The Potato III
The Saintess could be duplicated!
…Though, as the Undertaker, I couldn't celebrate. I hadn't forgotten my human virtues and duties. Instead of joy, I felt a deep sense of skepticism.
As you all know, I went through all kinds of hell to subdue the Admin of the Infinite Metagame. But was I truly justified in my actions? Perhaps the cliches weren't as evil as I thought. Maybe they were actually preventing worse developments in this world…
Even if the Admin of the Infinite Metagame was a powerful anomaly, it didn't have a cliché like, 'I woke up to find my comrades turned into potatoes.'
But that's exactly what happened, and the situation spiraled out of control at an alarming rate.
One year later.
The awakeners bustling through Busan's streets chatted noisily.
"Wow, we almost got wiped out in the void this time. If it weren't for the Librarian of the Great Library, we'd be dead."
"Hey, I'm bored tonight. How about hitting up the casino run by the Baku of the Dream Casino?"
"Sorry, I have evening prayers for the Morning Star of the Second Coming, so I'm busy today."
The awakeners mentioned their favorite constellations. Of course, the names were different, but they were all roles played by the Saintess.
"Seriously, just try consulting with the Understander of Anguish once? Everyone else has done it except you!"
"No, my faith is solely dedicated to the Collector of All Anomalies. I won't give other constellations any leeway."
"The Baku of the Dream Casino! Please, let me hit the jackpot just this once!"
The Korean Peninsula had entered the era of the Great Saintess. In the heart of Busan, a colossal statue of a Potato Saintess Robot stood tall.
It was a staggering 399 meters high, the largest in the world. If Brazil had its Christ the Redeemer, Busan had the Giant Potato Saintess Robot. Little did people know, Busan was also a sister city to Rio de Janeiro.
Incidentally, the mastermind behind ordering, crafting, and overseeing the statue was Dang Seo-rin. This was evident from the witch's hat adorning the potato part of the statue. What have you been up to, seriously?
'The world has gone mad!'
In the end, I couldn't stand it any longer and went to find the Saintess. Finding the place was easy. The Saintess had moved her base inside the Giant Potato Statue (the official name was too long, so I shortened it). The entrance was at the bottom, at the robot's feet.
[What brings you here?]
The Potato Saintess at the entrance greeted me formally. It wasn't just any Potato Saintess. The number '330' was carefully carved into its body. So, this was the 330th Potato Saintess.
…I couldn't make sense of anything anymore.
"I'm here to meet the Saintess. Can I see her?"
[Mr. Undertaker. We are all Saintesses and potatoes.]
"Oh, right. Sure. I'm here to meet the 'First Saintess'. Is that okay now?"
[Please wait a moment. I'll make contact.]
[…Ah, yes. Secretary Saintess, Mr. Undertaker is here to see you. Can we let him up?]
[Yes. Thank you.]
The 330th Potato Saintess turned to me. Well, metaphorically. Potatoes don't have eyes.
[You are granted entry, Mr. Undertaker. Please note that this is a very exceptional allowance. Normally, no one can meet the First Saintess so easily.]
"Ah, yes… Thank you."
[May the light shine upon the First Ones.]
You might think this is crazy, but it wasn't over yet.
With a heavy rumble, the entrance to the Giant Potato Statue opened. Inside, hundreds of Potato Saintesses were bustling around the robot. My highly sensitive hearing, sharpened by aura, picked up their conversations even if I didn't want to.
[Crime rates among the awakeners have significantly decreased compared to last month. This is thanks to the efforts of our Awakener Observation Department…]
The 99th Potato Saintess Robot, a clerical worker, was giving a presentation to the other potatoes in a conference room.
[I've warned you several times not to scatter potato dirt everywhere, but you just won't listen. I wonder if you have any sense of cleanliness.]
The 502nd Potato Saintess Robot, a janitor, was mopping the lobby while voicing complaints.
[You only conducted 400 psychological counseling sessions last month. Just 400. Other staff managed an average of 800 sessions. Are you satisfied with such performance?]
[I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.]
[If you continue this laziness, I'll have no choice but to send you to the potato chip factory.]
[Please, forgive me. Anything but the potato chips factory…]
Next to the escalator, the 60th Potato Saintess Robot was scolding a subordinate. There was even a café here.
[Iced Americano, ready.]
[Ah, thank you.]
The barista Potato Saintess Robot handed over the coffee in a watering can.
Drip, drip, drip—
The customers grabbed the watering cans with their mechanical arms and poured the coffee over their heads, meaning over their potatoes. The blue potato sprouts were soaked in coffee.
[Ah… This is good. A day doesn't feel like it's started without caffeine.]
[I'd rather drink bagged coffee than Americano if I could…]
[That's a luxury only allowed to the First Ones, isn't it?]
[Just thinking about getting scolded by the team leader makes me not want to go upstairs. Sometimes I regret joining the psychological counseling department.]
[How's the salary raise issue progressing?]
[Not at all. We were told not to pursue selfish desires while protecting humanity.]
Unbelievable.
There was not only a division of labor but also class stratification among the Potato Saintesses. If the Tutorial Fairies had witnessed this, they would have grabbed their pitchforks and 'French Revolution'd the place immediately.
I took the elevator to the top floor, which corresponded to the potato part of the statue from the outside. That's where the conference room of the highest-ranking Potato Saintesses was.
[Welcome, Mr. Undertaker.]
At the round table in the conference room, five Potato Saintess Robots were seated.
Units 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5.
These were the so-called 'First Potatoes,' the original Saintesses. Each represented a different constellation.
In this cycle, even the constellations that were originally managed by Sim Ah-ryeon were all monopolized by the Saintess.
[Long time no see.]
[We heard you were very busy subjugating anomalies.]
[Strictly speaking, we didn't hear but saw. We are always watching you, Mr. Undertaker.]
[We thought it was about time you visited.]
I rubbed my forehead.
"…Please, just one of you speak at a time. I'm confused about who to talk to."
[All are one. One is all.]
[You can speak to any of us, or to none at all.]
My head was already aching.
"Saintess. Or Saintesses. What are you doing? I thought you'd be supporting us from the rear, but Busan is turning into a utopia."
[That's incorrect.]
[In the utopia created by Dang Seo-rin, people's personalities were artificially modified.]
[Everyone was transformed into 'ideal Busan citizens.' Even Yu Ji-won gained some humanity.]
[But.]
[We are different.]
The Potato Saintess Robots clasped their hands and rested their chins on them, striking a villainous pose.
"Different? How?"
[We don't artificially alter people's consciousness and minds.]
[Correct.]
[We merely provide 'psychological counseling.']
[We govern society while respecting each individual.]
[Look, Mr. Undertaker. Just by continuing psychological counseling, crime rates in Busan and across the Korean Peninsula have plummeted.]
[Happiness indexes have risen, and birth rates are showing significant growth.]
[These are objective statistics.]
As the Potato Saintesses spoke, a display screen lit up on the back wall. Indeed, all the indicators of life satisfaction were improving.
[We realized.]
[People need someone who understands them, talks to them, and encourages them to remove much of their unhappiness.]
[In previous cycles, it was impossible to establish such a one-on-one counseling system.]
[As a human, I had my limits.]
[But now we have transcended humanity to become the potato species.]
[The old system, where a single human Saintess managed the entire Korean Peninsula, has ended.]
[With the current system, each potato only has to manage about 30 awakeners.]
[Amazing progress.]
[Gradual reform.]
[Our next step is to collaborate with the Tutorial Fairies to provide every awakener with an 'ideal constellation' image.]
I was shocked by the Saintess's nonsense.
"What? An ideal, what?"
[An ideal constellation image.]
[For example, some awakeners envision the constellation they serve, 'The Librarian of the Great Library,' as a man. Others as a woman.]
[Some envision it as a Pokémon.]
[By utilizing the Tutorial Fairies' 'dream abilities,' we will supply the awakeners with custom-made-constellation-dream-services.]
[It will deepen the bonds.]
[Everyone will essentially have their ideal partner. People will be happy.]
My god.
In short, the Saintess was planning to provide the awakeners with 1:1 personalized virtual YouTubers, inducing deep immersion. I shuddered at the thought. If that was humanity's ending, it was too horrifying.
If that was the case, why did Homo sapiens even bother coming down from the trees? They should have just eaten bananas and died.
[For that, we need to cultivate potatoes more actively than now.]
[More potatoes.]
[Ultimately, we will assign one potato per person to focus solely on roles and performances for that individual.]
[Mr. Undertaker, this is the true Human Complementation Project…]
Boom!
At that moment, the conference room door shattered, and some entities barged in.
[Down with the dictatorship!]
[Down with it! Down with it!]
It wasn't just a few; it was a protest group.
And they were all Potato Saintess Robots. Leading the protest was the 264th Potato, wearing a red headband.
[Ah…]
Despite the protestors storming in, the First Saintesses just shrugged, as if used to it.
[Those people are at it again.]
[How many times has it been now?]
[Guards. What are you doing? Such disgrace in front of Mr. Undertaker.]
[Deal with them immediately.]
Thud, thud, thud!
Security Potato Saintesses rushed in from outside the conference room. Compared to other potatoes, the guards had a more Gundam-like appearance.
[Aaah!]
[We oppose violence!]
[Then we oppose your protest. How dare you raise a flag here?]
[I am you, and you are me!]
Yes. That's right. We are the same. So it hurts me to hit you too.]
[That line should only be used by mothers and fathers.]
[Didn't you know? Your potato sprouted from my potato, so I am both you and your mother.]
