The Patriot I
Have you ever heard this saying?
"Crisis is an opportunity."
While this phrase is widely known and often quoted, I find it overly kind and somewhat misleading.
Reality is harsh. To accurately reflect this cruel world, the saying needs a serious makeover.
"Find an opportunity in a crisis. If you can't, then you'll die."
An apocalypse is a continuous series of crises, much like the incessant survey calls during election season. But while election season lasts a month at most, the apocalypse is a never-ending, thrilling ride with new surprises every day.
The weak humans who couldn't adapt to the newly updated environment of Earth all perished.
It wasn't just individuals that died either. Entire professions were wiped out. If we were to list the jobs that disappeared from the elementary school career aspirations list in the face of the apocalypse, it would include members of parliament, election commission members, union leaders, stock traders, physicists, graduate students, hikikomori...
And we must not forget "journalists." In the modern media world, which could no longer survive without advertisers, the apocalypse was too harsh.
That said, large guilds did publish quarterly newsletters when the occasion struck. "Hogsmeade News" of the Samcheon World gained some popularity, for example.[1] However, it was hard to consider these true media outlets. It's not exactly prestigious journalism when Dang Seo-rin's autumn witch fashion items make it to the front page.
Nevertheless, it took a considerable amount of time for "journalists" to disappear from the job market, and that was all because of one man.
Jo Yeong-su.
The last journalist remaining not only not just on the Korean Peninsula but in "Republic of Korea" was quite active for a long time.
However, if I were to grab any citizen of Busan and claim, "Jo Yeong-su is actually a journalist," I would likely receive a strange look.
"Him? A journalist? Why?"
In Busan, Jo Yeong-su could always be found in the square in front of the National Road Management Corps headquarters. It was there that one could find a middle-aged man holding a protest sign and shouting every day.
"Dictator Noh Do-hwa, step down! Step down! Step down!"
"Ugh, there he goes again. Doesn't he ever get tired?"
"Dictator Noh Do-hwa, step dooown!"
Yes, that man was Jo Yeong-su.
To the people of Busan, Jo Yeong-su wasn't recognized as a journalist. He was just the "crazy guy in the square."
This crazy guy had a distinctive outfit. Not only was he holding a protest sign, but his shirt was emblazoned, front and back, with:
[Republic of Korea 大韓民國]
[Democracy 民主主義]
The shirt, which was more armor than clothing, was covered in large and small characters:
[The Republic of Korea is a democratic republic]
[The sovereignty of the Republic of Korea belongs to the people, and all power comes from the people]
[All citizens have freedom of speech, freedom of the press, and freedom of assembly and association]
[No permit or censorship shall be imposed on speech, the press, or assembly and association]
...
Truly the embodiment of democracy!
If there had been a "Jesus = Heaven, No Jesus = Hell" Evangelism team in Myeong-dong, Seoul, during the civilized times, now Busan had Jo Yeong-su.
No matter how liberal Busan was with fashion, Jo Yeong-su stood out more than any witch cosplayer from the Samcheon World.
"Can't someone do something about that guy?"
"He's such a nuisance."
"When will that man ever lose his voice?"
Naturally, the members of the National Road Management Corps detested Jo Yeong-su. Even if they didn't worship Noh Do-hwa as the savior of the Korean Peninsula, they couldn't stand a human alarm blaring at them on their way to and from work. If Noh Do-hwa had said, "Get rid of that nuisance," the members of the National Road Management Corps would have gladly done so and left no trace.
"Just leave him alone..."
In other words, Jo Yeong-su's survival was entirely thanks to Noh Do-hwa's neglect.
"What's the big deal? Get back to your work..."
"Commander, is there any reason to keep such a troublemaker alive? It could demoralize the Corps."
"Demoralize? If they don't like it, they can quit. Who's stopping them? Damn, I'd quit too if I could. Do you want to see what real demoralization looks like?"
"I'll make sure to tell the members not to touch him."
Noh Do-hwa was immune to criticism and slander. No matter what was said, even if it was deeply insulting, she ignored it. This couldn't be interpreted as the benevolence of a ruler. It was more like how a person wouldn't care about a caterpillar wriggling to get attention. That was Noh Do-hwa's mindset.
Yu Ji-won also ignored Jo Yeong-su, deciding it wasn't worth trying to gain points with her superiors. She was equally good at treating people like insects.
"Dictator Noh Do-hwa, step down!"
Thus, a miracle was born. Jo Yeong-su achieved true "freedom of expression" that was hard to enjoy even in a true democratic society.
Remarkably, Jo Yeong-su was even an Awakener.
"Able to light a lighter with his index finger."
His awakening ability was trivial, but to a true democrat, such "innate traits" didn't matter. The important thing was that as an Awakener, he could access SG Net. That was all that mattered.
-Anonymous: The Republic of Korea is facing a crisis! The election system has collapsed, and democratic principles have disappeared!
After the National Road Management Corps members went home, Jo Yeong-su's fingers would light up SG Net instead of the square.
-Anonymous: By what legitimate procedure did Noh Do-hwa become the head of the National Road Management Corps? What is the legal basis for this?
Of course, she was chosen by me, the Undertaker, and selected through a beta-testing period spanning hundreds of years. Curiously, everyone except her went mad when they seized power on the Korean Peninsula.
What was I supposed to do? I had no choice but to pick Noh Do-hwa, who couldn't go any crazier because she was already well beyond saving.
-Anonymous: The situation with the large guilds controlling the cities is even more pressing. The guilds arbitrarily collect protection fees from the people!
-Anonymous: If this isn't a tax, what is? What right do these rogue groups have to levy taxes on the people?
That would be because all the "anomaly experts" of this era were gathered in the guilds.
As anyone who has heard my stories would know, it was practically impossible for ordinary people to stand up to anomalies. Even for Awakeners, it wasn't easy. In this apocalyptic world where one could die on the streets at any moment, the guilds were responsible for maintaining law and order. Thus, one had to consider the guilds' perspective too.
"Hey, we'll pay you a protection fee equivalent to a head tax and 10% of your income, so you better deal with the anomalies first and most aggressively, okay?"
That was the proposal made to the guilds.
People might feel differently, but it wasn't a deal particularly weighted in the guilds' favor. Honestly, theirs is a tough job to do without some incentive.
-LiteraryGirl: What's that guy saying again?
-Anonymous: Attention everyone, the night shift has begun. Please share your Three Kingdoms theories.
-Anonymous: Is it true that Jo Yeong-su goes to the free meal center every day?
-OldManGoryeo: Welcome, old-timer, LOL
Even on SG Net, Jo Yeong-su wasn't well-received. Despite operating anonymously, everyone knew his identity, which was a problem. It meant he had fostered himself a notorious reputation.
In this era, who lives by "procedures" and "votes"? Anomalies don't care about that stuff when they crush humans.
-Anonymous: I'm not condemning the guild leaders or the head of the National Road Management Corps because they're incompetent.
Of course, every post he wrote was met with mocking comments, and Jo Yeong-su would always respond with long rebuttals.
-Anonymous: The issue is legitimate procedures! Even if power is seized by force, humans live through time, and time brings forgetfulness.
-Anonymous: Force can sustain power for 10 years, 20 years, 50 years, but not 100 years. Time is too powerful!
-Anonymous: The way to overcome the inevitability of forgetfulness is writing agreements and promises into laws. These are the only measures that continue to work over countless years that humanity has discovered!
-Anonymous: Inheritance based on bloodlines cannot be a legitimate procedure! Countless ceremonies and coronations were devised to make such a tradition look legitimate.
-Anonymous: Ultimately, agreement! Only agreement! Laws inscribed with agreements!
-Anonymous: Realistically, everyone cannot gather every 10 years to renew agreements, so we create "promises that transcend time and space, agreed upon by all humans." This is the constitution!
-Anonymous: Realistically, not everyone can participate in agreements, so "periodically elected representatives of all sovereign people" renew the agreements. This is the law!
Indeed, these were lengthy rebuttals.
I didn't edit them. He genuinely wrote such detailed responses to every member's comment. Each comment had slightly different words and sentences too, so he wasn't using copy-paste.
-Anonymous: Do the National Road Management Corps and guilds have power? Yes. Do they have agreements? No. Do they have a constitution and laws? No. Do they have agreed procedures?
No!
-Anonymous: Thus, these organizations won't last 100 years. They clearly lack the qualifications to represent the current Republic of Korea!
