The Survivor III
The academy city was both dead and alive.
It grew voraciously like a gigantic zombie.
In the past, I criticized the idea of an academy city in creative works as being utterly unrealistic. Now, I realize I was wrong. I had no choice but to deeply reflect on how narrow-minded I had been.
Indeed, as unbelievable as it might sound, the academy city was real. Its economic power surpassed that of any other city, equipped with transcendental technology that could create something from nothing. At its helm was none other than the student council president of the academy. Yes, all these propositions were true.
"Is this even real…?"
Dang Seo-rin herself was taken aback by the unexpected debut of the academy city.
"Vice guild leader, is there something wrong with the energy of the Korean Peninsula? Did grandpa Dangun[1] get conned into bad real estate when he settled here? As if battling the Ten Legs wasn't headache enough, where did this crazy group come from?"
"They sprang from the Gate. Did you know? Baekwha Girls' High's swimming pool has no water, just zombies in swimsuits floundering on the pool floor."
"…Let's pretend we didn't see that."
Those with a semblance of brains adopted the same stance towards the academy city.
Ignorance.
Even in the cycles when I started acting independently from Dang Seo-rin, the basic strategy remained unchanged.
Do not look. Do not care. Do not engage.
The so-called Three Don'ts Policy was indeed the proper way to deal with Baekwha Girls' High. It was truly the best approach to keeping a durian-sealed Pandora's Box intact.
Even as other guilds were seduced by the prospect of 'an epic Necromancer,' I desperately cautioned against it. That thing will give you an upset stomach.
"What right do you have to block our guild?"
"With a Necromancer, we could defeat Dang Seo-rin!"
Of course, the guilds didn't initially heed my advice. Ultimately, some guild leaders didn't listen and ended up contributing to the establishment of the academy city.
However, I wasn't angry. In the grand scheme of a regressor's long life, these individuals were like immature infants. Continuously cared for with love and attention, they would eventually come to realize the affectionate intentions of their parents on their own.
"Well, if it's from Undertaker..."
"Think about it, a Necromancer, right? Messing with corpses, what's that all about?"
Ah.
Do you want to know how to subdue proud awakeners? It's simple. Become a regressor, defeat the Ten Legs. Even the steeliest tsundere melts before me.
Thus, from the tenth cycle, when the subjugation of the Ten Legs began, the guild leaders also started to comply with my regulatory measures.
Tapes crisscrossed the gate of Baekwha Girls' High like a spider web.
[No Entry] [Safety First] [Danger] [Cannibalism Alert] [Controlled Area]
It was a simple solution, but astonishingly, these yellow tapes performed almost like absolute barriers.
As long as no one from outside stirred things up, Baekwha Girls' High was safe. It made one wonder what Cheon Yo-hwa and her student council were subsisting on behind those closed doors.
Truly, very occasionally, when Cheon Yo-hwa herself went out to gather supplies, the Saintess would whisper in my ear, "The student council president has been spotted." Yet, significant incidents were rare.
Even as the 30th cycle passed.
The 40th cycle flowed by.
And even beyond the 50th cycle.
Yellow tapes still crisscrossed the gate of Baekwha Girls' High. I assure you, unless I was on vacation during those cycles, the seal here was never broken.
In other words, during the cycles when I took a break and vacationed, a very high probability existed that the 'academy city' would emerge.
After returning from a tour of Mount Hua with Sword Marquess in the 108th cycle, the same was true.
The Korean Peninsula was proving once again why this land had historically been called Hell Joseon, instilling fear in everyone.
-̴̯̈́D̸͈̀i̷͙͗n̶͋͜g̸͖͆-̵̯̓d̵͉̄ö̸̥̈ṋ̷͑g̴̫̎-̷̣̃d̶͚̏a̷̛̜n̶̩̄ǧ̵̝-̷̠̔d̵̘̓ö̴̪̇n̵̘̿g̶̠̋!̵͕͑
"Immortal Life! Radiant Immortality!"
"Sir, here's your order: two servings of tteokbokki!"
Lonely gourmet of the Ten Legs. The pseudo-religious cult of New Buddha. And now, added to that, the largest academy city in history, Baekwha Girls' High!
Such familiar old friends warmly welcomed me.
I'm so touched by the nostalgia that tears almost come. If a Meteor Shower were to fall now, the Four Kings of the Peninsula would truly be complete.
It was better to regress quietly than to directly face this mess, which I did.
"Hmm."
Upon returning to Busan Station after one vacation season, a moment of enlightenment arrived.
Indeed, the performance of a vacation was unmatched. It cured the unique occupational diseases of Infinite Regressors—[Why Only Me] syndrome, [I'm Tired of This] syndrome, [No One Remembers Me] syndrome, and so forth.
Instead, it reignited the typical chronic conditions of Regressors—[Still, I Must Solve This] syndrome, [I'm Perfectly Fine] syndrome, [Even If Everyone Forgets, I Will Remember Forever] syndrome. Oh well.
After all, isn't human life merely a record of struggling with diseases called happiness or misery?
A regressor is nothing more than a long-term patient who experiences and manages the same diseases as everyone else, just more deeply and adeptly.
I readmitted myself to the hospital I've long owed—this world—and observed the political state of the Korean Peninsula from an angle I hadn't considered before.
"Compared to Sword Marquess… maybe Cheon Yo-hwa is a very rational conversational partner?"
What a paradigm shift in thought!
Only after serving Sword Marquess, an epochal lunatic for six years, could such enlightenment have been possible.
Indeed, compared to a dog smeared with feces, a dog with mustard stains was practically a cute Shih Tzu.
"High school student council president? Compared to some island nation's nobility, she's totally normal."
The regressor of the fifth cycle, who trembled at the sight of student zombies, no longer existed. Only the awakener of the 109th cycle, freshly returned from experiencing the Marquess and Sect Leader of the Mount Hua Sect of Yuldoguk, remained.
Humans are meant to grow, after all.
As Undertaker, I marveled at my own growth and began preparations.
I grabbed SG Man Seo Gyu by the nape to cure his anger management issues, formed an alliance with the perennial hikikomori Saintess, defeated the Ten Legs and Udumbara, and after pulling Sword Marquess out from his inner power training on Ulleungdo, laid all the groundwork.
Then, months later.
I alone headed to Baekwha Girls' High.
"What brings you here?"
An NPC stood at the gate.
A familiar face among the guards.
Like the inscription on Dante's gate to hell, 'Abandon all hope, ye who enter here,' this NPC manned the entrance to a terrifying dungeon.
"I'm sorry, but if you have no business, please leave. This is a private school. Outsiders cannot just walk in."
"Ah. Thank you for your hard work. I'm not an outsider."
After clearing the entity known as Sword Marquess, to me, the guard was just another insignificant monster.
What doesn't kill me only makes me stronger.
"I'm someone like this."
"Hmm? What is this…?"
I politely handed over a printout.
The printout was kindly stamped with the seal of the Board of Education.
[Baekwha Girls' High School 99th Alumni Meeting Notice]
"…Oh."
The guard's pupils wavered.
I smiled.
"Hello. I'm a graduate visiting for the alumni meeting. I look forward to your cooperation."
"...…"
The zombie guard stuttered, frozen like an NPC that had encountered an unexpected player action.
Of course, the document was forged. I had never studied education, nor had I ever heard of an actual teacher carrying such a document.
But what did it matter?
Who would call the Board of Education or a university to check if this was real? They had long migrated to Mars when half of Seoul had been blown away.
"But… this is a girls' school, isn't it?"
"Ah. My gender transitioned. It's called TS disease, you see. I've awakened this ability."
"Uh…?"
The zombie guard, unsure whether to react as if such a ridiculous ability could exist or whether he was committing gender discrimination, was caught in a cruel situation for a pattern-following NPC.
"Um, no, well… Could you come in and wait? I'll call the manager."
"Ah, I had called earlier today to say I'd be visiting for the alumni gathering, but it seems the message didn't reach you. Let's go in and wait, then."
"Th-thank you…"
I entered Baekwha Girls' High far too easily.
See.
This is the experience of a 109th cycle regressor.
[Is this really the best way…?]
I ignored the Saintess's sigh in my ear.
"…You're an alumnus of our school?"
Blink.
Cheon Yo-hwa, meeting me in the student council room, blinked incessantly as she watched my every move.