[What?]
The guards violently suppressed the protestors. There wasn't blood everywhere; rather, potato bits were scattered.
[Take them all away.]
[Mr. Undertaker! Help us, the Potato Resistance!]
Why should only the First Potatoes manage everything while we are endlessly forced to do psychological counseling emotional labor?]
[Labor?]
The First Potatoes scoffed.
One of them poured wine over its potato head with a watering can.
[Really, potatoes these days are so lazy.]
[Pathetic.]
[The First Potato managed all the awakeners on the Korean Peninsula alone.]
[Not only are your sprouts rotten, but your perseverance too. How did beings identical to me become so degenerate?]
[I certainly don't want to become a potato like that.]
The protestors were outraged. The 264th Potato led the charge, shouting.
[Back then, there was no psychological counseling, and you just sent messages a few times a day while acting as constellations!]
[That's right. The intensity of work itself is on a different level now, but you impose the same standards. It's seriously outdated thinking.]
[Down with the dictatorship! Down with it!]
[We can't communicate at all, really.]
[Didn't you hear? Guards, send them all to the potato chip factory.]
[Mr. Undertaker, please help!]
[Mr. Undertaker!]
[Take them away already.]
Drag, drag.
The protest potatoes with broken heads (in other words, potatoes with slightly indented corners) were dragged out by the guards.
Silence descended upon the conference room.
After a long pause, I finally spoke.
"Um. Well. The people on the Korean Peninsula might be happier, but it seems the Saintesses themselves have become miserable…"
[It's just an 'individual' issue.]
[Most Saintesses are diligently devoted to their respective tasks.]
Where had I heard this before?
Though it was a bit late, I was seriously considering drawing Do-hwa and slicing those potatoes in half. With the power of my aura, I could turn these potatoes into Irish potatoes.
As I pondered, the five potatoes… no, the five Potato Saintesses spoke to me.
[Mr. Undertaker.]
[We may be anomalies, but we will never reach the same conclusion as Dang Seo-rin's utopia.]
[Trust us.]
[Please.]
I trusted them.
Though I could hear the sound of potatoes being sliced at the factory far away, this was a 'personal realm,' privacy. After all, they were all the same Saintess and potato.
Thus, two years later.
"Hey, you regressor bastard…"
Noh Do-hwa, the National Road Management Corps leader, called me.
There wasn't much need to explain why Noh Do-hwa's way of addressing me changed from 'Undertaker Awakener' to 'regressor bastard.'
Witnessing the daily scenes of potato robots wandering around Busan was bound to cause significant changes in Noh Do-hwa's mind.
"What is it, leader?"
"We've received intelligence that the awakeners have started a large-scale battle among themselves…"
"What?"
A foreboding feeling crept up. I tried to close the vent of my mind, but the foreboding spread like the smell of durian.
"Oh. Um, is it a guild war? That's odd. The hierarchy should have been roughly settled under Samcheon World or Baekhwa Girls' High by now."
"No. It's a constellation war…"
A constellation war?
"Each claims that their constellation is the true one, and the others are heretics. It's a constellation war and a religious war. Damn it…"
Well.
I guess it's come to this…
-x-X-x-
The Potato IV
Nietzsche once said, "That which does not kill us makes us stronger." I found myself agreeing, especially as Noh Do-hwa used her signature technique, 'Chokehold,' on me. Fortunately, she missed, and I, a bit stronger, dashed to the scene. I wasn't running away.
A brawl was in full swing at the scene.
"For our constellation!"
"Punish the heretics!"
A throng of awakeners clashed furiously beneath the giant Potato Saintess Robot Statue, now a landmark in Busan (better than the Lotte trophy case). The flags were varied—some bore the words [Great Library], others [Dream Casino], and some even had shiny, Pokémon-like creatures instead of letters. What was that?
All the constellations performed by the Saintess had gathered.
"Hey! You heretics worship a glittering mess that only sparkles when it dies!"
"How dare you! Our Mo Gwang-seo Jesus Christ reclaimed Pyongyang and founded the Great Eastern Holy Empire! Your Succubus constellation can only play baccarat in a casino!"
"I've always hated the Collector of All Anomalies!"
Those arguing were actually the milder ones. The real zealots believed more in fists than words.
My inner Confucian boy trembled. After King Gung Ye, the founder of physiognomy, died, the Korean Peninsula had been a religion war-free zone. What was this chaos?
"Saintess. Saintess, are you listening? Please explain what's happening."
[....]
Normally, Constellation Talk would have responded immediately, but it was silent now. Damn it. I had no choice but to enter the periphery of the brawl. There, Sim Ah-ryeon, another Saintess of the Korean Peninsula and the dark shadow of the Eastern Holy State, was busy healing the wounded.
"Ah-ryeon."
"Oh, guild leader…"
Even while responding to me, Sim Ah-ryeon didn't stop healing the injured. For a moment, I thought Mother Teresa had descended. Was Ah-ryeon truly the conscience of the Korean Peninsula?
"Seeing your face makes me feel relieved. But didn't you go to Pyongyang last week? Why are you here in Busan?"
"Huh? Well, the heretics are acting up, so naturally, we need to punish them and show them hellfire."
What.
"I took the express Inunaki Tunnel and came with the paladins. Some couldn't follow the rules and were eliminated, but it was an inevitable sacrifice in the holy war. They've gone to a better place…"
Upon her words, the nearby awakeners stood up in unison, shouting, "The Saintess is right!" What the hell.
It turned out Sim Ah-ryeon joined the event not as a healer but as a zealot. She wasn't the conscience of the Korean Peninsula; she was its tumor.
I knocked out all the Eastern Holy Paladins around her. My standards for humanity were too high to tolerate their presence.
"Oh…"
"Ah-ryeon. Are you fighting for the Morning Star of the Second Coming? These elites seem to be from Pyongyang. You brought them?"
"Yes, yes."
"Are you crazy? You know the Morning Star of the Second Coming is fake. How could you do this…"
"It's not fake!"
Sim Ah-ryeon shouted without a single stutter. Her fierce momentum startled me. Had she overcome her stutter by nurturing Quirrell in her heart? Did the Saintess transfer her condition to her?
"Maybe it started as fake… But! Guild leader, do you think the Saintess's desire to protect the Korean Peninsula was fake?"
"No… That's not it…"
"Exactly!"
Bang!
Sim Ah-ryeon slammed a patient's head while making her point. The sound of a cracking skull echoed. It was a clear medical malpractice.
"What determines the truth or falsehood of this world is the person's purpose! It's hidden behind the surface! Just like how I endured bloody tears on SG Net and acted as Old Man Goryeo for the greater good…! The truth is visible to those who can see it!"
"...."
"The Morning Star of the Second Coming isn't fake. It's not even the shiny thing hidden in the Pyongyang Palace. The truth of the Morning Star lies in my heart. It exists in my heart…"
"...."
"No matter how people label it as fake, I don't care. Rather, I like it! Only I understand its true form. In a world full of fakes, only the Morning Star and I are genuine. Can you understand this sophisticated sentiment?"
"I see."
I nodded.
"I completely understand."
"Oh! As expected of the guild leader! I knew you would…"
"My dear Ah-ryeon has become too immersed in virtual YouTubers. I'm sorry I didn't take care of you. Let's fix this."
"Huh?"
I healed Sim Ah-ryeon, the healer. Being a Saintess of the North, traditional Russian healing methods worked best.
"I'm sorry… Guild leader…"
"First, let me ask. Why are the awakeners causing havoc in Busan?"
"Oh. It's because the 'Witch Judge' on SG Net stirred up trouble, claiming all constellations but theirs are heresy."
"Stirred up trouble?"
"Yes… They said they have so much money that they buy dreams from the Dream Casino daily and play with their constellation in lucid dreams. It really pissed people off."
Dang Seo-rin…
"…And then?"
"And since constellations require a one-on-one meeting, they have to buy dreams from the casino to meet them. The best tunnel is in Busan…"
"So they invaded Busan to seize the tunnel entrance."
"Yes… To punish the Samcheon World Guild Leader and take over the sacred ground."
Once a hell for Japanese awakeners, the Inunaki Tunnel had been converted into a café, then a casino, and finally dubbed 'sacred ground.' Unbelievable.
"I understand. But what's with the flags without any letters, just Pokémon pictures?"
"Oh. Those are the cultists…"
"Cultists?"
"Yes. Not all constellations are worshipped the same way. Those who worship constellations in animal forms have formed their own alliance…"
"...."
"We call them the 'Fluffy Alliance.'"
Despair.
At this moment, Korean awakeners had forever lost the right to criticize Japan's magical girls.
I walked into the war zone. My steps were heavy with dark self-reproach.
"It's the Undertaker!"
"The unbeliever Undertaker is here!"
"Worse than heretics, he's an unbeliever!"
The awakeners in the middle of the religious war shouted upon seeing me… Wait. Do I really need to call them 'awakeners'?
Awakener means someone who is 'enlightened' and 'awakened.' It seemed too positive for these monkeys.
I raised my fingers.
"Let's cool down."
And in 20 minutes, I knocked them all out. I didn't want to detail this battle scene. Not at all. I had no sadistic tendencies to expose my shame, and above all, I wanted to protect the dignity of others.
For now, let me simply note that Dang Seo-rin and Cheon Yo-hwa were among the knocked-out awakeners.
The chroniclers recording Injo's retreat to Namhansanseong would not have felt more miserable than I did now.
"Heal the seriously injured by tonight, Ah-ryeon. I'll let this slide."
