The Lucky One V
-Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!
Before Noh Do-hwa's muttering even finished, screams erupted from the bunker.
My comrades pointed at me, horrified, like VIP cultists witnessing Cthulhu's descent firsthand.
-Undertaker! It's the Undertaker!
-The Three Kingdoms entity has appeared!
-Disgusting...! I hate it so much! Just watching him makes me want to rip off my earlobes...!
My comrades kept screaming endlessly.
For this moment, I had stocked water bottles near the bunker entrance. My comrades, as if entranced, picked up the bottles and hurled them at me.
Amidst the heartwarming sight of water bottles flying everywhere, I alone wore a warm smile.
'Just as planned.'
It was an inevitable outcome.
Originally, what effect did the 'Savior' syndrome have? It pushed everyone's affection for me to the extreme, beyond their limits.
And the 'Hate Pill' was an elixir that engraved a reversal technique on any affection felt towards the consumer.
The affection the Savior Syndrome maximized had now completely flipped to the negative!
In other words.
'My misfortune has descended here and now.'
It may be redundant, but I cared deeply for my comrades.
Being hated by such adorable people was as tragic as hearing grandchildren say, 'Grandpa, you stink!'
-Hyung! No, Undertaker! Please die!
-I can't believe I once called someone like you 'oppa'. My past self is disgraceful.
-No, technically Ha-yul, you never called me that. You can't speak, remember? That was your puppet speaking.
-I've hated that illegally employed guard from the start!
-Terrible.
Seeing Dang Seo-rin looking at me with such hatred felt like being repeatedly stabbed in the heart.
"Ahh."
Are you watching, Total Luck Law?
This is the technique of a skilled regressor, the way to utilize anomalies.
No matter how much you wait to gift me misfortune as Santa Alter, if I preemptively harvest enormous misfortune myself, you're just another unemployed Finn in the post-COVID era.
If a regressor decides to make themselves miserable, what can a mere anomaly like you do?
End the world? Hah. Is that really worse than Dang Seo-rin's genuine look of disdain?
Dismemberment? I doubt it. Even now, the Saintess is repeatedly using the 'pause' and 'play' buttons on time to chop at my neck with a hatchet.
Incurable disease? Ridiculous. Cheon Yo-hwa is pulling out hourglasses filled with ghosts from Baekhwa High School, ready to break their seals. Actually, that's quite dangerous.
I quickly ran over and knocked Cheon Yo-hwa unconscious.
As I got closer, my former comrades convulsed and trembled even more.
-Die! Die! Please, just die already!
-You useless bastard who failed to save the world hundreds of times! Incompetent! Because of you, people around the world are dying again and again! Punish him!
To understand their reaction, imagine a 2-meter cockroach approaching you.
Currently, I was the reverse-Go Yuri from their perspective.
An entity that elicits extreme hatred no matter what I do, as opposed to the devil who invariably gains affection. In other words, an angel who absolutely invokes revulsion.
Universal self-regard.
'Is this... the view that pink entity always had of the world?'
So contemptible and trivial.
"Dok-seo, are you watching?"
"Yeah! Even though I hate it when you call me by my name, I'm okay! I still recognize this as an anomaly. But can't I at least break one of your fingers?"
"That would be difficult. I didn't train my comrades too strongly this cycle for this very reason."
"You're truly remarkable, old man! I respect you! I hate you! So, could you please stop breathing? Sharing the same air with you is horrifying."
"Hey. Don't be swayed by an anomaly. Focus on the truth. You're destined to save the world."
"Damn it, a regressor and a book possessor together, ruining everything..."
Noh Do-hwa cursed as she fiddled with her smartphone.
Even amidst the chaos at the National Road Management Corps headquarters, Noh Do-hwa remained the same.
Her attitude towards others didn't change despite the affection reversal. This proved her true character—she always treated others, especially me, like a rat's cousin.
"Haa..."
Thud. Noh Do-hwa put down her phone.
Then, she threw the pile of papers stacked on the table.
The dull-colored papers (recycled paper due to resource scarcity) fluttered in the air.
"How long are you going to show off your power here? Let's go..."
"What? Go where?"
"I don't know, damn it. The Saintess just sent a group chat quest to all the awakened. She said the Undertaker has fallen and is massacring humans indiscriminately, and all awakened should unite to eliminate him. You didn't get the message, did you? Outcast..."
"Ah."
"Just now, SG Net is flooded with announcements. [Nameless Constellation], [Librarian of the Great Library], [Admin of the Infinite Metagame], [Morning Star of the Second Coming], [Collector of All Anomalies]... They're all banding together to crush you, forming a nationwide coalition..."
As Noh Do-hwa spoke, I saw Seo Kyu and Sim Ah-ryeon tapping their smartphones furiously at the end of the line.
It seemed the Saintess, realizing that physical attacks were ineffective against me, had immediately called for reinforcements. She was sitting with her eyes closed and hands clasped, clearly using [Telepathy].
"Fuck, I hate this world. Let's just go..."
"Okay."
"I mean it, fucker. I'm quitting."
I wore the expression of Liu Bei hearing that Zhuge Liang wanted to retire to farming. If you leave, this country will collapse!
"Do I care? Let it fall. Hey, Ji-won, deputy."
"Yes?"
"You're the next head of the National Road Management Corps."
What.
"I'm not doing a handover. Figure it out yourself. If you're not a complete idiot, you'll manage. And don't look for me if I disappear..."
"Ah! Thank you, sir!"
This was unbelievable.
I was shocked. Yu Ji-won had finally risen to the head of the National Road Management Corps!
If this story's protagonist were Yu Ji-won instead of me, the Undertaker, it would be an epic of a convenience store worker climbing the ranks to the highest guild in Korea, becoming the president in the 590th cycle.
Was this real? It was.
While I shivered at the psychopath's success story, Noh Do-hwa was packing something into a trunk.
Aside from a few clothes, she didn't pack much.
Noh Do-hwa was always ready to part ways with her job. She kept her personal tools and daily necessities in her trunk.
Unlike most workers who only thought about quitting, she actually handed in her resignation.
Noh Do-hwa grabbed the trunk handle and looked at me disdainfully.
"What are you doing...? I said let's go."
"Hmm."
"Your eyes are asking 'where,' huh... Well. First, we need to leave the Korean Peninsula. We need to get out of the Saintess's [Clairvoyance] range to evade the pursuers..."
I couldn't answer right away.
It was somewhat surprising.
I had expected Noh Do-hwa to also be affected by the 'Hate Pill' and curse me.
But Noh Do-hwa was fine. More than fine.
'Is it because her affection for me wasn't high enough to notice a reversal?'
Or was it because she always scolded and cursed at me so much that I couldn't see a difference?
Either way, I wasn't sure.
This was my first time using the 'Hate Pill' in the 590th cycle.
My standard method of dealing with anomalies was to figure out how to counter them through repeated regressions. The 'Hate Pill' needed more research.
For that research, Noh Do-hwa, who seemed immune to the 'Hate Pill's' effects, was a valuable sample.
"Aren't you coming? If not, I'm going to hide on a remote island..."
"No, wait. Let's go together. Hawaii is too far; how about Saipan or Guam?"
"Saipan? Hmm..."
"Yes. If something happens in Korea, I can quickly come back across the sea to check."
"A resort, huh... Every place in this world is a mess, but at least the mood will be different. Alright..."
"Dok-seo, are you coming too?"
Oh Dok-seo grinned.
"No way! Old man, drown in the sea! Oh, but I do want to see you die, so it'd be nice if you died in front of me!"
Indeed, I was unfortunate.
The decision to resign as president and travel to Saipan was made on the spot.
If Noh Do-hwa had been an American, Air Force One would have come to pick up the just-resigned former president, but unfortunately, the USA had fallen before accepting Korea as the 51st state.
So we had to travel to Saipan on our own.
The reporters trying to follow us made for an equally grand procession.
-There he is! He's escaping!
-The ideological betrayal by Comrade Secretary can only be met with fury! The only way to maintain ideological purity is to punish the traitor! Guillotine!
-Wait! Cease fire! He's taking the head of the National Road Management Corps hostage!
-What?
-That vile terrorist! Release the head immediately!
Escaping wasn't easy for me either.
First, the Sword Marquess blocked my way. He, who had sparred with me for 101 rounds in the first year, now extended the fight beyond 200 rounds.
"Undertaker! How could you stray from the path and fall into the demonic way! Watching a former friend fall into evil is as painful as a heartbreak!"
"Actually, the closest thing to the demonic way in this cycle is you..."
While the Sword Marquess bought time, the other awakeners didn't just sit around. They actively caused chaos.
"Ah—Ah—Ah—Ah—"
First, Dang Seo-rin started singing. This was the biggest problem, so I fled before the fifth note.
"Did you miss me, senior?"
