The One Who Was a Returnee
There was a man called Hong Bi-cheong.
Hong Bi-cheong was an islander born in Ulleungdo.
Even on the island, his family was particularly poor, so from childhood, Bi-cheong's stomach was often empty.
Growing accustomed to dyeing his hungry stomach with the blue of the sky and the blue of the sea seemed like an inevitable fate for Bi-cheong.
'Is there any meaning to my being born?'
A martial arts novel he stumbled upon by chance gave young Bi-cheong a temporary signpost in life.
'Murim! Chivalry! That's right! Isn't this the very value a man should pursue after being born into this world!'
It was hard to see it as the correct meaning of life.
But to a child in the first place, especially to someone like Bi-cheong who suffered from hunger-induced blueness like a chronic illness, whether meaning was right or wrong didn't matter.
'A single sword! In this age of chaos, the only thing a great man like me can rely on is the sword!'
Every so often, there were those who felt the world around them like a vast ocean from the moment they were born.
They had to grab onto anything within reach, whether it was a ferryboat or a piece of driftwood. Otherwise, as humans who didn't know how to breathe underwater, they would only drown.
"Wait, Cheong-ah. What are you doing holding that staff?"
"Martial arts training! I'm going to become the greatest master under heaven, Mother!"
"Has he gone mad...?"
From birth, Bi-cheong was a castaway, and what he held in his hands was a wooden sword.
No, it was a stick too crude to even call a wooden sword. But young Bi-cheong roamed the mountains daily, training his eye to recognize which random piece of wood was the 'greatest sword under heaven.'
"Cheong-ah, did you finish your homework before doing this nonsense?"
"I'm on the verge of entering the pinnacle realm! Mother! Only by breaking through this barrier can I finally stand tall as a swordsman in Murim!"
"Oh my, our family has been cursed..."
Actually, Bi-cheong's mother's words were wrong. The family had been poor from the start, and there wasn't even room for more curses to creep in.
"I thought he'd do this for about two weeks then quit, but it's already been six years. Six years. He's insane."
"Since he likes swords so much, shouldn't we send him to a kendo dojo or something?"
"I wonder if there even is a kendo dojo in town..."
His mother struggled and struggled to find someone to bring in. There was no place nearby that hung up signs for Haedong Kendo or Daehan Kendo to do business, but there was an old man who supposedly learned the way under someone in his youth.
"What do you think, child? How about learning the sword properly from him?"
"Hmm."
Slide.
Young Bi-cheong examined the 'master' candidate his mother had brought. His gaze was extremely arrogant.
"About that level, I suppose..."
"?"
Bi-cheong's age was thirteen.
It was his second year of middle school.
"A small fry who barely touched first-rate, if that. He's someone who should be learning the sword from me instead. Hmm, not particularly to my liking. But since Mother worked hard to bring him, I suppose I'll take him as my disciple."
"??"
That day, the instructor with certification on Ulleungdo cursed furiously about what kind of mother and son these people were and left.
"You little brat! Living like that, what are you going to eat when you grow up! Huh?!"
"Mother. Making a living is important."
Bi-cheong spoke gravely.
"But soon an unprecedented age of chaos will descend upon the world! Now is the time when martial heroes must each build up their strength in preparation."
"What are you building up on this tiny island?"
"The Heavenly Demon of the chaotic age fears water. Like the Mongols of long ago, powerful on land but uncomfortable crossing seawater. This Ulleungdo is a natural fortress. The final bastion where the Dragon King of the East Sea resides, which even the Heavenly Demon dares not covet."
"Oh god! Damn it! I should just die! Oh! Heavenly Lord! Please just don't let that child starve to death!"
Not long after, Bi-cheong lost his mother.
It was difficult to scientifically determine how much influence Bi-cheong's insane existence had on his mother's lifespan.
Neither Bi-cheong nor his mother herself could know that the scientific cause of her death was lymphoma.
"Mother!"
Bi-cheong's tears scattered dramatically.
"I'm sorry for being such an unfilial son who couldn't serve you devotedly! Please watch over me from beyond the heavens! The filial piety I couldn't give to Mother, I will someday repay to the world through chivalry!"
For a mother who had already married into a poor island family, lost her husband to become fish food, and raised her child alone, this would be maddening, but unfortunately, the dead have no mouths.
Bi-cheong devoted himself to training.
"Dad, what's that person doing over there?"
"Shh. That's our neighborhood's famous lunatic. You must never acknowledge him."
Training!
"Why does that man always work out with weird Chinese songs playing on the radio?"
"You don't even know 'Men Should Self-Strengthen' (男兒當自強)? Haven't you seen the Wong Fei-hung movies?"
"What's that, you nerd."
"Wow. This is seriously not my fault."
Only training!
"I have no idea how that man stays alive without working."
"I observed him carefully for a whole day last time. You know the vegetable garden in his yard? He grows stuff there and strangely, the vegetables look really good."
"Does he have a talent for farming...?"
"So what. He only grows enough for himself."
One day, Bi-cheong met an immortal-like old man in his dreams.
—I am the 260th Sect Leader of Mount Hua Sect.
—I believed there was talent in the East capable of continuing Mount Hua's lineage, and now I see it is indeed you.
—I shall pass on to you the true teachings of Mount Hua!
Gasp.
Bi-cheong jumped up in shock. His whole body was drenched and his hair stood on end.
After a long while, he lamented.
"Huh! What a fateful encounter!"
In a word, it was a pipe dream.
After finishing his ritual cleansing (he had to walk quite a bit since the public bathhouse was in town), Bi-cheong bowed nine times toward Mount Hua in the west.
From that day on, whenever Bi-cheong dreamed, he continued his training within Mount Hua Sect.
"I merely thought it sufficient to wield a sword as one great man. But now that I've inherited the sect's lineage, I can't help but call myself 'this seat'!"
"Hey, what's that old man saying again?"
"I don't know. Just quietly pass by..."
Bi-cheong.
As time passed, he became a man who would buy a noble title from the Sirland Duchy and claim to be nobility.
He had never once been respected by another person. It was natural.
Bi-cheong was poor. He was strange. In the Korean Peninsula to begin with, the very mindset of dedicating one's life to the 'sword' was as alien as seeing an extraterrestrial.
"Hmm."
And then the Void arrived.
"So it begins."
Ulleungdo trembled in fear.
Thanks to the barrier called the East Sea, Ulleungdo's chaos was somewhat orderly. It didn't seem likely that the mayhem happening on the mainland would easily cross the sea.
Bi-cheong, now the Sword Marquess, seemed to be three or four steps removed from the anxiety that had swallowed the island.
"It's about time to leave my hermitage."
His eyes gleamed sharply.
"Eh? What, where are you going?"
"Murim."
"Crazy bastard. Do you know what kind of chaos is happening on the mainland right now? If you go, you'll die. People are dying in droves!"
"Murim."
"..."
"Only the rivers and lakes of Murim."
"Fuck."
The captain of the shabby boat cursed. He vowed to treat the customer before him not as a human but as a living piggy bank that had promptly paid thirty million won in full for the boat fare.
"I'm only taking you because I have relatives I have to pick up from the East Sea. Got it? I have absolutely no intention of docking anywhere else, so get lost on your own."
"That will suffice."
"Crazy old man. What shit luck..."
Creak, the waves rolled.
Let's pull in a different story for a moment.
The fate waiting for the Sword Marquess after coming to the mainland would generally be something like this.
—Oh my, lord Sword Marquess! We've been waiting! Please let us serve you, come this way!
The Undertaker waiting at the East Sea port would prostrate himself before the Sword Marquess and take him to Busan in the blink of an eye.