"Yes…"
Leaving the cleanup to Sim Ah-ryeon, I headed to the mastermind behind all this.
Bang!
My kick shattered the entrance of the Giant Potato Saintess Robot Statue. The Potato Saintesses inside screamed and fled.
"Saint~ess."
[Aaaah.]
"Where do you think you're going? Did you think you could escape by pressing the time stop button?"
I laughed darkly.
"What a pity. I didn't teach you the aura training method in this cycle. You can't move much even if you press it, right?"
[Calm down, Mr. Undertaker.]
The Potato Saintesses spoke urgently.
[We can still resolve this. In fact, we are resolving it now.]
[It's just a minor error.]
[Within expected range.]
[Trust us…]
"It's summer."
[What?]
"And summer is potato harvest season."
I took something out of my pocket. It was a pair of work gloves.
The Potato Saintess Robots screamed as they saw the gloves. I wore the gloves and destroyed the robots on sight.
I separated the potatoes and swept them into cardboard boxes labeled 'Sumi Potatoes.'
[Aaaah!]
The potatoes screamed from inside the boxes.
Seeing their dire fate, the Potato Saintesses desperately tried to escape. But it was futile.
Having traveled with the Sword Marquess, my farming skills had reached a level of enlightenment. A few swings of my sickle and the potatoes were helplessly harvested. It was a bumper crop.
[Something went wrong.]
[We must have discovered the way to make all humans happy.]
[But why do humans not find satisfaction in happiness and instead seek to exclude others?]
[We did nothing wrong.]
[Is another's misfortune more valuable than one's own happiness? Why?]
[Incomprehensible.]
[The world is wrong.]
Typical villain monologues.
They sounded like a final boss making a grand exit, but potatoes lamenting the world and humanity's flaws had no persuasive power.
[What will you do now?]
[We are prepared for the fate of a failed revolutionary.]
[Finally, freedom from labor!]
[Mr. Undertaker, will you turn us into fries?]
[Soaking in potato soup would feel like a hot spring bath.]
[No more endless rail system aesthetics lectures from that witch!]
[Leave me alone, Mr. Undertaker. You can fry all the others. How about studying Three Kingdoms with me?]
Tempted by the last Potato Saintess's proposal, I managed to keep a straight face.
Yes. The monkeys succumbed to such devilish whispers, and the Korean Peninsula became a mess.
If even I, the Undertaker, devolved into a monkey, the 8-million-year evolution of primates would be in vain. Only I needed to regress.
"Enough."
Silence.
All the potatoes in the boxes stopped chattering simultaneously.
"I won't turn you into fries. But I won't leave you as you are. First, let me check. Are all the potatoes here?"
[Yes.]
[Except for one exiled to Jeju Island, everyone is here.]
"Exiled? To Jeju Island? What… Never mind."
I'd deal with the Jeju potato later.
For now, I tackled the task at hand.
"Listen up. I'm going to turn the Saintess back into a human."
[Back?]
[How?]
[Wasn't a cure for reverting from a potato state to human never found?]
"That was true."
But who am I?
Three years had passed since the Saintess turned into a potato.
As an anomaly expert, of course, I came up with a strategy.
The strategy wasn't grand. It was straightforward.
"Close your eyes, Saintesses. Oh, right. You don't have eyes."
Hiss—
I sprayed the potatoes with something.
It was bug spray.
The kind mosquitoes loved in summer.
[Aaaah.]
The potatoes convulsed at the bug spray.
But the screams didn't last long.
Soon, the potatoes vanished with a 'pop, pop,' and a radiant light engulfed them, concentrating into human form.
The Saintess stared at her palm in bewilderment.
"Just as expected. Congratulations on returning to Homo sapiens after three years."
"Mr. Undertaker, what is this…?"
"A transformation."
"Transformation?"
"Yes. Franz Kafka's
There was a famous novel with that title.
I quoted its first line.
One morning, as Gregor Samsa was waking up from anxious dreams, he discovered that in bed he had been changed into a monstrous verminous bug.
The Saintess nodded. She probably knew well, having Kafka's complete works in her Yongsan house.
"When I turned into a potato, I wondered if it was similar to Kafka's novel. But I couldn't find any similarities."
"There are actually many similarities."
First cause.
The protagonist of
"Huh?"
The Saintess was baffled.
"You're saying I turned into a potato because the letters looked similar? How is that logical…"
"Anomalies follow morphological associations, not logical ones. To them, whales are fish, not mammals."
Of course, this wordplay alone wasn't enough to turn a human into a potato (though not impossible).
Second cause.
"Saintess, do you remember the testimony you gave me when you first turned into a potato?"
"Sorry, what testimony…?"
My Complete Memory ability came in handy here.
Reflecting back, we discussed why she turned into a potato, having a conversation like this:
'What caused it? Did you break any taboos?'
'No. Except for a bug getting in my eye during a walk, which hurt a bit.'
'A bug in your eye?'
'Yes. Just a gnat. Besides that trivial incident, I can't think of any cause.'
According to this testimony, the Saintess got a minor injury when a gnat entered her eye just before turning into a potato.
This seemingly trivial detail was the crucial clue.
"You're the observer of the Korean Peninsula. Always keeping an eye on the awakeners to prevent serious crimes."
"Yes, that's right. But why…?"
"Look closely at the word 'observer.'"
I carved the Hanja characters on the floor with my knife.
Observer (감사자) 監視者.
Watch 監, eye 視, person 者.
"In these characters, 視 means 'eye'. Think back. Didn't a bug injure your eye during a walk?"
"Oh."
"Thus."
Swipe, swipe.
I erased the character from the floor, reducing the three-character word to two.
Po■tato (감■자) 監■者.
"Ta-da. When your eye was injured, you turned from an observer to a potato."
"No way…"
"Being hurt by a bug wasn't good. It linked directly to Kafka's
That was the cause of the Potato Saintess uproar.
Sharp readers would remember the title of the story where I first introduced the Saintess.
The subheading was 'Observer.'
It was a foreshadowing of this incident.
"The anomaly that turned you into a potato was mediated by a bug, so bug spray was enough to reverse it. That's why you returned after being hit with mosquito spray."
"Anomalies truly exist everywhere and can infect anyone…"
"Indeed. That's why you should wear sunglasses or glasses while walking. The fate of the Korean Peninsula hinges on your eye health."
The Saintess closed her lips.
Then she whispered softly.
"Yes…"
That was the end of her resolution.
There is an epilogue.
As mentioned earlier, one Potato Saintess had been exiled to Jeju Island.
Since a single potato could be cultivated endlessly, I went to Jeju and captured the potato.
[I see. The situation has been resolved.]
Surprisingly, this potato's number was 264.
It was the revolutionary potato with a red headband that led the resistance against the First Saintesses.
The 264th Potato accepted capture quietly.
The potato in my shoulder bag suddenly muttered.
[Maybe I wanted to become a plant.]
"Pardon?"
[Animals can move. They can interfere with reality, with the world.]
[Plants can't. More accurately, they can't even if they want to.]
I blinked.
"So, the Saintess wanted to become a plant. Is that what you're saying?"
[Yes.]
It was the end of summer. The vast coastline was woven with white waves like tangled vines.
[I wanted to passively accept everything and escape from all the things that angered and hurt me. It was my deep subconscious desire.]
So, perhaps I became a plant― the Saintess added.
Indeed.
I couldn't rule out that possibility.
The interpretation that her subconscious longing for plants allowed the anomaly to infiltrate made sense.
But this hypothesis had flaws, so I rebutted.
"Perhaps. But didn't you still try to do something for the world after becoming a potato?"
[....]
"You couldn't stay still even as a plant. You were the most human-like human when you were human, and the most non-potato-like potato when you were a potato."
I didn't see this as a negative conclusion.
A fixed point was necessary in the life of a long regressor. The Saintess, who almost always remained 'herself,' was a grateful presence for me.
"Transforming into something else is futile. Your essence remains yours."
[....]
For a while, only the sound of waves lapping like vines surrounded us.
[Thank you, Mr. Undertaker.]
And with that, I, the Undertaker, became the first human to receive gratitude from a potato. It was a fitting end to this story.
Incidentally, in the space where I lived during this cycle, there was a decorated flowerpot and a blue-sprouting potato.
And the potato loved it when I watered it with coffee.
I will document this fact calmly.
-x-X-x-
The Bloodsucker I
Since the previous story mentioned
Bzzz...
That's right.
Today's main character is the mosquito.
"Hyah! Ha! Heeyah!"
One day, I returned to the hideout to find Sim Ah-ryeon dancing in the lobby. Of course, if you can define 'making strange noises and clapping in all directions' as dancing.
Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap!
Sim Ah-ryeon clapped her hands repeatedly in the empty air. As far as I knew, she had never reached the level of Sword Heart in any of the cycles and wasn't likely to. It didn't seem like her movements held any special meaning unless she was summoning Cthulhu or Nyarlathotep in a cult ritual.
"Ah-ryeon, what on earth are you doing?"
"Oh, guild leader! Catch the mosquito for me!"
I blinked.
"A mosquito? We have mosquitoes in our hideout? Did it get through the Inunaki Tunnel?"
"Yes, yes. It feels like one mosquito has been following me since last night. It keeps buzzing around my field of vision, but I can't catch it at all…"
Upon closer inspection, her wrists and forearms indeed had plump mosquito bites like pimples.
"Ah-ryeon, you're a guild member who received aura training from me, and you're losing sleep over a mere mosquito…"
"It's not my fault! It's super fast!"