And Cheon Yo-hwa (千謠話) finally released Cheon Yo-hwa (天寥化). The Infinite Void, possessing Cheon Yo-hwa, spread her unique barrier around Busan.
For reference, the way to distinguish the two was by how they addressed me. Yo-hwa called me 'teacher,' while Infinite Void called me 'senior.'
[Die.]
Ha-yul's puppet strings tightened around my neck from all directions.
The Korean Peninsula, especially Busan, was covered in Ha-yul's webs. To prepare for invasions by anomalies, she had protected Busan both by land and sea.
If her defenses could block invasions, they could certainly prevent escapes.
The Saintess's [Clairvoyance] and [Telepathy] continuously assisted the awakened.
"Wow."
I was impressed by the strength of the Korean Peninsula that I had built.
If Sim Ah-ryeon had leveled up to the Northern Holy State through Zero Requiem, I might have died. Thankfully, the aliens built the Great Wall this cycle.
With the Sword Marquess's sword strikes, Dang Seo-rin's singing, Cheon Yo-hwa's barrier, Ha-yul's web, and the Saintess's backup, even I struggled to escape unscathed.
In the end, I had to sacrifice my left foot to escape. Half of my lower body was now Ha-yul's 50% version.
I didn't mind. With the world's strongest prosthetics engineer as my companion, even this small 'misfortune' would benefit me.
"Are you seriously breaking through...? You really are crazy..."
Noh Do-hwa, on my back, muttered incredulously.
Even amidst the chaos, she remained unscathed.
"If I had more time, I would've used the Inspection Bureau anomaly, but it can't be helped. We'll cross the sea to Saipan."
"It's already soaking wet. Can't you avoid the waves a bit more...?"
"The waves were just born, but I'm over ten thousand years old. They should avoid me."
"Haa..."
We successfully broke through the front lines.
For a while, we sailed through the open sea.
I boarded the Savoia S-21, a seaplane I had stationed on Tsushima Island. I had used it during my strategy against Cheon Yo-hwa and Infinite Void.
Before long, we landed in Saipan, a former resort destination.
-Ukikik.
Somewhere, mixed with the sound of waves, I thought I heard the laughter of monkeys.
-x-X-x-
The Lucky One VI
There was no paradise to escape to, but the scenery of Saipan was as beautiful as paradise.
The transparent jade sea and the soft sand caressing our feet. Noh Do-hwa muttered, "The sunlight is too strong..."
"Indeed. It's excessively beautiful," I replied.
That was our first impression.
For reference, I was dressed as a cafe barista, while Noh Do-hwa wore a casual t-shirt with a white lab coat fluttering in the sea breeze.
In short, our fashion was aggressively denying that this place was a global resort.
Saipan probably didn't want tourists like us either.
"This scenery is totally unsuitable for an undertaker who needs to extract misfortune down to the last drop."
"Your words make me anxious..."
We needed to become even more unfortunate.
Thus, I decided to transform the island's landscape myself.
As an aside, in the end-times marked by emptiness, 'aesthetic formality' was more important than anything else.
A story with a clear beginning, development, climax, and conclusion. Like waking up and muttering, "A strange ceiling..."
Such things were a form of etiquette. Grammar.
And depending on what grammar or worldview you adopted, the anomalies would respond differently.
In other words, even upon arriving at a resort, if you shouted, "Wow! It's summer! The beach! The sea!" and flung off your outerwear to dive into the waves, you would likely encounter anomalies based on 'Japanese-style comics.'
It's basically the same as middle schoolers turning off the lights at night and chanting, "Bunshinsaba, Bunshinsaba."
In the end-times, every action and word of a person could summon all sorts of anomalies.
"Noh Do-hwa, I will now recite an excerpt from 'No Longer Human' by Osamu Dazai."
"What...?"
"You've heard of 'No Longer Human,' right? It's by the same author."
I carried Noh Do-hwa to a cliff by the sea.
When I set her down at the edge, she put her hands in the pockets of her white coat.
"Hmm. Why would you start a cheap recital as soon as we arrive in Saipan?"
"As a former public official, you should study history properly. Noh Do-hwa, Saipan was one of the regions where the Japanese military was defeated by the US during the Pacific War. Many civilians also died in the war."
"So what?"
"This cliff is where the Japanese Imperial Army performed their 'special talent show.'"
"Special talent show...?"
If you were to pick two specialties of the former Japanese Imperial Army, they would be declaring war and mass suicide.
The latter specialty was displayed spectacularly at the northernmost point of Saipan Island.
"This cliff is called Banzai Cliff. It's said that about 10,000 soldiers shouted 'Banzai' and dived off the cliff."
"Okay, and so what?"
"And if you were to name the most famous suicide in Japan, it would be Osamu Dazai."
I pulled out an empty notebook.
"Watch closely, Do-hwa. This is the classic incantation for summoning anomalies."
The loud, clear voice of the recital echoed over the waves from the cliff.
"Ah. On a full moon night. Glimmering, then collapsing, surging, then shattering, the waves surged and I couldn't bear to let go of the hand I was holding onto so I intentionally pushed her away. She was instantly swallowed by the waves and shouted a name loudly. It wasn't my name—."
Splash.
A wave crashed.
At that moment.
-Long live the Emperor!
Splash!
A shadowy figure passed by us and dived off the cliff.
What skill. It was a pity they had been a soldier instead of an Olympic athlete during their lifetime.
"What the fuck...?"
Noh Do-hwa jumped in shock.
It was understandable. Shadowy figures that hadn't existed moments ago suddenly appeared behind us.
-Long live the Emperor!
-Long live the Greater Japanese Empire!
-Long liveeeee!
Splash, splash!
Fortunately, while not Olympians, they had marathon experience. Thousands of shadowy figures started running towards the horizon.
The shadowy figures had no physical form. They passed through our shoulders, sometimes even our bodies, and continued to run.
Interestingly, despite having no physical form, they vividly replicated the effect of 'falling into the waves.'
Splash, splash. The waves caused by humans were triumphing over those caused by nature.
Indeed, the Japanese Imperial Army's true enemy was never the US military but 'nature' itself.
Nature included environments like jungles and seas, but also human nature. The Imperial Army wasn't defeated but was actually victorious.
"Damn, what the hell...?"
"Like human history, summoning anomalies also involves the harmony of Heaven, Earth, and Man (天地人)."
I laughed heartily like the Sword Marquess.
"Japanese perceptions of mass suicide are Heaven (天), the land where the Japanese Imperial Army collectively committed suicide is Earth (地), and Osamu Dazai, the icon of suicide, is Man (人). With these three conditions met so perfectly, how could the anomaly not respond to the incantation?"
"...Seriously, Undertaker. Aren't you already the head of anomalies? What kind of human summons anomalies so easily?"
"Call me a grandmaster shaman."
"Fuck that."
In fact, Osamu Dazai was a leftist who had joined an anti-imperialist student alliance, but what did that matter?
Unless they were tutorial fairies, anomalies had little interest in human political leanings.
Of course, the 'Central Intelligence Agency' living in Namsan, Seoul, was highly interested in human ideologies, but that's a story for another episode.
"If you're suspicious, Noh Do-hwa, you can try reciting next time."
"Next time...?"
"Yes. There's another cliff known for mass suicides around here."
"Wait, wasn't this place just a resort...? Did you come here specifically to do this? Do you really want to die?"
At the next location, Noh Do-hwa chanted the incantation as I instructed.
Sure enough, the 'shadowy figures' appeared.
Unlike Dang Seo-rin, who could only use her exclusive magic, a true grand sorcerer could design a magic system where anyone who chanted 'Fireball' would create a scorching 800-degree flame orb.
Noh Do-hwa, newly enrolled in my magic tower, muttered in disbelief like a student attempting 'Wingardium Leviosa' for the first time.
"It actually works...?"
"If the conditions of Heaven, Earth, and Man are met, anyone can do it. That's what strategies are for. Why else would I call myself an expert in anomalies?"
"Undertaker, what are those shadowy figures? Human souls...?"
"Ah, probably not. They're merely beings made from crude memories and illusions of people. Literally shadows. To give them a more complete form, you'd need an incantation from someone who actually experienced the Pacific War."
"..."
"Look closely at the shadowy figures shouting 'Banzai' and running in groups. They lack detail. If they were real, there would be people being pushed off, some trying to commit seppuku, and others being forced to sacrifice themselves, each with distinct faces and poses."
That day, I spent the whole time with Noh Do-hwa, resurrecting 'unhappy memories' all around the area.
Boom!
Cannon sounds shook the beach. Only the sounds existed. Not even a fishing boat, let alone a warship, was visible on the sea.
In the sky, the engines of fighter planes roared eerily.
Somewhere, the cries of children were heard. The cries had no nationality.
The 'Battle of Saipan' wasn't over.
The number of shadowy figures jumping off the cliffs showed no signs of decreasing. The bodiless shadows continued their endless hell, dying repeatedly.