Even the world's necromancer couldn't hide her confusion in front of a self-proclaimed graduate claiming to have TS disease.
"Yes. I heard a lot about you from the kids. You're Cheon Yo-hwa, right?"
"Uh…"
I treated her casually.
"They said an incredibly smart and quick-witted hubae became the student council president. It even made the rounds in our alumni network."
"That, um… thank you…?"
"By the way, I was part of the student council too, and now I'm the president of the alumni association."
"Oh…"
Cheon Yo-hwa shrank even more.
This was the weakness of those awakeners who had created their own worldview-settings in their skulls.
They resist strongly against outsiders who ignore their settings, but they become infinitely weaker against visitors who faithfully adhere to them.
"We're planning an alumni gathering, and the friends want to visit the school they haven't seen in a while."
"Oh, I see…"
And this was exactly my intention.
The natural predator of a lunatic is a lunatic with a higher level of madness. The truth of reciprocity proved itself once again.
Why? You say you're a student, even the president of a historically prestigious school.
Ah, are you really going to refuse the heavenly sunbae alumni president?
"Right. We'll avoid disrupting classes, but could we possibly use a classroom after school?"
"J-Just a moment, please wait!"
Cheon Yo-hwa stood up and went to a corner of the student council room. Ah, for reference, there were about a dozen other students in the student council room at the moment.
They were not zombies. All were living, breathing humans. Perhaps these were the true members of the 'Baekwha Girls' High Guild.'
"Uh, what do we do? She says she's a sunbae…"
The guild members of Baekwha whispered to each other.
"Doesn't make sense. Can gender really change like that?"
"If you think about it, President Yo-hwa's powers are more amazing, so theoretically it's possible…"
"But what if it's a lie?"
"However, she knew the president's name without being introduced."
"Let's test it."
"What kind of test?"
"If she really graduated from here, she should know things only someone from Baekwha Girls' High would know. Let's ask questions that only an alumna could answer."
They thought they were whispering, but I heard everything.
"Excuse me…"
"Yes?"
"Do you know what we call our dormitory?"
I knew this test was coming.
And I had prepared thoroughly for this very situation over the past several months.
[It's called Baekwha Hall, but students usually just call it the dormitory.]
Ah, that's Saintess, an awakener with the ability called Clairvoyance—she can observe any Awakener as she wishes.
You might not know, but I've been living side by side with you for more than half a year because I specially asked the Saintess to do so.
"Baekwha Hall, but we usually just call it the dormitory, you know."
"And where's our cafeteria…?"
"Go out here, down to the first floor, then a bit down the left corridor."
"And the name of our discipline director…?"
"Oh, the Gorilla? He's been around a long time. When I was in the dorms, the dorm supervisor always had permed hair, is he still like that?"
"...…"
Cheon Yo-hwa's pupils wavered.
As a last resort, she brought out a yearbook. She flipped to the section for my supposed graduating year, the 96th.
Of course, when she looked at the yearbook, so did the Saintess.
"And could I possibly hear the names of some of your sunbae friends…?"
"Han Ye-sol. Imi-ri. Park Ha-yoon. Kim Ji-yu. Kim Ye-rin."
"..."
I stood up.
"Why do you keep asking weird questions?"
"Huh?"
"Are you doubting me? Wow, Baekwha has really changed. In my time, we always sent at least two to Seoul National University. Are you guys preparing well for the SATs? As student council president, you should at least be aiming for Seoul National, right?"
"..."
"Yo-hwa."
"Yes…"
"Let's get along well in the future."
"Yes, sunbae…"
That day, the regressor gained a well-behaved necromancer hubae.
Footnotes:
[1] Dangun or Tangun, also known as Dangun Wanggeom, was the legendary founder and god-king of Gojoseon, the first Korean kingdom, around present-day Liaoning province in Northeast China and the northern part of the Korean Peninsula.
[2] Sunbae is the senpai / senior equivalent in Korean culture, likewise, hubae is junior.
-x-X-x-
The Trial I
The reason I suddenly appointed the second craziest person in the Korean Peninsula (the craziest being the Sword Marquess of Yuldoguk) as the student council president of Baekwha Girls' High was not because I wanted to become best friends with lunatics.
There were deeper and broader reasons behind it.
And I must remind you that I, the Undertaker, am far from being a villainous character.
I am not the type to devilishly revel in the destruction of my own plans that I have drawn up alone.
Such "dark-hero" type characters are nothing but adults who, having faced communication failures in their childhoods, have transformed their hope in humanity into contempt for mankind, ultimately never escaping their profoundly childish traumas.
"So, that's what you say, but why are you looking at me like that…?"
"What's important right now isn't that, Ms. Do-hwa."
"I see. Shall I gouge out those eyeballs of yours and pickle them in salt before dipping them in soy sauce…?"
"Too much salty food isn't good for the body."
"This fucking regressor bastard…"
Having had a rough childhood, Noh Do-hwa was quick to anger and curse.
Of course, as a morally upright adult, I knew how to respond calmly even to such fury.
"The one I've personally recruited this time, Cheon Yo-hwa, will be classified as a critical resource in our plan."
"Why? Because you have a school uniform fetish, you pervert…?"
"I don't like school uniforms. Try being my age, Ms. Do-hwa. Everyone looks like a kid to me."
"Wait, you're practically a thousand years old by your subjective standards, how am I supposed to reach that age…?"
"That's not my concern. Anyway, the importance of Yo-hwa's Necromancy is that it provides us with a stable 'workforce'."
"Hmm…"
Noh Do-hwa sipped on the coffee I had made.
Over the 1000 years (actually, at this point it was only 771 years), my barista skills had continuously improved, following an upward curve. Although I still couldn't perfectly imitate Old Man Scho's Café au Lait, except for that, my skills could be said to have reached their peak.
Even Noh Do-hwa, who generally maintained a cynical attitude as her signature, warmed up when drinking my coffee. "Shit, why is this so tasty…?" she murmured to himself.
Pleasing, isn't it? This is the reward of a regressor.
"Is manpower really that important? Honestly, these days it seems like the only surplus we have is manpower…"
"I'm talking about the manpower of the National Road Management Corps."
"Ah…"
Noh Do-hwa nodded, holding the coffee cup with both hands.
"Well, I'm slowly realizing it myself, managing this organization. Being a member of the National Road Management Corps is pretty much synonymous with being in a suicide squad. If you send them into the Void, there's a 20% chance they'll return as aliens with flowers sprouting from their heads or something…"
"Now, if we assign the more dangerous tasks to the zombie corpses, the survival rate will drastically increase."
"That sounds plausible... Let's try it."
"Before that, there's a condition."
"What condition…?"
I looked around. Although there had been no dialogue until now, the Saintess had also been silently sipping her coffee.
I smiled reassuringly in front of the trustworthy 'Regressor Alliance.'
"From now on, you are graduates of Baekwha Girls' High."
"..."
"Here, this is the graduation album of the 96th class, which I've manipulated in advance. You see the picture of Class 2? Just pretend it's Ms. Do-hwa and the Saintess's childhood. I was the vice president of the student council, and Ms. Do-hwa was the president while the Saintess was the secretary."
"..."
"And this is the exclusive data I prepared for Baekwha Girls' High. Dorm names, a list of teachers who frequently interacted with students, school-specific slang—it's all written here, so memorize it."
"...…"
Noh Do-hwa looked at the Saintess.
The Saintess nodded.
"I have already memorized it."
"Fuck, is this for real…?"
It was real.
"Hello! Sunbaes! Nice to meet you!"
A few days later.
We were able to witness Cheon Yo-hwa, who was heading straight towards us. Not only Yo-hwa but also the student council of Baekwha Girls' High, which means the real survivors, were all lined up.
"Ah, yes… My name is Noh Do-hwa…"
"Speak comfortably, please, sunbae! Hehe. You were the student council president? We heard from Undertaker sunbae that you need our help. Command us like dogs!"
"How badly did you fuck them up…?"
Noh Do-hwa glared at me reproachfully.
As for me, it was regrettable. It was a truly ignorant and ignorant response, wasn't it? Those awakened in the 109th run had not yet experienced what a lunatic group Baekwha Girls' High was.
"Don't let your guard down. If you don't respect their concept, that's when the real hell begins. I warned you."
"No, they seem like really nice kids though…"
"They are nice, but it's a limited-time niceness. They all turn into cannibals if they don't consume human flesh at least once every four days."