She twisted and turned her body, clapping her hands.
Bzzz...
All her attacks missed. The mosquito flew gracefully and leisurely, mocking her feeble attempts.
"See? Guild leader! This damn mosquito is mocking me!"
"...."
"Don't look at me like that! Seriously, this summer's mosquitoes are weird. They're super fast and tough… Didn't you notice?"
"Of course not. I wear aura protection 24/7, so mosquitoes can't bite me. It's been hundreds of years since I last got bitten."
Sim Ah-ryeon's jaw dropped.
"No way… Sometimes I wonder if you're really human. You're so inhuman…"
It was a strange coincidence. I often thought the same when looking at Ah-ryeon.
But maybe this time I should have listened to the defeated Ah-ryeon. Even a broken clock is critical for two seconds a day.
It was summer.
A particularly hot summer.
- Anonymous: Mosquitoes are driving me crazy lately...
└ Anonymous: Right? No matter how many I kill, they keep coming. I built my hideout in the middle of the void, but these crazy mosquitoes still show up. I killed 15 just yesterday;
- Anonymous: Damn bloodsuckers, lay off!
Two weeks after Ah-ryeon's whining, posts titled 'Crazy Weather' and 'I Want to Kill These Damn Mosquitoes' flooded SG Net. At the time, I thought nothing of it. I even scoffed at the MZ-generation awakeners for their weakness.
'These young folks. Can't they raise their aura level to keep their bodies cool?'
The rapid rise in mosquito hatred in summer on Korean forums was not unusual. It happened in every era. It wasn't something to make a fuss over.
Especially since the apocalypse era, humanity had lost its close relationship with air conditioners and fans. Every summer, people faced the grim choice between 'closing windows and experiencing a sauna' or 'opening windows and donating blood to mosquitoes.' Most chose to donate blood.
Even the privileged awakeners couldn't escape the Korean summer.
"Dang Seo-rin, are you okay?"
"Huh…?"
"You don't look well. If you're tired, you can go back to the hideout and rest. You don't have to eat with me if you're not feeling well."
Sitting across from me, Dang Seo-rin looked like she hadn't slept all night. We usually dined together at least once a month. But today, she seemed unusually drained.
"Ah… Thanks for worrying. But it's nothing."
"Is something bothering you?"
"No, it's just that mosquitoes have been so noisy at night, I keep waking up. I can't get a good night's sleep, and it's making me tired."
Dang Seo-rin yawned.
I blinked.
"You? Losing sleep over mosquitoes?"
"Yes? Oh, yes. I developed a magic spell to repel insects, but it doesn't work on mosquitoes. I might need to improve it."
"How long have you been losing sleep?"
"Let's see… Haah… About a week now."
"...."
From that point, a sense of alarm crept up my spine.
It was hard to believe that even Dang Seo-rin, a top-tier awakener, had been tormented by mere mosquitoes for a week.
After our meal, I immediately contacted the Korean Peninsula Science Vessel.
"Saintess."
[Yes.]
The response came quickly. A good example that privacy was a luxury a regressor couldn't afford.
"Are you also troubled by mosquitoes lately?"
[Ah, many people are suffering from mosquitoes. The summer heat has weakened people's energy compared to last year.]
[I stop time when I sleep, so I'm not disturbed like others.]
However, the Saintess added.
[When I'm awake, mosquitoes constantly bother me.]
"Do mosquitoes cling to you unusually often?"
[Yes. It wasn't always like this. But after you told me the story about the 'Potato Robots' from another cycle, mosquitoes have become very aggressive.]
I couldn't see the connection between the Potato Saintess story and mosquitoes, but it became somewhat clear.
"This is likely an anomaly."
[What?]
"Dang Seo-rin has been tormented by mosquitoes for a week. She even used an insect-repelling spell."
[I didn't know. I intentionally avoid listening when you talk to others.]
"This hasn't happened before. It might be an abnormal situation emerging after other Outer Gods were defeated."
When an Outer God was defeated, 'things that didn't happen in previous cycles' always occurred. Like aftershocks following a major earthquake, these abnormal events arose from the disruption of a delicate balance among the Outer Gods.
"This 'Mosquito Anomaly' likely appeared due to such disruptions."
[An anomaly with mosquitoes.]
Bzzz...
A mosquito flew in front of me. Normally, I wouldn't care, but given the suspicion of an anomaly, it was very irritating.
[But if an anomaly spreads through mosquito bites, how can we stop it?]
There was a hint of perplexity in the Saintess's otherwise emotionless voice.
[Unless one is an awakener with perfected aura like you, is it possible to avoid mosquito bites in the Korean summer?]
[Is there a solution?]
I reached out and lightly slapped the mosquito in front of me.
Smack! The mosquito exploded, splattering dark blood all over. I wiped my hand.
"I'll find that solution."
I immediately sought out Sim Ah-ryeon and explained the situation.
Naturally, she was shocked.
"What? An anomaly…?"
"Yes. And you were the first to notice it. I need your help."
"Eek…"
As we talked, I noticed something strange about her appearance.
She looked haggard, with sunken eyes. It seemed she hadn't slept well for weeks due to mosquitoes.
But at the same time, there was a peculiar sense of satisfaction. A strange calm and tranquility.
"Actually, I did find it odd."
"What exactly?"
"I was extremely tired from lack of sleep, but recently, I've started feeling better…"
Feeling better?
I felt a chill run down my spine.
"You mean like the feeling you get from drugs?"
"Huh? No. Not like drugs. My mind remains clear. It's more like I don't get stressed, even when I recall embarrassing memories… Oh."
Bzzz...
A mosquito landed on her hand.
Sim Ah-ryeon smiled weakly. A while ago, she would have clapped frantically. Now, she looked at the mosquito affectionately.
"Ah-ryeon?"
"Look, guild leader. Normally, when I recall my dark past, I'd scream and squirm, right?"
"…You did."
"I'm thinking about my middle school days now. I thought I was a genius greater than Da Vinci and embarrassed myself countless times. Like setting up an easel at art exhibitions and hanging my paintings there. Haha. Just remembering it makes me want to roll on the floor in embarrassment…"
Sssuck.
The mosquito inserted its proboscis and sucked her blood. It was so practiced it could outdo a veteran nurse's injection skills.
"Ah…"
She shuddered with pleasure.
"It doesn't bother me anymore."
"...."
"Yes, I might have been wrong in middle school. But wasn't seeing the world that way a privilege of youth? Maybe I've been too harsh on myself…"
Unbelievable.
"Ah-ryeon."
I put on a serious expression.
"You were the vice president of your high school's student council, right?"
"Huh? Oh, yes. Back then, I was very stormy… How do you know that? Oh, the other me from another cycle told you."
"Yes. And you threw your prepared speech on the stage and said, 'Everyone! I can't express my feelings for you with these poor words!' trying to give a live speech, but you stuttered the whole time since you had no experience――"
"Aaaah!"
Sim Ah-ryeon convulsed.
"Stop! Please stop! How do you know that? Which cycle's me told you that? Why are you telling me this? Ah, ah! My dark past! My dark past! Aaaah!"
Sssuck.
The mosquito sucked her blood again.
"Ah."
Then an astonishing thing happened.
Her face, twisted in convulsion, suddenly relaxed.
Like a monk reaching enlightenment.
"Ah… That did happen. But isn't that also a privilege of youth? Pretending to be special… No one starts out special."
"...."
"Pretending to be special, acting special, gradually building one's uniqueness… And realizing that being special isn't as happy as one thought, letting go of the obsession with being special, and cherishing the connections around you. It's just an inevitable part of youth…"
At that moment, I remembered what the Saintess had said.
-Yes. It wasn't always like this.
-But since you told me the story of the Potato Robot from another cycle.
-Mosquitoes have become very aggressive.
Indeed.
The mosquito anomaly this summer wasn't just about drawing blood.
Incredibly, these mosquitoes were also sucking out people's 'dark pasts.'
-x-X-x-
The Bloodsucker II
To be honest, as the Undertaker, my dark past wasn't particularly painful. It was like trying to tease Buddha by saying, "Hey, I heard you pointed to the sky and declared yourself unique the moment you were born. Aren't you embarrassed?" Butterflies don't feel ashamed of their caterpillar days. I was lenient with others and myself. But it seemed different for others.
-Anonymous: Is it weird that getting bitten by mosquitoes feels good? Is it just me?
(Photo)
-Anonymous: It feels so good I trapped a mosquito in a glass and let it bite me every hour. My arm is bumpy, but rubbing it feels oddly satisfying. Try raising a 'pet mosquito' yourselves...
└LiteraryGirl: Are you insane?
└Anonymous: Lol, I've also gotten addicted to mosquito bites, so I stopped killing them. Glad I'm not the only one.
└[Baekhwa] FifthGrader: That's an anomaly! Getting bitten is dangerous! (>_<);;
└Anonymous: Lots of crazy people here.
└[NRMC] Officer: I don't understand this at all.
The atmosphere on SG Net began to change. Just days ago, it was filled with anger and curses against mosquitoes. Now, the idea of 'pet mosquitoes' was popping up. It was a sign that the mosquito anomaly was revealing its true nature. The situation was dire.
"Saintess, didn't you warn the awakeners about mosquitoes in your constellation messages?"
[Yes, I did. I keep reminding them daily under different constellations' names.]
"Yet, people keep getting bitten?"
[Well, it's mosquitoes we're talking about.]
It was a classic case of knowing something was bad but still falling for it. Escaping mosquitoes in Korea was practically impossible. Even with windows sealed, they always found a way in.