Emptiness was always like that.
"..."
Noh Do-hwa occasionally glanced at the cliffs while crafting my prosthetic limbs.
As mentioned before, during our escape from Busan, I lost one of my left legs.
Noh Do-hwa used some nearby wood to make me a prosthetic limb.
"Ah, Noh Do-hwa. Tighten the nails there a bit more. It suits me better that way."
"..."
This wasn't the first time Noh Do-hwa had crafted limbs for me in the 590 cycles, so I assisted her appropriately.
Usually, she would have snapped back, 'Then make it yourself,' but she was unusually quiet this time, as if she were lost in deep thought.
"This is such a strange world..."
Noh Do-hwa knelt on one knee, fitting the prosthetic to my left leg, and finally muttered softly.
"Humans clumsily try to forget, while anomalies awkwardly try to remember."
She slowly turned to me.
"And you are a strange human..."
A bizarre and strange 'vacation' continued.
Now, I received scorn and hatred from my beloved comrades and woke up every morning to the sounds of screams and cries.
'I guess I've become quite unfortunate now.'
At least, compared to the luck brought by 'the Sword Marquess's rejuvenation' or 'the aliens' Great Wall,' today's misfortune felt heavier.
Such things were 'nice to have but not necessary' kinds of luck.
Even without the Sword Marquess or the aliens, I knew how to maintain the front lines in my own way.
-Ukikik.
It seemed the Monkey's Paw had judged the same.
Just as there are insiders and outsiders in the world, someone had to maintain the balance.
The Monkey's Paw, which oversaw the scales of luck and misfortune, seemed to sense a crisis and began pouring out luck more blatantly.
"Undertaker, did you bring the Sword Marquess here?"
"No, I didn't."
"I found bananas hanging in front of the house this morning..."
Food appeared by itself even when we stayed still.
The weather was perfect. The sea gleamed emerald, and the shadows cast by the trees shimmered sapphire.
The environment was so inviting it made you want to dive into the sea in a swimsuit.
-Boom!
In such an environment, the cannon sounds remained grand.
The shadows diving off the cliffs were still there. The weather was so sunny that they truly looked like diving athletes now.
Noh Do-hwa commented, "This is fucking surreal..."
Indeed it was.
The misfortune I created and the luck generated by the Monkey's Paw had begun a full-fledged battle.
My heart swelled. The competition between Naruto's luck and Sasuke's misfortune grew more intense every day.
One day, when I was strolling on the beach and found Cheon Yo-hwa collapsed in the sand, the competition reached its peak.
"...Yo-hwa?"
"Tea... cher..."
Cheon Yo-hwa grabbed my hand tightly.
"I'm sorry. I regained my sanity recently. But I... What have I done to you...!"
Tears welled up in Cheon Yo-hwa's eyes. Her orange hair was tousled by the sea breeze, and sand stuck to her cheeks.
"I knew I had to apologize to you. So I tried to find you alone. When the boat capsized, I thought I'd die, but I survived. I'm so glad I could see you. What happened to your leg? Is it because of us? I'm sorry. Please forgive me..."
I shuddered.
'Is this how you play, Monkey's Paw!'
As known, I had used the 'Hate Pill' to forcibly open a depressing story.
That was my 'check.'
The Monkey's Paw responded with 'checkmate.'
What was the most delightful part of a depressing story?
Needless to say, it was the moment when the characters who hated and resented the protagonist realized the truth and regretted their mistakes.
[I've misunderstood the protagonist] [It's my fault] [I was wrong, and the protagonist was right] [I must apologize and repay the protagonist]—a truly sinister self-realization...!
Yes. The Monkey's Paw followed the depressing story's grammar and tried to give me 'revenge.'
"Yo-hwa."
"Yes...?"
"It's okay."
If the Monkey's Paw wanted a revenge plot, my response was clear.
I smiled kindly.
"Of course, I forgive you."
"...!"
Indeed.
The Monkey's Paw desired a plot where the protagonist pushed others away, saying, [It's too late] [You had many chances, but you wasted them all] [Apologizing now won't change anything].
The protagonist would then find happiness while others fell into misery. It was a cliché of depressing stories.
However.
"No, you have nothing to be forgiven for. I was never disappointed in you, Yo-hwa."
"Teacher...!"
My chosen strategy was to be a 'forgiving' protagonist!
No matter what my comrades did, whether they cut off my limbs or cursed me on SG Net, I accepted it all.
Not allowing a single drop of revenge. This was the masterstroke against the Monkey's Paw's tricks.
-Ukikikik, Hee, Kikikikik.
After all, no matter what tricks the Monkey's Paw played, it was meaningless.
The phenomenon where my comrades were 'controlled by the Monkey's Paw without realizing it' was itself a painful misfortune for me.
'In the end, I'm the one who put my comrades in danger by testing the Monkey's Paw.'
It was all a disaster of my own making, so how could I blame others?
Eventually, I even returned Cheon Yo-hwa to the Korean Peninsula, along with my right leg, as a donation to the awakened in Busan.
This time, I deliberately let Dang Seo-rin take it.
The scene where she cut off my right foot and muttered, "Tsk, I aimed for the heart..." while tossing my leg was a masterpiece.
-Kikikikikikikikik.
The Monkey's Paw convulsed in the void.
Dinosaurs, perfect for riding, appeared to entertain me, and the Inunaki Tunnel was modified to connect all cities on the Korean Peninsula. It used all sorts of methods to bestow luck and happiness upon me.
So, next, I donated my left arm to the Saintess and my right arm to Lee Ha-yul.
The Undertaker Daruma doll was complete.
-Kikikikikikikik.
I felt the Monkey's Paw foaming at the mouth in the void. It had choked on the despair and collapsed.
Noh Do-hwa also foamed at the mouth.
"You're... No, never mind. It's you, so I'm sure you have your reasons. No need to explain. Just come back with only your head, and I'll craft your limbs somehow... Are you smiling? How can you smile right now...?"
Left foot. Right foot. Left arm. Right arm.
My body, suddenly transformed into a genre of mutilation stories, was covered with Noh Do-hwa's custom prosthetics.
The battle between the Monkey's Paw trying to grant me luck and me trying to bestow misfortune upon myself was thrilling to witness. However, like all battles, this one also had a time limit.
The 10th year.
'Finally, it's here.'
The end of the 590th cycle approached.
At last, the moment I had set for the Monkey's Paw's time limit arrived.
And on that very day.
First, the Japanese archipelago was lightly destroyed.
When Noh Do-hwa and I woke up in the beach hut and looked out the window, we immediately knew that the Japanese archipelago had been obliterated.
"...Undertaker, look at that."
"Yes, I see it too."
In a novel where a Korean is the protagonist, the fate of the Japanese archipelago was always dire.
Of course, to me, nationality and race held no particular meaning.
Once you live beyond a millennium, your values and perspective on the world change. Even how you view the world.
Manyo Neko, Phantom Blade, Uehara Shino.
There was also the 'Great Priestess,' the chairperson and first seat of the Magical Girl Association, whom I haven't mentioned and prefer never to mention.
They were all my precious comrades.
I knew well what kind of lives they had led and where they were headed.
In this era where nations had fallen and governments had collapsed, they were volunteers rising from the ground to save those around them.
-I will declare this land a haven of magical girl clichés brimming with hope!
-Killing demons is done with grand tragedy, not light laughter! Tragedy doesn't suit us! Everyone, smile!
That was the purpose of the Magical Girl Association.
However, there were two types of magical girl stories.
Stories where justice ultimately triumphed with comrades. The orthodox faction.
Torture stories where magical girls fell into despair and were torn apart. The demonic cult.
Every day, a great battle between orthodoxy and demonic cult took place in the Japanese archipelago.
And, unfortunately for the magical girls, the genre of this world was inherently wicked.
"What is that...?"
Red flesh.
A massive tower of red flesh rose from the horizon, greedily drinking in the morning sunlight.
North of Saipan. In the direction of the Japanese archipelago.
The distance from here to Tokyo was about 2,400 km.
The tower of 'red flesh' extended its majestic form beyond the horizon.
I muttered.
"It's Go Yuri."
-x-X-x-
The Lucky One VII
"…Go Yuri?"
Noh Do-hwa furrowed her brow.
"…Oh, the person I repeatedly warned you about? But how did it become that huge…?"
"The physical size doesn't matter much. That red tower is likely visible from anywhere on Earth."
I stared at the horizon.
"You know how there are orbital elevators in science fiction? It's manifesting such a scene. That's the kind of anomaly we're dealing with."
"Sigh…"
I had heard that Go Yuri crossed over to the Japanese archipelago.
Somehow, that incident snowballed into this disastrous result.
"There are ocean-level anomalies called 'Ya-o-yorozu no kami' in the Japanese archipelago. Just like Baekhwa High School's ghost stories are composed of 100 ghosts, Ya-o-yorozu no kami is literally composed of eight million anomalies."