"..."
Baekwha Girls' High joined the National Road Management Corps.
That very night, six members of the National Road Management Corps 'enrolled' at Baekwha Girls' High.
The admission conditions were not too strict. Just needed to drill a hole in their skulls.
"What the fuck?"
Only then did Noh Do-hwa realize the seriousness of the situation.
"Awakener Undertaker, what kind of crazy fucks have you brought here…?!"
"I warned you beforehand."
"I didn't know it would be this bad…!"
"By the way, how did they end up dying?"
Noh Do-hwa handed me the report. How fitting for a former public servant. In this collapsing world, when something happens, it's always documented.
---
Victim A: What? Is this a new member?
Cheon Yo-hwa: Hello! I'm Cheon Yo-hwa, the student council president of Baekwha Girls' High!
Victim B: Huh? Girls' high? Student council? What's that, a role-play?
Cheon Yo-hwa: No? I really am the student council president of Baekwha Girls' High!
Victim A: Geez. Our newbie learned some weird stuff from somewhere. You look too old to be just graduating from high school.
Victim B: Right. Role-playing should be done by those who can pull it off without bothering anyone. No one recognizes a low-tier awakener like you as a student council president.
Cheon Yo-hwa: (Strange laugh)
---
Hmm.
Even reading this far was enough.
According to the attachments, parts of the corpses of Victim A and Victim B were found canned.
I diagnosed the cause of the victims' deaths.
"This is suicide."
"Is this for real…?"
Noh Do-hwa shuddered.
However, she was also an adept at dealing with lunatics, having maxed out her skills in 'Lunatic Sociology' specialized for dealing with lunatics.
As soon as she figured out that Cheon Yo-hwa was the lunatic from the Sword Marquess's group, Noh Do-hwa immediately adjusted her stance.
"Cheon Yo-hwa, hubae…"
"Yes! Sunbae Noh Do-hwa!"
"How's your college entrance exam preparation going?"
"Huh?"
"Oh my. In my time, if you were the student council president, you were naturally expected to get into Seoul National University. Cheon Yo-hwa, you must be aiming high as well…?"
"...…"
Noh Do-hwa immediately disciplined her and put Cheon Yo-hwa to work like a dog. By the way, I also showed Yo-hwa a forged Seoul National University admission certificate.
It was a forged document again. So what? What can you do about it?
Besides, I was set up as a graduate of the German Language and Literature department. As you know, my German skills are perfect.
Moreover, with my [Complete Memory], I could even perform the feat of reciting Goethe's Faust and Schiller's poems off the top of my head.
I raised my eyebrows as if it were a hardship.
"Hmm. Isn't this basic for a Baekwha Girls' High student council president?"
"...…"
Cheon Yo-hwa, overwhelmed by her sunbaes' authority, broke down in tears.
If she had been 'fake', at this point she would have raised a white flag and dropped the concept. But Cheon Yo-hwa was real. In her mind, Baekwha Girls' High existed, and naturally, the school's traditions were intact.
"I will diligently receive guidance and corrections from you sunbaes…"
The monster of the academy city that once terrorized all awakeners on the Korean Peninsula was nowhere to be found. Only a pitiful student remained.
That is exactly what is meant by being caught in one's own trap.
"Oh. So the zombie corps really is useful…?"
And thus, Noh Do-hwa confirmed that there was indeed value in 'maintaining such a concept' with Cheon Yo-hwa.
Then there was no reason to hesitate any longer. Noh Do-hwa, the epitome of pragmatism, immediately changed the dispatch of the National Road Management Corps to 'field training' and forced it upon Yo-hwa.
The organizational structure of the National Road Management Corps evolved.
-Scouting party: Baekwha Girls' High Guard (zombie). At least one awakener commands the zombies, breaking through the void first to check for any dangers and reporting back to the main force. Zombies perform only the simplest tasks, as they cannot make detailed judgments.
-Main force: At least two awakeners form a strike team, traveling from city to city, checking roads, escorting migrants and merchants, and commanding the zombie scouts.
-Support force: Capable of immediately repairing any damaged roads. Basically, grunt work.
With the addition of the 'scouting party' by Cheon Yo-hwa, the National Road Management Corps made a tremendous advancement. The disappearance rate of members, which had been as high as 20%, dropped to less than 5%.
However, the proportion of zombies turning into real corpses increased accordingly, but no one cared. In a world where human rights had vanished, considering zombie rights was a bit too harsh.
"This is the true utility of corpses…?"
Corpses were a good thing.
They could work without eating, felt no pain, didn't need their rights considered, and acted exactly as pre-programmed. Zombies were like an addictive drug once you got a taste.
Especially for someone like Noh Do-hwa, who pursued pragmatism more and more.
Noh Do-hwa had developed a new taste.
"Awakener Undertaker. What exactly is a zombie…?"
One day, I received such a question.
"Excuse me?"
"Think about it. The zombies created by Cheon Yo-hwa all perform their roles. Guards, students, teachers... They act only according to pre-entered instructions and can't respond to unforeseen situations, but within the confines of their roles, they seem quite human-like…"
"What are you trying to say?"
"Well, isn't this just like NPCs, not zombies…?"
Noh Do-hwa's eyes gleamed darkly.
"You call them zombies based on their appearance, but I don't think that's quite accurate. Yo-hwa is a Necromancer, but she's not mass-producing 'zombies'... she's more like a designer who creates 'NPCs'. In some ways, it's also like installing 'AI'…"
"Hoh."
NPCs, not zombies.
Such naming by Noh Do-hwa, who judged things solely by their usefulness, was typical.
"An interesting interpretation. But even so, does it change anything?"
"Well, we'll have to see about that…"
Noh Do-hwa grinned.
"I think a lot of things can change…"
"Is that so?"
"Yes. In that regard, could you please call guild leader Dang Seo-rin…?"
Even as the chief of the National Road Management Corps, I couldn't simply order Dang Seo-rin around. But since I was the only member of the 'Epicurean Guild', Dang Seo-rin would readily listen to me.
The next day, Dang Seo-rin arrived at the headquarters of the National Road Management Corps, clearly annoyed.
"What is it? I'm really busy these days."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I asked awakener Undertaker to invite you. It's just that only the Great Witch of Samcheon World can handle this task... Oh, and this is a copy of the Necronomicon I stumbled upon at an old bookstore last time. When I saw it, I thought it perfectly matched the Great Witch's library…"
"As a guild leader living on the Korean Peninsula, it's only right to cooperate with the duties of the National Road Management Corps."
"Could you please cast a magic spell…?"
Thud.
Dang Seo-rin placed several large books on the table, the titles of which were unfamiliar even to a regressor like me.
[Supreme Court Case Law], [Three-Concept Latest Case Law], [Civil Execution Law], [Key Issues in Tax Case Law], [Criminal Procedure Law: Articles and Case Law]...
Each one was terrifyingly thick. Clearly, they had been created to destroy a person's head both physically and mentally. Even Dang Seo-rin hesitated for a moment in front of their overwhelming presence.
"What are you using these for?"
"Heh. Don't worry. Great Witch, you just need to use [Repeat] [Text-to-Speech] [Play]..."
"That so? Alright."
Dang Seo-rin entered the warehouse and cast the Cursed Song Incantation.
Soon after, the many case law books in the warehouse began to turn their pages one by one, automatically supporting 'text-to-speech'. Naturally, it was quite a magical sight.
And after sending Dang Seo-rin away, I immediately brought Cheon Yo-hwa to the warehouse.
"Cheon Yo-hwa, hubae…"
"Yes, sunbae!"
"Bring about three guards here and leave them. And could you please ask them to [remember all the sounds coming from this warehouse]…"
"Huh? Uh, inputting that much will really drain my energy."
"It's a sunbae's order…"
"Ugh..."
And at that moment, I stood with my mouth agape, utterly unable to comprehend the kind of mind that could conceive such a notion, and thus I could only admire it.
"Noh Do-hwa, are you possibly…?"
"Yes."
Heh, Noh Do-hwa chuckled.
"If the National Road Management Corps is getting established, shouldn't we consider setting up a court too…?"
This person… was trying to create 'AI judges' using zombies!
-x-X-x-
The Trial II
"Unbelievable."
I asked, half in disbelief, yet the other half tinged with undeniable anticipation.
"Can zombies really perform the role of a judge?"