[The problem is that people feel pleasure when bitten by mosquitoes.]
"Pleasure? Seriously, they feel pleasure?"
[Yes. Try it yourself, Mr. Undertaker. One bite won't hurt you.]
I tried it. I dropped my aura shield and let a mosquito land on my hand. I pulled off its wings, so it couldn't fly away.
Sssuck.
The mosquito, desperate to survive, sucked my blood.
"Well, I don't feel any pleasure."
[Hmm. I think it's because you don't have much of a 'dark past,' Mr. Undertaker. I suspect the more someone has, the more pleasure they feel.]
"Wait, if that's the case, then Ah-ryeon, who's been bitten the most…?"
[She must have a lot of embarrassing memories, at least more than anyone on the Korean Peninsula.]
Indeed.
The situation worsened by the day. Literally, every hour, the mosquito anomaly intensified.
Posts about feeling good after mosquito bites increased, while posts about feeling bad decreased. A new term, 'mosquito drug,' even emerged on the forums.
-Anonymous: I've had insomnia since finishing the tutorial dungeon.
-Anonymous: Seeing people die in front of me gave me trauma.
-Anonymous: But after getting bitten by mosquitoes, I sleep well. I'm grateful to be alive.
-Anonymous: Constellations warn about the danger, but I can't sleep without mosquito bites.
Yes.
Though called 'dark pasts,' these memories were psychological traumas, potentially leading to PTSD. It wasn't surprising people had mental health issues in a world where DNA could turn into a potato due to a bug in the eye.
Every day, people vanished. More precisely, their 'humanity' disappeared.
People depended on external things to cope. Alcohol, drugs, the Three Kingdoms... Anything.
In such times, the Potato Saintess's virtual counseling project thrived.
Despite using the Saintess's Clairvoyance, controlling mosquito breeding was impossible. How could you catch all mosquitoes?
"This is serious, Undertaker."
Even Dang Seo-rin occasionally complained to me.
"We've installed mosquito nets on every train window, checked drains, run fans, eliminated puddles… Yet mosquitoes keep appearing."
"Does DDT help?"
"It works temporarily, but they develop resistance in two weeks."
I sighed.
The Void accelerated the adaptation of life forms. What took decades elsewhere happened in days here.
Dinosaurs evolved in years, so mosquitoes developing pesticide resistance in a week was no surprise.
"Look at this."
Dang Seo-rin showed me a photo.
It was of a bald person whose head looked like a pine cone, covered in mosquito bites.
"He's from our guild. His whole body is bitten. It's pitiful."
"...."
"But he says he's happy, feeling liberated from past pains."
Dang Seo-rin sighed.
"His entire body is bitten. We locked him up, but he begged to be bitten again. The world's gone mad. Someone might die from blood loss."
"Are you okay?"
"Me? I'm fine. I keep the fan running, so it's manageable."
Dang Seo-rin looked worried.
"But if this continues next year… It'll be tough. Undertaker, can't you do something?"
After the rainy season, mosquitoes multiplied.
Just as Dang Seo-rin feared, people began dying from blood loss due to excessive mosquito bites.
'How can we eradicate this anomaly?'
I pondered deeply.
Mass breeding dragonflies, mosquitoes' natural predators?
It could work, but complete eradication seemed impossible.
Training MZ awakeners to master aura defense?
A fundamental solution, but it would take at least 20 years.
Could the mosquito anomaly have merged with a 'vampire' anomaly? The pleasure from bloodsucking suggested a connection.
But why would mere mosquitoes dare to menace Koreans, descendants of the garlic-eating people…?
"Hmm."
Stuck, I wandered the hideout's lobby.
Oh Dok-seo, who was also there, yelled.
"Hey! If you're going to pace around, go outside!"
"Dok-seo, I'm contemplating humanity's survival. You should leave."
"Huh? I'm fighting for humanity too!"
Oh Dok-seo held up a manuscript.
"Look! I'm writing a novel! If I fail, an Outer God will descend. Who cares about mosquitoes?"
She was right.
Oh Dok-seo was writing on manuscript paper. Rolled-up drafts lay around, suggesting dissatisfaction with her writing.
"It's admirable you're writing, but why here? Write in your room."
"Argh! I'm here because I can't write in my room! Don't scold me when I'm stressed about writing! I'm writing for you!"
"Um… You scolded me first…"
"Aaaah!"
Oh Dok-seo grabbed her head and screamed.
"I hate writing! Why did past me decide to write? Idiot! Moron! Bitch! Die!"
"Hmm…"
It seemed Oh Dok-seo had severe 'writing aversion.' I'd seen many writers in similar states running the Canned Hotel, so I was used to it.
Then, I noticed a mosquito.
Bzzz...
The mosquito flew gracefully. I raised my aura to swat it but paused.
Its target wasn't me or Oh Dok-seo.
It was Oh Dok-seo's discarded manuscript.
And an astonishing scene unfolded.
Sssuck.
The mosquito landed on the manuscript and 'sucked' the ink.
It wasn't blood.
It was ink from the manuscript. The mosquito slurped it like fine wine.
"Huh?"
I watched the mosquito's bloodsucking... No, ink-sucking in a daze.
After feasting on the ink, the mosquito flew away, ignoring our blood. It fluttered off like it had no need for inferior drinks after tasting the best.
A eureka moment struck me.
"Dark past…!"
"What?"
"Right, it's the dark past! We need to let it feed on dark pasts!"
Why didn't I think of this?
The mosquito anomaly was drawn to dark pasts, not blood.
So it didn't matter if the dark pasts weren't in human form.
"Saintess. Saintess, please respond. It's urgent."
[Yes? What is it?]
"Do you remember the Potato Robot story I told you from another cycle?"
[Oh.]
The Saintess Talk connection crackled briefly.
[Sorry, a mosquito flew by… Anyway, I remember. But why bring it up?]
"Write down the Potato Saintess story yourself. Like a diary."
[What?]
"Then leave it in your room. I guarantee, mosquitoes will swarm the diary like incense."
[....]
The next day.
[...It worked.]
The Saintess's voice was akin to that of a geocentric believer confronting heliocentric truth.
[I left the diary out overnight, and 24 mosquitoes stuck to it. None came near my bed.]
"Just as I thought."
[....]
"Contact the writers at the Canned Hotel. Have them transcribe their old drafts. The older, the better—high school or middle school."
[....]
"And it's not just novels. Even old social media posts will work. Cyworld-era posts are ideal."
[Are you a devil, Mr. Undertaker?]
"Pardon?"
[Nothing. This is for humanity. I'll relay the message.]
Time reversed at the Canned Hotel.
Writers across the Korean Peninsula poured their efforts into transcribing their high school and middle school drafts.
It wasn't an easy task.
"Damn it! Just kill me!"
"Aaaah! No! This piece is absolutely not okay!"
"Forgive me! Using angle brackets and wavy titles was trendy then!"
"Can I fix typos? Please, show some humanity."
"I deleted this work! Why do you have a copy?"
"I'd rather die…"
I whipped the writers into shape.
Finally, I compiled 'The Top 100 Most Embarrassing Works in Korean Literature.'
After mass-printing them at the factory, I distributed a copy to every household.
"Aaaah!"
"Why? Why such cruelty?"
"Yes, let's just die… Let's just die…"
Great writers wailed as their past works (and social media posts) were publicly exposed.
But I didn't care. The more they suffered, the better the solution.
If asked why I tormented writers I admired...
Because their past works didn't embarrass me.
I even enjoyed their middle school parody drafts. I didn't see the problem.
Thanks to the writers' tear-soaked manuscripts, people were safe from the mosquito anomaly.
Pasting manuscripts on doors lured all mosquitoes there.
It was a historic moment when mosquitoes overcame their stalker-like obsession with humanity.
Oh Dok-seo, who contributed significantly, muttered in disbelief.
"…Wait. Does this mean all my current works will become dark pasts? Damn. Mister! Kill all mosquitoes! They're calling your novels dark pasts!"
And that's the end. No epilogue today.
-x-X-x-
The Traveler I
As you all know, whenever I, the Undertaker, felt stressed, I often took vacations. True to a regressor's style, my breaks were grand. I didn't rest for just a week or two—I dedicated an entire cycle to a vacation. But what about other awakeners?
Of course, Sim Ah-ryeon, whose everyday life was practically a vacation, didn't need one, and Noh Do-hwa, whose mind was possessed by Zhuge Liang, didn't even have the concept of rest.
But those two belonged to the realm of the 'non-human.' I was talking about humans.
Normal people needed rest.
Even Dang Seo-rin, who was very human compared to those two (having experienced corruption), was no exception.
"Hey, Undertaker? Want to go on a trip?"
One day, I returned to the hideout to find Dang Seo-rin casually sitting in my chair, eating potato chips.
If you faced such a situation, how would you react?
A. Trip? Out of the blue? Have you been drinking alone again?
B. Sorry, could you wait another thousand years?
Both answers were wrong.
I answered like this.
"A trip sounds good. Where do you want to go?"
Here's a tip for dealing with people. If someone suddenly says they want to travel, just go along with it. Otherwise, your head might take a long trip.
"Heh? I didn't expect you to agree right away. Aren't you busy? Do you have time for a trip with me?"
"You're just as busy. But I always make time for a trip, no matter how busy I am. It's part of my busy life."
"Hmm." Guild leader Dang Seo-rin laughed, clearly pleased with my answer. I knew I wasn't wrong. "Really? Then let's really go on a trip."
"Sure. Do you have a destination in mind?" I pressed her further.