"That's a hell of a lot…"
"Yes. I don't know the details, but it seems Go Yuri took on the role of a 'calamity god' passed down from across the sea. Presumably, Go Yuri consumed Ya-o-yorozu no kami."
This was not good.
Especially since the concept that 'anything can become a god' in the archipelago favored Go Yuri immensely. In fact, the only opponent who might match her was Yoo Ji-won.
"Are you saying she has become a god…?"
"At the very least, she can call herself a minor god. If she devours Ganges in India, who knows what might happen next."
Perhaps, by actively bringing misfortune through the 'Hate Pill,' I managed to limit the disaster to 'only' this extent.
The neighboring region turned pink, so it was unlikely the Korean Peninsula would remain unscathed.
"Noh Do-hwa, I'm going to scout the Korean Peninsula."
"…Sure. You'll probably come back in one piece this time since there's nothing left to cut off."
"I'll try my best."
I boarded the Savoia S-21 seaplane and set off for the Korean Peninsula.
This plane was modeled after the one in Studio Ghibli's Porco Rosso and was a kind of anomaly itself. It was sturdier in the void than in reality.
It even had some resistance to 'brainwashing' and 'hypnosis,' reminiscent of scenes from the original animation.
Vroom—
Unlike the original, this biplane flew with a hum of its engine.
Despite the 50% chance of the engine stalling mid-flight, it was still much safer than staying on the ground.
"…It's over."
The Korean Peninsula was also devastated.
The 'Black Wall' that expanded from Manchuria had now consumed all of North Korea.
The alien structures spewed black sludge continuously, covering everything around. From there, anomalies poured out incessantly.
-Creeeeak.
-Craaak, craak.
The aliens that had numbered 120 upon arrival had multiplied like zerglings.
Their forms had changed too. Once resembling armored beings, they now looked more like grotesque 'alien lifeforms,' akin to Ultralisk or Hydralisk from StarCraft.
It seemed the Monster Wave and aliens had fused.
Considering how clichés often end with giants breaking walls and soldiers defending them, a fusion of DNA was almost expected.
'Busan is... barely recognizable.'
Busan Station, the stronghold of the Samsin World, and the headquarters of the National Road Management Corps were all destroyed, emitting ominous smoke.
I wondered what had happened to Yoo Ji-won.
In case of emergencies, we had established a protocol to evacuate to Inunaki Tunnel. The Saintess, Lee Ha-yul, Sim Ah-ryeon, and Seo Gyu knew the protocol.
"Saintess? Are you watching?"
No response.
There was no answer.
"..."
I couldn't tell if the Saintess was dead or just pretending to wait for me to land and ambush me. Given the ongoing misfortune brought by the 'Hate Pill,' nothing was certain. I had to consider the worst-case scenario that she had fallen as an executor.
Boom!
A sound of gunfire erupted from somewhere.
I tensed, thinking it was anti-aircraft fire, but no weapon firing the shots was visible.
It was just like the cannon sounds that echoed from Saipan's beach. The sound existed, but not the source.
Boom! Boom!
The bombardment sounds peaked near the Nakdong River. It took me a moment to realize it was a reenactment of a war.
The 'Korean War' was unfolding across the Korean Peninsula. Under the guise of ideology, people hunted each other with the cold edge of an axe, distinguishing between 'us' and 'them.'
But just like the cliffs of Saipan, the hunters and the hunted were all part of the anomalies' play. No truly living humans were found.
Even the connection to the Undertaker's gossip network was severed.
'Perhaps, to others, the existence of a regressor like me was a massive stroke of luck.'
Such a thought crossed my mind.
'If so, Old Man Scho's repeated deaths would be equally immense misfortune for others. Perhaps the 'Total Luck Law' balanced things without us realizing it.'
-Craaak?
The aliens spotted me and began scanning the skies.
Even though this plane was an anomaly, it couldn't withstand UFOs from an SF universe.
Before the aliens could shoot me down, I altered my course and returned to Saipan.
"Hmm…"
Noh Do-hwa was sitting in the beach hut.
She glanced at me.
"Well, you came back in one piece."
Noh Do-hwa brewed coffee with beans she had brought from Busan and handed me a cup.
And she asked nothing.
I always appreciated her silence.
Incidentally, Noh Do-hwa made terrible coffee despite appearances.
Though I had tried to keep a cheerful tone, I must confess honestly.
In the 590th cycle, my mental state was quite shaken.
No, 'quite' was too mild. It was considerably shaken.
'Did I use the Monkey's Paw too hastily?'
Of course, I had a goal that necessitated testing the Monkey's Paw.
As will be revealed in the next stories, there was an anomaly I could only defeat with the Monkey's Paw.
But at that point, it was a future matter. Until my experiment's significance was proven, my mind was inevitably cornered in the 590th cycle.
'Yes. This anxiety itself is one of the emotions bringing me misfortune.'
So I let go.
Under normal circumstances, I would have used various methods to restore my mental state. I might have guided the aliens to the Japanese archipelago to enjoy a Go Yuri vs. aliens matchup.
But in the 590th cycle, I aimed to become as unfortunate as possible.
Thus, I tormented myself.
'Even though I sought a way to counter the god, relying on the Total Luck Law was foolish. The disaster was my choice.'
'I should have warned my comrades in advance. But no, Dok-seo's mind was corrupted anyway. The result would have been the same.'
'Really? The Saintess has a much stronger mental state than Dok-seo. If I had explained my purpose and intentions...'
'How could the Saintess have countered the interference of three anomalies: the Savior, the Monkey's Paw, and the Hate Pill?'
'I shouldn't have done it.'
Regret. Self-reproach. Fantasizing about IFs.
The thoughts that constantly drove humans to misfortune were always 'I shouldn't have done that.'
A master of mental management is also a genius of mental destruction. I expertly tortured myself.
I frequently flew around the ruined world, reminding myself, 'This is all due to my wrong choices.'
"...…"
Noh Do-hwa quietly watched me.
Honestly, if I truly wanted to be unfortunate, I should have driven her away.
But I couldn't bring myself to expel Noh Do-hwa from the beach hut.
In the 590th cycle, I realized that my psyche unknowingly relied on Noh Do-hwa.
'Even in my subconscious, I never saw a corrupted Noh Do-hwa.'
The uncorruptible.
Perhaps Noh Do-hwa had such a characteristic?
Maybe that's why she was immune to the Hate Pill's effects?
—Rationally, that was impossible.
If Noh Do-hwa had true [mental immunity], she should have resisted Go Yuri's brainwashing. Over many cycles, such behavior was not observed.
'Still, she might be more resistant to the Hated Pill than others.'
At that time, I indulged in such fantasies.
'Maybe the Hate Pill has an effect I didn't know about. Perhaps the more Noh Do-hwa hated me, the more she felt a twisted sense of friendship?'
'Otherwise, why would she suggest leaving with me right after resigning from the National Road Management Corps? Was Noh Do-hwa the type to make such a proposal voluntarily?'
Fantasies. Fantasies. More fantasies.
Somewhere deep in my heart, a part of me yearned to rely on someone, indulging that desire.
The saying by Native Americans was true. The human mind is like a hungry wolf; the more you feed it, the stronger it grows.
My heart grew into a miserable wolf.
'The Savior anomaly's usage, the validation of the Monkey's Paw and the Hate Pill, and Noh Do-hwa's characteristics.'
'I've gained enough from the 590th cycle.'
'From the start, I intended this to be a semi-vacation cycle.'
I grew kinder to Noh Do-hwa.
Using our limited resources, I made delicious meals. As Noh Do-hwa once said in the 100th cycle, my cooking skills were Michelin 4-star chef level.
Even amidst the cannon sounds and screams in Saipan, I found charming paths for walks with Noh Do-hwa.
In short, I used various means to gain Noh Do-hwa's favor.
"Hmm…"
Despite my desperate mental efforts, Noh Do-hwa said little.
No.
"Today's coffee is good."
She grew kinder.
Her sharp remarks softened, and her usual sneer turned into a more gentle smile.
She even expressed interest in learning to cook, asking me for lessons, and chatted during our walks.
Simple daily life. Ordinary joys.
With no place to attach myself, my mind clung to Noh Do-hwa's small kindnesses.
A year passed.
Noh Do-hwa became my sole source of happiness.
"Good night, Undertaker…"
"Ah, yes. You too, good night, Craftsmaster."
As usual, I fell asleep in the hut's bedroom.
And when I woke up.
"Ah."
Noh Do-hwa's voice was close.
"Oh dear, you woke up…?"
A bit too close.
Noh Do-hwa was on top of me, her weight pressing down.
"You can go back to sleep if you want…"
But I couldn't.
Thud.
The main pressure point was my neck.
The former public servant, Craftsmaster, and manager who once called herself my accomplice, was now strangling me with a faint smile.