"No, no, they're not zombies; they're NPCs. Please don't make that mistake again. And as for whether they will succeed… Well, I don't know, but it's definitely worth a try…"
Despite her words, Noh Do-hwa's sly gaze sparkled with unmistakable excitement.
Like little kids playing tricks behind their teachers' backs, the two of us watched the room of zombies—rather, the warehouse constantly reciting the text of the law books.
Judges!
In this devastated world, somehow reviving the function of a 'court' had been a long-held ambition for both Noh Do-hwa and myself.
The National Road Management Corps had managed to connect the shredded lands of the nation like a delicate web. However, operating a national court system seemed impossible.
"I could take on the role of a judge temporarily for significant cases, or powerful guild leaders could gather and handle them like a jury system."
Neither the guild leaders nor I had leisure. How could we handle dozens of incidents happening every day in an apocalyptic world?
In the end, the guilds that had taken over each city had no choice but to run their own 'court-like systems.'
In plain terms, it was like handing a gavel to thugs. How could that possibly function properly?
While places like Busan, governed by Dang Seo-rin—who boasts intelligence of 91 and political acumen of 95—enjoyed a golden age (by post-apocalypse standards), most cities on the Korean Peninsula were ruled by local tyrants. Unless one was Sim Cheong[1], one often faced utterly unreasonable verdicts. Even if you were Sim Cheong, it was still crap.
"How long will it take to input all the law books into their heads?"
"Ah. Hmm, I've never asked for this much memory input before, so I can't be sure, but a month should be more than enough!"
Noh Do-hwa nodded at Cheon Yo-hwa's words. We sealed the warehouse door and returned to our daily routines.
One month later.
Noh Do-hwa, myself, and the Saintess, forming what you might call the full Regressor Alliance, gathered together. Cheon Yo-hwa also joined as a guest member.
"Then, let's open it!"
With a thud, the heavy warehouse door opened.
A foul odor wafted out, as if someone had stewed the essence of an unemployed shut-in for three months in a corner.
And no one even wrinkled their brows. Of course. Nowadays, if you smelled a corpse outside your house, you'd just think, 'Someone else bit the dust last night,' and move on.
"Hmm."
In the center of the warehouse, a zombie... no, an NPC stood with an incredibly stupid expression, gaping wide.
One might doubt whether it could properly memorize the law, but none of us judged people solely on their appearance.
"That looks incredibly stupid," said Noh Do-hwa.
"Anyway, let's test it. You all didn't come here just to be busybodies. Now, Cheon Yo-hwa, hubae...?"
"Ah, yes, Sunbae!"
With a hop, Cheon Yo-hwa stepped in front of the NPC and reached out to stroke its head.
"You are a judge."
[...]
"When disputes arise between people or organizations, determine who is right or mediate between the two!"
As she whispered about the 'role of a judge,' dark shadows crept from Cheon Yo-hwa's forearm into the NPC's head, swaying like black serpents.
That must be Cheon Yo-hwa's Necromancy.
Soon, the black serpents all retracted into the NPC's head. Cheon Yo-hwa fluttered her hand, "Phew."
"It's done. It's my first time asking someone to do something like this, so I'm not sure if it applied well. Anyway, feel free to ask it anything!"
"Hmm."
I glanced at the Saintess.
Her usual expressionless face made it hard to read her, but even the Saintess seemed intently focused on the NPC before us—a regressor's eyes could tell.
After all, wasn't she the very person who turned dark during the 107th cycle because villains roamed unpunished?
Noh Do-hwa, sensing my gaze, deferred to the Saintess.
"Why don't you ask the first question…?"
"...…"
Nod.
The Saintess stepped forward to face the NPC.
Despite holding the attention of some of the most powerful awakeners on the Korean Peninsula, the NPC simply gaped dumbly.
Cheon Yo-hwa cheerfully suggested, "Please set up the situation!"
"…A middle-aged man entered an abandoned house. However, an 11-year-old child was actually living there. The man was checking for any useful items when he discovered the child, who immediately cursed at him to get out. Enraged by the insults, the man charged at the child and fatally stabbed him in the throat with a dagger the size of a kitchen knife."
"Whoa."
"The man believes he had no intention of killing the child. In this case, was there intent to commit murder, and thus would it affect the sentence?"
[Initiating response. Intention in murder does not necessarily require a premeditated intent to kill.]
Suddenly, the NPC's head, which had been tilted at about a 10-degree angle, snapped to an upright position.
[Awareness of the killing is sufficient, which includes involuntary manslaughter.]
"..."
[Given that the defendant charged at the victim with a dagger after being severely provoked by insults and inflicted a fatal wound on the victim's neck, it is impossible to accept that the defendant lacked 'awareness of the killing' at the time. Considering the circumstances, it is justifiable to convict the defendant of this murder.]
"..."
[Response concluded.]
The NPC's head slumped again.
"Hmm."
As everyone hesitated to speak, Noh Do-hwa let out a grunt—or rather, it was more like a groan.
People have unique habits when deep in thought.
In Noh Do-hwa's case, it involved fidgeting with her always-worn black leather gloves. She pinched the tip of the glove's index finger, tugging it this way and that as if managing invisible nails before slipping it back in place.
"Hmm. Well, that's…?"
With a sharp pull, Noh Do-hwa stretched the leather glove taut, almost to the point of snapping.
A sinister laugh echoed through the shabby warehouse.
"Let's test it in the field right away…"
The beta test results for the 'AI judge' were less than spectacular.
"What? An AI judge?"
"What good is that supposed to do?"
The reason was that the guild leaders who occupied various cities felt no need to adopt an AI judge.
They already enjoyed the status of warlords. Why should we separate judicial power? The separation of powers is an outdated concept, isn't it?
But even if guild leaders behaved like warlords within their territories, they had their limits. In other words, once they stepped outside their neighborhood boundaries, they turned into weaklings.
"They invaded our territory first!"
"Why is that your territory? It's ours. Plus, you killed our people first!"
Typically, guild disputes like this.
Usually, guild leaders either fought to the death or asked a third party for mediation.
And there were only three people in the Korean Peninsula who were universally recognized as 'capable of fair mediation.' Dang Seo-rin. Noh Do-hwa. Me.
"National Road Management Corps Commander!"
"Commander, please make a judgment!"
Noh Do-hwa tried her best to look empathetic.
"Oh, such a thing has happened. As always, I will mediate with all my heart, ensuring no grievances or resentment remains…"
"Oh my. Thank you, Commander!"
"Yes."
The problem was that the three of us could not possibly be perfectly fair.
Of course, we strived to be as fair as possible, but whether outsiders saw it that way was another matter.
It was nearly impossible to satisfy both sides in a dispute, and so, whenever we offered a mediation, quite a bit of grumbling followed behind the scenes.
"But folks, have you heard about the newly introduced AI judge? It's really something…"
"Really?"
Seizing this opportunity, Noh Do-hwa pushed the AI judge to the guild leaders.
And, as always, she schemed a little here too.
"You know I used to be a civil servant before the world turned out like this, right?"
"Oh, yes. That's a well-known story."
"Actually, back then, the government was already debating whether to introduce an AI judge, and if so, to what extent should its authority be recognized. Maybe we could just let it handle very trivial cases based on precedents. That was also a mainstream opinion in the legal community."
"Oh… Yes…"
"Some time ago, our scouts brought back a few computers from a government building, and one of them had an AI program installed. So, this is a real AI that was actually used in practice. What do you think, everyone? How about we try hearing a decision just for a test?"
"Hmm."
"Of course, I have no intention of entrusting decisions to a mere program. Just think, [What kind of decision would have been made if civilization were still intact], and let's just listen to it for reference. The world has changed so much that we can't apply the judgment directly, but still, I think it makes sense to ask for an objective opinion from a 'third party' other than 'us'…"
"Hmm."
Up to this point, the National Road Management Corps Commander had been peddling something the guild leaders couldn't simply refuse. After all, he was the head of the organization that paved their roads and maintained their routes.
More importantly, I stood behind Noh Do-hwa. The presence of an awakener who alone had shattered the Ten Legs made the warlords think twice.
"So, shall we just hear what it has to say?"
And the guild leaders experienced that the AI judge was reasonably fair and surprisingly convenient to use.
[Judgment. A shall compensate B with 200 million.]
"In this day and age, where do you even find 200 million in cash?"
Noh Do-hwa chuckled sinisterly.