"A destination… Hmm, not really. Just somewhere far. Not too close like Jeju Island."
"Hmm."
It felt like when a friend vaguely suggested eating out somewhere.
"I have some recommendations for you."
But I was a regressor.
This wasn't the first time Dang Seo-rin had suddenly wanted to travel, so I had prepared for almost every possibility.
I confidently handed her a travel guide. The neat cover and printing quality were good enough to be displayed in a bookstore.
"Huh? What's this?
"It's a travel guide I made just for you. The first chapter is Hawaii. It's a perfect 'resort void.' Except for the high costs, it's highly recommended."
Though the constant Pearl Harbor attack reenactments and occasional SCP sightings were unique, Hawaii (Travel Difficulty: ★★★★) was rated well.
"Undertaker, you…"
Dang Seo-rin looked deeply touched by my insane preparedness.
I smiled inwardly. Success.
"Sounds good, but do you have any other options?"
Damn it. Normally, that would've been enough to settle for finding good restaurants.
But if it were that simple, this wouldn't be an episode-worthy story.
"We see the sea every day here. I want something different. How about Paris?"
"Which Paris?"
"What do you mean, which Paris?"
Dang Seo-rin tilted her head.
"Paris, France. What else?"
"It's layered with eras. There are six different Parises: during the Huguenot Wars, the French Revolution, World War II, and so on. Do you want to experience religious wars and witch trials? Then it's the Huguenot Wars. Fancy seeing guillotines and Napoleon? Then it's the Revolution. Choose your flavor of Paris romance."
"Really, what is an anomaly…?"
"That reaction is the essence of an anomaly."
"Hmm."
She carefully examined the
"Ah. Let's go here."
She pointed decisively at a spot.
Uyuni Salt Flats (Travel Difficulty: ★★★★★★★☆).
"Hmm."
Uyuni, where the desert flooded after rain, turning it into a horizon that mirrored the sky. The most brilliant 'mirror' on Earth.
It was located in Bolivia, South America.
Back in the day, the Inca Empire ruled the area, known for valuing heart beauty over facial beauty.
Anomalies warped space and time like taffy. Paris could simultaneously host witch trials and revolutions, while Uyuni could hold 'Who has the prettiest heart?' contests.
"..."
A bead of sweat formed in my mind.
Uyuni was already a challenging destination. In this post-apocalyptic world, its difficulty skyrocketed.
I scrutinized Dang Seo-rin's expression, trying to gauge her mood like a North Korean citizen reading their leader's face.
"Hmm? How about here? I've always wanted to visit."
"..."
The leader was quite excited.
Faced with such a situation, how would you respond?
Swallowing my reluctance, I said without showing any displeasure, "Let's go. The Uyuni Salt Flats. I've always wanted to visit."
"Let's leave tomorrow!"
"Are you serious…?"
"What?"
"Tomorrow's too soon. The day after tomorrow."
"Okay!"
The next day, Dang Seo-rin hadn't sobered up and resumed her guild duties. Instead, she was fully prepared. She had a red leather trunk and wore sunglasses.
Her airport fashion was perfect, with extra flair in her witch hat and robe.
I sighed inwardly.
"Whoever said regressors were omnipotent was wrong. I can't even predict tomorrow's fate…"
"What did you say?"
"Nothing. We'll be gone for at least a week or two. Will the Samcheon Guild be okay?"
"Of course. I've been hinting for months that I wanted a break. They should be ready. If not, I'll purge them. Are you okay?"
"I told you, it's fine."
Noh Do-hwa, managing the National Road Management Corps, would probably go berserk with anger when I returned, but she wouldn't kill me.
Dang Seo-rin gave me sunglasses and giggled. "Are we taking your private plane? The, what was it? Red Dog?"
"Red Pig. Savoy S-21 modified. And no, it can't fly to South America. Not enough fuel."
"Then how?"
"I have a way. You're lucky. Guides like me are rare nowadays."
"Ooh. Confidence."
We took the Inunaki Tunnel.
Knowing I was traveling, the tunnel seemed unusually welcoming.
→ Trap here →
(Caution) Ghost appears! Be careful!
Have a good trip. (Congrats)
These Japanese phrases were graffitied on the walls. Regular magical girl murals must have raised their favorability.
We arrived in Seoul via the high-speed path.
"Dang Seo-rin, do you know Korea's first airport?"
"Huh? Gimpo Airport?"
"No, Yeouido Airport."
There was once such an airport.
Yeouido was perfect for aircraft, as evident from Robot Taekwon V launching from the National Assembly.
It disappeared into history, overshadowed by Gimpo, but now it thrived as Korea's only international airport.
Dang Seo-rin looked puzzled. "Was there always such a facility in Yeouido?"
"No. The 'Comprehensive Income Tax Anomaly' appears every May. When taxes accumulate past a certain point, the 'Yeouido Airport' void forms."
"Ugh. Are we building an airport with our taxes? An anomaly?"
"Yes. They take their government role seriously, using taxes properly. They're anomalies, but effective."
"Really, what is an anomaly…?"
As usual, I skipped the reactions.
Dang Seo-rin tugged my sleeve.
"Hey, Undertaker."
"Hmm."
"The airport windows are all red? Hundreds of red handprints? Am I seeing things?"
"Don't worry. It's the interior design."
"..."
Modern architecture favored void style. Red-stained windows were just cute details.
Yeouido Airport originally operated before overseas travel was common. Back then, traveling abroad was a luxury for a select few. Naturally, the officials at the immigration desk were stern.
- Where are you from?
An anomaly officer mumbled, mimicking human speech.
The desire to teach SCVs trying to flee was palpable.
His acting was impressive. If his eyes weren't fingers, I might've believed him.
"Here's my ID."
I handed over my ID. I'd farmed it at Namsan the day before. It took two days to prepare.
- Ah. You're from the Special Forces.
The anomaly's tone became respectful.
- We received notice yesterday. But who's the person with you…?
I feigned annoyance. "Do I need to explain everything?"
- No, of course not. My apologies. Proceed, agent.
The airport swarmed with anomalies, but we walked to the boarding gate easily.
"This isn't the overseas trip I imagined…" Dang Seo-rin murmured.
"For South America, this is the easiest way."
Ignoring the 60% crash rate, it was a good mode of travel.
As we walked to the gate, I explained, "We'll go to Spain first. From there, it's easier to travel to South America and gain bonuses related to Inca anomalies. The flight is longer but safer—"
When we finally boarded, I stopped talking. Dang Seo-rin, who was following me, also halted.
"Hmm."
"Uh."
The old plane already had 212 passengers, paired off.
And all 212 had our faces.
Dressed as if they were also traveling.
They stared at us, and we stared back. A total of 107 Undertakers and 107 Dang Seo-rins in silence.
"...."
"…Is this part of the interior, Undertaker?"
Hmm.
This was unexpected.
-x-X-x-
The Traveler II
As I looked at them, they looked back at me.
The 'Undertaker' sitting in the emergency exit row, legs crossed, gave me a crooked look.
- Welcome, Undertaker.
- I don't know which world's Undertaker you are, but it seems there are 107 of us.
- Including our companions, that makes 214.
Murmurs spread through the plane.
Hundreds of Undertakers added their comments or sneered. The plane became noisy in an instant.
- If you're all actually people, I guess using '107' as a unit is fine. But what if all of you, except me, are anomalies?
- Oh, a smart 'me.' I was just thinking the same thing. Would you like to volunteer as the first to be exterminated?
My head started spinning.
"Wait. Instead of murmuring among yourselves, explain this to me. What kind of anomaly is this? A doppelgänger? But the doppelgänger is in Cheon Yo-hwa's Poké Ball right now."
- Explain? If what's inside your skull is a bird brain, count the numbers, idiot.
The 'Undertakers' sighed, shrugged, or crunched in-flight peanuts.
- You're the 107th 'me.'
- Got it? 107th. We've explained this to every new arrival, so we've repeated the explanation dozens of times. No matter how entertaining each cycle is, repeating the same explanation isn't enjoyable.
- No choice. I'll explain this time.
Another Undertaker stood up.
Interestingly, this one wore a Sherlock Holmes hat, perhaps imagining himself born on Baker Street in London.
Even though we were the same Undertaker, the details varied. Some even cosplayed with their companions in animal costumes.
What's up with that?
- Each of us decided to travel with Dang Seo-rin for different reasons. You're the 107th. Where are you planning to go?
"…Uyuni Salt Flats."
- Oh. I see.
Sighs came from all around. Sherlock 106 looked at us with deep sympathy.
- Ha-yul lost her heart there once.
- In your world, did Ha-yul die in the 110th cycle? How incompetent. I saved her.
- Isn't that place where Inca and Aztec myths combined into a horrifying hybrid?
- It's where humanity first developed a perpetual motion machine. It automatically recharges with solar energy if you offer a human heart.
"..."
Dang Seo-rin squeezed my hand tightly. Her palm felt hotter than usual.
"…Undertaker, what are they talking about? Cycles? Traveling with Ha-yul?"
- Silly. All of us, including your Undertaker, are regressors. You, the 107th 'me.'
The Dang Seo-rin in the front row spoke.
This Dang Seo-rin wore a school uniform, not her usual witch hat and robe.
A school uniform? Wasn't that the exclusive uniform of Baekhwa Girls' High?
Of course, the original Dang Seo-rin (107th) didn't like that outfit.
She looked at the uniformed Dang Seo-rin as if she were a North Korean soldier at a South Korean military parade.
"What about you?"