-Anonymous: Former Busan Mayor Jung Sang-guk, who fled to Japan, has more legitimate qualifications!
└dolLHOuse: ?
No matter how passionately he poured out his arguments, no one agreed with Jo Yeong-su. It was only natural, really.
-Anonymous: LOL 100 years? We're struggling to survive 10 years and you run your mouth about "the inevitability of forgetfulness" LOL
No one expected a nation to endure for over 100 years. The Republic of Korea, which Jo Yeong-su revered so much, had collapsed just over 100 years after its founding. The "constitution and laws" he cherished couldn't stop the arrival of the void. Dang Seo-rin's Cursed Song Incantation could protect the public order and far more people than a few agreed-upon sentences.
That's the world we live in.
Humans were no longer great but merely part of nature. Laws were luxury items for humanity, which found itself at an overwhelming disadvantage in nature.
In other words, we were animals. Beasts.
Awakening abilities weren't something grand or a sign of being chosen by heaven; they were just claws for beasts or wings for escaping.
One had to humbly acknowledge this fact to face the current reality.
-Anonymous: Difficulty in current times cannot excuse procedural deficiencies! The former Republic of Korea declared independence and established a constitution even when the country was lost and occupied by foreign forces!
In short, Jo Yeong-su was an idealist. To the SG Net members, whose families, friends, and colleagues had died and were still dying, his idealism was almost unbearable.
-OldManGoryeo: Thanks to the old-timer, the night shift is warm again LOL
Thus, he earned the nickname "Old-timer."
"Republic of Korea" + "Old-timer," a mocking term.
Along with OldManGoryeo, Old-timer was one of SG Net's three major villains.
Who was the third? That was debatable, but sometimes the WitchJudge would be tossed around as an option. Some factions even dared to nominate me, the Undertaker, as a Three Kingdoms villain, but those were all baseless slander.
-Anonymous: Noh Do-hwa, the head of the National Road Management Corps, should wake up!
└OldManGoryeo: Wake up! Wake up!
Anyway.
As usual, the night shift on SG Net was filled with OldManGoryeo causing chaos and Jo Yeong-su breathing fire. Normal people were asleep, preparing for the next day's labor. Only two villains were passionately debating the "future of the nation" through their posts and comments.
-Anonymous: Even now, the National Road Management Corps and guilds should seriously discuss the direction of the Republic of Korea, considering public opinion!
└OldManGoryeo: Public opinion? LOL how would you do that?
└Anonymous: Through the media, of course!
└OldManGoryeo: Oh, gotcha. But we don't have any media or news in our proud Republic of Korea, do we? lmao...
At that moment, Jo Yeong-su's keyboard, which had always unhesitatingly voiced the truth, suddenly fell silent.
One minute, three minutes, five minutes.
No matter how long they waited, there was no rebuttal to OldManGoryeo's comment.
-OldManGoryeo: Last hit done.
Finally, OldManGoryeo, satisfied with getting the last word, moved on to another topic.
-OldManGoryeo: Hey guys, what song are you listening to right now?
└ZERO_SUGAR: Three Kingdoms theories, go.
└OldManGoryeo: Go to sleep.
Of course, OldManGoryeo didn't realize it.
That he had just inadvertently given birth to the last "journalist" on the Korean Peninsula.
Footnotes:
[1] Hogsmeade is an all-wizard village featured in the world of the Harry Potter series.
-x-X-x-
The Patriot II
That morning as the members of the National Road Management Corps arrived at headquarters (nicknamed the Tower of Babel or the Demon King's Castle), they felt an inexplicable emptiness.
"Why is it that the commute isn't as annoying today?"
"Congratulations. You've finally lost it."
"Has the plaza in front of our workplace always been this clean?"
"It's a beautiful day outside. Birds are singing, flowers are blooming. On days like these, adults like us should stay home and relax..."[1]
Just when they started doubting whether they had gone insane from overwork, someone pointed toward the plaza and shouted, "Oh! He's gone!"
"Gone? Who is?"
"The crazy guy! Jo Yeong-su isn't here!"
"Huh?!"
Yes. Jo Yeong-su—who held up a sign while shouting "Noh Do-hwa, step down!" every day, through rain and snow, through seasonal colds and strange viral infections—had vanished.
The members of the Corps were amazed. With just one person gone, the Tower of Babel plaza revealed its natural elegance.
"Wow, it's so nice without that guy..."
"During lunch breaks, he'd always approach us while we were eating our sandwiches and start yelling."
For the first time since joining, the members of the National Road Management Corps experienced a peaceful commute.
Of course, happiness is fleeting, like summer ice cream—you can't savor it slowly.
Exactly fifteen days later...
"Please take a look at this!"
"What?"
Thud!
With a beaming face, Jo Yeong-su returned to the headquarters of the National Road Management Corps and placed a large stack of documents on the reception desk.
"Uh..."
The receptionist was confused. The National Road Management Corps wasn't a government body that served the public as their master. Naturally, there wasn't a complaints office for civilians. (There was, however, a reception desk for patients seeking support devices from Noh Do-hwa personally.)
"Uh, Mr. Jo Yeong-su? What is this...?"
"This is a public opinion survey about whether Noh Do-hwa is suitable to rule the Republic of Korea as its leader!" Jo Yeong-su's voice rang out like a lion's roar, drawing the attention of the Corps members enjoying their lunch break in the lobby.
"A public opinion survey?"
"Yes! See for yourself!"
On the front page of the survey, consisting of 400 sheets of recycled paper, was written:
Republic of Korea's First Public Opinion Survey
Question: Do you believe that Noh Do-hwa, the head of the National Road Management Corps, was elected throughlegitimate democratic proceduresas the de facto ruler of the Republic of Korea?
Very legitimate– 12.3%
Somewhat legitimate– 15.1%
Somewhat illegitimate– 5.5%
Very illegitimate– 1.6%
Indifferent– 59.7%
No response– 5.8%
The writing, densely packed and in pencil, was clearly handwritten. The paper was ragged, as if the text had been rewritten numerous times.
"Oh..." The receptionist blinked. "Um, what is this exactly...?"
"This is the survey data collected by personally visiting hundreds of Busan citizens!" Jo Yeong-su's clear eyes gleamed with enthusiasm.
For the record, although it doesn't matter, Jo Yeong-su's head was as shiny as his eyes at the time. Just saying.
"As you can see, 27.4% gave positive responses, and a whopping 7.1% gave negative responses!"
"Uh, well. Assuming the survey was conducted properly, isn't the approval rating quite high...?"
"Currently, the Republic of Korea is essentially under Noh Do-hwa's dictatorship! In such a situation, over 7% of the people risked their lives to express their opinions! It's a figure that cannot be underestimated!"
"Dictatorship..." The receptionist glanced around, startled.
Fortunately or unfortunately, the Corps members, who by now were accustomed to Jo Yeong-su's antics, didn't blame the receptionist. They simply gave him a look that said,"Here we go again."
"This is the voice of the people, the cry of the masses! The National Road Management Corps must not ignore the public sentiment that boils like lava beneath the surface!"
"It seems to me the public sentiment is saying they 'don't care.' With almost 60% of the responses, isn't that the true sentiment of the residents...?"
"Are you saying the 7% voices aren't even voices or people?"
"What? No, that's not it—"
"Are you saying it doesn't matter if we ignore the opinions of only 7%? Is that the universal stance of the National Road Management Corps, which should be concerned about the country's foundation and the voices of minorities?!"
"Okay, okay, Mr. Jo Yeong-su! I'll pass the information to the commander! Will that be all?"
"Please dooooo!"
By now, you might be wondering. How did I, the Undertaker, overhear the above conversation and narrate it with such omniscience?
The answer was simple. A mysterious patron was secretly supporting Jo Yeong-su, the embodiment of Korean democracy.
[I think it makes sense.]
It was none other than the Saintess herself... who expressed her support for Jo Yeong-su!
[While I don't agree with restoring the already fallen Korean government, it's good to have an institution that listens to public opinion.]
"But isn't there SG Net?"
[Only Awakeners can access it. It's hard to say that the opinions of ordinary people are fully reflected anywhere. I also can't conduct a proper survey of public opinion because I can only share the perspectives of Awakeners.]
"Hmm."
[Mr. Undertaker, you always warn against Awakeners' superiority. I think it's a good opportunity to listen to the voices of ordinary people.]