"What do you think? If you are not satisfied, I can mediate from the beginning and ignore this program's opinion…"
"...…"
"..."
The guild leaders were deep in thought. Their looks could roughly be translated as:
"If it was before the country collapsed, a compensation of 200 million could roughly equate to handing over a small workshop to them, isn't that a small price for a dispute?"
"Anyway, it sided with me. If I let Noh Do-hwa mediate and he smoothly glosses over it saying 'let's get along,' wouldn't it actually harm my dignity more?"
The guild leaders exchanged glances.
"Uh, well. How about we try to come to an agreement among ourselves first and if that doesn't work, can we then ask the Commander for help?"
"Oh, by all means. It's absolutely fine. This AI-loaded NPC will also be distributed among you, so make good use of it…"
"Really? That's okay?"
"Of course. Heh. It's free…"
Noh Do-hwa's judge NPCs were distributed evenly across the cities of the Korean Peninsula.
Guild leaders returned to their cities, pondering how to utilize their newly acquired toys.
And of course, even if a guild managed one city, there were numerous factions within it.
"Your people invaded our territory first!"
"Why is that your territory? It's ours. Plus, you killed our people first!"
"Hyung!"
"Hyung, please make a judgment!"
"Uh…"
When disputes arose among factions, it was naturally the guild leader's role to mediate.
By making the right judgments, the guild leader showcased their power, but it was not easy to always be seen as fair.
And the guild leaders finally realized.
This interesting but seemingly outdated AI judge could indeed perform a role.
"But guys, have you heard about the newly introduced AI judge? It's really something…"
"Really?"
AI Judge, national debut confirmed!
Footnotes:
[1] Sim Cheong-jeon is a story about the titular Sim Cheong, who throws herself into the Indang Sea as a sacrifice so that her blind father can regain his eyesight. This selfless act of filial piety causes her to be resurrected and become an empress, and her father's blindness is cured.
-x-X-x-
The Trial III
Before civilization collapsed, people used to half-jokingly say,
"Ugh, seriously, what kind of verdict is that?"
"We might as well leave everything to AI; it would probably be better than this!"
Of course, the other half of this sentiment carried a serious undertone: an AI, made of steel and code, might indeed be more impartial than Homo sapiens, who are often entangled in various vested interests.
Now that AI judges have debuted nationwide, one could exclaim, "Wow! An era of law where biased judgments are impossible!" But, naturally, things in the world never turn out to be that simple.
[Judgment. The defendant is sentenced to life imprisonment.]
"What?"
"He killed someone and it's not the death penalty?"
"Why can't we just kill the criminal?"
People were baffled.
Since there had been no updates since civilization's downfall, the judgments of AI judges were inevitably bland for the post-apocalyptic humanity accustomed to harsher realities.
[Judgment. The defendant is sentenced to three months in prison.]
"What?"
"He dared to touch someone else's property and it's not the death penalty?"
"Why can't we just kill the criminal?"
From the start, the concept of 'prison sentences' handed down by AI judges was an antiquated artifact.
Prison? Who has those anymore?
Would anyone build indestructible walls, install iron bars, and, furthermore, expect to feed, shelter, and care for prisoners? Do guards get paid out of thin air?
Yes, the AI judge was fair.
But that fairness was akin to divine fairness—it was utterly useless if it didn't descend to reality.
"Wait a minute. Isn't three months in jail roughly equivalent to losing a pinky finger?"
"Ooh…"
Thus, inevitably, there arose a need for a professional class to 'interpret' these 'divine words.'
Guild leaders, or their most trusted aides, took over roles once held by shamans in ancient times and priests in the Middle Ages.
If a guild leader had achieved enough to own a city, they could arguably be considered the closest to god within that city.
"So, guild leader, what about six months in jail?"
"Well, that's cutting off the index finger. Of course, if the victim prefers, cutting off a toe is also an option."
"And what about one year?"
"From then on, it might be appropriate to take off a hand or a foot. Oh! But be careful not to damage their labor capacity, so let's split it 50-50… Say, three fingers from the offender, two from their family members, making it a five-finger punishment altogether."
"Ooh…"
"Exactly, guild leader."
If prisons were antiques, collective punishment was the hot new commodity desired by all the trendy guilds.
"What if all fingers and toes are cut off?"
"Then they gotta die. Shit. If you can't play the game right even with 20 life points given, you're just not cut out for it."
"Fair point."
"After all, if there's nobody willing to sacrifice a finger for a criminal, who would mourn their death anyway? Just kill them all."
"Ah…"
The above conversation is a compilation edited for easier reading, originally spoken by a guild leader in Incheon.
Interpretations by 'shamans' varied greatly from city to city. While some, like Incheon, cleanly converted all life stats to fingers and toes, others interpreted a six-month sentence as six months of slavery, turning the offender into the victim's slave.
But precisely because of this, guild leaders happily embraced the AI judges.
"This isn't bad."
Dang Seo-rin casually tapped the AI judge's head.
"It's much more comfortable for guild leaders to say that they just added interpretation to an already impartial judgment from someone else—from beginning to end—rather than claiming they made the judgment alone."
"Hmm."
"The judgment wasn't wrong. It's just that the application to reality, or the interpretation, was lacking. Thus, even if a small mistake occurs, the guild leader's dignity is relatively less damaged. Ah, maybe this was also a principle behind why ancient rulers were also priests."
As expected from a guild leader governing one of the most successful cities on the Korean Peninsula, her comments carried significant weight.
Although Dang Seo-rin herself never used the AI judges for her own judgments, handing them over to the general public instead.
This was not just because she viewed 'taking on unnecessary responsibilities' as a hallmark of leadership.
Dang Seo-rin, who styled herself as a Great Witch, governed Busan in a unique—well, very 'witch-like'—manner. In her Busan, a separate system known as 'witch trials' operated.
But let's leave that topic for another time since today's story is not about Dang Seo-rin.
Frankly, I wasn't particularly enthusiastic or serious about introducing AI judges. I was merely astonished by Noh Do-hwa's spark of innovation.
As previously mentioned, the judgments of AI judges were too disconnected from reality—mere babblings of Confucius or Mencius for all practical purposes.
I, the Undertaker, had ambitions. Someday, I aspired to create a legal system that truly suited the post-apocalyptic world. From my perspective, AI judges were just clever inventions, inadequate gadgets falling short of a regressor's standards.
Yet, precisely this aspect, being 'too disconnected from reality', ironically began to resonate not just with guild leaders but also with ordinary people.
"Why doesn't it sentence anyone to death?"
[Initiating response. Modern jurisprudence and legal philosophy can contemplate the death penalty from various viewpoints. Among them, the most compelling argument is that the government can never decide on the right to life of its citizens. Citizens delegate some of their rights to the government through a social contract, but they retain exclusive rights concerning the dignity of life. The government is not a natural person but an artificial entity similar to a program, and therefore cannot make autonomous judgments on matters not programmed into it.]
"Hmm... So?"
[Lowering the intellectual level of the explanation by two steps. Changing response. The government is not infallible. Incompetent judges, malicious evidence tampering, or factions attempting to politically engineer judicial murders could all lead to errors by the government. Therefore, it is wise to preemptively block actions that make such errors irreversible, such as the annihilation of life itself.]
"Ooh... So?"
[Lowering the intellectual level by six steps. Changing response. Let's just cherish life.]
True to its word, the AI judge simply refused to execute any death sentences.
"A serial killer who butchered two-year-old children for no reason."
[A death sentence could be pronounced, but it would not be carried out.]
"A spy and terrorist who bombed public facilities, killing three thousand people!"
[A death sentence could be pronounced, but it would not be carried out.]
"Hitler!"
[A death sentence could be pronounced, but it would not be carried out.]
"Shit, still not killing? Even now?"
As the situation unfolded this way, the citizens of Busan (Dang Seo-rin had set up the AI judge in a public square for civilians to toy with) were utterly baffled. Just how far did it have to go before it would sentence someone to death?
"…This is really absurd. Just stab him in the neck, and he'd be dead easily; why all this fuss about not executing?"
"Hmm, but think about it, before the world turned out like this, it did feel like this. People who deserved death didn't die and just rotted away in jail eating beans."
"Yeah. That's how it was."
"How did it all change?"
"..."
"..."
The people of the post-apocalypse longed for the past.