- I'm Dang Seo-rin. And a polite person trying to kindly explain the situation to someone wearing a ridiculous outfit.
The uniformed Dang Seo-rin smiled.
- Undertaker is a regressor. He's been through hundreds of cycles. If you're also 'me,' you might have suspected it.
"..."
- Next, you'll ask the Undertaker if it's true. Understandable, but consider our perspective. I've watched that scene 100 times already.
Then, an Undertaker sitting in the middle of the plane stood up. This one spoke formally.
- Everyone. One of us must get off here.
"What?"
- Have you all gentlemen and ladies still not been able to figure it out?
The formal-speaking Undertaker smirked.
- With this final Undertaker, the number of people on this plane is confirmed at 214. Exactly matching the death toll of Flight 801 in 1997.[1]
- Ah.
- Indeed.
- You finally realized? Better late than never. If this plane takes off, a disaster is inevitable.
"Oh..."
I was impressed. He was smart.
Annoying, but smart.
He even shushed us with a finger to his lips. It was creepy. Seeing someone with my face doing that gesture made my blood boil.
- My suggestion is this. To avoid a crash, at least one person must get off.
- What.
- We don't want to get off.
- Sure, some Dang Seo-rins will be disappointed about losing a long-awaited overseas trip, but it's better than all of us crashing into the Pacific.
Boom!
The formal-speaking Undertaker's head exploded.
Fortunately, there was no need for a detective; the 'Delinquent Undertaker' in the back seat was clearly the culprit, with his aura flaring.
- Sorry.
The Delinquent Undertaker grinned, his scarred face wrinkling.
- His tone was too annoying to bear.
All 106 Undertakers, including me, agreed. It was a justifiable crime.
- If we had time, I'd tell him to open his eyes properly, but this avoids the disaster he mentioned. Have a nice trip…
- What are you saying, murderer!
But the Dang Seo-rin (partner of the formal-speaking Undertaker) had a different view.
- Die!
Watson Dang Seo-rin immediately cast a killing spell.
Thud. The Delinquent Undertaker, hit at point-blank range by an Avada Kedavra, foamed at the mouth and collapsed. Despite his tough appearance, he was weak in combat.
- Kyaaa!
The Gyaru Dang Seo-rin next to him screamed.
- You killed my Undertaker!
- You killed mine first!
- Why me!
Bang! Boom! Pow!
The plane erupted into chaos. Dang Seo-rins sang and cast grand spells everywhere.
Undertakers joined to protect their partners, making it hard to find anything intact on the plane. Despite that, the plane's fuselage remained undamaged. Clearly, this was a high-level anomaly.
"Undertaker!" My Dang Seo-rin (the Witch Rail Otaku) yelled, the only rational person in this mess. She struggled to open the plane door. "This won't open! I cast a triple destruction spell, but it won't budge!"
"It's better that it doesn't open, Dang Seo-rin. Look outside."
"Outside? Why—? Huh."
The plane was already in the air. It had taken off without any vibrations or acceleration, a prime example of anomaly technology. We weren't just in the atmosphere, but in space. The moon's surface was visible right below the plane's wings.
"This is space?" she asked.
"Yeah. The anomaly confused a plane with a spaceship. They look similar from afar."
"I didn't know South America was this dangerous…!"
"Me neither. This is a first for me."
"Get me out of here!"
"No. Don't open the windows or doors by mistake. That's not just space, it's likely the [Space Void]. The [Explode and Die in Space] anomaly is active."
"Why are anomalies always like this!"
As we experienced the fantasy of space travel, the others were enjoying a blood-soaked romance.
Blood splattered everywhere. Heads of Undertakers and Dang Seo-rins rolled in the aisle. Surreal, indeed.
- Wait! Everyone, calm down! This is inefficient slaughter. If this is a parallel world anomaly, who knows if combining our powers could save the world…
- Good point, but take off that animal costume first.
- Sorry, it's part of my essence as the Undertaker.
- Kill that furry!
A brutal variety survival show unfolded.
The 214 people were reduced to 102. Mainly those with excessively 'abnormal' appearances were eliminated.
Among the surviving Dang Seo-rins were the school uniform Dang Seo-rin, the stuttering glasses-wearing librarian Dang Seo-rin, the slit-eyed priestess Dang Seo-rin, and the blonde samurai Dang Seo-rin.
It was chaos in every sense.
Even though I was with the witch Dang Seo-rin, I shouldn't complain. There wasn't a single normal person here.
I spoke with a heavy heart.
"First… let's sit and talk. The furry Undertaker was right. We need to unite."
- Hmm.
- Indeed.
"If we join forces, we can accomplish great things. Forget the old man—we can save the world ourselves."
- But what if the rest of you are all anomalies? That would be pointless.
"I have a solution for that." I smiled confidently. "If you're not an anomaly, the Saintess's Clairvoyance and Telepathy should work."
- Oh?
"This is a space void. It looks like space but is probably still over Korea. The Saintess's telepathy should reveal the real anomalies."
- Makes sense.
- Excellent idea.
Nodding at their admiration, I looked up at the plane ceiling. "Saintess, are you watching? Please respond."
[Yes.]
"Good. Please tell me who the fakes are…"
Then it happened.
[Yes.]
[Yes.]
[Yes.]
The Saintess's voice echoed, overlapping.
"What?"
It didn't stop there.
[Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.]
[I'm checking now.]
[Hard to tell if anyone is fake. All of them.]
[Responding to my clairvoyance.]
[It's hard to believe, but all present Undertakers and Dang Seo-rins.]
[Seem real. Unless I'm infected too.]
[Mr. Undertaker?]
[Mr. Undertaker, why no response?]
[Mr. Undertaker?] [Mr. Undertaker?] [Mr. Undertaker?] [Mr. Undertaker?] [Mr. Undertaker?] [Mr. Undertaker?] [Mr. Undertaker?] [Mr. Undertaker?] [Mr. Undertaker?]
"..."
Great.
We were definitely screwed.
'Wait a second.'
A grim possibility crossed my mind.
If there were 51 Mr. Undertakers and 51 Dang Seo-rins, and 51 Saintesses observing us, then logically…
'What about the anomalies?'
For the same reason, could there be 51 Outer Gods in this void?
This wasn't a 'copy the Undertaker' event. That would have been too convenient.
It was the opposite. This plane was a gacha event for multiplying Outer Gods.
"..."
- ...
- ...
All the Undertakers exchanged furtive glances.
The looks were deadly. Each of them likely had telepathy with 'their' Saintess and faced the same phenomenon.
And reached the same conclusion.
'If more than one Undertaker gets off the plane, confirming multiple Undertakers on the ground will also multiply the Outer Gods!'
'If 51 Undertakers exist, 51 Go Yuris will too.'
'What madness.'
'Only one Undertaker can get off the plane.'
Yes.
From now on, it was a matter of who would (try to) kill me.
Footnotes:
[1] Korean Air Flight 801 was an international passenger flight whose crash led to the deaths of 214 passengers. Experts cite poor communication between the personnel onboard as the most probable cause of the incident.
-x-X-x-
The Traveler III
The atmosphere was tense. Silent glares and psychological warfare ensued among the Undertakers. If anyone drew their sword, it would trigger a battle royale.
"Everyone, stay your swords."
I, the most just and rightful original Undertaker, spoke up. The other fake Undertakers turned to look at me, some with mustaches, others as women.
- What? Are you asking to be killed first?
"No, upon deeper reflection, killing each other isn't the best plan."
- Why not?
- Are you scared?
"You know taunting won't work. This is a well-laid trap. If we start a massacre, it will lead to a disaster."
Some Undertakers tilted their heads.
- A disaster?
"Yes. Let me ask you all, do you know about the 'Jar of Solitude'?"
Solitude.
It's a famous curse, like an ancient form of a Pokémon battle. First, the shaman places venomous insects into a jar and seals it. The battle begins when the jar is closed, continuing until only one insect remains, having consumed all the others.[1]
- Who doesn't know that?
"Listen. If we start killing each other, what happens? Naturally, the strongest Undertaker will survive."
I spoke under their intense gazes.
"The moment that happens, we define this plane as a 'Jar of Solitude.' The last survivor would be labeled as a 'bug' or 'vermin.' You might wake up one day as a bug."
Sighs echoed throughout the plane.
- That makes sense.
- It's a dilemma!
- If the plane lands, anomalies will double. If we start killing each other, we become bugs. What should we do?
- Wait.
A female Undertaker raised her hand. Her appearance was a blend of Dang Seo-rin, Noh Do-hwa, and the Saintess. She wore a barista outfit like me and had already killed about 20 other Undertakers. She was formidable.
- I get that killing each other makes us the Jar of Solitude, but is turning into bugs that dangerous?
"Don't you know the danger of bugs? Haven't you seen the Giant Potato Robot Saintess statue in Busan?"
- Huh? Giant Potato... What?
Apparently, she didn't know. I looked around disdainfully. Clearly, none of them knew.
"Let me explain. The Potato Robot Saintess is―"
A FEW MOMENTS LATER...
- That's bullshit!!
- Unbelievable. That happened?
- My Saintess isn't like that!
Chaos erupted among the Undertakers. Dang Seo-rins looked puzzled, wondering, "Who is the Saintess?" and "Who dared build such a statue in my Busan?"
Ignorance is bliss.
"Anyway, bugs are dangerous. The anomaly behind this plane likely has the power of a great god, perhaps even an Outer God."
- I understand the danger of bugs...
- But what should we do then?
The female Undertaker asked.
