommend against entering."
"Is Samcheon afraid of our guild's progress?"
"Let them be. They failed to recruit, so they're just throwing shade at us. Ignore it, ignore."
Foolishly, the guild leaders disregarded my friendly advice.
Blinded by the emergence of a top-tier talent, they lost their senses.
"Wow! Not some fake virus but a real Necromancer controlling a legion of zombies!"
"Move... everyone move! With a dark mage, we might even break Dang Seo-rin's monopoly!"
With the biggest guild, Samcheon World, declaring they'd sit out this free agent season, other guild leaders rushed in like mad.
They carefully selected the most charismatic emissaries from their guilds and sent them off, furiously tapping the 'recruit' button.
The only difference between the other emissaries and me was the presence or absence of spinal nerves.
"Uh... why aren't these guys coming back from Baekwha Girls' High?"
"Same for you? Our guild members have gone completely silent."
No matter how long the guild leaders waited, their emissaries did not return.
Exhausted, those who visited Baekwha Girls' High in person witnessed a startling sight.
"Hey, why are you working here?"
"What? I'm just a regular guard."
"What?"
The talents dispatched by the guilds had all been employed, in reverse, at Baekwha Girls' High.
Even during their job interviews, some had holes drilled into their skulls, and the new guards seemed to have discharged their cerebrospinal fluid along with their memories of their former lives. They didn't even recognize their former guild leaders.
When you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes back into you. Sending new talents to recruit and instead losing existing talents is always a possibility. However, the guild leaders were too underdeveloped in character to accept such truths.
"What the fuck... No, this won't do. Destroy them!"
And those who seek to destroy others must always be prepared to be destroyed themselves.
The guilds that vowed revenge and charged into Baekwha Girls' High all succeeded in 'getting employed,' thus significantly reducing the unemployment rate on the Korean Peninsula during this job crisis.
"What the hell... What is that?"
"It turns out Undertaker was right!"
"They should never be messed with."
"Fuck, did you see what they eat in that school cafeteria? Human flesh! They're sitting there eating people! Crazy fucks."
"Fuck, they weren't unappetizing fruit; they were inedible zombies."
But by then, it was too late.
Pandora's Box had been opened.
Baekwha Girls' High reached a temporary state of saturation. Suddenly having an influx of new guards made sense; even for a prestigious school boasting history and tradition, 136 guards felt a bit excessive.
The unplanned personnel increase inevitably burdened Baekwha Girls' High's financial operations.
If Cheon Yo-hwa had been a typical corporate CEO, she would have implemented the three great swords of business—'staff cuts,' 'mass layoffs,' 'restructuring.'
But Cheon Yo-hwa was anything but typical. She decided that now was the time to push an aggressive merger policy.
"Uh, uh?"
"Why are they increasing?"
Literally, the 'school' was expanding.
More precisely, the school's boundaries were gradually extending.
The building that had been in front of Baekwha Girls' High had become a 'tteokbokki shop' and a 'convenience store.' Not that they really sold tteokbokki there.
"Hello, boss. Please give me two servings of tteokbokki and three dumplings!"
A zombie student would say.
"Since our student is so pretty, I added an extra dumpling."
The zombie boss would reply.
No actual goods were exchanged. The zombie student handed over invisible money, and the zombie boss handed over invisible tteokbokki. And both were happily smiling.
At least that was relatively normal.
Sometimes, after handing over invisible money, they would receive 'human flesh tteokbokki.'
The snack bar in front of the school was always filled with the laughter of students. During lunch and after school, the shops thrived. This was truly creative economics.
"Hello! I'm Cheon Yo-hwa, the student council president of Baekwha Girls' High!"
"Eek...! Save me!"
"Ah, wait a moment. Our students are very interested in off-campus experiential learning lately! Aren't you interested in working with our school?"
"I'm not interested! Go away!"
"Thank you!"
"..."
The guilds that had settled around Baekwha Girls' High were gradually subdued by the school's educational fervor.
Within less than a year, the Korean Peninsula saw the birth of an unprecedented academy city.