—Hmm. The ability to grow crops? After seeing nothing but people spouting nonsense all the time, seeing something like this is actually refreshing...
—I look forward to working with you in the future, elder...
A national-level dictator would respectfully address this shabby old man as 'elder' and treat him well.
—Ah. Found you, Grandpa!
—Hm? You know me?
—Of course. I know you well! I'm Oh Dok-seo, and there's a flower you need to grow, Grandpa! It's called the Udumbara, and you're the only one in this world who can mass-produce it! Come quickly, quickly!
—Now wait. This one has things to do...
—Ah, damn! Without Grandpa, the world will end!
Some girl wearing a hat would pretend to be close, hook her arm around the Sword Marquess's side, and drag him off somewhere like a kidnapping.
Truly strange fates.
Befitting the Sword Marquess, who had been evaluated as an eccentric by the world his entire life, the story destined for him was also quite peculiar.
But today, the Sword Marquess escaped that fate.
No, actually, regardless of what fate he was invited to, the final destination the Sword Marquess's blade aimed for existed separately.
When the world had perished after time passed.
Whether that destruction was the 100th, the 1,000th, or the 2,000th, it had absolutely nothing to do with the Sword Marquess.
"Hmm."
Busan, where the final defense line had been annihilated.
The puppet army commanded by Ha-yul had been destroyed without a single body remaining. The witches of Samcheon World could no longer soar, and the warriors of Baekwha Girls' High could no longer advance.
The command staff including the Undertaker had also been killed in action.
Now on the earth, there remained only the flower garden bloomed by the Saintess of the North. The largest garden in the world.
This was the world of the epilogue.
The land of destruction where time no longer flowed.
"At last, the time has come."
Right there, the Sword Marquess walked.
The Sword Marquess, holding a fake sword made of aluminum, crossed the battlefield alone.
—Uuuuurgh, ugh.
—Hee hee hee hee hee.
In the epilogue world, only beings with frozen time were crying and giggling with abandon.
Strangely, they didn't rush at the Sword Marquess when they saw him.
Though they should have been the ones who hated and envied living life more than anyone, they passed by as if they couldn't perceive the Sword Marquess at all.
After trampling the earth with the old man's worn weight, the Sword Marquess finally reached the great enemy he had targeted.
The prey he had aimed for from the start.
For decades, since he realized this world was an age of chaos, the opponent he had constantly marked with his blade was only one.
"Heavenly Demon."
"..."
Thud.
The being summoned by the Sword Marquess's voice turned around. Beautiful pink hair fluttered.
"This one has been waiting for you."
"..."
Glance.
The one called Heavenly Demon looked down at the old man's feet.
The footsteps continued from Busan's Tower of Babel. At each and every one of those footprints, silver-colored grass that had never existed on earth before had been crushed.
"...Stealth grass."
The being with pink hair murmured.
"Grass that vanishes from not only human perception but also from anomalies' recognition. A poisonous plant that even Ms. Ye-ji's Clairvoyance can't detect."
"You knew I would come."
"Yes. Because you almost always do."
"How cunning indeed."
In the middle of the battlefield.
On this land where destruction had already been confirmed, without anyone watching, two beings faced each other.
"Normally I'd play along appropriately, but today I'm also a bit serious, so I have no choice but to ask seriously."
"Good. I permit your question."
"Why do you call me Heavenly Demon?"
The Sword Marquess snorted.
"This heaven. As the demon who corrupted the human heart, all of it originated from you, so how could I not call you Heavenly Demon?"
"..."
"Buddha refers to one who attains enlightenment and exists on their own. Buddha refers to one who is not bound by the wheel of time but raises time itself. Heavenly Demon, Demon King. Mara Papiyasas was originally a phantom of time that tempted Buddha trying to escape from time, so it is the name most fitting to call only you in this world."
"Ahaha..."
The Heavenly Demon laughed softly.
"You knew I refrain from crossing the sea, so you deliberately stayed in Ulleungdo."
"That is correct."
"Though not as much as guns, swords are also weapons that anomalies like to inhabit. Therefore, a fake sword, not a real one. Something both humans and anomalies can't help but look down on as your weapon."
"Precisely so."
"In the end, aura is also a kind of anomaly. Therefore, you never relied on aura from the beginning."
"You know well."
"To kill me."
The Sword Marquess drew his sword.
He discarded the sheath. It had served its purpose.
"Today, here, evil shall perish."
The Heavenly Demon's eyes narrowed.
"I'm human. All humans, in fact."
"Then I must cut down a human."
"I am the enlightened one. A returnee, a Buddha."
"Then I shall cut down Buddha."
"I was your daughter."
"Then I will cut down my own child."
"I'm strong. And even if you kill me, that won't be my end. This isn't the first time we've had this conversation, is it?"
"That would be so."
"No one will acknowledge your struggle. They can't see it. They won't remember it."
"A martial hero does not seek understanding."
The Sword Marquess raised his sword.
"In heaven and earth, I alone am the honored one."
"..."
"This one is the greatest under heaven, the greatest of all ages, the Marquess protecting Yuldoguk, and the direct disciple of Mount Hua Sect's 260th Sect Leader."
The Sword Marquess stepped forward.
"And I am one human born as a mother's child."
They clashed.
The Heavenly Demon was indeed mighty. No human or demon would be sufficient to stop the Heavenly Demon.
But the bloody battle continued all day long.
Every time the Sword Marquess stepped on the ground and shed blood, flowers bloomed in those places.
Though the Saintess of the North had already made the entire world her garden, contaminating it with the Udumbara world tree, somehow, in the places touched by the Sword Marquess's footprints and blood, the Udumbara rotted and died.
Instead, plum blossoms bloomed.
The Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Technique.
In the blade consisting of twenty-four forms, the Sword Marquess imbued time one by one.
One. Plum blossoms bloomed in the ditch that had been infected by Udumbara.
Two. The plum petals scattered like butterflies, dancing and spreading gradually to the surroundings.
Three. The plum blossoms covered the Udumbara with their fragrance.
Four. The petals rode the contaminated world tree from root tip to branch tip, pushing forward as if slicing living flesh with a blade to draw blood.
Five. The plum blossoms covering Busan's world tree drank the falling sunlight and shone brilliantly.
Six. The massive plum blossoms that had now replaced the world tree scattered and scattered again from the world tree's branches cast over the earth.
Seven. The falling petals were numerous and dizzying, but it signified not the chaotic age's full bloom but the end of the chaotic age.
Eight. The petals fell like rain. Nine. The petals tore into nine streams and flowed into the entire world.
Ten. Because the life of a petal was to bloom life while killing itself.
Eleven.
A fragrance that would not disappear even after winter passed.
Twelve. And so, each time the Sword Marquess swung his sword, plum blossoms bloomed from a single ditch.
Thirteen. They spread across the earth.
Fourteen. They clustered in the sky.
Fifteen. Finally scattering across the world.
Sixteen. Forming an endless flower rain.
Seventeen. Just the shadows cast by the petals formed a green river current.
Eighteen. Beneath the flowing current, even the deepest roots of the Udumbara world tree rotted coldly.
Nineteen. The world gladly became drunk on that fragrance.
Twenty. The Sword Marquess felt the fragrance he had bloomed permeate his old bones.
Twenty-one. Finally, even the butterfly dance of the petals that had first formed the ditch subsided.
Twenty-two. The Sword Marquess felt that the blue of the waves that had dyed his heart since childhood no longer felt cold.
Twenty-three. The waves now carried the petals, rolling far, far away.
Let the blue fly. Let it fly high.
Soar into the blue.
And so.
Twenty-four.
The Flying Blue Style.
Ten Thousand Miles of Plum Blossom Fragrance.