"If the Saintess wishes for it..."
The Saintess had firmly pressed the "subscribe and like" button for Jo Yeong-su the YouTuber, and she shared his every move with her friend, me.
To be honest, I wasn't particularly interested. If there was one person on the Korean Peninsula with the least nostalgia for the Republic of Korea, it was me. To prevent misunderstandings, it wasn't because I was what they call a "national critic." I had a much simpler reason than the fierce political battles waged by those internet personas.
"I don't remember anything!"
It happened before my fourth cycle.
I must have fulfilled my military duty as a healthy SCV. I probably experienced the wanderings and conflicts typical of my age and may have had my own opinions, or echoed others', about the nation of Korea. And all those memories had plunged into the sea of oblivion. Unless the Dragon King under the sea of Inwang helped me, there was no way those memories would return.
"I don't even know my parents' faces or where my hometown is, so why would I have nostalgia for Korea?"
Therefore, to me, the words of the old-timer... no, of Jo Yeong-su were as foreign to me as an alien language.
Create a constitution?
I was 100% sure that the moment a constitution was written, anomalies would corrupt the text. There was no way anomalies would pass up such an attractive prey as a "sequence of letters that all citizens must respect." I'd bet my hand that the first line would be corrupted to read, "① The Republic of Korea is void ② The sovereignty of Korea belongs to anomalies, and all deaths come from anomalies."
Voting? Majority rule?
Oh my, how amazing. From the moment you put paper in the ballot box, you'll find votes from "humans who shouldn't exist!" The miracle of the total voter turnout inexplicably reaching 146% would surely unfold.
"Why are you deliberately increasing vulnerabilities exposable to anomalies? Are you masochists?"
Vulnerabilities should be minimized as much as possible.
Reduce government organizations to the National Road Management Corps. Concentrate the power of the Corps on Noh Do-hwa. From my perspective, I only had to manage Noh Do-hwa to prevent her from being infected by anomalies.
Why do I build guild members focusing on Awakeners rather than ordinary people? Is it simply because Awakeners are more capable? No. It's because the Saintess can monitor Awakeners 24/7. Even if they fall victim to anomalies, the Saintess's Clairvoyance allows for immediate response. In contrast, ordinary people don't have that. The risk of being caught off guard and falling prey is far too high.
Risk management. My strategy as a regressor was thoroughly focused on responding to anomalies.
"It's truly incomprehensible."
Although I refrained from touching Jo Yeong-su out of consideration for the Saintess, I occasionally mentioned him when chatting with Noh Do-hwa.
"It would be understandable if he merely longed for the environment of the civilized times, but it's strange to feel nostalgia for Korea as a nation itself."
"Well, isn't nostalgia created by mixing those two emotions...?" Noh Do-hwa countered. "We used to live like humans."
"I understand that. But Jo Yeong-su is something else entirely. Even if I don't remember exactly, was it really a country worth longing for so deeply? It's not even something you miss after it's gone..."
"Hm."
Click.
Noh Do-hwa chuckled as she clipped her nails. As a former civil servant of Korea, she always placed a trash can on her lap to catch the clippings as she trimmed her nails.
"So you're that kind of person..."
"...?"
What did she mean by that?
In any case, both the Saintess and Noh Do-hwa were unexpectedly tolerant of Jo Yeong-su's mischief. The other Awakeners weren't much different. Everyone despised Jo Yeong-su, but no one actually made him "disappear." They could have done so anytime they wished.
Living without family or friends, unaffiliated with any guild, dwelling in the slums of Busan, moving between the National Road Management Corps and Samcheon World's free meal centers, while denouncing the "dictatorship" of both organizations.
He spent his days collecting scraps of paper. Because he needed paper to create his "opinion surveys."
Even so, resources were scarce in the world, so Jo Yeong-su had to write out the survey questions on his opinion polls with a pencil.
Republic of Korea's Fourth Public Opinion Survey
Question: In Pyongyang, Korea, a puppet state called the Eastern Holy State has been established, and the National Road Management Corps has not released any official statements about them. Do you think theEastern Holy State should be recognized as a state?
Republic of Korea's Eleventh Public Opinion Survey
Question: This year, as a countermeasure against typhoon and monsoon damage, the governmentforcibly relocated citizensfrom the southern island areas of Korea. Do you think the National Road Management Corps can infringe on thefreedom of residence and relocationin a national crisis?
Republic of Korea's Twentieth Public Opinion Survey
Question: Do you thinkguild leaders' authoritycan be established without democratic agreements or discussions? If so, do you think guild leaders have a certain amount ofduty to the people?
I wish I could show you these questionnaires. In a sense, they're truly fascinating.
On the recycled paper, whole lines were marked out with pencil strokes Jo Yeong-su had made several times. Like this.
Sometimes, he found some whiteout somewhere and covered the text, only to write over it once more. □□□(like this).
Sometimes, he tried to erase words, but the quality of the eraser and paper weren't up to par, and the paper would tear with a riiip, and so he'd write next to the torn holes. ■■■like this.
So, if I were to reproduce Jo Yeong-su's opinion surveys as accurately as possible:
Republic of Korea'sNineteenthTwentieth Public Opinion Survey
Question:With the growing disparity in infrastructure between cities, ■■a small number of guild leaders are concentrating power.Do you thinkguild leaders' authoritycan be established□□without democratic agreements or discussions? If ■■■■■so, do you think guild leaders have a certain amount ofduty to the people?
A tattered rag.
And he used the same opinion survey multiple times, noting the responses of participants with small marks next to each answer. Like this:
Authority is established– 11111 11111 11111 11111 11111 11111 111
Jo Yeong-su returned to his shack, counted the tallies one by one, calculated statistics, and finally wrote the percentages on the "final draft." Like this.
Authority is established– 66.3%
He then submitted these "statistics" and "public opinions" to the National Road Management Corps.
Over durations as short as fifteen days to as long as over one hundred, Jo Yeong-su conducted surveys.
Years later, a curious phenomenon occurred.
"Dictator Noh Do-hwa, step down! Step down! Step down!"
The landscape of the Tower of Babel plaza had changed just slightly.
The sight of Jo Yeong-su holding a protest sign, clad in the relic armor inscribed with the Korean Constitution, shouting for Noh Do-hwa to step down, remained unchanged.
The sighs of the National Road Management Corps members commuting to and from work also remained unchanged.
However, there was now a cardboard box placed in front of Jo Yeong-su's feet.
"Mister, here's some used paper—"
"Dictator Noh Do-hwa, step dooown!"
"Good luck—"
The National Road Management Corps members dropped "used paper" into the cardboard box as they left work.
One sheet. Another sheet. Yet another.
As if leaving bills for a poor street guitarist.
"Hey. Isn't it kind of creepy how Team Leader Yu Ji-won can keep the same expression 24/7?"
"Dictator Noh Do-hwa, step down! Step down!"
"That's why she's the operations team leader. I heard she keeps the same expression even when dealing with problematic members."
"Dictator Noh Do-hwa, step down! Step down!"
"No matter how good the treatment and salary are, I couldn't join the operations team..."
"Dictator Noh Do-hwa, step down! Step down!"
"What about having army stew today?"
"Oh, army stew sounds good. I'm in."
Laughter and chatter.
The National Road Management Corps members, now fully accustomed to Jo Yeong-su, conversed amongst themselves as they passed through the plaza.
Until the sun set and Yu Ji-won was the last to leave, Jo Yeong-su continued to call for Noh Do-hwa's resignation. Of course, Yu Ji-won didn't spare him a glance and left.
"Ack, gak, eugh. My bones..."
By the time night fell and Jo Yeong-su returned to his shack. His hands were full with thick stacks of recycled paper.
The volume of those papers was the size of the territory held by the current "Republic of Korea."
Footnotes:
[1] A reference to the iconic line from Sans' boss battle of the video game Undertale: "It's a beautiful day outside. Birds are singing, flowers are blooming... On days like these, kids like you... should be burning in hell."
-x-X-x-
The Patriot III
As one can see from history textbooks, the term "revival movement" has always had an ominous connotation on the Korean Peninsula. The Baekje Revival Movement and the Goguryeo Revival Movement both ended in failure. Though not widely known, Silla and Balhae also followed similar paths to ruin. The people who lived on the Korean Peninsula have always been early adopters. Rather than cling to a ruined country and weep, they preferred to boldly change the sign altogether.