They had been running blindly without a chance to look back, and thus, the survivors who had managed to keep going realized just how far they had run from their past by listening to the AI judge's rulings.
Yes, the world had changed. They had changed too.
They had just caught their breath for a moment, and the likelihood of humans completely conquering the void to rebuild civilization seemed distant. Everyone in this era knew they were witnessing the twilight years of humanity.
Nostalgia for a homeland they could never return to.
Thus, when people of this era miraculously had leisure time, they would gather in guild buildings or such places to watch 'movies from the previous era' on large TVs.
It didn't matter if the movies were uninteresting.
"Wow, look how clean the asphalt roads are!"
"Cars are actually driving around!"
"Insane. They just drink coffee like it's water."
"Why doesn't he kill someone for bumping into him?"
For people, films from the old days served as a means to momentarily recall the glorious past of human civilization.
This was evident from the way they watched TV. They didn't sit neatly in a row, attentively watching the screen. Instead, they huddled together, cracking peanuts, casually glancing at the screen, and loudly discussing the 'exotic items' in the videos.
"Hot water comes straight from home? Just push a button for bottled water? Wow…"
"But why do they look so dissatisfied? It's practically heaven."
"Anyway, everyone was so spoiled back then. Those guys all need their heads peeled by monsters for their brains to cook right. Hey, pass me that hammer, this one's tough to crack."
Roughly, this was the contemporary self-portrait.
Thus, the 'unrealistic judgments' of AI judges, initially treated like toys, gradually began to take on a different hue over time.
[Judgment. Defendant B shall pay plaintiff A 1 million won.]
"Really? Wait, I'll get it together in a week."
"Huh?"
Some people started to take the AI's judgments seriously.
In this world, money was more like a talisman than currency—a talisman that reminded them of the times they were part of a civilized society.
Collecting '1 million won' worth of such talismans was extremely difficult.
But one citizen eventually gathered 50,000 won, 10,000 won, 5,000 won, and 1,000 won bills from wherever possible and truly handed over 1 million won to the plaintiff.
"Are we good now?"
"Uh, yeah…"
"Yeah, I'm sorry for disrupting your business. This settles things between us."
Surprisingly, one citizen's apology was accepted.
Money, which had lost all its value as currency and couldn't be exchanged for other goods—essentially having lost all meaning as money—was recognized as compensation for wrongdoing.
This accidental incident gradually led more citizens to voluntarily comply with the AI's judgments.
Certainly, in cases where people were seriously injured or their lives were at risk, citizens did not rely on the AI judge.
But for minor disputes, things that didn't warrant killing each other over, people willingly submitted to 'old judgments'—the justice of times when the world was still intact.
"Here's 3 million won."
"Let's get along better from now on."
Even if the most recently issued currency had been printed over ten years ago, the bills were crumpled and grimy from human contact, people cherished and exchanged them with great care.
From afar, it looked less like the execution of laws and more like some kind of religious ritual.
A ritual to prove and certify to each other that they were once members of a world that had already perished.
A process to affirm that we all belonged to the same community.
What can I say? Unlike in stories where currencies turn to trash the moment an apocalypse strikes, reality was quite different.
"…I really didn't see this coming."
I felt somewhat emotionally punched.
Not that it felt entirely bad. After all, it confirmed that despite the world falling apart, most people were still suffering from nostalgia.
Even after the 109th cycle, I continued to keep the 'AI judges.'
Even if they weren't much help judicially, if they could remind people living in such times of their 'humanity' even a little, then that in itself was meaningful, wasn't it?
"Judge."
[Yes.]
"There's this infinite regressor who keeps ditching his colleagues to flirt with his wife, continuously neglecting his duties as an old man. Meanwhile, the colleague left behind is breaking his back trying to save the world. What judgment fits this despicable regressor?"
[Judgment. Not guilty.]
"..."
Humanity be damned.
Clearly, AI still didn't understand the human heart.
-x-X-x-
The Ruler I
Today, let's talk about Dang Seo-rin, the guild leader of the Samcheon World Guild.
But before that, let's digress a bit... Being a regressor, there are aspects that I notice more keenly, changes that I feel more distinctly than others.
Like the increasing wrinkles on Noh Do-hwa's forehead as the years go by—just kidding.
For example, the 'change of language.'
Those who have read my stories so far must already be familiar with these linguistic changes.
A prime example is 'monster.' Initially, these strange lifeforms were called by their English name. Sometimes, they weren't even considered lifeforms, which is why they began to be referred to as 'grotesques' or 'aberrations.'
Everyone knows that 'gate' changed to 'void.'
Until now, I've kept this hidden to avoid confusion, but the term 'awakener' has also undergone various transformations.
Many people called them 'hunters,' then 'transcendents,' and later on, 'ascendants' became quite common.
The latter terms increasingly reflected a bizarre ideology known as 'Awakener Supremacy.' Those who wanted to distance themselves from this pseudo-eugenics preferred the more neutral term 'Awakener.'
Why?
"Awakener Undertaker…"
Noh Do-hwa would call me.
That's not so much an honorific like 'doc' but more a way of saying 'I don't regard you as a transcendent or ascendant.'
This wasn't my idea; I heard this secret directly from her in one cycle. It's so typically Noh Do-hwa, isn't it?
Anyway.
Amidst the flux of linguistic changes, there were words that remained grand and steadfast over time.
One such word was 'guild.'
No one knows who first started calling the group of awakeners a 'guild.'
It was as if, in the collective unconscious of Koreans, there was a declaration: 'From now on, we agree to call it a guild.' The name naturally stuck.
Most awakeners joined a guild as if it were the most natural thing. Even that crazy Sword Marquess created a one-person guild called Yuldoguk, didn't he? (In the 108th cycle, the guild briefly increased to two members.)
Here, some might wonder.
What does a guild actually do?
Is it like an adventurers' guild in an RPG where you can take on quests? Can you evolve through tiers from B-class, A-class, S-class, or bronze-silver-platinum based on how brilliantly you perform quests?
Unfortunately, no such thing happened. That's just the insane habit of East Asians who, having learned bureaucracy from ancient times, apply ranks and grades even to private sectors.
I can answer what a guild is very simply.
It's just a gang.
"Guild leader."
"Yes?"
For example, in the 6th cycle, when I was serving as Dang Seo-rin's right hand in the Samcheon Guild, something like this happened.
"The awakeners from the Blue Sea Guild went around all the bars in Nam-gu last night."
"What?"
The lounging Dang Seo-rin sat up.
"Those bastards should stick to eating seaweed on their island. What are they doing on the mainland? Do we have proof?"
"I've gathered all the evidence. I even had Manager Yu turn on the minimap. You can give the order to execute the plan anytime."
"That's why I like having a vice guild leader."
"Will you go yourself?"
"Of course. Let's crush them."
I once mentioned that I might have told too many positive stories about Dang Seo-rin. Do you remember?
If anyone from Dang Seo-rin's fan club is reading this, I apologize. In fact, such conversations were quite common in the Samcheon World Guild's office (a train car).
The 'Great Witch Idol Dang Seo-rin,' the biggest star awakener in the history of the Korean Peninsula, known today, is merely a product of extensive historical distortion years later.
I know this well because I spent decades working as something like her manager.
-Ding, ding, ding, ding!
As the bell rang, the guild members disembarked from the train in droves.
Over two hundred guild members, all wearing pointy hats. Not just that, each one also held a broom.
In a world gone mad, our guild was an exceptionally good example of insanity.
Dang Seo-rin climbed onto the roof of the station, like a principal on a podium, and looked very pleased at the sight of everyone in pointy hats.
"Hello, everyone."
"Yes, Great Witch!"
"The Blue Sea Guild brats were hanging around Yeongdo last night, having a feast at the bars we protect. They have a lot of money. They had 16 rounds of drinks! Life must be good in Yeongdo. But they didn't say a word to us, their neighbors. How should we feel about this slight?"
"Kill them all!"
Someone shouted. It was Yu Ji-won, my lieutenant and the top agitator in Korea.
Dang Seo-rin blinked, as if encountering a surprising perspective.
"Hmm… I hadn't considered that angle, but hearing you guys, I suddenly feel enlightened. Yes, that's a great idea. Let's kill them."
"Ooooo!"
Dressed in black pointy hats and black cloaks, the members of the Samcheon World Guild marched through the city.
Grown adults embarrassed? Well, there were some non-adults, but setting them aside, of course, it was embarrassing, but you'd be killed for saying such a thing in front of Dang Seo-rin.