May the fragrance of plum blossoms flow for ten thousand miles.
The beginning of that fight, the end of that fight, the multitude of people had no way to know.
No one even knew his name.
At the end of the epilogue. In formless time, he was fighting.
Though it was always a fight that ended in defeat.
In the time crumbling with the fragrance of petals, because the old man always believed in victory.
The waves carrying red flowers were no longer lonely.
-x-X-x-
The One Who Was an Impostor
There was a person named Kurosawa Touka.
"Touka-chan! Mom's heading out!"
"..."
Sadly, the population that still called her by that name had become an endangered species, with only one person left in the entire world.
In fact, just a few months ago, that population had numbered two.
There had been a woman named Sena. Kurosawa's girlfriend.
And at the same time, the girlfriend of three other women as well.
In her bedroom, Kurosawa muttered while staring down at her smartphone.
"That beastly woman..."
No matter how much she thought about it, this was a breach of contract.
Who could have imagined that her first ever same-sex lover, her first lover period, would turn out to be not a bipedal mammal but a quadrupedal reptile?
So this is why people hate Reptilians. As a member of humanity, Kurosawa had gained a profound lesson.
"And I was the fourth one at that...!"
Even harems had limits.
Who on earth would care about the fourth heroine? If you asked Japanese people to name the fourth most popular political party in this country, they'd answer "Um, the, Communist Party?" in an uncertain voice.
Moreover, when evaluated as a heroine, Kurosawa Touka herself came with a truly splendid array of tags like #mentally-ill, #gloomy, #dark, #jealous, #shut-in, #no-friends, and so on.
She might enjoy cult popularity among the extremely small minority who were afflicted with the incurable disease of sub-heroine worship, but even with their support rallying from their own little league, her chances of winning the election converged to zero.
So Kurosawa chose the method that defeated politicians typically select.
"I'm going to become a shut-in."
Withdrawing from society.
Actually, Kurosawa had expected her choice would create social ripples. After all, wasn't she a victim of a four-way same-sex love affair who'd holed herself up in her room?
And the reaction from those around her was.
"Ah. So it's finally happened."
"?"
Kurosawa's mother accepted her daughter's shut-in declaration with a completely calm face.
"Sure. Rest up. Rest all you want. But after six months pass, you'll need to either return to school or start a part-time job."
"?"
"If you don't get a job, I'm kicking you out of the house. Touka-chan."
"??"
Not the slightest hint of panic!
It was as if, based on physiognomy, she'd determined it was her child's natural destiny to evolve into a room-dweller, as if she'd predicted this situation years ago.
That's right.
Unfortunately, for parents on the Japanese archipelago raising kids these days, shut-in NEETs were no longer an unfamiliar alien species.
The older generation that had been caught off guard and helpless against the "living like human garbage" lifestyle had lost the survival competition and devolved into extinction.
Now only parents who had learned, in a young and MZ way, how to "counter the living like human garbage lifestyle" remained.
"Touka-chan! Mom's leaving for work, so come out and say goodbye! If you don't, no meal money today!"
"I-I'll see you later."
"Yup! Starting two months from now, you'll need to get a job. Better start preparing yourself mentally."
"But Mom, you have plenty of money..."
"That's my money, not yours, isn't it?"
"..."
"The value of labor is sacred. You'll understand once you work. Oh, I'm late for my meeting. I'm off! Love you! Touka-chan!"
Smooch, after planting a kiss on her daughter's cringing cheek, her mother rushed out in a flurry.
Ugh. Left alone, Kurosawa rubbed her cheek vigorously and couldn't help but realize.
'Mom's mental strength is way too strong...'
Today too, Kurosawa retreated dejectedly to her hideout, defeated by the combat power of a single-parent household career woman, former underground idol and current VTuber agency employee.
"Hah."
A two-and-a-half-pyeong private room.
Even the sigh she'd just exhaled had nowhere to escape and circled in the air, but Kurosawa had never once thought this room was cramped.
Was it because of her experience during high school when she'd run away from home and hung around with the Toyoko Kids members, falling asleep curled up back-to-back with each other in tiny hotel rooms?
–Anonymous: This is dangerous. The "Rumored Flower" was delivered to me too.
Or was it because whenever she turned on her smartphone, she could easily feel connected to a much wider world?
–Anonymous: Rumored Flower?
She couldn't tell which it was, but today too, Kurosawa casually took the bait on the message board.
–Anonymous: You don't know? It's a flower that gets delivered randomly anywhere via international shipping, with the sender even paying for delivery.
–Anonymous: Isn't that an urban legend? Can't trust what someone says without proof.
–Anonymous: Look, idiot.
Not long after, a photo was uploaded.
Looking at the image, Kurosawa muttered unconsciously.
"Eh? What is this flower?"
It was a red flower too beautiful to exist in reality.
Kurosawa always thought she had absolutely nothing in common with her mother except for their appearance, but there was one thing.
They shared a hobby of liking flowers and plants.
"Red spider lily... no way. A peony subspecies? No, no. It's too thin. And why is there purple mixed into the petals? Eh. This is definitely an AI photo, right?"
The opinions of the message board users were generally similar.
–Anonymous: Again... Don't you ever get tired of this?
–Anonymous: Stop forcibly importing memes popular overseas like Italian brain rot. It's neither funny nor moving.
–Anonymous: That's impossible. Yesterday a VTuber publicly said on stream they received the "Rumored Flower" too, so it's been noisy everywhere.
–Anonymous: Don't spread around what was said in a members-only stream!
–Anonymous: After animals, now plants. I laughed seeing the thought process of these idiots.
She felt slightly intrigued.
Kurosawa soon browsed various communities using search terms like "Rumored Flower" or "Udumbara."
She even logged into X for the first time in ages, having cut herself off from it completely when she broke up with her girlfriend.
"Wow. What the. It's actually famous?"
Indeed, perhaps she'd been a bit late to the news, as the "Rumored Flower" was already a hot topic everywhere.
"It doesn't seem to be AI... I think."
She murmured.
"Too many different angles for an AI photo. There are quite a few people who've shown their faces to verify it... This is really strange."
Normally, this would be the time she'd dive into the ocean of the internet and devote all her energy to slandering VTubers from rival companies to the agency her mother belonged to, her mother didn't know about this.
"But this flower is so pretty..."
For some reason, Kurosawa found herself focusing all her attention on finding information about the "Rumored Flower."
It was as if she'd been enchanted.
'There must be kids like me who are interested in this.'
She put down her smartphone and turned on her computer.
She dove a bit deeper into the information ocean. Feeling around the tip of the iceberg, she descended to its base.
A little trick she'd learned during her days as a runaway youth.
'Ah, this refreshing sensation.'
It was time to return to being Kuro, the internet detective.
How many hours passed like that?
–Anonymous: They say it's international shipping, but apparently all the sending locations are from Korea.
Found it.
–Anonymous: Korea?
Kurosawa held her breath and tapped away at her keyboard.
–Anonymous: Yeah. Busan in Korea specifically. My lover is Korean, so I asked a local to check, and they found an identical-looking flower at a flower shop somewhere in Busan.
–Anonymous: Proof photo?
–Anonymous: That's impossible. More importantly, it seems like a big-shot Korean politician is involved in this. The mayor of that city called Busan. It's shadier than I expected.
"A politician?!"
What is this? This is really an urban legend.
–Anonymous: I don't understand. Why would a Korean politician be delivering flowers to Japanese people?
–Anonymous: Agreed.
–Anonymous: Maybe it's a bioweapon terror attack or a cult or something?
–Anonymous: As far as I know, no cases of harm have been confirmed. It's too early to be certain, but I think it's safe to say there's no adverse health effects.