The "Republic of Korea Revival Movement" was no exception.
"Dictator Noh Do-hwa, step down!"
Jo Yeong-su was allowed to exist. He was allowed to hold protest signs and shout and allowed to recycle waste paper as part of his campaign.
The survivors, busy living day to day, scoffed at Jo Yeong-su as he approached them with his so-called surveys, but they humored him with responses. Their kindness ended there.
"Dictator Noh Do-hwa, step down! Down with the dynastic rule of giant guild leaders! Form a National Assembly and draft a constitution!"
Jo Yeong-su was always alone. A year passed, then one year turned to three, then seven, and the "Republic of Korea Revival Association" gained no members.
SG Net's attitude toward Jo Yeong-su was much the same.
-Anonymous: Welcome, Constitution Parrot.
-OldManGoryeo: Is the old-timer here? Greetings from your brother in Goryeo.
-Anonymous: I used to have no particular feelings about the Commander, but my opinion's changing. Seeing her not killing that guy and letting him live shows that the Commander is quite remarkable.
└LiteraryGirl: Tigers leave behind their skins when they die, and the Republic of Korea left behind Jo Yeong-su when it died.
-Anonymous: Dang Seo-rin, Noh Do-hwa, Mo Gwang-seo, Jung Sang-guk, Jo Yeong-su, let's go.
└Anonymous: Damn, LOL.
└Anonymous: That's the most patriotic lineup ever.
└dolLHOuse: ?
Mockery, contempt, sycophancy for the famous. Sympathy for an old fellow struggling through the same era. Rare and scarce kindness, like rainwater in the Gobi Desert.
Yet nowhere in these feelings could be found a serious desire to restore the Republic of Korea, nor any longing for democracy.
"Why are the democratic citizens of this land so depraved?!"
"The country is on the brink of ruin, yet there remains nostalgia for a dictator!"
"Hmm."
Eventually, in one cycle, I couldn't help but intervene. After all, it's a young man's (and Jo Yeong-su seemed quite young to me) privilege to blunder through life. But giving advice is an old man's specialty, isn't it?
I approached Jo Yeong-su, who was drinking alone at a pojangmacha in Haeundae. "Mr. Jo. Even if people seem kind to you, don't mistake their kindness."
"What? What do you mean?"
"People tend to act with exaggerated kindness or malice. Many give you paper out of charity, but no one will join you in shouting for the Republic of Korea. If you mistakenly believe that people genuinely support your activities, it will cause problems."
"..."
Jo Yeong-su's face turned red from the cheap alcohol. Like all survivors of this era, he was only in his late fifties, yet he looked like he was in his eighties. The term "skincare" had long since been deleted from dictionaries.
Though his mind was clear, the Korean man in front of me, who aged prematurely, raised his voice to shout, "Why are you saying this? Thanks for offering to pay for the drinks, but if you think a few drops of alcohol can stop my activities, you're sorely mistaken!"
"I'm not trying to stop you. Just giving advice. You may see yourself as a social activist, but others see you as an entertainer."
"Entertainer?" Jo Yeong-su blinked. "Me?"
"Yes. When people see the surveys you've worked hard on, they get a day or two's worth of chatter out of it. They might even feel a bit of nostalgia for the past. You're the only one who provides that experience, so people tolerate you."
"..."
"Essentially, it's no different from gathering in groups to watch old movies. Regardless of how you define yourself, your objective role in this small society is that of a clown."
"A clown..."
"The reason no one joins your revival movement stems from the same root." I poured another drink for Jo Yeong-su. "Imagine someone rushing onto the stage during a stand-up comedian's performance. It would kill the mood."
"But I'm serious..."
"That's why they like you. Because you're genuine."
Jo Yeong-su stared at me blankly.
"This isn't about you, Mr. Jo. Talking about the Republic of Korea has already become a joke. It's just the environment of the times."
"Are you saying I'm outdated?"
"Not at all. Just that a perspective like that is too self-centered. The gap is too wide between 'the me I think of' and 'the me others see.' In a way, your entertainment is too perfect for this era, so you've carved out your own niche."
"..."
"Isn't it a depressing world? Try to think about making others happy, even a little. It will change a lot. Many more people will like you."
"..."
Blink.
The eyelids of the drunk middle-aged man were too slow, overtaken by unconsciousness as this poor, ordinary man's stomach lost to the onslaught of alcohol.
I paid for the drinks and took Jo Yeong-su back to his shack.
"Sir, I'll set you down here and leave."
"Ugh... ugh..."
Drip. Drizzle.
A light drizzle of rain began to fall.
Jo Yeong-su's shack was pieced together with tarpaulins, tents, and construction waste. It was barely two pyeong, or about 6.6 square meters. Instead of a bed, thousands of sheets of waste paper were placed in the premium location of the shack and arranged to be treasured as if they were sacred relics, as if to never allow a drop of rain to grace their sheets.
Republic of Korea's Ninety-First Public Opinion Survey
Question: Do you think arrests, sentencing, and execution of criminals can all be independently decided byindividual guild leadersor thehead of the National Road Management Corps? Do you think the separation of powers should be implemented under the current circumstances?
Below, Jo Yeong-su's notes were written in a dense block of text.
-Concern 1: Must explain to citizens the situation where legislative, executive, and judicial powers are concentrated in the individuals (but this makes the question too long)
-Concern 2: The phrase "independently decided" has a negative connotation that might bias respondents
-Concern 3: Need to discuss the right to appoint a lawyer, but there's not enough space (Should I postpone it to the 92nd survey?)
→Idea: Post issues that can't be addressed due to space on SG Net!!
└Regularly remind, build consensus, persuade citizens (important!!!)
"..."
Suddenly, it struck me that this waste paper resembled the shack. Just as the shack was too cramped to accommodate a single person, the paper was trying to contain too much.
When I laid Jo Yeong-su on his bed, half of his legs stuck out of the tent. His feet remained wet all night.
I didn't know what effect the drinking session with me had on Jo Yeong-su's mental landscape, but one thing changed for sure.
"Huh?"
It was the content of the opinion surveys.
Republic of Korea's Ninety-First Public Opinion Survey
Question: Do you think thenation of Koreahascollapsed?
① Yes.
② No.
If my memory was correct, the 91st survey definitely addressed the separation of powers. However, the newly prepared survey that Jo Yeong-su was carrying around had entirely changed, and the sentences were remarkably short.
Had Korea fallen?
"Well, of course it's fallen..."
"Why is this survey like this?"
The citizens who always took surveys out of boredom tilted their heads.
The Republic of Korea has fallen. How could it still stand? Some citizens wondered if Jo Yeong-su was playing around with the survey.
But Jo Yeong-su was serious. More serious than ever, in fact.
"Please participate in the survey! Fellow citizens! Citizens of Busan! This is the most important survey to date!"
"Uh..."
Not only was he serious. Usually, Jo Yeong-su conducted surveys of about 1,000 to 2,000 people, selecting a sample that was representative of the various societal classes and fields.
This time was different.
"Hey, kid! Hey there! Would you answer my question for a moment?"
"Me?"
Jo Yeong-su was frantically asking everyone for their opinion. He even handed the survey "Has the Republic of Korea fallen?" to a child who had just turned five.
"I'll give you 100 won if you participate!"
"Wow!"
Even children who had never experienced the Republic of Korea participated in a survey for the first time in their lives.
And it didn't stop there.
-JoYeong-su: We are conducting the 91st Public Opinion Survey! Members and non-members of SG Net, please participate!
Having always been active anonymously, Jo Yeong-su registered on SG Net and posted a survey article.
His nickname was JoYeong-su. Everyone was surprised by the audacity of using his real name as his member ID.
-Anonymous: ?? Why did this guy register?
-LiteraryGirl: Didn't he say last time that SG Net is a tilted playing field because only Awakeners can access it, and that he would remain anonymous forever?
└JoYeong-su: I'm sorry! I was wrong! But please, participate in this survey just once!
-OldManGoryeo: Ah... have you finally decided to become one of the "named"? Welcome, Jo Yeong-su. Welcome to the "first division" of SG Net.
└JoYeong-su: Thank you! Please, I ask for your participation in the survey!
Like a madman, Jo Yeong-su increased the number of survey respondents.
He didn't conduct the survey alone. He entrusted it to passersby, the National Road Management Corps members he often bumped into, and shop owners along the road.