"...…"
I opened my mouth but no words came out.
The opponent was Noh Do-hwa, the last person you'd expect to be mentioned purely based on combat power among the awakened.
If I wanted, I could immediately shake off her hands.
But looking into her black eyes up close, I saw they were saying something else.
"Please don't resist…"
Her lips spoke as well.
"It would be troublesome. The moment you activate your aura, I'll take my own life. You wouldn't want that, would you?"
"...…"
"Of course, you could cut off my limbs and prevent me from doing so… But I doubt you'd go that far."
Noh Do-hwa's grip tightened on my neck.
I choked, bubbles forming in my throat.
I tried moving my limbs, but my prosthetic arms and legs, installed by Noh Do-hwa, didn't budge.
"Wh-Why…?"
"Ah, sorry. I tampered with them a bit during assembly."
"..."
"Oh. You're wondering since when? Well, considering your limited remaining lifespan, I'll tell you. From the moment the awakened went berserk in the Busan bunker… I started thinking right away…"
Noh Do-hwa smirked.
Her smile was darker than ever before, like poison.
Her venom seeped from her eyes to her hands, strangling my breath.
"Your choice to embrace misfortune made me worry. Was it possible for you, who finds happiness in small things, to become truly unfortunate…?"
Squeeze.
"You're a person who can find joy in anything. You must have worked hard to become like that. I can only imagine how awful the life of a regressor must have been…"
Press.
"Your mental barriers are sturdy. If breaking them was my goal, staying in Korea as the head of the National Road Management Corps was counterproductive…"
Pressure.
"So, I quit…"
Yu Ji-won was capable.
But her capabilities shone most as a deputy. As the leader of a large organization, her tendency to view everything and everyone as tools would cause problems.
Managing the National Road Management Corps, which required negotiating with numerous guilds, would spiral out of control under Yoo Ji-won's leadership.
Cheon Yo-hwa, the guild master of Baekhwa, braving the sea alone and getting stranded, was a sign of the upcoming chaos.
Noh Do-hwa had been waiting for this.
"You planned the organization so meticulously, raised it, and now the Korean Peninsula is in shambles, bringing you significant misfortune…"
It didn't end there.
"While others tried to beat you up, I saw that such straightforward attacks wouldn't deal a decisive blow. It was a golden opportunity for me."
Opportunity. What kind?
"Undertaker."
Noh Do-hwa leaned closer.
Her pitch-black eyes, as dark as a well.
Her eyes, devoid of any light, stared down at me.
"You ruined my life."
She whispered in my ear.
"You dragged me into the National Road Management Corps when I only wanted to live quietly. You claimed you wanted to save the world... 500 times? 600 times? How many more times do you plan to make me suffer…?"
"...…"
"Bastard."
Her poison seeped into me.
"Undertaker. I hate you. I always have, and I always will. If you feel guilty, even a little, for ruining my life…"
"..."
"Please, die here and now."
My body trembled.
It was hard to tell if it was due to the diminishing oxygen or Noh Do-hwa's venomous intent.
-Huikikikkik.
The Monkey's Paw wailed in the void.
The roof beams of the hut collapsed, aiming to crush Noh Do-hwa. The Monkey's Paw, trying to eradicate the source of my misfortune, was thrashing.
I summoned my aura and shattered the beam. It disintegrated without a sound, and Noh Do-hwa smiled softly.
My vision blurred.
Through the haze, I saw Noh Do-hwa lowering her head further.
"How is it…?"
She whispered.
"Is my killing you sufficient misfortune for you…?"
I wanted to laugh.
Of course.
But I couldn't move my lips, so in the blackened vision, I met my end.
It was my 590th death.
There is a small epilogue.
To summarize, the Monkey's Paw didn't pursue me beyond the regression to collect its debt.
The final 'misfortune' gifted by Noh Do-hwa was significant enough even for the Monkey's Paw.
Yes.
The [Total Luck Law], which might have grown into an ocean-class threat, was safely dealt with.
"...? What are you staring at?"
"Nothing."
I debated whether to tell Noh Do-hwa about the previous cycle but decided against it.
If I did, she might genuinely despise me.
There was no need to invite misfortune this cycle too.
"Hm?"
Noh Do-hwa, sitting far away at her desk, tilted her head.
She got up, walked over, and frowned as she looked up at me.
"What's this all of a sudden?"
"…Hmm. Undertaker, it seems you're starting to go bald."
"What?"
What nonsense was that?
"Bald? In my 591 regressions, I've never lost a single hair. My hair is very healthy."
"Really? Well, I must be mistaken. Still, it's better to be cautious…"
Ten years later.
When I looked in the mirror, I saw that Noh Do-hwa's warning was accurate. My hair was thinning in an M-shaped pattern.
"...…"
As if it were the final payment for the misfortune I owed.
-Uikiikik.
I must emphasize once more.
Anomalies were truly dangerous.
-x-X-x-
The God Slayer I
Recently, I had been deeply immersed in my extremely personal relationship with Noh Do-hwa (murder) and our overly private conversations. Sometimes, it was necessary to talk about external matters. This time, to catch our breath, let's discuss the latest trend in our apocalyptic era.
In the past, humanity used terms like 'modernism' and 'postmodernism' to construct buildings and write literature. However, to the MZ generation of the apocalypse, such terms were outdated concepts. The new generation had evolved to be more practical.
"Are you crazy?"
"Pardon?"
"I counted the steps in the new house you built, and there are thirteen. Why did you build it that way? Do you want to take a tour to the depths of hell while coming down the stairs?"
"Well, the local carpenter just built it as he saw fit…"
"You must have some serious grudges against that carpenter. Cut ties immediately and hire a different one. Reduce the steps to ten or nine."
"Is that really necessary?"
"Take it or leave it. It's your life on the line, not mine. What's this? You even built a basement? Your survival rate would be higher if you jumped off a building roof than living in this house. It's as if you posted a notice inviting anomalies to live here."
Abyssalism.
This was the latest trend in the apocalypse. Abyssalism focused less on 'how to live comfortably' and more on 'how to avoid getting screwed by anomalies.'
It didn't start this way.
During the times when nuclear bombs flew and civil wars broke out, humanity thought scientifically. They built solid concrete bunkers to hide in, or lived as isolated survivalists. By scientific standards, these approaches made sense.
However, the new anomalies that emerged in the apocalypse had a rich literary sensitivity and preferred inverting causality.
"Waaah… Waaaah…!"
"Why is that beggar acting crazy?"
"Don't even ask. He used to be a high-ranking corporate executive. He dragged his whole family into an underground bunker."
"What? An underground bunker? Crazy."
"Yeah, crazy. A bomb dropped on the bunker overnight, and his entire family turned into ghosts. He barely escaped to Busan. Is he even truly alive?"
"Waaah! Waaah!"
Anomalies didn't favor scientific approaches or causality. They loved 'reversing causality.'
Take underground shelters as an example. Bunkers were designed to protect against air raids, bombings, and nuclear attacks. Scientifically, bunkers were safer than ordinary houses. Unless you had a relative named Osama bin Laden, the chance of a hidden bunker being targeted by missiles was extremely low.
However, anomalies thought differently. Bombs existed because bunkers did. The presence of a bunker necessitated a bombing.
Thus, those who hid in bunkers invariably faced missile bombardments. The Gimhae plains were devastated. That day marked a paradigm shift for humanity.
"Hey, someone's calling me."
"Damn it, don't answer! Never answer! Use your smartphone only to access SG Net. Turn it off otherwise!"
Phones? They weren't for hearing someone's voice but rather tools to communicate with unseen entities. Unless you were a high school student who enjoyed ghost stories, making or receiving calls was foolish. According to 'Abyssal Communication Studies,' real human interaction was face-to-face only.
"Why did you put a mirror in the bathroom, you idiot?"
"Huh? Because it's a bathroom…"
"Your reflection in the mirror looks different from your actual face! Get rid of it now!"
Mirrors? They were tools that isolated beings identical to oneself in another world. They should never be used as interior decorations.
Humanity had grown too lazy and dependent on tools. In the updated apocalypse, more careful choices were necessary.
"Ancient people lived fine without phones…"
"We can live without mirrors too. They were always stressful, except for the bathroom mirror right after a shower."
And so, humanity adapted. People decided to live without phones, mirrors, and modern conveniences. After all, ancient ancestors hunted mammoths without such things.
However, there was one tool humanity couldn't abandon. The thought of letting go of it meant regressing to prehistoric times. Surprisingly, it wasn't the internet. Nor was it smartphones.
The tool that humanity, especially Americans, clung to until the end was—
-Bang!
The protagonist of this story: guns.
Sometimes, when I read modern fantasy where characters fight with swords, I wonder why they don't use beautiful and stylish guns instead of clinging to primitive melee weapons. Are they medieval barbarians?