–Anonymous: Do you know which flower shop it is?
A slight time lag.
–Anonymous: Dang Flower Garden.
Another time lag.
–Anonymous: It's not just being shipped to Japan. America and China have it worse. Cases are being reported simultaneously all over the world.
–Anonymous: In my personal opinion, the phenomenon itself of fresh flowers spreading this quickly without going through quarantine is strange.
–Anonymous: So my conclusion is that while they look like fresh flowers, they're actually artificial flowers.
Artificial flowers.
Even though they're this beautiful, they're fake flowers?
–Anonymous: Literally the Rumored Flower. No, the Phantom Flower Udumbara.
"..."
That was the end of her information gathering.
"Hah."
Thud. Kurosawa collapsed her upper body onto the table, powerless. The energy she'd spent investigating non-stop for hours had vanished somewhere, and a deep sense of exhaustion wrapped around her entire body.
"So they were just artificial flowers that looked like fresh ones... What a garbage ending."
So that's all it was.
A bitter smile emerged from somewhere.
'It's an ending that suits a person like me perfectly.'
She had no dreams.
Despite having a parent who'd lived harder than anyone searching for their dreams, she herself felt like the wick of a candle that had already burned out despite never having blazed.
She'd wondered if something might change if she experienced love. Thanks to that, she'd probably gained a relationship experience that would never be ordinary, but had her life changed because of it? Well.
Garbage.
'I'm hungry.'
She wanted pizza.
Recently, the genes inherited from her mother had started preparing a rebellion in her belly fat, going "Hmm, the previous owner would burn calories practicing dance and singing around this time, but the new owner doesn't?" But still, pizza was hard to resist.
She ordered Domino's Pizza with the money her mom had deposited that morning.
After a while, confirming that the delivery person's presence had faded, she opened the front door and.
"...?"
Next to the familiar pizza box, an unfamiliar box sat there alone.
"What? Mom's package?"
Can't be helped. Just as she was about to perform the ultra-premium act of filial piety of bringing her parent's package inside herself, Kurosawa's hand froze.
[Dang Flower Garden]
Because those characters were unmistakably written on the box.
"....."
Thump thump thump thump.
Her heart pounded like crazy.
She'd have to start part-time work soon, so she couldn't completely forget how to talk to people, which is why she'd deliberately cultivated a habit of talking to herself, but right now even that habit had its pause button pressed.
"Eh."
Kurosawa quickly brought the box inside as if someone might see. Thud! Then, belatedly realizing she'd left the actually important pizza outside, she hurried to bring in the pizza too, thud.
"Eh."
Pizza wasn't good when it got cold. Hardened pizza cheese was truly the worst crime imaginable. But was pizza important right now?
"Eh."
Kurosawa quickly grabbed scissors and carefully tore through the cardboard box with a crunching sound. Carefully, so that whatever might be inside wouldn't get damaged, with trembling hands.
"Ehhhhhhhh?!"
And she saw it.
"No way?!"
There, a single red flower.
It was modestly inserted in a transparent plastic bottle.
"No way! No way, no way! This can't be! Wow. Is this real? Is it really a fresh flower?! No, no. They said it was artificial."
She touched it.
"It's a fresh flower?!"
She smelled it.
"It smells good! Eh, amazing! What! Did they forcibly add fragrance? No, but... This can't be. I've never seen a flower with a scent like this before!"
It was a perfume crafted from seven colors, a fragrance that had once been permitted to only one person in this world.
But the current Kurosawa couldn't possibly know that.
"Woooow..."
She placed it on the table and, forgetting to eat the pizza, Kurosawa stared blankly at the Udumbara.
"So pretty..."
Why was it?
"Ah, right! A photo! I need to take a photo!"
From the moment she first encountered it in a photo on the internet today, why did her heart keep fluttering whenever she looked at this flower?
"...Huh?"
She didn't really know.
It felt like something very sad had happened.
She'd gone missing somewhere. She'd be unable to meet her beloved mother again. Forever, forever.
Unable to meet forever.
"..."
Unable to say sorry or thank you.
Even though Mom said those words to her every day.
Unable to give back anything similar.
"Um, uh... If I do this, the photo..."
No one could save her.
Even if they wanted to, it was too late.
She wanted to become someone who wasn't embarrassed to say "I love you" to her.
That feeling.
That truly strange feeling, Kurosawa Touka felt it.
"..."
She put down her smartphone.
She took one photo, but didn't brag about it anywhere. Come to think of it, all the friends she could have bragged to had disappeared anyway.
'My flower.'
Kurosawa stroked the petals.
'It doesn't even exist in the world. People call it fake, artificial. But still... this is a flower that came to me. So I can call it whatever I want, right?'
For some reason, Kurosawa felt like she knew the name of those red petals.
'Touka.'[1]
That day.
"Mom."
"Mm. I saw the pizza box, so on days when you eat such heavy food, it's better to exercise. Otherwise you'll gain weight in an instant."
"I want to return to school."
"..."
"And I'm going to study abroad in Korea."
"Eh?"
"Ah, actually I don't necessarily need to study abroad. Um, if you want to work part-time in a foreign country, exchange study is the most convenient. Or I could just get a work visa and go, that's fine too."
"Eh?"
"There's a flower shop there that I really want to work at. I didn't know either... but if it's work related to flowers, I feel like I could really focus on it."
"Eh."
"But first I'm going to check if the flower shop I want to work at actually exists. So I bought a plane ticket to Korea. Departure in one week. Ah. My savings are really in danger now..."
"Ehh."
"If it doesn't work out, I'll just debut as an idol like Mom did when she was young. Your agency is recruiting VTubers this time, right? How about a mother-daughter VTuber? This could really work."
"Eh?"
Kurosawa Touka didn't know.
That she wasn't the only person who had found a red flower in front of their front door, there were several others as well.
One week passed.
Time moved forward.
That day, no one died from their head exploding because they foresaw a future they couldn't handle.
That day, Kurosawa Touka pulled her hood down low and boarded the plane while avoiding eye contact with the flight attendants as much as possible.
That day, the mother saw bright red petals falling in her traveling daughter's room instead of a single plum blossom blooming, and went "Huh?" tilting her head.
That day was…
June 17th.
Footnotes:
[1] The name "Touka (灯花)" uses characters meaning "lamp/light" and "flower," which becomes significant when she names the Udumbara after herself.
-x-X-x-
The One Who Was a Reincarnator
There was someone called Go Yuir.
"Wow, how can someone's name be Go Yuir!"
"?"
"Really. Don't you think Mother was too much? Naming the first child one and the second child two just because they're part of the Yu generation. Her naming sense is practically from the Joseon era. At least it's fortunate the hanja characters are different."[1]
"??"
"But I like it. My brother's name. Go Yuir (高曜日). It can be read as a quiet day, or it can be seen as a high and shining day."
The neighborhood hospital. A funeral.
Yuir, who had been silently handling his mother's funeral alone as a middle school student, was quite flustered.
"Brother...?"
"Yes."
"Uh, sorry, but noona. Anyone can see you're older than me. Aren't you a high school student?"
"Ah! Every time I hear brother call me noona, it makes me so happy. Please call me noona just ten more times from now on."
"..."
If you had to pick just one thing you shouldn't do at a funeral without hesitation, the answer should be resurrection.
However, young Yuir had just realized that 'a mourner you've never seen before claiming to be your younger sister' should also be included on that list.
"Don't be too flustered."
The person before him smiled brightly. It was a smile terribly bad for the heart.
"I'm not talking about this life. It's a connection from our past lives."
"Ah, that kind of setting?"
His mind and body quickly regained stability.
After all, anyone born in South Korea would automatically develop immunity the moment they received information that the other person was a cult member, even if they had none before.