"Please, ask your customers to answer the survey just once!"
"How can I bother my customers with such a request?"
"I beg you!"
About 15 months later, Jo Yeong-su obtained "answers" from a staggering 120,000 residents in Busan alone. Considering the population of Busan at the time was between 200,000 to 300,000, it was an impressive sample size.
More surprisingly, Jo Yeong-su's fervent campaign didn't end there.
[Mr. Undertaker.]
"Yes. What is it?"
[Mr. Jo Yeong-su has moved to Changwon.]
"What?"
Jo Yeong-su, who had lived and died in Busan in every cycle, moved to another city.
"An Awakener with the ability to light a Zippo lighter with his finger crossed the void?"
[He joined a caravan from the National Road Management Corps.]
"Oh, in that case, it makes sense. But why did he suddenly go to Changwon?"
[It seems he wants to conduct surveys with the residents of other cities as well.]
"...Really?"
[Yes.]
I was astonished.
What's more, Changwon wasn't even Jo Yeong-su's destination. It was merely a stopover.
Jo Yeong-su was literally sweeping the Korean Peninsula, heading south up north.
"Is he really trying to survey the entire Korean Peninsula? Even those who haven't participated in SG Net surveys?"
[Probably.]
Isn't this guy completely insane?
Footnotes:
[1] Pojangmacha, also abbreviated as pocha, is a South Korean term for outdoor carts that sell street foods such as hotteok, gimbap, tteokbokki, sundae, dak-kkochi, fish cake, mandu, and anju. In the evening, many of these establishments serve alcoholic beverages such as soju.
-x-X-x-
The Patriot IV
Jo Yeong-su's great cross-country journey! From Busan to Pyongyang! Behold the man who intends to shock everyone with his boldness!
Although no such advertisement appeared, I imagined the impact he aimed to create was immense indeed. By conducting surveys among both Awakeners and the general populace, he aimed to gather the "opinion of the entire Korean Peninsula." What audacious ambition!
And so, Jo Yeong-su's ambitious project culminated with...
[Jo Yeong-su died in Yecheon.]
He didn't even make it past Gyeongsangbuk-do, let alone reach Pyongyang. His journey left him stranded.
I sighed deeply at the Saintess's report. "In some way, he did show us something quite sensational..."
[What?]
"Nothing, just talking to myself. So, what was the cause of death?"
[Ah, he got lost in the Void. You know, sometimes when you walk near the Nakdong River, you inadvertently enter a Void known as the Hwangsan River.]
[He wandered there for three days, built a raft, and tried to cross, but only managed a few meters before the raft disintegrated, taking him with it.]
"Is this for real?"
Regardless, Jo Yeong-su was dead. To put it crudely, it was a miserable death.
And when the citizenry heard of Jo Yeong-su's obituary, they weren't particularly shocked or upset. Quite the opposite, actually.
"Did you hear? That crazy guy died. The one who always protested at the Tower of Babel Plaza."
"Eh? How did he die?"
"He set off to travel the country by himself."
"Ah, he must not have had much left to cling to in life."
The citizens briefly mourned and then promptly returned to their daily struggles.
In essence, Jo Yeong-su's death didn't make many waves in the news. Considering that he had spent his life making news in Busan, it was somewhat ironic. Why Jo Yeong-su suddenly became obsessed with conducting a nationwide survey, and what his objectives were, would now forever remain a mystery.
"Hmm."
If there were no regressors in this world...
"I'm a bit concerned."
[About what?]
"Saintess, you had a lot of interest in Jo Yeong-su. Yet, you just watched him wander the void for three days?"
[Professional and personal matters must be kept separate,] the Saintess replied calmly. [While I had a personal interest in Mr. Jo Yeong-su's activities, I could not use the powers of my office to assist him.]
"Really? Was it not you who prompted me to take an interest in Jo Yeong-su?"
[...]
"If so, then you succeeded, Saintess. Now, I am also curious about him."
What had Jo Yeong-su hoped to achieve by risking his life?
Thus, in the next cycle, I immediately changed how I approached Jo Yeong-su.
"Sir, I'll set you down here and leave."
"Ugh... ugh..."
The event at the pojangmacha in Haeundae, where we spent all night drinking, unfolded the same as before. The 91st public opinion survey that asked anew about the demise of the Republic of Korea also occurred in the same way. The turning point in Jo Yeong-su's route came after.
"Mr. Jo!"
"Uh? Isn't that Mr. Undertaker?!"
On the day he left Busan for Changwon, I personally went to see him off.
"What brings you here, Mr. Undertaker?"
"There's a caravan going to Changwon today. I have some business up in Mokpo and thought I'd travel along."
"Is that so!" Jo Yeong-su's eyes widened. "Mr. Undertaker! I have a favor to ask of you!"
"A favor?"
"Yes! No matter what, I must continue the survey in Changwon, but the members of the National Road Management Corps here are dead set against it! How can an institution funded by taxpayers be so miserly?!"
It was natural. Why would a caravan, already busy transporting goods, want to add to its burden? In the past cycle, he probably forced his way into the caravan amid chaos.
"Is that so?"
But this time, the psycho-social genius Mr. Undertaker, revered as 'His Excellency' by his connections, was here.
"Look here, gentlemen," I implored. "Mr. Jo Yeong-su and I have been drinking together, can't you overlook this just once?"
"Of course!"
"If he's a friend of Mr. Undertaker's, we must treat him as a VIP! Sorry for the cold shoulder earlier!"
"Thank you, gentlemen. I'll treat you to coffee next time I see your faces. Oh, but I'm worried that other members might not be aware of our relationship..."
"Don't worry, Your Excellency!"
"We'll post about it on SG Net so all members are informed!"
I snuck a glance behind me. Jo Yeong-su's mouth was hanging open in shock.
Aha, do you see? This is the 'power of the protagonist.' Despite its frequent appearance in other novels, here, it is doled out sparingly, like an oasis in the desert.
Without even lifting a finger, Jo Yeong-su had snagged a free ticket to travel across the Korean Peninsula, but my power didn't stop there.
"If you are to conduct surveys everywhere, including the places the caravan doesn't reach, you should use this."
"Uh, Mr. Undertaker, what is this?"
"A yogurt cart."
A South Korean staple. The third-generation refrigerated electric cart, CoCo (Cold&Cold). Within its limited range of 'the territory of the Republic of Korea,' it could move and appear anywhere. Now, Jo Yeong-su was practically as mobile as Guan Yu with his Red Hare.[2]
"Thank you, Mr. Undertaker. I wonder if I'll ever be able to repay this kindness before I die..." As someone who had to scrounge a daily living, Jo Yeong-su was overwhelmed by the sudden, generous donation.
I grinned broadly. "I've always been interested in your surveys, Mr. Jo. Don't think of this as a personal gift, but as support for your cause."
"Mr. Undertaker...!"
Relationship enhancement complete.
On the road parting from Jo Yeong-su in Changwon, the Saintess commented, [I didn't expect this. I thought you had no interest in Korea or public opinion surveys, Mr. Undertaker.]
"Originally, I didn't. But someone kept subtly suggesting I take a look at this man."
The Saintess paused in palpable confusion. [You have someone like that in your circle, Mr. Undertaker? I didn't see anyone with my Clairvoyance.]
"I have my privacy too. Anyway, please keep an eye on him, Saintess. If he gets lost in the Void or something, help him out."
[Ah, yes. I understand.]
Naturally, the Regressor Alliance Network buzzed with the news that "Mr. Undertaker has taken an interest in the crazy guy from the Tower of Babel Plaza."
Sim Ah-ryeon, reigning as a Saintess of the North, appeared through the Inunaki Tunnel one day and peeked out.
"Y-yes. The monster of camaraderie..."
"...?"
"You pretend not to, but actually, guild leader, you wanted to fit in with SG Net's top brass, right? That's why you keep clinging to me and the old man..."
"...?"
"I'll acknowledge you during the dead-of-night shift. So please don't leave comments in the morning, noon, or evening. Using real-life connections to invade the community's camaraderie... Such an outrage, I absolutely cannot forgive..."
"...?"
Leaving just her words behind, Sim Ah-ryeon quickly walked away.
What was that about? At times, I feared her mental world.
At any rate, though unfortunate, Sim Ah-ryeon was the Saintess of the North. She granted Jo Yeong-su the status of a monk in the Holy Eastern State, allowing him to travel freely even in North Korean areas.