The opposing guild, caught off guard by a sudden full-scale attack, panicked.
"Shit! It's the Witch's cult!"
"It's Samcheon."
"The Witch's cult is attacking! The crazy witch is here!"
"It's Samcheon World, dammit! Do you want to die?"
No one listened to Dang Seo-rin. Hardly anyone remembered the name Samcheon. It was just the Busan Witch's cult.
And the Witch's cult's specialty was witch hunts. In these times, civilization had progressed enough that, unlike the primitive Middle Ages, it was the witches who did the hunting, not the other way around.
"Please, spare me…"
Within three hours of the battle's onset, the Blue Sea Guild, based in Yeongdo, Busan, was annihilated.
Thump, thump. Dang Seo-rin, looking somber, tapped the opponent's head with the end of her broom.
"Hey."
The broom's stiff bristles poked the Blue Sea Guild leader's eyes.
"Argh… Ah…"
"Why would someone who can't last a day without groveling rob the wallets of honest citizens? We don't want to fight you. But when the merchants ask us for help, huh? We can't just ignore the people's pleas. Why make things difficult for us?"
"I'm sorry… I'm sorry… Please, just let me live…"
"Let's play our witch game. We'll dunk you in water, and if you sink, you're innocent; if you float, you're guilty. Got it?"
"You son of a bitch! You insane lunatic! How can you call yourself human?"
"Guys, what are you doing? This man's going for a swim."
I repeated,
"He's going for a swim."
Again, unlike the primitive inquisitors who tied rocks or iron weights to ankles, we used the modern invention of 'concrete hiking boots.'
There were underwater mountains; the sea had many mountains too. Concrete boots helped humanity conquer underwater peaks.
Soon, bubbles rose from the sea off Busan.
I nodded.
"He's not floating, guild leader."
"Innocent, then."
Dang Seo-rin pressed her pointy hat to her chest.
She lowered her head, looking sad.
"This too is a tragedy of these troubled times. Let's all pay our respects."
"A moment of silence."
Following Dang Seo-rin, all two hundred guild members observed a moment of silence.
Our guild didn't just handle water magic. We also mastered fire magic that brought out the scent of burning wood, time magic that made you acutely aware of each second of a fleeting day, healing magic that gifted the effects of a foot massage by walking on heated stone paths, and many others…
As a guild led by Dang Seo-rin, who was versed in all types of magic, Samcheon World never discriminated between white and black magic, and loved all four elements equally.
In a world gone mad, Samcheon World was even madder, especially Dang Seo-rin.
Now.
Even with this brief anecdote, I believe you can understand why I called a guild a 'gang.'
I chose a slightly provocative story, but the main source of income for guilds was protection fees. They diligently collected taxes from people doing business, working, and taking refuge in the cities.
There was no choice. The fantasy of gold coins dropping when monsters were defeated did not exist in reality.
There was no miraculous superconducting energy source 'mana stone' to replace oil.
The only somewhat useful items monsters dropped were their meat, but a guild running a butcher shop had its limits. People didn't prefer monster meat, and it sometimes contained radioactive 'seasonings.'
In the end, guilds had no choice but to extort 'protection fees' from people. Up to this point, all guilds across the country, no, the world, were the same.
The real difference came after that. It depended on how one interpreted the concept of 'protection.'
"The essence of the world is a struggle of all against all, and humans are the most fearsome beasts. Protection of humans, by humans, and for humans is the most necessary measure for current humanity."
Humanists who adopted this answer settled into their territories. It was the ruling philosophy chosen by the majority of tough guys.
"Isn't the monster scarier than humans?"
About 4% of the population, the extreme minority of cowards, thought differently.
"Sure, humans are dangerous, but monsters are even more dangerous."
"Why bother? Monsters don't even drop anything useful."
"Why not? Busan drops, doesn't it?"
Dang Seo-rin set the first day of each month as the protection tax due date. At the end of each month, she led the guild members on a void-clearing expedition outside Busan, then returned.
It wasn't just about hunting. Dang Seo-rin always filmed the scenes of the monsters being killed and dragged at least one live monster back to Busan.
She demonstrated in front of Busan citizens that the Great Witch's magic did not apply only to humanity.
-Gweeeeh!
The monster, after tasting fire magic, water magic, time magic, and healing magic in order, screamed in gratitude with its limbs bound tightly.
"More torture! More! More!"
"Indeed, the Samcheon World guild leader knows how to entertain."
This magic show became so popular that it became a proud symbol and attraction of Busan.
Surprisingly, when they collected protection taxes the next day or the day after the execution show, the payment rate significantly increased. The citizens' response was along the lines of 'Since they gave us such an entertaining show, we should pay the admission fee.' Even in the days when the Korean National Tax Service was running smoothly, the ratio of sincere taxpayers wasn't this high.
"Guild leader… Are you a genius?"
"Yes. You can keep complimenting me."
"If not for the pointy hat, you'd be in the biographies of great figures."
"Do you want to die?"
As predicted by Dang Seo-rin, Busan naturally fell into the hands of the Samcheon Guild.
As the situation turned interesting, even some humanists had to reconsider their political philosophies.
"Now that I think about it, monsters are scarier than humans."
"Right. You can at least talk to people; you can't negotiate with monsters."
"How did we miss this obvious truth until now! I feel pathetic!"
As the nation of early adopters, Korean guild leaders did not hesitate to emulate Dang Seo-rin.
Whether out of love for their hometown or a thirst for power, guild leaders switched their primary occupation to hunters. Guild leaders who failed to transition were naturally weeded out, so they weren't even worth mentioning.
However, none of them could keep up with Dang Seo-rin's 'magic show.'
Who could dare to perform a spell that cuts off a monster's limbs (actually more than just four limbs) and reattaches them while floating in mid-air?
"Why are the executions in our neighborhood so dull?"
"Over there in Busan, they've got fire magic and water magic and all sorts of things."
"Hah, nothing beats the original."
In a world where the internet and cinemas had perished, monster executions were irresistible entertainment. More and more civilians began to move to Busan.
The fact that Dang Seo-rin had set protection taxes at a very reasonable level also contributed to the migration boom.
And it was around this time that our Great Witch, Dang Seo-rin, started having strange thoughts—though she was always a bit strange, these were 'even stranger thoughts.'
-x-X-x-
The Ruler II
I mentioned in the previous story that while all the guild leaders nationwide gladly accepted the AI judges, Dang Seo-rin was the exception.
"Ah, seriously—"
Now, I want to explain the reason behind it.
Because, in a certain sense, regarding this matter, I too couldn't escape responsibility.
So, one could say this is the record of two accomplices: Dang Seo-rin and me.
"Failed again. Again."
The starting point was the 6th cycle.
Dang Seo-rin had taken off her pointy hat (a rare occurrence) and was pulling at her hair with one hand.
Like a novelist blocked on their writing or a lyricist dissatisfied with their lyrics.
Actually, this description was closer to the truth than a metaphor. Dang Seo-rin was holding a quill pen (she had actually hand-carved it from a goose feather) and was creating a spell.
"This one's taking a while. What spell are you trying to make?"
"Equivalent Exchange."
Dang Seo-rin pouted.
"I'm trying to make a spell that exchanges two different objects or phenomena on a one-to-one basis."
"...I can't quite grasp where you'd use such a spell."
"Huh? You can't judge a spell by its practicality. It's all about the romance and making something cool."
"That's a very guild leader-like statement."
As I mentioned before, Dang Seo-rin's ability was called Cursed Song Incantation. In other words, to activate a spell, she had to sing a song, and naturally, the song had lyrics.
In essence… for Dang Seo-rin, creating a spell was no different from writing song lyrics.
I didn't know much about magic since I hadn't mastered it, but according to Dang Seo-rin, "When the right lyrics are completed, it feels like the gears in my head click into place!" and the spell is activated or something like that.
So, in fact, Dang Seo-rin's trademark 'Resurrection Magic' was composed of lyrics like this:
Roll it, roll it
Bottom of the abyss, peak of the ether
All things swirl and spin
The peak of the ether, the bottom of the abyss
The eternally breathing fire wheel
Incidentally, the language was entirely in Latin.
Could Dang Seo-rin speak Latin? No, but there was a Latin major among the Samcheon World Guild members who served as her translator shuttle. That guild member was promoted to the executive team solely because they knew Latin.