"Ahaha. Brother's expression is amusing."
...But the other party seemed to be quite skilled.
Despite sending out a look that openly treated her like a lunatic, she didn't panic at all and sat down calmly at the funeral altar.
Even if there were no mourners right now, this was extremely rude.
"Excuse me. Sorry to say this when we've just met, but please leave now. If you don't, I'll call someone."
"Don't feel lonely because there are no mourners. One person will come in 3 minutes."
"Excuse me?"
"They're a colleague from the hospital where Mother used to work long ago. The next one will be in 16 minutes. And then in 60 minutes."
"..."
It was true.
"Oh my, Yuir. I saw you when you were just a baby, do you remember this lady?"
"Yes. Of course I remember."
"How did you grow up so properly!"
"Thank you so much for coming to visit."
"..."
What's more, the self-proclaimed younger sister who suddenly appeared naturally greeted the mourners together with him as if it were natural.
But there was something even stranger than that.
It was the fact that both Yuir himself and the mourners felt the sight of this woman bowing beside him infinitely 'natural'.
"Excuse me."
Eventually, after the promised 60 minutes had passed, Yuir had no choice but to ask carefully.
"Noona... Who exactly are you?"
"Oh dear. That's a question with so many possible answers, and yet no answer is possible."
"..."
"It's okay. We have time. No one will come to mourn until tomorrow morning."
The other party smiled gently.
"Shall we talk slowly?"
Yuir suddenly thought that smile was very beautiful.
Time was passing.
Her name was Go Yuri.
"Wow, how can someone's name be Go Yuri!"
"Mr. Undertaker, to remember the line you heard when we first met and come back later to use it as revenge, you're being too petty."
"..."
The honorifics mainly used were 'guild leader' or 'Mr. Undertaker'.
Unfortunately, the Yuir of this timeline hadn't formed a sibling alliance with his younger sister from childhood and committed all kinds of bizarre acts, so he had no immunity to otaku culture at all.
For an ordinary person, just hearing the pronunciation of 'brother' would naturally twist all the energy channels in their body as if they had encountered a spell from the Necronomicon.
For him to re-enter subculture would require time, a great deal of time ahead.
"Moreover, whether we were siblings in a past life or whatever, here you're older, aren't you? Even if you use honorifics, I should be the one using them to you..."
"Urgh."
"?"
"Ah, I'm sorry! Mr. Undertaker. I inadvertently faced the sight of Mr. Undertaker using honorifics to me with brother's face and brother's voice, and my stomach secreted spinal fluid causing a reflex reaction."
"..."
"For my mental health, could you speak casually to me? Oh. And I won't call Mr. Undertaker by your real name whenever possible."
"Why is that?"
"Haah. Mr. Undertaker occupies a really, extremely important position in my master plan. I need to keep your real name hidden as much as possible."
"...Weird girl."
Time was passing.
"Mr. Undertaker, you can do it! Fighting!"
"Kuaaaaa."
"Even when I wasn't born as family, Mr. Undertaker was accepted into medical school. Rather, after losing me as a younger sister, a period of wandering appeared in Mr. Undertaker's timeline and you fell behind. Haah. This younger sister's heart aches... Mr. Undertaker. Please remember the academic passion of your past life, past past life."
"So you're saying it's because of you in the end! I stopped studying from sixth grade of elementary school!"
"Ahaha. That's why I'm making an after-service visit to help like this, isn't it? Come on, if you memorize just a little more, even a perfect score on the college entrance exam isn't a dream. Fighting! Fighting!"
"Give me back my life! Give it back, you culprit!"
Time was passing.
"As I mentioned before, to infiltrate Cheon Yo-hwa's cult, your college entrance exam score is very important. It's a fact no one knows, but the cult leader here has a bit of an education complex."
"...I see. So creating Baekwha Girls' High as an educational foundation wasn't simply for the cult's future. There was also a personal desire?"
"That's just how the world works."
"Huh? What? Why did you pronounce that strangely just now?"
"Geez. This is why muggles are..."
"?"
Tap tap.
– Younger sister (?) / Go Yuri: How are things these days?
– Younger sister (?) / Go Yuri: I think it's going well, but I'm a bit anxious because there's no contact. Is everything alright?
– Me: It's fine. Everything's going well.
– Younger sister (?) / Go Yuri: That's a relief then! You're so reliable as expected. I'll visit you soon.
Ding dong.
"Huhaa. Oh no, this is terrible."
"What is?"
"I just pressed the doorbell, but the button must be stuck because the bell keeps ringing!"
"No. You're a teleporter. Wouldn't it be much more convenient to just move directly into my room here instead of the neighborhood alley?"
"Hmm. I tried that before."
"You did?"
"You cried and begged me to please respect your privacy. I also saw something I really didn't want to see."
"..."
"And I don't dislike it. Walking even a little and knocking on that person's door. It feels like I'm visiting, it's romantic."
"Romantic."
"First, let me praise you. You did very well! The work of instilling humanity in Yu Ji-won here is really difficult. Thanks to what happened this summer, later on..."
Ding dong.
"Eh?"
"Mm."
"Oh, it's Ji-won. Was today's visit scheduled?"
"Sorry, I forgot to tell you. She said she made too much food and would bring some over."
"This is terrible! If Ji-won discovers that Mr. Undertaker and I are alone together right now, she'll kill me and then the world will end!"
"No, there's no way..."
"Yap! Teleport."
"...She uses it well at times like this."
"Hmm. You were a bit slow opening the door today. Mr. Matiz. I thought I heard some conversation from inside just now, was someone here?"
Time was passing.
And.
"Oppa. Wake up. It's morning."
"...I don't know why I have to see your face right in front of me the moment I open my eyes. And I also don't know why I have to hear such a weird alarm sound."
"Oh my. Can you really afford to be so relaxed?"
"Mm?"
"Tomorrow is finally D-Day."
"...Ah."
That day was approaching.
"Yes."
Summer.
D-Day.
June 17th.
"It's regrettable, but tomorrow is the day Mr. Undertaker and I must part!"
"..."
Their time together was preparing for a funeral.
That day was full of strange things from the morning.
"You want to take the train down?"
"Yes. From now on, we might be indebted to this space hundreds, maybe thousands or tens of thousands of times. While you still haven't lost your memories, I think it would be good to take a tour in advance."
"..."
"Come on, Mr. Undertaker."
Yuri extended her hand.
"Mmm. Mr. Go Yuir."
"..."
"Let's go together."
They walked.
Throughout the walk, Yuri held his hand making him feel embarrassed, but in fact there was no reason for Yuir to be embarrassed.
No one was watching them.
No, not even the sound of a 'third party's' footsteps could be heard on the path where Yuri and Yuir were walking.
"Is this also a trick you orchestrated?"
"Yes. Only on June 16th, if I manipulate this and that, I can make the number of pedestrians on this path exactly zero."
"An amazing coincidence."
"Yes! That's why I specifically set the execution date for tomorrow. I really wanted to travel to the destination like this at least once without using teleportation."
"..."
Just like an ordinary human.
From leaving home to arriving at the station, passing through the ticket gate, boarding the train until arriving in Busan.
The two really didn't encounter anyone at all.
Although the world still needed a bit more time before its destruction, it was as if only the two of them were previewing the destruction and walking through it.
"Now that I think about it."
Busan Station waiting room.
Yuir asked her why she had orchestrated their 'first meeting' at his mother's funeral of all times.
Then Yuri gave an awkward smile.
"You were too young then, weren't you? Ah, from my perspective you're still very, very young though."
"So?"
"No matter how mature Mr. Undertaker was from childhood. The task of greeting mourners alone. That's absolutely not an easy thing for a middle school student."