Effectively, most powers controlling the Korean Peninsula—from the frontend to the backend—were now sponsoring Jo Yeong-su individually.
'It seems that heroes and saintesses are obsessing over me, a mere low-tier streamer?!' Powered by such light novel-like developments, Jo Yeong-su ransacked the entire eight provinces of the country.
Time passed.
2,211 days.
From Busan to Sinuiju.
From the south to the north of the still surviving Korean Peninsula.
That was the time it took to complete a single public opinion survey.
[We're just coming down from Sinuiju after finishing the last survey there. Now...]
"Are you returning to Busan?"
[Probably.]
While the survey was running in those six years or so, I hadn't once asked the Saintess about the results. My interest was solely in Jo Yeong-su as an individual, not in what people thought about the demise of the Republic of Korea.
What had Jo Yeong-su hoped to achieve through his six-year journey? Was it the certainty that the nation still existed in people's hearts? The driving force to continue the revival movement for the Republic of Korea?
[Ah, it seems he has a different destination in mind. Jo Yeong-su has found a ship in Pyongyang, but it's not heading to Busan.]
Neither option was the correct answer.
[He's heading to Seoul.]
Seoul was practically my backyard.
In a panic but pretending not to care, I hurried to the wharf and started fishing. Jo Yeong-su, coming by boat from Pyongyang, would have no choice but to spot me as soon as he disembarked.
There, he exclaimed in surprise, "Mr. Undertaker! What are you doing here?!"
"Oh, Mr. Jo?"
Jo Yeong-su abandoned his yogurt cart and rushed to embrace me.
A reunion six years in the making. The scents of lush grass and arid sunlight wafted from Jo Yeong-su.
"My goodness! Mr. Undertaker, you look the same even after so many years!"
"Haha, your voice is still as hearty as ever, Mr. Jo."
"A man of the Han empire must possess spirit, mustn't he? What have you been up to here?"
"I've been enjoying fishing. My Seoul hideout is nearby."
"Huh! Fishing in such times..." Jo Yeong-su's eyes deepened with respect and affection as he looked at me. He had aged significantly more than before. Depending on who was looking, he might be mistaken for someone in his late eighties after traveling across the country with the body of a frail Awakener. Even with fiery donations, it hadn't been easy.
"And what brings you to the Han River, Mr. Jo?"
"Ah! Thanks to your support, I've finally completed the survey!" Jo Yeong-su patted the cart with a thump. "I'm planning to take this guy to his final resting place!"
"Final resting place?"
"Yes! To the place where those who ruined the country gather!" Jo Yeong-su said, pointing with his finger. In that direction lay Yeouido, and on Yeouido stood a dome building well-known to anyone from the Republic of Korea.
It was the National Assembly Building.
"Uh..." I hastily picked up the thread of conversation. "Mr. Jo, that might look like the National Assembly Building, but it's actually a Void. Originally, when the Void of perpetual night came to Seoul, it wiped out everything like other buildings, reducing them to ruins. Then, one day, that building just appeared on its own. There's even a real robot underground there."
"Eh? I don't really know about that stuff! But I must go there anyway!"
Thinking back, this man, who in the last cycle had embarked on a nationwide tour bare-bodied and enjoyed free-diving in the Hwangsan River, wouldn't heed a conventional warning like "It's a Void, so it's dangerous." Normally, such a person would have died, but in this cycle, I'd resuscitated him with emergency CPR.
"Then I will accompany you."
"Oh my! I'm sorry to trouble you..."
"No worries, no worries. I was just passing the time fishing, anyway."
"Oh! I can't thank you enough, Mr. Undertaker! How did I end up in your debt in both the beginning and the end?"
It wasn't long before we reached the ferry terminal to the National Assembly Building, about 30 minutes even at the leisurely pace of Jo Yeong-su's cart.
During those 30 minutes, we chatted about various things. Which neighborhood was the toughest in the survey? Were there any close calls with death?
The conversation gradually went back in time. In the days when civilization was intact, he had been the editor-in-chief of a small regional newspaper.
"My family name is Pungyang Jo!"
The timeline of the conversation swiftly reached Jo Yeong-su's childhood.
"As you know, Mr. Undertaker, our ancestors, the Jo family from Pungyang, did a lot to ruin Joseon with their politics! Well, some historians argue it wasn't entirely their fault!"
I nodded. The Pungyang Jo family was well-known. Along with the Andong Kim family, they were among the 'surnames that inevitably make one restless during history classes.' Though both were mere commoners compared to the Yeohung Min family, Jo Yeong-su continued his story.
"Ha! When I read the textbooks as a child, I was shocked!"
"Is that so?"
"Yes! As a child, I resolved not to let my family be blamed for ruining the country! How could my family be called the surname of a ruined nation?"
Jo Yeong-su made a fist in the air as if grasping something.
"Just you watch! When I grow up, I'll become a scholar as loyal as Choi Ik-hyeon, doing what my ancestors failed to do![3] No one in my family said a word, but a wild little kid was making a fuss all by himself."
Heh heh. Laughter erupted from Jo Yeong-su's aged lips.
"So, my fundamental feelings about the country were rooted in the shame of my youth and an inferiority complex. It's not something I'd go around bragging about."
As we entered the National Assembly Building, as predicted, creatures attacked us. There were no formidable boss-level creatures, but plenty of town-level creatures swarmed us.
If I hadn't been accompanying him, Jo Yeong-su's life would have ended there.
'How many times is this fellow going to dodge death?'
With a bitter smile, I managed to somehow escort Jo Yeong-su to the main hall of the National Assembly Building.
"Ah!" Jo Yeong-su looked around and declared, "Nothing has changed since the old days! Well, back then, the members of the assembly filled about half the seats."
"Hmm."
"The country has fallen apart, but this place alone looks just fine. Heh! It's not much different from the old days."
I didn't meet his statement with a response. It wasn't really a conversation aimed at me but, instead, more like a monologue.
Jo Yeong-su walked around the main assembly hall with his hands clasped behind his back. He peered at the nameplates on the desks, muttering, "Ah! Right, he was a representative!"
Had this empty hall once condensed the hopes and cheers, aspirations and wishes, contempt, anger, mockery, and hostility of the people of the Korean Peninsula?
Thump. Thump.
Jo Yeong-su placed a piece of paper on each desk. I enhanced my vision to sneak a peek at the contents.
Republic of Korea's Ninety-First Public Opinion Survey
Question: Do you think thenation of Koreahascollapsed?
① Yes.
② No.
After distributing the tattered documents to all the seats, Jo Yeong-su walked up to the speaker's podium.
His gaze was fixed somewhere in the air, as if he were looking not at the present but at the past.
"Please adjust the seats."
Jo Yeong-su's voice was soft. Without a microphone, it was hard to discern any authority in his tone. Just the voice of an ordinary man who had aged to his late eighties from traveling the country.
"As there is a quorum, I will call this plenary session to order."
Clack, clack, clack.
A wooden gavel struck the air three times. Between the strikes, Jo Yeong-su coughed.
"In the absence of the speaker, I, Jo Yeong-su, will preside over this meeting. There are 33 individuals across the country who consider themselves citizens of the Republic of Korea, and all have delegated me the authority to conduct this assembly."
"..."
"Respected members of the assembly and fellow citizens, as the acting deputy speaker, I will report on the progress before moving on to the next agenda item."
Flutter.
Jo Yeong-su turned a page of the survey.
"First, Busan. In response to the question 'Has the Republic of Korea perished?', about 86% of the eligible voters responded. Out of 235,695 respondents, 235,693 chose option one, 'It has perished.'"
The paper turned again.
"Next, Changwon. In response to the same question, about 91% of eligible voters responded. All 54,980 respondents chose option one, 'It has perished.'"
The papers flipped one page at a time. As the tattered pages fluttered, the locations called out moved gradually from the south to the north of the peninsula.
"Lastly, Sinuiju. In response to the question, about 89% of eligible voters responded. All 21,139 respondents chose option one, 'It has perished.'"
It took less than six minutes to announce the results of six years of public opinion surveys.
Jo Yeong-su closed the last page of the survey.
"This survey was conducted among citizens aged five and older. Considering the special nature of the matter, not only adults over 18 but also children aged five and above were considered eligible voters. The future of the country was at stake."
Cough.
Jo Yeong-su's coughing became more frequent. He paused for breath between coughs and spoke very deliberately.