The disdain for firearms in some creative works has a long history. When monsters appeared in the hills behind Tokyo-3, the Self-Defense Forces used advanced weapons to no effect. Someone coolly muttered, 'What a waste of taxes,' sealing the fate of firearms in subculture.
Monsters also seemed influenced by modern fantasy. Boss-level monsters shrugged off bullets, missiles, and nukes but became squishy under a little 'aura-infused' knife attack.
"Shoot! Shoot them all! Those bastards are nothing! Just aim and fire!"
-Screech!
Of course, some monsters were vulnerable to bullets. Goblins and orcs, born to be humanity's experience points, were quite susceptible to firearms. These village-class monsters were numerous. South Korea, a conscription nation, had much fun with guns right after the apocalypse. However, firearms quickly lost popularity. After Ten Legs enjoyed an omakase mukbang with the South Korean military, firearms vanished entirely.
Why did firearms fall into disuse? A representative story explains it.
"Haa…"
One day, Cheon Yo-hwa, visiting my café, sighed deeply. Even the spoon stirring her beloved cream latte seemed devoid of strength.
"What's wrong?"
"Ah, it's… teacher, lately, there have been more conflicts among our students."
"The Baekhwa High girls? Isn't their rivalry always intense?"
Baekhwa High School had a resident anomaly known as 'Yuri' (not to be confused with Go Yuri). It was a unique boundary-forming ghost that even I couldn't exorcise, so we left it alone. Consequently, Baekhwa High School constantly played out a fierce drama of love and hate, making every day new for Cheon Yo-hwa, who was in the middle of it.
"I can laugh off their usual rivalries, but it feels like they're crossing a line lately. A girl almost died the other day."
"Oh."
"I don't mind if they bicker, as long as it doesn't harm others. But if someone dies, it affects our whole guild. Ruining the atmosphere is secondary."
"Hm."
"I gave the perpetrator a full course of water torture to wake her up. She claimed she didn't know it would go that far. When I probed her mind, she seemed sincere. Sir, could this be an anomaly?"
Anomalies didn't adhere strictly to logic. What mattered was that 'one of the top guild leaders in Korea had reached a critical stress point.' A single injury among Baekhwa High School guild members meant little. But 'Cheon Yo-hwa's depression' could trigger unpredictable butterfly effects.
If she started destroying cities to relieve her stress, it would be a serious problem.
If you didn't recognize the reference, had you forgotten about The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya?
Anyway, I smiled gently.
"Yo-hwa, shall we visit Baekhwa High to check for any sectors infected by anomalies?"
"Really?"
Cheon Yo-hwa's face brightened, then fell.
"But, Sir, you're very busy. I'd feel guilty if you came just for us…"
"It's fine. Baekhwa High School is essentially a temple sealing Infinite Void. Regular inspections are necessary. And if you feel something is wrong, it's worth investigating."
"Thank you so much, Sir!"
I had chosen correctly.
We passed through the Inunaki Tunnel and headed to Sejong City. On the way back to Baekhwa High School, Cheon Yo-hwa smiled and chatted with me.
"Wow, it feels like just yesterday we toured schools together for years. Time flies."
"For us, it's been years, but for others, only a day has passed."
"Haha, true! That's why it feels even stranger. Ah, this way, Sir."
Baekhwa High School had changed quite a bit since our last visit. Classrooms were repurposed. Elevators were closed, and the fourth floor was sealed off with caution tape.
"This is the perpetrator's room."
"Is it alright for me to enter?"
"She almost killed someone! She's practically a murderer. We're still waterboarding her. Why care about her privacy? We've already done a full search."
Dang Seo-rin and Cheon Yo-hwa, the prominent guild leaders of this land, were both fond of water torture. The favorable water quality of the Korean Peninsula remained influential.
Indeed, normal people had to rely on me, the cultured undertaker, as their pillar of support.
I searched the room thoroughly. Cheon Yo-hwa's claim of a thorough search seemed true. Nothing new was found in the perpetrator's room.
"Hmm?"
But the window frame felt odd. Tap-tap. I knocked on it, and the plastic sounded overly hollow.
"What's wrong, teacher?"
"There seems to be an empty space here."
"Ugh."
I slid the window aside and examined the frame. Sure enough, there was an artificial gap.
"Let me use some aura."
"Oh, go ahead."
Black aura formed on my fingertips. I traced the gap with my aura, and as expected, it revealed a hidden space. I frowned at the item hidden inside. Cheon Yo-hwa's face darkened quickly, like a front-line soldier finding a hole in the DMZ fence.
"This crazy bastard."
Cheon Yo-hwa muttered gloomily.
The hidden item was a pistol. I immediately picked up the K5 pistol and fired it out the window.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The sound of gunfire echoed through Baekhwa High until the 13 bullets were spent. Far away, students seemed startled, but I had no time to worry about them.
"Phew."
"Haa…"
Only after the loaded bullets were spent did we sigh in relief. This anomaly was truly dangerous. Both Cheon Yo-hwa, the guild leader of Baekhwa, and I, a regressor, had been tense.
"Good thing I called you, teacher. If we left it, at least one person would have died, maybe thirteen."
"I'm glad I came."
Indeed, the reason firearms became useless in the apocalypse, or rather 'dangerous,' was because every gun in this world was possessed by an anomaly.
[Chekhov's Gun].
This anomaly turned all firearms into deadly hazards.
-x-X-x-
The God Slayer II
There was once a Russian medical student from a poor family named Anton Chekhov. As is often the case, Russia was a land filled with a peculiar magic. The more unfortunate the Homo sapiens of that land, the more their writing prowess seemed to flourish. Chekhov died young at 44 from an incurable disease. Having grasped the three accursed elements of 'Russia,' 'poverty,' and 'incurable disease,' Chekhov exchanged his life for an extraordinary literary talent. It was as if all the evil spirits of Russia whispered to him to become a writer. Through this grand dark magic, Chekhov emerged as a great literary figure.
Chekhov once said:
"If a gun is hung on the wall in the first act, it must be fired in the last. If not, don't bother hanging it there."
This is known as "Chekhov's Gun." Chekhov probably intended to say, "Use foreshadowing well, you writers." However, as with all dark magic, Chekhov's spell had unintended aftereffects. Incidentally, Chekhov worked in Siberia, and the weather patterns originating from there are famous for affecting the Korean Peninsula every winter. Even the greatest sorcerers cannot escape meteorological phenomena. Chekhov's dark magic, too, rode the winds and landed on the Korean Peninsula.
Here is a concrete example.
"Hey! Look at this! It's a gun!"
"Wow. A military unit must have dropped it. Good job! Thanks to you, we found it."
"Hehe."
In Seoul, there was a loving couple. Despite the apocalypse filled with anomalies, they were living a pure love story. One day, they found a gun and ammunition left behind by a military unit. The couple, thinking it was a great find, took the weapon.
And then.
-Bang!
Less than two weeks later, one shot the other.
"Ugh... Miro, why...?"
"Sorry, Oppa. I don't have the will to live anymore. So let's die together."
"No..."
The couple, who had been living a happy love story, suddenly plunged into a tragic tale. This was just the tip of the iceberg.
-Bang!
Another family found a gun and that very night, the entire family was shot dead. Someone, bewitched by an anomaly, hallucinated that enemies were attacking from all directions and massacred their family.
"Aaaaah!"
By dawn, realizing that the 'enemies' they killed were actually their family, the person took their own life with the same gun. Similar cases were countless.
-Anonymous: There's a group of survivors who built a hideout next to my neighborhood, but last night they got totally wrecked lol.
-Anonymous: I heard gunshots all night. Seems like they had a stockpile of guns. When I checked, they were screaming and shouting like crazy.
-Anonymous: They looked like a tight-knit group from the same hometown, but one gun destroyed them all.
You get the idea.
That's right.
The dark magic cast by the Russian writer ensnared all firearms. Every gun became haunted by the anomaly known as "Chekhov's Gun."
In this world, if a gun existed, it would inevitably be fired at a crucial moment. More precisely, crucial moments were forcibly created because of the gun's presence.
Lovers' deaths. The collapse of close-knit groups. Regardless of the people or events, if a gun existed, it would invariably lead to dramatic moments until the ammunition ran out. It was a modern-day version of Paris's Golden Apple. Wherever a gun existed, discord and tragedy ensued.
"Hey, put down that gun!"
"Shut up! My family's dead! Why should I stay in the army? You all die too!"
-Bang, bang, bang!
The South Korean military, once advancing towards Seoul to claim the throne of the Korean Peninsula, was swiftly annihilated. While the Ten Legs devouring the military played a major role, the final blow was delivered by Chekhov's Gun.
"If we start an internal conflict here, we'll lose all hope..."
"Hope? Screw that! Die!"
"Stop him! Why are you all loading your guns too? Are you insane?"