"..."
"People have moments when they wish someone would be by their side. Once, long before now, Mr. Undertaker confessed that you were very lonely and had a hard time back then."
Yuir wanted to ask.
Then do you also sometimes wish someone would be by your side?
"But now you'll remember that day completely differently. Even though it's a sad day when you held Mother's funeral..."
"It's also the day I met you."
"Yes. Isn't it mysterious?"
Grin.
"The way people comfort people isn't ultimately about making sadness disappear. It's simply about adding another memory to it."
"...I see."
"Yes. I'll disappear someday, and Mr. Undertaker is also destined to lose all memories. Nevertheless, before that day arrives, I wanted to give you as many happy memories as possible. Ah."
Souvenir shop.
While looking around a shop where the owner was also 'coincidentally' away, Yuri pointed at something.
"This. The price is incredibly cheap but it's surprisingly pretty."
It was a silver bell.
Since it wasn't a recent product but was released quite a while ago, the price was cheap and there was some dust on it.
Yuri had discovered a product with exactly 2 remaining in the corner of the display.
"Do you like it?"
"Yes!"
Yuir silently picked up the product.
And after placing a ten thousand won bill on the unmanned cash register, he returned to Yuri.
She tilted her head.
"This is?"
"A gift."
"Oh my."
"Since it's the last day, it would be better to give you something more wonderful... But anyway, you've experienced all the luxuries I can't even imagine through countless reincarnations. So."
Squeeze.
While placing the silver bell in Yuri's hand, Yuir covered her hand with his palm.
"I'll give this as a relic of this place that will become our graveyard."
"..."
"According to your 'plan', someday I'll forget you."
"Yes."
"I swear here on this spot."
Casting a glance at the one remaining silver bell in the corner of the display, Yuir looked at her.
"Tomorrow. The day when everything ends and everything begins. Even if I forget you, I will definitely, no matter what happens, take that remaining half of the silver bell."
"..."
Yuri's eyebrows slid together.
"I'm sorry but that's impossible. I've become an irreplaceably precious existence to Mr. Undertaker and so the moment I disappear, Mr. Undertaker will be reborn as an unprecedented multi-awakener. It's all destined fate."
"Right. It would be impossible."
The strength in their clasped hands didn't weaken.
"So this is a kind of test."
"A test?"
"If tomorrow comes and I don't have the silver bell, then what you judged 'impossible' is truly 'impossible'. Everything will flow according to your plan. Both you and I will simply disappear leaving only traces behind."
However, Yuir said.
"If I don't forget."
"..."
"If I've forgotten you but still hold this toy that has no sparkle or nobility in my hand. Couldn't that be seen as a very small miracle?"
If such a thing happens.
"It brings hope."
"..."
"Even if it's a very small hope, it doesn't matter. I hope you'll think, even just a little bit, that something you considered impossible might perhaps be possible."
Silence continued.
Yuir let go of her hand. Left alone, Yuri's hand still held the silver bell he had given her.
"...Yes."
Squeeze.
Yuri took that shabby inventory item. That one bell remaining at this edge-of-the-earth station, unable to endure the person who would believe in it in this world.
She clasped it with both hands and held it against her heart.
"I'll believe."
It was a promise.
"I'll wait."
An oath where the hour and minute hands overlapped to become one.
"Forever."
And then emptiness arrived...
.
.
.
.
.
.
"I am Mister's savior."
Toward the hour and minute hands that had crossed.
"Come on, Mister!"
The second hand, always the youngest and fastest, extended its hand.
While smiling broadly.
"Now let's go save Mister's love together!"
And time arrived.
Footnotes:
[1] Sino-Korean uses 일 (il) for 1, 이 (i) for 2. In Korean culture, each same generation name has a letter assigned to it in each family, in this case "Yu".
-x-X-x-
The Savior Ω I
The old Baekje Hospital. Café.
Emit Schopenhauer was in high spirits.
Partly because he'd just enjoyed a delicious cup of coffee, but more importantly, the loveliest wife in the world was approaching in real time.
"Now then, Embalmer. I simply must ask because I'm dying to know. Exactly how many cycles have you gone through?"
His voice naturally took on the color of a cheerful rhythm.
To be honest, this whole situation felt like a dream to Schopenhauer.
How could he not be happy when he'd just achieved the most important bucket list item of his life?
"Well, let's see. The cycles I actively went through myself are roughly around 2,000. But if you add them all up, it easily exceeds 3,000."
"Oh."
Schopenhauer's voice remained leisurely soaked in the melody of a happy march.
"I figured I'd gone through at least a thousand by the time I died. I suppose the density of time was somewhat different between you and me."
"That's right."
"How long did you live per cycle?"
"Hmm."
"You don't need to give me an exact number. I'm guessing you lived about five years per cycle..."
"Well, the calculation isn't too far off. About twenty years."
A pause.
"Twenty years?"
"Yes."
"..."
Schopenhauer's gaze slowly turned.
The table across from him.
There sat a man sipping his already cold café au lait. From a first-person perspective, the Undertaker. From a third-person omniscient author's viewpoint, a man called Go Yuir.
"Hmm..."
Schopenhauer set down his coffee cup.
Something trickled down the back of his neck.
A secretion commonly known as cold sweat, designed to be released from the Homo sapiens body primarily when detecting that one is utterly screwed.
"What an amusing joke. If that number were true, wouldn't that mean the equation of 3,000 cycles multiplied by 20 years holds? Haha. Roughly 60,000 years old, you say."
"Ah. It's not quite that much. I took vacations and such. The most recent 1,000 cycles or so, the world ended early. It's 50,000 years old."
"Hmm."
The cold sweat wouldn't stop.
"By the way, old man."
"Y-yes?"
"In human relationships, there must be proper courtesy. That's a fact stated in the words of Confucius, whom you loved so much."
"That's right?"
"The foundation of courtesy is showing respect to those who have gone ahead of you, and in East Asia, that respect is simply expressed through honorifics."
"...And?"
"Might I ask how old you are, old man?"
"..."
Thunk.
Go Yuir set down his porcelain cup and smiled brightly.
"Emit Schopenhauer."
"What?"
"Your tone. Don't raise your tone."
"..."
"Even if I've aged, I've lived at least fifty thousand years more than you."
"....."
"Now then. Who's the youngster here?"
Schopenhauer felt his vision grow distant.
This was a nightmare.
"Come now, swing it properly."
"Ack!"
"I don't have high expectations for you. I'm only asking that you swing the sword correctly. Weren't you supposed to be a swordsman? Are my expectations too high?"
"Ack! No, sir!"
"Your sword path is crooked. Again. You got it wrong again, so repeat it 5,000 more times."
"Son of a..."
"Son of, what? Since my colleague abandoned the world, I've aged all alone and my hearing has dulled. Speak loudly so these old ears can hear you."
"No, sir! Aaaaaah!"
People whispered as they passed through the plaza.
"Mom, what are those people doing?"
"Shh. Be quiet!"
It was still June. A time when civilization was less destroyed and more in the process of being destroyed.
There were still pedestrians walking the streets of Busan. Having to strip to the waist and drip with sweat in front of such ordinary people was killing Schopenhauer.
But the balance of the world must always be maintained.
"Tsk, tsk. Calling yourself a swordsman when you can't even use a sword properly."
Someone's death became someone else's life.
The Undertaker, swordsmanship instructor, was savoring being alive in real time.
"Huh? Like this. Huh? I said swing it like this. Ah, really. Is this difficult?"
"Fuck, it's damn difficult! You bastard! How am I supposed to catch up to a crazy person who's been swinging a sword for tens of thousands of years?!"