"An opinion survey is just that, an opinion survey. However, in the current situation where no voting takes place, I, the acting chair, believe it serves the function of a vote. To support this, I have been delegated the rights by 33 citizens who chose option two, 'It has not perished.'"
Cough, cough.
"Thus, I, the acting chair, will put the existence of the Republic of Korea to a vote. Since the voting results have already been announced, I will proceed with the decision. If anyone objects, please speak now."
Cough, cough.
"Has everyone voted? I will now close the voting. I will announce the results. About 88% of all eligible voters participated, with 3,125,678 for option one, 'It has perished,' making up more than 99.99% of the total population. Option two, 'It has not perished,' received 33 votes, less than 0.01%."
Cough, cough.
"Therefore, I declare the Republic of Korea has perished."
Clack, clack, clack.
The gavel sounded.
At that moment, something strange happened.
From the empty parliamentary seats, irrespective of party lines, applause erupted. The clapping also came from the deserted galleries. Between claps, the noise of camera flashes could be heard.
Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap, clap, clap!
Even more peculiar was that this sound seemed audible only to me. Jo Yeong-su showed no reaction whatsoever. He simply sat quietly in the speaker's chair, eyes closed.
"..."
Looking at his peaceful face, a thought struck me.
Perhaps, like individuals, nations also require funerals when they die. Perhaps this old man had borne the funeral rites alone for six years, unaided by anyone else.
If so, at this moment, the nation known as the Republic of Korea had died and been laid in its coffin.
After that day, Jo Yeong-su never again took to the Tower of Babel Plaza to stage his protest, shouting, "Dictator Noh Do-hwa! Step down!"
Jo Yeong-su lived out his days as an ordinary old man, frequenting free meal centers and labor markets, and died not long after. Having already spent all his energy traveling the country, he was of an age where his vitality had waned.
WIth his having no relatives, I took it upon myself to be his chief mourner. I set up a modest wake in his makeshift shack. There weren't many mourners who joined me. At most, a few old men with whom Jo Yeong-su had passed time playing Go visited.
Then, on the last night, Noh Do-hwa came by unexpectedly without any attendants. Looking around the almost tent-like shabby shack, she muttered, "Isn't there even beef soup here...?"
"How could we afford such an expensive thing?"
"Aren't you filthy rich...?"
"Ah, it's not about money but about conducting the funeral with heart. If we held a grand funeral now, all sorts of riffraff would flock here, but would that have been in accordance with the deceased's wishes?"
"Hmm..."
That was the first exchange upon her arrival. After paying her respects to the portrait (she didn't bow to me as the chief mourner), Noh Do-hwa plunked down beside me.
"Why did that old man go from his incessant, noisy protesting to suddenly giving up and kicking the bucket?"
"After finishing the survey, he went to the National Assembly Building in Yeouido and declared that the Republic of Korea had perished."
"Huh? Ahh? Ahh..." Noh Do-hwa stroked her chin. "What about the body?"
"He was the last representative of a ruined nation. It would be strange if the creatures didn't covet him. I'm planning to cremate him and scatter his ashes in the sea."
And so it was done.
Creatures were as dangerous to the dead as they were to the living. Without stringent procedures, 'Funeral Etiquette: Do Not Startle the Mourners by Suddenly Reviving!' was likely to be violated.
After scattering his ashes in the sea, we simply erected a modest tombstone at the site. This type of burial was called a sea tomb.
"Having the great Undertaker supervise the funeral from start to finish. This, indeed, is a good death..." Noh Do-hwa snipped sarcastically to the end.
The tall tombstone of the sea tomb was carved with the following inscription:
Jo Yeong-su
趙泳洙
Citizen of the Republic of Korea
大韓民國 國民
Noh Do-hwa shrugged. "I've been up all night since yesterday and I'm getting hungry..."
"Shall we go for beef soup?"
"Oh, beef soup sounds good..."
There's no further content in this story.
In some ways, this entire episode was an epilogue to the nation known as Korea.
Footnotes:
[1] A reference to Frieren, an immortal, elven mage who dives headfirst into every chest—easily detectable mimic or no—on the off-chance she finds a grimoire within that she hasn't read yet.
[2] In Romance of the Three Kingdoms, the Red Hare is a horse capable of crossing 1,000 ri (approximately 333.33 miles) in a day. It eventually was gifted to the general Guan Yu.
[3] Choi Ik-hyeon was a Korean Joseon Dynasty scholar and politician who was a staunch advocate for Korean independence in the face of Japanese imperialism.
-x-X-x-
The Investor I
I regret not discussing ordinary people more.
This world, governed by awakened abilities, has created a hierarchical society resembling a pyramid. In old times, wealth was passed down through families, but awakened abilities defy even DNA inheritance. They're like a gacha game based on pure luck—unpredictable and arbitrary.
As for the most desired jobs among ordinary children these days―
Career Preference Survey for Children Under 10
③ Laborer in large guilds – 10.2%
② Member of the National Road Management Corps caravan – 14.4%
① Writer – 26.8%
Surprisingly, the most coveted job among today's youth is that of a writer.
"Mom! I want to be a writer when I grow up!"
"Being a writer is like being a god!"
Indeed, it was the golden age of literature, not just of humanities.
The roots of the sudden literary craze were deep and mysterious.
It wasn't always like this. The field of humanities has always been a source of embarrassment on the Korean Peninsula, especially the ultimate example in the form of creative writing.
This attitude and treatment altogether reversed beginning in the 205th cycle.
Do you remember any incidents that occurred during cycle 205?
♪♫*♪~Feels like walking in a dream~♪♫*♪
That's right, the Dream Casino.
In the 206th cycle, casino dealers, who turned money into dreams, began to work in earnest in the Inunaki Tunnel, and people couldn't help but be enthralled by this miraculous casino.
"Give me endless Quarter Pounder with Cheese from McDonald's and those slightly soggy, super salty fries until I'm sick of them!"
"Hoho! That will be 160 won!"
"I want a beautiful girl who only looks at me in my dreams..."
"Hohoho! Specifying a person costs 1,000 won, setting up the relationship is 2,000 won, starting from a base price of 3,000 won!"
In the beginning, most people's wishes were focused on basic pleasures, like food and sex. This was true of both Awakeners and ordinary people. If they had money, they spent it all; if not, they still indulged in luxuries.
"Wow! In reality, all I can drink is nasty alcohol, but in dreams, I can guzzle down delicious whiskies to my heart's content!"
"There are people in this dream!"
"Work has been really enjoyable lately. I used to think, 'Why bother when we're all going to die by anomalies anyway?' But now, I can't wait to rush to the casino after the workday ends. It really boosts my motivation to work."
Even if someone had immoral or unethical wishes, it didn't matter. It was just a dream, after all. The tutorial fairies who brought these dreams to life weren't particularly moralistic. People indulged in their dreams without worrying about what others thought, and the productivity of the workforce, which had been plummeting on the Korean Peninsula, miraculously revived.
People should have been happy forever then—but of course, reality was not so kind.
"Even whiskey gets boring after a while..."
"My dream lover is great, but she feels a bit passive. I have to decide how she'll react and what she'll say before I even start dreaming. It's nice to be loved, but it feels a bit like dating AI..."
"After rethinking it, I guess work really is suffering. Why do we have to work to live?"
Humans are creatures who never know satisfaction!
More precisely, even if they are satisfied, they quickly get used to it and start craving more and more. Especially since the Dream Casino offered a service with one fatal flaw.
"It's great to enter a dream because it feels like reality, but having to set up everything beforehand really kills the immersion..."
The lack of spontaneity.
For instance, let's say someone wanted to dream about "being late for school, running through the streets, and then bumping into a beautiful girl (equipped with strawberry jam toast in her mouth) at a street corner, and then 'Hey kids, there's a new transfer student' and 'Are you that lucky guy from then?!'" (This was a highly popular scenario requested by 310 people in Busan alone.)
It might have been fun to experience a scenario that had once only been the subject of unfulfilled fantasy, but the truth is, such a setup required 'spontaneity.'
Being late by chance, bumping into someone by chance, and that person turning out to be a new student. Only then would a love story truly make the protagonist's heart flutter.
"But giving the tutorial fairies freedom..."
"They'd make a tutorial dungeon out of anything and force people to kill each other! Shit, why should I have to endure more real-life experiences when I could be sweet-talking my lover in my dreams?"