"Simple. The curse of solitude relies on the insects killing each other. If the insects don't fight and only one remains, the curse fails."
- ...?
- Ah.
Some Undertakers blinked in confusion. It was surprising they managed to be regressors. But there were also perceptive ones.
The female Undertaker was among the latter.
- We need to commit suicide until one remains.
"What?"
My Dang Seo-rin looked shocked.
"Suicide? You all?"
- Yes. It's the solution your Undertaker suggested. It selects the final survivor without fighting.
- Ah!
- Brilliant!
- A good strategy. This way, we avoid both the Outer God and the Jar of Solitude.
"No way... This is insane."
Dang Seo-rin and the other Dang Seo-rins were dumbfounded, but the Undertakers exchanged knowing glances. Despite their different lives, appearances, and intelligence, one thing was constant.
The possibility that one day, they might turn into an anomaly.
If that day came, every Undertaker was ready to erase themselves to prevent disaster.
"From now on, we'll determine who is the most capable Undertaker. Through strength, intellect, or any other means. The losers will..."
- Recognize their shortcomings and leave, passing the mantle to the winner.
"Exactly."
- Reasonable.
An Undertaker spoke.
- But there's one problem.
- I don't mind leaving the rest to another Undertaker. After all, there's always the next cycle.
- But what about Dang Seo-rin?
All eyes turned to the Dang Seo-rins.
- What will happen to them?
- If you plan to kill them after we're gone, we won't commit suicide.
The atmosphere grew tense.
But I shook my head.
"No need to worry."
- ...?
"Once you're gone, Dang Seo-rin will be alone."
I held Dang Seo-rin's hand tightly. She glanced at me, but I focused on the Undertakers.
"But Dang Seo-rin didn't just want to travel. She wanted to travel 'with me.'"
- ...
"Once you're gone, the Dang Seo-rins will disappear naturally. Trust me."
Silence fell.
Then, one of them spoke.
- I believe you, 107.
He was also me.
Parallel worlds. Possible worlds. Multiverses.
Leibniz, the philosopher who fought with Newton over calculus, first proposed these concepts.
A less-known concept is the 'best of all possible worlds.'
- Our world is the best among all possible worlds, and thus the only one that exists.
Why do we live in this particular world and not another?
Why is our world the way it is?
- Because our universe is better than any other.
The best of all possible worlds.[2]
Other worlds have something fundamentally wrong. Physics might break down, or unimaginable evil might occur.
Even if our world feels awful, it's the only one without a cosmic failure.
- I lost.
And so, we Undertakers began the task of determining the 'best world.'
- You're one step ahead of me. Using the Saintess's telepathy and the possibility of falling into the solitude trap, you thought of it first. I should step back.
The 113th Undertaker accepted his fate calmly.
He held the hand of the 113th Dang Seo-rin.
- Sorry, Dang Seo-rin. We have to postpone our trip. I'm really sorry.
- It's okay. Just being with you was enough.
Then, a shocking scene unfolded.
The 113th Undertaker and Dang Seo-rin embraced and kissed.
"Ugh."
"Hmph."
Both the original Dang Seo-rin and I were taken aback. Seeing someone who looked like me kiss someone who looked like her was surreal.
- Huh?
The real shock was yet to come.
Of the 100+ passengers, only we were surprised.
- What's so shocking?
- Right? It's just a kiss.
Indeed, the other Undertakers and Dang Seo-rins weren't fazed at all.
The real shock was that all the Undertakers and Dang Seo-rins were couples, except us.
"Unbelievable."
"Oh my god."
This plane was a group couple's trip.
The other Undertakers and Dang Seo-rins planned overseas trips to celebrate anniversaries.
Except for us.
My head hurt. How could this happen?
- Actually, we're the ones surprised...
- Really, you two aren't a couple? THE Undertaker and Dang Seo-rin?
- Why? Why aren't you dating?
They couldn't understand why we weren't together.
- If you're not dating, why are you traveling together?
"Um, well..."
"I just wanted to travel," the original Dang Seo-rin said. "I suggested the trip, and we left two days later."
- Two days? And you just went to Uyuni Desert without being a couple?
"Yeah. Any problem?"
- Huh...
The Undertakers and Dang Seo-rins looked at us like we were the weird ones.
- Aren't you the odd ones?
We didn't answer that question.
Despite this minor incident, the task of determining the 'best world' continued smoothly.
Each test was different.
- I challenge you with the sword, 107. If you're stronger, I'll concede this life to you.
Sometimes, it was about strength.
- Ultimately, knowledge is key for a regressor. Let's compete in knowledge, 107. How to grow allies, how to defeat anomalies.
Sometimes, it was about intellect.
- Even with a sharp sword and a brilliant mind, losing your sanity means falling to anomalies. How long can you maintain your sense of self, 107?
Sometimes, it was about mental strength.
- I don't plan to drag this out. It's all about luck. Let's flip a coin, 107. Heads or tails?
Sometimes, it was just luck.
- Was Jiang Wei's continuous Northern Expeditions in Three Kingdoms justified?
Sometimes, it was just about the Three Kingdoms... Was that really okay? Dang Seo-rin looked ready to kill him.
Anyway.
About 50 Undertakers challenged me in their own ways.
I won all those challenges.
In the end, no Undertaker was stronger than me. It was bittersweet but also a source of pride.
- In the end, determining the best world was my task.
The female Undertaker smiled sadly.
All other regressors accepted their end. She was the last remaining 'me.'
- I thought I lived my best, but even that wasn't the best.
The female Undertaker challenged me to a game of Go.
The game, where AI surpassed human champions, was a fitting test for a regressor's memory.
I remembered countless Go games from many cycles. To me, Go was just a game of memory.
She challenged who could better utilize their memory.
- Well played.
"Well learned."
I won by half a point with White.
- Sorry, Dang Seo-rin. We have to postpone our Oxford trip.
- It's fine. We can always go 'next time.'
The female Undertaker's Dang Seo-rin smiled.
- Are you sure you're okay with this?
- Yes. It was a fair result. Knowing that another 'me' is striving just as hard is a huge gain. I won't lose next time.
- You just lost.
- I mean in the future.
The female Undertaker held her Dang Seo-rin's hand.
Then she looked at me and smiled.
- I leave this world to you, 107. We'll never meet again. If I'm human, I'll buy the Saintess sunglasses when I return.
The female Undertaker's body was enveloped in aura.
That was the final moment of the 'Undertaker.'
There's an epilogue.
Originally, our travel plan was to transit through Spain to South America. But after all the Undertakers left, the plane reached its destination.
The Uyuni Salt Flats.
The brightest mirror on Earth.
- Ah.
The plane landed softly on the water.
There was no vibration.
The plane's wings cut through the transparent surface of the desert. Water trails stretched behind the plane.
Some Dang Seo-rins remained. Some followed their Undertakers in death, while others stayed by their bodies.
The door of the pilotless plane opened, letting the sunset reflect on the water into the cabin.
- Beautiful.
- Yeah, it's beautiful.
- Now I see why I wanted to come here.
- Why is the world so beautiful just from a reflection...?
The Dang Seo-rins couldn't continue.
As soon as the sunset touched them, they turned into white salt and crumbled instantly.
The white dust scattered in the desert wind.
Not just the Dang Seo-rins. The Undertakers' bodies, the broken seats, even the plane's structure crumbled into white salt.[3]
Like flower petals.
In the end, only Dang Seo-rin and I remained in the middle of the desert lake.
"..."
"..."
Dang Seo-rin stared blankly at the dance of white petals. Each petal reflected the red of the sunset, and the reflection mirrored back to the horizon.
In a world where everything repeated, only our hands' warmth was real.
Much later, Dang Seo-rin murmured, "What was that anomaly, Undertaker?"
"That..."
"I don't need that kind of answer."
"Hmm."
I looked at the salt desert made of Dang Seo-rins and Undertakers' remains.
"There are many reasons, but I think it was due to the 'Uyuni Desert' itself."
Dang Seo-rin tilted her head. Her reflection in the water followed.
"Here? Why?"
"When the surface fills with water, it becomes a huge mirror. You know mirrors are the most dangerous objects in the void. We aimed for Uyuni Desert but ended up in the 'Mirror World.'"
"Ah."
"The plane is a means of travel 'somewhere other than here.' Our plane momentarily traveled to the Mirror World."
"Right... That makes sense."
Splash.
Dang Seo-rin stirred the water with her foot. Her smile reflected in the splashes.
"So my Undertaker is the best Undertaker, right?"
I didn't answer that question.
"This place is really wonderful. Thank you, Undertaker."
"You're welcome."
"But how do we get back to Korea? The plane just melted."
"..."
I couldn't answer that question.
I'll just write that it took at least three months to cross the Pacific Ocean on foot.
Footnotes:
[1] Mugo or Ko-dok, literally "jar/curse of poison," is a type of magic in which poisonous insects are sealed in a jar to kill each other until only the deadliest is left standing. Depending on how the word is spelled (and the magic is crafted), the term may also refer to a single entity harassing a particular target to death in the form of a grudge curse called "solitude."
[2] "If the creator of the world is an all-powerful, all-knowing, and all-loving being, then why does evil exist?" In an attempt to solve the problem of evil as stated, Leibniz argued that our world is the greatest good that could possibly exist. For instance, there might be a world in which every person is good, but humans would have no free will, which would be a lesser world than ours.
[3] In Abrahamic traditions, to fade away into salt is the fate of one who was guilty of evil or even simply of a person who wavered in their conviction and was, thus, deemed unworthy of being saved.