Schopenhauer burst out shouting. He still vividly remembered getting beaten for about five minutes after doing this earlier, but he couldn't hold it in.
The Undertaker replied indifferently.
"Then you shouldn't have kept regressing for tens of thousands of years."
"..."
"Do you know why I trained with the sword? Old man. It was all so that in the distant future, when you joined the Regression Alliance, I could personally master and pass on the strategy guide to raise you into the ultimate swordsman. With my heart for you and my faith in you alone, I picked up the sword. And you're saying this is difficult? Good grief. This is why trusting people is utterly useless. What can I do if you say you can't do it? I'll just have to break the sword, I suppose."
"You... son of a bitch..."
Schopenhauer despaired.
No matter how he rebelled, there was no way to win this war of words.
Justification, skill, logic. He was getting crushed in every aspect. There was simply no way to counter the argument of "if you don't like it, you shouldn't have regressed."
"Mister!"
A girl with red hair wearing a cap backwards came running with quick steps. It was Oh Dok-seo.
Paper cups sloshed in both of Dok-seo's hands.
"Here! I got you a caffeine booster!"
"Ah. Thanks. You're the only one I can count on, Dok-seo."
"Right? Yay!"
Clap! Dok-seo jumped and high-fived the Undertaker.
On the surface, an innocent girl.
But Schopenhauer never let his guard down.
Over the past few days, he'd painfully learned that behind that pure smile lurked a streak of madness no less than the Undertaker's.
"Actually, at this point in time, there aren't any Regression Alliance members with deep ties to Mister, right? Cheon Yo-hwa and Dang Seo-rin were originally people Mister should have saved, but I did it first. Mister must be very proud of me, but at the same time, part of your heart must feel like you've been NTR'd..."
"Exactly right."
"But don't worry! Mister! I have absolutely no intention of stealing your heroine candidates! Rather, I'll support you with all my power from the front and back so that mister can NTR me!"
"You... What taste..."
"Ehehehehe."
"Ahahaha."
Crazy bastards.
Something more flowed out from Schopenhauer's head, which already felt like it was losing its mind. Humanity. Or perhaps his soul had taken a leave of absence.
Listening to these two regressors and possessors converse in real time caused his SAN [1] value to plummet.
He'd tried to understand them, but the only truth he'd gained from that effort was that these creatures were human grimoires that drove the reader increasingly mad the more deeply one understood them.
"But how long are we going to keep training that mutt No-sc
ho? That old man washed out in the early cycles. Won't we have to invest hundreds more cycles in training if we want to use him now?"
"Well, whatever. It's no big deal."
Really crazy bastards.
Schopenhauer's hand trembled as he swung his sword.
Just one week had already brought this much suffering, and they expected him to repeat this for hundreds of cycles, averaging twenty years per cycle? Was this hell?
'These aren't humans. They're monsters wearing human skin. Only I, who maintains my humanity despite being a regressor, can be the one to subjugate them.'
"Hm? Trainee Schopenhauer. There's no focus in your sword tip. Should I take this as a declaration that you don't want to go home tonight and have dinner with Lady Adele?"
"No, siiiiir!!"
"Depending on your attitude, I can become either the King of Hell or Confucius. What kind of trainee do you want to be when you meet Lady Adele?"
"Wh-what kind of trainee?"
"Are you a No-sho Untermensch trainee who doesn't apply yourself earnestly to training? Or are you a properly squared-away Übermensch trainee, a stalwart of regression?"
Gasp, Dok-seo, who'd been slurping her bubble tea on the side, furrowed her eyebrows.
Her straw was trembling.
"Suddenly hearing that the family of the person I saved is Untermensch drains all my strength. What should I do? I have no strength or energy. At this rate, I might just throw away all my comrades and the world and record the fact that there existed a human who regressed for 3,000 cycles and publish it in Germany. I feel like I'm about to commit the greatest sin as an author..."
Bastards.
Tears welled up in Schopenhauer's eyes.
Actually, the tears Schopenhauer shed were closer to an exaggeration.
At least from the perspective of the Undertaker and Dok-seo, the ones who'd personally bled to forge the strategy routes themselves, it was rather unsatisfactory.
Nevertheless, the reason these two invested time in the shitty game of Swordmaster Maker while indulging the complaints of "kids these days and old folks these days" was simple.
"That old man's authority isn't strictly swordsmanship. It's the ability to cut anything."
"Yeah. Right."
Strategy meeting.
Leaving the old man Scho passed out at their feet after training all day, the Undertaker and Dok-seo were already discussing the next cycle.
"So far, what No-sho can cut is at most the physical reality of the present world. But if he follows mister's training and grows..."
"Looking purely at the authority's potential, he could eventually cut even abstract concepts."
Both of them nodded simultaneously.
"Isn't that a totally broken ability?"
"It is."
This was precisely why the Undertaker had never given up on his former comrade Emit Schopenhauer until the very end.
"Without having to rely on Leviathan's aura, the old man can fight anomalies essentially as if he were an aura user who'd reached the extreme limits of aura."
"Wow. If I had that kind of ability, I'd seriously bow three times a day saying thank you, Mr. Go Yuir. What's No-sho complaining about?"
"That's what I'm saying."
"Grrrk, hrrgh, kkk..."
Occasionally Schopenhauer convulsed even while passed out, but unfortunately, there was no one here to empathize with his suffering.
It hurt because he was an awakener.
"Haah."
Around the time the old man's groans subsided, Dok-seo stretched out both legs and looked up at the night sky.
"It's like... seeing Mister in person and talking like this really feels like a dream."
"...Does it?"
"Yeah. Well, from my perspective, Mister was a character in a novel. A prophet in a book of prophecy. So naturally it feels new."
Dok-seo spoke as if it were nothing.
"It's for moments exactly like this that hundreds and thousands of versions of me died..."
"..."
"Hm? Ah. You don't need to feel sorry. I did it because I wanted to. Rather, I feel bad that I died so much that I kept forcing those twenty-year cycles on mister."
Dok-seo giggled.
"You know what? Actually, Ye-ji unni and I teamed up to secretly peek at mister from the '0th cycle' days from afar?"
"My goodness."
"Even though my schedule was so packed I barely had time for it. I just couldn't help being so curious. What kind of person could it be? What kind of face would the regressor that the past versions of 'me,' the future me, tried to save with a strategy guide written in blood have..."
The night sky that inhaled Dok-seo's breath filled with a bit more moisture, and so the starlight exhaled a slightly more faint sparkle.
The oldest secret in life.
That the twinkling of the stars and the beating of the heart sometimes matched rhythms seemed to fascinate Dok-seo.
"So what was your impression after spying?"
"Ah, that's not him."
Dok-seo turned her head to look at the Undertaker. Her red eyes were a bit intoxicated by the stars.
"The person I want to save isn't that man."
"..."
"I didn't want to save Go Yuir who lost all his memories from thousands of cycles and finally returned to being an ordinary human. I wanted to save a human who walked forward while enduring all that time."
Swoosh.
Dok-seo stroked the back of his hand.
Originally, from the Undertaker's perspective, he hadn't thought much of it.
Even within the Regression Alliance, the Brats' Axis Powers consisting of Ha-yul, Dok-seo, and Ah-ryeon enjoyed considerable freedom when it came to skinship with the Undertaker compared to other members.
After all, their romantic possibilities had broken through the zero percent barrier.
"When I entered the Busan Station waiting room and saw mister for the 'first time,' I was convinced again. Wow. A completely different being from the person I'd peeked at a few days earlier was standing there, wasn't it?"
"..."
But…
'Wait a minute?'
Thump.
The Undertaker sensed something ominous.