In short, the entire unit erupted in gunfire. Rumor had it that even the division commander was killed in the crossfire. Fortunately, firearms in South Korea were concentrated in military units, so only military power was lost. The USA, however, where every household deemed a shotgun essential, faced severe consequences. Within a month of the apocalypse, 50% of Americans had died. If they had known this would happen, even the staunchest opponents of gun control might have reconsidered.
Thus,
-[Samcheon] WitchJudge: This is a notice to all members of the Samcheon World guild and all awakened individuals entering Busan. Firearms are strictly prohibited in Busan. Violation will result in...
-[Baekhwa]13thGrader: An illegal firearm was found in Sejong City! There will be a public execution in front of the government building at lunchtime today. Please show your support! (>_<);;
Not just North America, but the entire world, including the Korean Peninsula, began rigorously regulating firearms. Possession of a firearm was almost a guaranteed death sentence. Killing someone was bad, but possessing a gun was worse. Guns didn't just kill; they sowed discord and ensured tragedy. In a way, "Chekhov's Gun" was less fitting a name than "Forced Tragedy Ensurer."
This was why Cheon Yo-hwa muttered, "This crazy bastard," upon discovering a K5 pistol in her guild.
"Now then."
We thoroughly searched Baekhwa High School. Thankfully, there were no other firearms besides the one found in the window frame.
"Why did your guild member collect and hide a K5 pistol?"
"Well, we interrogated her with some waterboarding. She had a crush on the vice president of our student council."
Cheon Yo-hwa sighed.
"But the vice president is dating someone else. That person was the victim in this case..."
"A love triangle?"
"Yes, something like that..."
This story felt distant from my own experiences, making me feel like an observer.
"So, the perpetrator planned to kill the victim with the gun? Foolish. She wouldn't gain the vice president's love that way."
"Well... It's a bit more complicated."
Cheon Yo-hwa scratched her cheek.
"She planned to use 'Chekhov's Gun' to justify her actions."
"What?"
"Her plan was to pretend she found the gun while we were on one of our regular patrols in Seoul. Then, during patrol, she would act like she was possessed by 'Chekhov's Gun' and accidentally shoot the victim."
Cheon Yo-hwa made a finger gun and mimicked firing.
"She intended to disguise it as an accidental shooting caused by the anomaly."
"Acting?"
"Yes, acting. She thought that by pretending it was an accidental discharge, she could argue that she was possessed by the anomaly. She figured she might face demotion but wouldn't be expelled or executed. Kids these days are so cunning."
I was somewhat astonished.
"So, she planned to disguise a murder as an accident caused by an anomaly?"
"Yes. Isn't it terrible?"
Incredible. I had heard stories of guild members abandoning annoying colleagues during explorations, but rarely did someone actively plan to use an anomaly as a cover for murder. Human malice truly had no limits.
"..."
At that moment, something clicked in my mind.
A student's idea of using 'Chekhov's Gun' sparked a realization.
Gun. Destruction. Gun. Malice. Gun.
Various words intertwined in my mind.
"Teacher? Are you okay?"
"..."
"Oh, you're deep in thought."
Cheon Yo-hwa, familiar with this sight, went about her business. It took me about three minutes to fully process my revelation. During that time, Cheon Yo-hwa stood guard as if protecting a meditating colleague.
"Yo-hwa."
As soon as I spoke, Cheon Yo-hwa smiled, as if she had been waiting. She handed me a cup of tea brewed with green tea leaves.
"Yes. Did you come up with something good?"
"Yes. If all goes well, I might acquire the strongest weapon on the Korean Peninsula this time."
"The strongest weapon on the Korean Peninsula?"
Cheon Yo-hwa tilted her head.
I covered the cup with my palm and nodded.
"Yes. Yo-hwa, what do you think is the strongest weapon on the Korean Peninsula?"
"Hm? Uh, let's see... North Korean nuclear missiles?"
"Those didn't even scratch the Ten Legs and disappeared. Think of a weapon more practical for human use."
"Um... The Four Tiger Evil-Cutting Sword?"
As expected of the student council president of a prestigious private school, she was knowledgeable about peculiar artifacts. Incidentally, Cheon Yo-hwa scored top marks in Korean, Math, English, and Korean History on the college entrance exam. In case you're wondering how she took the exam in a collapsed world, well, a unique anomaly and void appear in Korea every November called the "College Scholastic Ability Test." Despite the bizarre questions, Cheon Yo-hwa achieved near-perfect scores. If you searched her bag, you'd even find an 'Honorary Seoul National University Student ID.'
In any case,
"That sword is quite powerful, but it's still weaker than my cane-sword. It never created any true legends. The strongest weapon today is one that holds a powerful 'story' capable of defeating anomalies."
"Um... I don't quite get it. I'm not very interested in weapons. Did our country ever have such a weapon?"
"There is one."
I smiled.
"Yo-hwa, have you ever heard of 'The Heart of a Beast'?"
"The Heart of a Beast?"
The bullet that killed a god. A German-made Walther PPK pistol. Serial number 159270. The strongest treasure on the Korean Peninsula. The bullet that pierced the heart of Yu-sin.
That's right. The gun that assassinated the former president was calling out to me, the Undertaker, to come and claim it.
Surprisingly, the firearm that achieved the monumental feat of 'assassinating a president' wasn't preserved in a museum. Its whereabouts were completely unknown.
After the assassination by the head of the Central Intelligence Agency, the pistol was moved to the Army Forensic Science Laboratory. After forensic analysis, it went to the Security Command, then to Army Headquarters. After the trial concluded, it was supposed to be returned to the Central Intelligence Agency.
In Korea, when an item passes through more than three government agencies, it means its ownership is eternally relinquished. The 'strongest treasure on the Korean Peninsula' was no exception. Naturally, the Walther PPK pistol vanished.
The Central Intelligence Agency claimed:
-The Security Command confiscated it.
The Security Command asserted:
-We returned it to the Central Intelligence Agency long ago.
If this scene seems familiar, it's not a coincidence. Bureaucrats everywhere share the same DNA.
However, it's not just a matter for ridicule. Facing a cursed demon gun... no, a demon pistol, the bureaucrats might have instinctively felt fear. It was a monstrous relic that shouldn't exist in this world. Mere mortals were eager to send it back to the divine realm.
Yes. The bureaucrats were right. The wisest way to deal with a curse was to pretend it didn't exist. The Korean government succeeded in sealing the cursed relic using the most sensible method.
And now, I, the Undertaker, needed that relic. Desperately.
Immediately after parting ways with Cheon Yo-hwa, I headed north from Sejong City. I arrived in a district of Seoul.
[…Mr. Undertaker.]
The Saintess, who often spent her time monitoring my activities through the countless CCTV cameras she had set up, finally spoke.
"Yes?"
[Are you really planning to enter there? You've always warned me not to enter that void.]
"Yes. You shouldn't go in, but I can."
[...]
I ignored the Saintess's silence and looked up at the scene before me. In the background stood Namsan, a landmark of Seoul. Naturally, there was a building that should be there.
The headquarters of the Central Intelligence Agency, or the more familiar "Agency for National Security Planning" for some. Now, it was a void.
That's right.
As mentioned in the previous story, the pinnacle of genre literature, "monopolizing opportunities," had met its end in our world. The sinister anomaly known as the Total Luck Law saw to that. But why grieve? A specialized Chinese restaurant's sweet and sour pork is better than a buffet's. Even if monopolizing all dishes was forbidden, enjoying the best one was enough. I, the Undertaker, prided myself as a gourmet, second only to Dang Seo-rin and the Ten Legs on the Korean Peninsula.
"Saintess, I'm going to farm the 'weapon that slayed a god.'"
[.....]
"Please watch over me."
Today, I was going to claim the greatest treasure on the Korean Peninsula.
-x-X-x-
The God Slayer III
The void of Namsan.
The anomaly that resided here was the Central Intelligence Agency, often referred to simply as "CIA." If one preferred a more dramatic name akin to those from the Fate/Stay Night series, it could be referred to as "The Gun that Pierced the Heart of Dictatorial Power" or "The Priests of Holy Water Resisting Communism."
"This damn primitive country!"
In the distant past, Old Man Scho despised this void the most.
"I'm not a bloodthirsty communist revolutionary, but a social democrat advocating gradual reforms through the parliament! Ultimately, I aim to seize parliamentary power and transition to exclusive party power, not the extreme left! Why do they call me a commie?!"
Old Man Scho had a reason for his fervent ideological proclamations.
- Catch that commie bastard!
- The target is strongly resisting.
- Director, he's a foreigner. This could turn into a diplomatic issue if mishandled!
- Hey, Kim Yo-won! Just because he has a different hair color doesn't mean he's not a commie. So is Stalin a freedom fighter? Catch him when I say so!
Bang, bang, bang!
Gunfire echoed around Old Man Scho.
Indeed.