"Hohoho, I really don't understand..."
Frankly, it wasn't my concern.
'People are just satiated.'
They complain that setting up their dreams beforehand ruins the fun? What does it matter? Aren't they experiencing desires they can't fulfill in reality?
I once discussed this with Noh Do-hwa.
"Perfection doesn't exist in this world. If we cater to these complaints, new grievances will soon arise. Nowadays, young people can't think of the old days. They just complain about the present. Tsk, tsk."
Noh Do-hwa looked at me over her glasses. "You're not suffering from some disease where you'll die if you don't periodically act like an old geezer, are you...?"
Anyway, I ignored the complaints of the casino patrons, treating them as nothing more than the grumblings of those who had their fill.
But not everyone thought the same as me.
What I dismissed as 'whining of the satiated' was seen by someone else as 'the cries of a hungry potential customer'—a market yet to be tapped.
Writers began to take action.
Being an Awakener isn't a particularly prestigious status. You're just a lowly member of a small guild. You work hard every day, scrimping and saving so you can visit the Dream Casino three or four times a week.
Lately, however, you've been having some concerns.
'The whiskey tastes great, but just going to a whiskey bar and drinking non-stop isn't as enjoyable as it was the first time...'
In other words, you're experiencing a kind of ennui.
You've thought about meeting a virtual lover in your dreams like other people, but honestly, you're not really motivated to do that. You just like whiskey.
'Should I cut down on drinking? Hmm?'
As you dragged yourself toward the casino, a sign that you hadn't noticed before catches your eye.
[Cocktail Bar Mori (森) OPEN]
Location: Apgujeong Rodeo Station, Seoul
Business hours: 7 PM to 2 AM
Bartender experience:
- 1st place in World Class Japan
- Runner-up in the World Bartender Championship
Your eyes light up.
'A cocktail bar? In Apgujeong Rodeo? Wait, why are they advertising in Busan?'
You love whiskey, but you don't hate cocktails. In fact, you started drinking whiskey after finding you liked cocktails.
Naturally, you become interested and approach the timid promoter standing behind the sign.
"Excuse me."
"Y-yes?"
"About this cocktail bar. Is it currently operating in Seoul?"
"Ah, well..." The person behind the sign seems unusually shy for a promoter. Poorly dressed and apparently not well-fed, he visibly struggles to maintain his composure. "It's... a setup..."
"Sorry?"
"This cocktail bar has just opened, and, well, I made up the setting myself. It's a dream setting. If you buy my dream, I get a small commission, and I'll invite you to the cocktail bar I've set up..."
His voice is soft and his speech disjointed, but you manage to grasp what he's getting at. "Oh, so it's not a real cocktail bar, but one you've created in a dream? I have to pay to enter?"
"Yes. I used to be a writer, so I'm good at this. It'll be great, honest..."
A writer.
Not exactly reassuring. In this post-apocalyptic world, being a writer is a completely unproductive occupation. (Even when civilization was thriving, it wasn't particularly productive.)
"What's so great about it? Honestly, I don't see why I should pay. The whiskey bar I've set up is really fancy."
"S-spoilers..."
"Sorry?"
"I can't tell you what's different because it's a spoiler... Sorry..."
At this point, most people would have walked away, thinking they were being taken for a fool. But you, you're different. The truth of it is, you were chosen for this story becauseyou're the first to react differently.
You're intrigued.
"How much is it?"
"I-is what?"
"The cocktail bar. How much do I need to pay to get in?"
"Oh, just 500 won! It's a grand opening event! I'll invite you for just 500 won..."
It isn't cheap by any means, but it's not so much that it'd stop an Awakener like you. "Here you go."
"Ah! Th-thank you! Sir! You will be blessed! I really will make sure you have no regrets..."
Although he looks more like a beggar than a writer, you nevertheless hand over 500 won to the person in front of you.
The writer hurries off to the fairy guarding the casino entrance. "A guest! A guest has arrived! Now, as promised, please let him in..."
"Hoho? You're actually going along with this ridiculous scam?" the fairy says to you.
"As promised! Hurry!"
"Hoho, the world is truly a curious place."
You feel even more uneasy as you listen to the exchange, but the water had already been spilled.
'Well. If it feels too strange, I'll just consider it a 500 won donation to a beggar.'
You follow the dream guide into the inner part of the casino where you lay down on the bed in the sleep room. Normally, this would be the time when you'd specify exactly what kind of dream you want, detailing the atmosphere and taste of the whiskey bar, but this time, the writer interrupts you.
"Just go to sleep like this..."
"Sorry?"
"You're visiting the store I'm promoting in your dream! You don't need to specify anything. Of course, if you want to change your appearance or status, you'll need to tell me..."
"No, I usually just dream as I am."
"Well, then sleep away..."
And instead of you and the fairy discussing the setup, the writer and the fairy whisper and murmur to each other.
'It does feel a bit ominous.'
But what can you do? You're already lying down on the bed.
You suppress your unease and listen to the fairy's lullaby―
And the next moment, you find yourself standing on a street near Apgujeong Rodeo Station.
"Oh?"
It's an alleyway, just out of sight of where cars are waiting for the signal on the main road. It was a scene taken straight out of Seoul before civilization collapsed.
Turning your head, you see a small sign on a store.
[MORI 森]
This must be the cocktail bar the writer mentioned.
'The atmosphere of the dream itself is pretty convincing.'
You feel a tingle of anticipation as you open the door.
Inside, the bar is so small that barely ten people can fit. It's more like those local-style cocktail bars you find more often in Japan than in Korea, izakaya.
The bartender pauses where he was reaching for the bottles and turns around to greet you.
"Irasshaimase!"
"Uh?"
A Japanese bartender?
The genetic predisposition for foreign language anxiety that lay dormant in every Korean is triggered.
As you stand there slightly flustered, the bartender puts down the bottle and smiles gently. "Welcome. Please come inside."
His Korean is awkward. You try to keep your expressions and gestures as polite as possible as you step further into the bar.
"I'm sorry. I don't speak Japanese... Are you Japanese?"
"Yes. I'm learning Korean very hard! Kim Yuna! Son Heung-min! I love it!"
"Ah... Your Korean is really good."
"Thank you!"
Fortunately, you are the only customer in the bar. It would have been pretty embarrassing if there had been others.
But the best part about alcohol, like music, is that it's a universal language. Just as Mozart's music sounds the same whether in Austria or China, the names of drinks don't change across borders.
"Would you like to try a Godfather first?"
"Godfather. Yes, understood!"
Before long, the bartender whips up a cocktail and hands it to you. And as you touched the drink to your lips—
'...It's delicious?'
The taste of the drink is superb. If you had left it all to the tutorial fairy, the taste of a Godfather might have come out as Midori Sour, completely mixed up. That's why you had to specify each flavor yourself before dreaming.
But not this time.
It tastes exactly like the cocktail you ordered, and even if it's not exactly 'your favorite style,' it's still delicious enough to enjoy.
It's as if―
'—you're visiting a new cocktail bar that you've never been in before.'
You look around.
It's your first time visiting such a cramped cocktail bar. The cocktail bars you know in Korea are usually quite spacious.
The interior. The lighting. The bartender's nationality.
Everything feels refreshing, feels new.
"This drink is really good."
"Ah, really? Thank you."
"Could you also make a Manhattan?"
"Manhattan! You seem to like these drinks."
"Yes. I've always loved whiskey..."
Under the dim lighting, natural conversation flows between you and the bartender.
The glasses and the snack plates are quickly emptied. You're drinking faster than usual, but it doesn't feel overwhelming at all.
"So how did you end up in Korea, if you don't mind my asking? Isn't Japan better for business?"
"Actually, my wife is Korean..."
"Oh!"
"My mother-in-law did not agree to the marriage at first. She wanted two things: I speak Korean and I live in Korea."
"Wow. So you learned Korean and even opened a bar here because you really love your wife."
"Yes! I love her! A lot!"
Stories you didn't know.
A bar you hadn't been aware of.
A person you hadn't met before.
'Right.'
You empty your glass, you laugh with the bartender, and you get completely drunk, forgetting that you are dreaming.
'This is it. This is what a bar should be like.'
The next day, you visit Cocktail Bar Mori once again. That day, too, you have the bartender all to yourself.
When you visit two days later, there are two customers. They are your guildmates.
A month later, 'Mori' is packed with customers.