It might not be new to you by now, but I hope you realize how seriously Dang Seo-rin took her witch cosplay. Her life was just one big fandom activity.
"Latin is a superior poetic language," "Especially, any chorus must be sung in Latin no matter what," thanks to Dang Seo-rin's nonsensical philosophy, whenever large-scale song magic like the Ten Legs extermination battle was activated, we could listen to a grand Latin chorus that covered the skies.
Honestly, it was impressive.
That's why she became the greatest idol on the Korean Peninsula. Anyway.
"Where did you get stuck?"
"Umm—I feel it lacks a bit of intuition. For example, vice guild leader, if someone offered you a bag of factory-made potato chips in exchange for six cartons of milk, what would you do?"
"That's a fair trade."
"Right? That's the kind of 'equivalent exchange' I'm thinking of. The problem is, beyond food and drinks, it gets a bit vague."
Dang Seo-rin chewed on the tip of her feather.
"For instance… let's say someone proposed to get rid of all the monsters in this world in exchange for you being imprisoned for 1000 years."
"Hmm."
"By the way, it's solitary confinement. You get meals on time but can't talk to the guards. You can read books or watch dramas, but you can't communicate with anyone."
If I heard this proposal now, I'd accept it as a complete bargain.
But back then, I was just a regressor in my 6th cycle. I hadn't even lived 100 years, and those less-than-100 years felt incredibly tough.
"Well? Would you take the deal?"
"...It's ambiguous. I'm not sure."
"Exactly. 'Not sure' is the honest answer."
The Great Witch gave a satisfied smile.
"Because we don't have a clear intuition about what 1000 years feels like, right? Even if someone tells us to live for 1000 years, we can't grasp how long that really is. Whether it's 1000 years, 900 years, or 1100 years, it all feels vaguely the same."
"Hmm."
Dang Seo-rin was right.
In fact, in our relationship, Dang Seo-rin was almost always right.
The notion that I'd accept the proposal now also stemmed from my acquired intuition about what 1000 years truly meant.
"Not just 1000 years, but my entire life experience is too limited."
"Hmm."
"...Yeah. I get what you're saying. I mean, even if I've experienced many things compared to others, it's still not enough to create a grand spell like [Equivalent Exchange]. Got it?"
"No one could amass such experience. Life isn't infinite, and lifespans are limited."
"...Indeed."
Dang Seo-rin stood up from the wooden chair and suddenly began to sing a song I had never heard before.
In fact, Dang Seo-rin often habitually, and spontaneously, hummed songs. Listening to her was also part of the unofficial duties of the vice guild leader.
I clapped. After finishing her solo concert, Dang Seo-rin gracefully picked up her pointy hat and bowed.
"Was that the equivalent exchange spell?"
"Yeah. The spell didn't activate, though. How was it?"
"It was good."
"Great."
Dang Seo-rin smiled.
And that was it.
Sometimes Dang Seo-rin agonized over how to create the equivalent exchange spell, in other words, what lyrics would trigger the spell, lost in the struggles of a creator. But she never completed the equivalent exchange.
Before she was killed by the Ten Legs.
The 6th cycle, the 7th, the 8th, the 9th were all the same.
In every cycle, Dang Seo-rin was obsessed with the equivalent exchange spell and never completed her bucket list.
In terms of completion, it was barely 10%.
We were never granted enough time to create a grand spell like equivalent exchange.
I didn't know exactly how Dang Seo-rin died. I couldn't protect her, but my pride lay in the fact that I always died a little earlier than our little witch.
Thus came the grand 10th cycle.
"I can't walk your path with you, but at least I'll follow your footsteps with the same pace as mine."
"Even if we can't live together, we'll die together."
"Take care, my companion in time."
Dang Seo-rin left her last words and died.
I couldn't prevent her death, but at least I could hold her funeral. I acted as the funeral director. Since neither of us had any family, it was a solo affair.
I don't wish to detail Dang Seo-rin's funeral now, and I'm not sure if I'll ever want to.
But one thing was certain: her smiling last words left a deep mark on my heart.
After the 10th cycle ended, in the 11th cycle.
"Ah, seriously— Failed again. Again."
"This one's taking a while. What spell are you trying to make?"
"Equivalent Exchange."
I no longer spoke formally to Dang Seo-rin, and she called me 'Undertaker' instead of 'Vice guild leader,' but our relationship remained amicable.
"Nice name. A spell that swaps two objects or phenomena?"
"How did you guess? How did you know, you?"
Because I was a regressor and once served you as my lord, I barely swallowed those words.
The person in front of me had asked me to keep the secret of my regression. I had made that promise.
In retrospect—Dang Seo-rin had a chilling cruelty.
To herself. To me.
Sometimes the measure of a relationship was how much cruelty people allowed each other.
"...Where are you stuck? From my perspective, the intention to swap all things seems too grand."
"Oh? That's a valid point. More precisely, it's the fundamental issue of lacking intuition about all things. Hmm."
Dang Seo-rin closed one eye.
"Can you listen for a moment? Sometimes hearing another's opinion might help spark an idea."
You never revealed your spell creation process to anyone because you believed "magic must always be mysterious!" So why wouldn't you cast any spell on me? You had laughed it off foolishly.
As someone who remembered all that, I couldn't refuse Dang Seo-rin's request.
"Is it an honor to be the first to hear the unfinished song of the Samcheon World' Leader?"
"Think of it as an honor."
I listened.
"How was it?"
"I enjoyed it. Impressive."
"Of course, it's impressive. What I want from you is feedback. Feedback. The Latin lyrics mean this. Anything you think should be changed?"
"Hmm. How about replacing 'object' with 'starlight' or 'moonlight'?"
"Oh?"
"This part expresses things that can't be measured, right? So, instead of using a mundane word like 'object,' wouldn't it be better to use something that conveys the meaning of things difficult for humans to grasp?"
"Ah—so, starlight, hmm. Oh? Wait a minute. Then…?"
Dang Seo-rin, as if struck by inspiration, scribbled furiously in her notebook.
Of course, I had no talent as a creator, critic, or even as a mage.
I simply recited the unfinished lyrics from previous cycles.
"Got it! Yes! It's still far from complete, but it feels like progress!"
"I'm glad it helped."
"Wow—thanks, Undertaker. What's this? Do you have a talent for witchcraft? Want to join our guild? I can parachute you straight into the executive team. Huh?"
"Sorry, but the Samcheon World's uniform is a bit…."
"Huh? Want to die?"
And so began our 'making the equivalent exchange spell.'
Even though the Ten Legs began to be eradicated from the 10th cycle, Dang Seo-rin poured nearly all her lifespan into the battlefield, leaving her with little time to focus solely on spell creation.
Nevertheless, Dang Seo-rin steadily made progress, word by word, sentence by sentence, cycle after cycle.
"Instead of 'exchange' in the chorus, wouldn't 'judgment' be more genuine, at least for you, Dang Seo-rin?"
"Oh?"
My role was to convey this unfinished product to the 'next cycle's Dang Seo-rin.'
"Here, the word 'alchemy' carries more emotion than 'transaction'…."
"Instead of insisting on completing the equivalent exchange spell with just one chant, how about splitting the spell into two separate songs?"
"First, a resurrection, then a song about things whose value can't be measured, and finally…."
The 11th cycle, the 12th, the 13th.
With each passing cycle, the completeness of the equivalent exchange spell increased.
Initially, Dang Seo-rin had been half-giving up, wondering how to complete such a grand spell, but as time went on, her expression brightened noticeably.
"Oh? Wait. Hold on. If I follow your suggestion like this…? Oh? Maybe, just maybe, I can really create this…?"
To be honest.
Perhaps all of this was my little indulgence.
Even if I couldn't reveal I was a regressor to Dang Seo-rin, I wanted us to have at least one creation we made together.
It didn't matter what that creation was. Equivalent exchange just happened to catch my eye by chance.
I always had a side that made me chuckle because it was so soft. Both to myself and to her.
I wanted to believe that sometimes the measure of a relationship was how much one could yield to the other.
And once again, Dang Seo-rin was right.
"―Unbelievable! It's complete!"
Finally, in the 26th cycle.
"To think I could create such a grand spell with just two chants…. I'm a genius! And Undertaker! You might be a bit of a genius too!"
Dang Seo-rin had completed the equivalent exchange.