The "Central Intelligence Agency" goblins that infested Namsan appeared at every opportunity to capture humans with impure ideologies. In fact, these goblins occupied a similar position to goblins in other regions. In many ways, they had characteristics undeniably goblin-like.
A. There were many of them. While walking through the void, it was easy to encounter men whispering, "I'm actually an agent of CIA," or "My relative works in Namsan…."
B. They kidnapped people and dragged them to underground lairs, never to return. The Namsan bunkers constantly echoed with the screams of captives.
C. Underestimating these goblins, thinking, "How strong could a goblin be?" would surely lead to a nasty surprise.
Among the awakeners, no one suffered more from these CIA goblins than Old Man Scho. Whether near Namsan or anywhere else, the goblins would always pop up and fire bullets at him.
"Damn you bastards!"
The German man shouted with a distinctive diction.
If he could have met Seo Gyu, they might have recognized each other as brothers in arms.
"I am! A social democrat who endorses capitalism and liberal democracy!"
What Old Man Scho failed to consider was that in Korea, such nuanced ideological distinctions were often ignored. In this land, even Max Weber's works had once been labeled as subversive because they were pronounced similarly to Karl Marx's. A social democrat? Just a slight shade adjustment away from being a red commie.
Moreover, from the perspective of the CIA goblins, "Germany" was a region divided into West and East, much like Korea. To them, Old Man Scho was undoubtedly an East German spy.
Bang!
In one cycle, Old Man Scho indeed died from CIA's gunfire. It was a death worthy of a Darwin Award. I struggled to wait for the reunion in the next cycle. After barely overcoming suicidal urges and following proper regression procedures, I rushed to find Old Man Scho. He, aware of his shame, kept his hands behind his back. Whenever I approached to look at his face, he skillfully avoided me, maintaining his "hands behind the back" pose.
The first words he uttered were:
"Embalmer, how could such a primitive country exist?"
As expected.
Though Old Man Scho often shouted at me to stop being racist, his subconscious harbored the condescending ego of a European imperialist. I knew this would happen.
"I bet in your homeland, Nazi goblins dance hand in hand with Gestapo."
"Send me back home immediately! I'll show you what it means to settle this!"
"Well, if you're interested in witnessing World War I and II unfold alternately in the great void, I won't stop you."
"Why is humanity so primitive?!"
It was a typical line of a revolutionary turning into a dictator.
"They don't capture bald men. Why not shave your head while you're at it?"
"Shut up! No one touches my hair!"
In any case, the Namsan void was long familiar to me. I had accompanied Old Man Scho when he ground his teeth and purged the area. From then, I had been drafting strategies.
Above all, since the Saintess's residence was in Yongsan, I had to prepare meticulously to ensure the safety of my key companion.
Of course, the Saintess had no political leanings. Such collective thinking couldn't be imposed on her. However, understanding the concept of a hikikomori, the CIA agents, who lived from the 1960s to the 1980s, had a classical mindset.
To them, a suspicious person who stayed home all the time, obsessively using external communication networks (=the internet), with no proper job, screamed "spy."
[Last week, while taking a walk, I was reading Kant. Suddenly, a humanoid anomaly approached and asked me what book I was reading.]
One time, the Saintess had voiced her grievance in a slightly angered tone.
[Thinking it was a communicative type of anomaly, I answered, "Kant's Critique of Pure Reason."]
[Then it accused me of reading subversive literature.]
[Naturally, I refuted.]
[Marxism originates from a materialist interpretation of Hegel's philosophy, and Hegel and Kant remain opposing philosophical schools even today. I even support Schopenhauer, who is famously known to detest Hegel. How could I possibly endorse Marxism?]
[But the CIA agent couldn't understand my explanation at all.]
[It was an incredibly primitive anomaly.]
"Hmm…"
Even if it weren't an anomaly, that explanation would be hard to grasp. In any case, the Saintess had nearly been dragged away by the Namsan goblins multiple times. If not for her extraordinary abilities, she might have been kidnapped.
In fact, quite a few awakeners and civilians had fallen prey to this anomaly. It was only natural for me to write and register a strategy guide on SG Net for the sake of everyone.
- Hey, you there! You look suspicious. Show me what you're carrying.
"I am an American citizen."
- What?
An American passport!
After numerous experiments, I had found the most straightforward and cost-effective solution. No matter how eager the Namsan goblins were to kidnap people, they calmed down like officials witnessing a diplomatic passport when shown an American passport.
- Oh, sorry, sir. We're just intensifying inspections due to recent incidents.
"Wow. Korea is still on the front lines against communists. Very interesting."
- Yes, yes. Have a safe trip!
The goblins, who fiercely accused Old Man Scho of being a commie, suddenly became courteous gentlemen. This marked the moment when a forged American passport became a must-have for all Koreans. Now, when Namsan goblins appeared, people barely flinched. They just showed their passports and mumbled some broken English, and the goblins disappeared.
However, this strategy was only a way to pass by the Namsan goblins safely. To eliminate the Namsan goblins entirely, a "heavier item" was needed.
- Stop!
Like the one I was carrying as I walked towards Namsan.
- Who are you? Where did you come from?
- Take off your hat! This guy looks suspicious.
- Do you know where you are? Hey, punk! Look up!
I was just passing by the main gate, yet the hysterical reactions erupted. From their perspective, it was natural. They were professional enough not to shoot immediately. I was wearing a flat cap pulled low, making me appear very suspicious to them.
- Move and we'll shoot!
- Raise your hands! I said, raise your hands, bastard!
Click. The goblins pointed their guns at me. I calmly raised my hands. And just as the goblins sighed in relief― I took off my flat cap.
- Gasp…?
My head shone brightly.
Yes. This event occurred in the 592nd cycle. The curse left by the Monkey's Paw, wringing out its last bit of power, extended into the 592nd cycle.
Acute hair loss had ravaged my head, leaving no trace of the hair that had once roamed the jungle, screeching, "Ukikik!" Seeing my brilliant scalp, the goblins muttered.
- Leader?
I lowered my voice with authority.
"Troops, at ease."
- …!
The Namsan goblins hastily put down their guns and saluted. I looked at them with disdain.
Drip.
Sweat trickled down the side of their heads.
"Good job."
- Yes, sir!
The goblins shouted fervently, thankful for being spared. This was the true strategy. If I were bald and carrying exactly 290,000 won in cash, I could freely wander the Namsan void. It seemed simple, but it required a combination of rare coincidences.
First, it was rare for someone to carry 290,000 won in cash after the collapse of civilization. The fact that it happened to be me, who was also bald and near the Namsan void, was even rarer. It was an extremely unlikely scenario!
After multiple confirmations, I found that only Noh Do-hwa and I could activate this strategy. It seemed to require a person tacitly recognized as "the ruler of the Korean Peninsula."
I leisurely strolled deeper into the void. No one could stop me.
[So, Mr. Undertaker, you've deliberately carried exactly 290,000 won in cash to Namsan before?]
"Indeed."
[Why on earth?]
"Saintess, after regressing 590 times, one develops a habit of trying many things."
[What on earth?]
True to her philosophical nature, the Saintess pursued endless inquiry. But the real task was to change the world, so I moved forward like the horn of a rhinoceros.
- Leader!
- Leader!
"Good job."
Goblins popped out throughout the void, but each time they saw my beautiful scalp, they pledged allegiance. Now, only the final boss of this place, the "Central Intelligence Agency Director," remained before me.
This Director was a formidable anomaly. Even for me, taking a standard approach would not be easy. Moreover, the Namsan void encompassed CIA, and the Anti-Communist Interrogation Office. Naturally, their boss, the Director, wielded powers far beyond those in history.
But it didn't matter.
- Kraaah! You, you bastard!
Sizzle.
The Director melted like meat in a pot of stew at the sight of my bald head. Like how African sand was Hannibal's poison and Russian snow was Napoleon's, a bald head was the Director's kryptonite.
A classic example of how crucial attributes were for anomalies. In the end-times, even being bald had its perks.
[The Namsan void fell so easily…]
"Knowledge is power these days, Saintess."
In the remnants of the melted Director, the item I had been seeking throughout this episode appeared. I bent down and picked up "the gun."
The strongest treasure on the Korean Peninsula.
The German-made Walther PPK pistol.
"Ah…"
The cool, heavy sensation.
I couldn't help but smile.
"Good. Although I've defeated this anomaly before, I never paid attention to the gun. Getting bewitched by Chekhov's Gun would have been problematic."
[...]
"But now, it's time to put it to use."
You've waited long enough.
Finally, all the conditions were met.
Since the 135th cycle, when the world was destroyed by the "Logout Game," I had never stopped contemplating how to kill the deity.
The
The method of utilizing the Total Luck Law, discovered through risky experiments.
And finally, the German-made Walther PPK pistol I could obtain here.
Every step had been part of my strategy to eliminate the Outer God.
Thus, today, there will be no epilogue.
Comrades, from now on, we shall kill a god.