'Hold on. Come to think of it, the Dok-seo of the past was a trash author who only kept abandoning her work. But the one before my eyes is a legendary possessor who personally realized a miracle comparable to Go Yuir or me... isn't she?'
The Undertaker had unconsciously been treating the Dok-seo before his eyes as just Dok-seo. The rice moocher who was part of the Brats.
But naturally, Oh Dok-seo from back then and the current Dok-seo held résumés of completely different density.
'The one who recruited all the key figures including Yo-hwa within just about a month, rescued Lady Adele, improved the Udumbara through the Sword Marquess, manipulated Jung Sang-guk, and shipped the awakening ability eraser not just nationwide but worldwide.'
In what way could this possibly be that trash author from back then?
In the first place, this Dok-seo before his eyes had originally had long hair until they met at the Busan Station waiting room.
She'd only performed the act of cutting her hair to still appear as "the Dok-seo the Undertaker knew."
In other words?
A monster who'd farmed experience points in areas the Undertaker didn't know about rather than the parts he did know. That was the current Dok-seo.
"I don't want an ending where Mister vainly loses all your memories and abilities. That's a different person from the mister I want."
Emotions that were hard to describe mixed and dissolved in her red eyes.
"So just like No-sho ran away through regression, I hope mister will abandon any thoughts of running away through salvation or sacrifice early on."
Squeeze.
Dok-seo's grip on the Undertaker's hand tightened a bit more.
"I want the mister you are right now."
In that moment.
'Wait, am I right now. Possibly...'
Inside the Undertaker's head, a very special type of siren that had never once been triggered by the person before his eyes began to ring violently.
'Am I being flirted with? By Dok-seo??'
Alias, Undertaker.
Real name, Go Yuir.
The crisis of a lifetime.
Footnotes:
[1] SAN is short for sanity, it's used as a shorthand name for sanity based mechanics in games like for example a bar exemplifying how much sanity your character has left.
-x-X-x-
The Savior Ω II
[Dok-seo's Glare attack!]
[It was super effective!]
Spooked by Dok-seo's ominous stare, I hastily threw together whatever excuses I could find and fled without looking back.
A sigh escaped me naturally.
"Life sure isn't easy."
"Ahaha. You're breaking out in a cold sweat. Don't you think the guild leader overreacted a bit?"
Yuri said.
By the way, to mention it again, Yuri was currently equipped with a 24-hour stealth function. In the truest sense, she had become 'one' with me, so she was visible only to me in this world.
"Think about it. Ms. Dok-seo has always kept flirting on the tip of her tongue. Things like 'I'll save you' or 'Only I can understand you.' She's shamelessly been saying things with that kind of nuance all the time, hasn't she?"
The face smiling demurely before my eyes right now, the voice humming with interest, all of it was merely hundreds of millions of Yuris who had seeped into my 'memory' combining to form a single personality. In a way, it wouldn't be entirely wrong to say I was currently suffering from the ultimate dissociative identity disorder, what you might call multiple personalities. It just happened to have the rather trivial feature that the different personalities could communicate freely in real-time.
"So what? If Dok-seo was acting the same as always, where did that ominous feeling I had earlier come from? Was my intuition just acting up?"
"Oh come on, it's obvious."
Yuri laughed softly.
"Ms. Dok-seo hasn't changed. Then the inevitable conclusion is that what changed was Guild Leader."
"What?"
"Guild Leader, toward Ms. Dok-seo."
Yuri deliberately enunciated each syllable as if to leave no room for doubt.
"If you keep staying together like this, you might develop feelings quite different from before, so you sensed that somehow and ran away before that could happen."
"..."
But no matter how well you enunciate nonsense as 'non/sense,' it doesn't suddenly evolve into an apodictic proposition.
"Are you saying right now that I almost fell for that brat Dok-seo??"
"Yes."
"You've finally lost it, Go Yuri!"
"But think about it from their perspective. The people who fell for Guild Leader all started with the same trigger, when they had no hope at all and Guild Leader helped them."
The smiley emoticon on Yuri's face showed no signs of fading.
"Then wouldn't it be the same for Guild Leader? You were all set to wrap things up here. Dok-seo-ssi, whom you didn't expect at all, personally threw herself into helping Guild Leader for hundreds of cycles."
"..."
"When you save someone, they save you too. Ahh. It really is a proverb that's been passed down in the Void for ages."
"I've never heard of such a proverb!!"
Absolutely not, no matter what, I could never, ever admit it!
'Me getting butterflies over Dok-seo? Ha! This self-proclaimed little sister has really lost it. Oh Dok-seo? O-o-oh Dok-seo?! I'd rather date Inunaki Tunnel or Meteor Shower!'
"Guild Leader. I'm parasitizing your brain, so I can hear everything even when you say it in your inner thoughts."
"Respect my privacy a little!"
"Hmm. Well. From the moment you decided to seal your entire life story in a novel and reveal it to the world, hadn't your private life already gone missing?"
"..."
"And Inunaki Tunnel's essence is a young girl, and Meteor Shower's essence is a married woman comforting children. My goodness. I had no idea Guild Leader's tastes were so broad."
"That's just, it's just a figure of speech! I meant I'd rather join hands with anomalies than get butterflies over Oh Dok-seo!"
"You'd only hold hands? My goodness."
"I really can't say a single word to you!"
Yuri chuckled.
"Sorry. But I can't help it. It's a sibling's fate to catch each other's weak points and tease them until death."
"Eh, Undertaker-san?"
Someone called from behind.
Someone Japanese.
I turned around to see a person with black hair wearing an apron, arms full of boxes.
"Ah. Kurosawa."
"Yes, yes. Good evening."
Bow.
Kurosawa Touka, a girl more familiar to me by the slightly shorter nickname Kuro than her full name, hurriedly lowered her head. The work apron she wore had four characters printed on it.
[Dang Flower Garden].
This girl who looked a bit scatterbrained on the surface had, surprisingly, recently stormed into Seo-rin's flower shop alone and made a PR pitch about '108 Reasons Why Your Company Should Hire a Talent Like Me.' Dang Family Flower Garden, which had insisted on K-style nepotistic management, was moved by this new generation's passion. As a result, Kurosawa succeeded in claiming the title of the first foreign worker at Dang Family Flower Garden.
"Are you working this late?"
I smiled.
"It's quite late. Must be hard work for a part-timer."
"It's… It's not just a simple part-time job. I really, truly want to learn this and that from this flower shop. Um. Etto."
"Hm?"
Kurosawa put down the boxes. Then, even though she'd just greeted me, as if that wasn't enough, she bowed again at a 90-degree angle.
"La-last time, for bringing my mother to this village! I'm truly grateful!"
"Ah."
I smiled bitterly.
"Didn't you already come with your mother to say thanks before?"
"Sti-still. I haven't repaid my debt to Undertaker-san yet. Before I repay it, well. Even after I repay it, I need to keep feeling grateful."
Kurosawa's words weren't fast. She didn't seem like someone skilled at interpersonal relationships to begin with. She'd probably lived a life learning more about fermentation methods than methods of opening up her heart to others. Even so, Kurosawa was carefully stitching together the words she must have practiced in her mind countless times before running into me by chance.
"You see. Not long after we arrived in Busan, I heard about the chaos that broke out in Tokyo, and I was so worried. What if something happened to Mom, I thought I'd go crazy."
"..."
"But then I heard that Undertaker-san went to Tokyo and resolved all those things. I cried a lot then."
"Did Seo-rin tell you?"
"Dok-seo-san told me!"
"I see."
Of course, the reason I went to the Japanese archipelago wasn't to save Kurosawa Touka's mother, but to leave an impression on the key figures who would later form the Magical Girl Association. In other words, it was a favorability grind. Bringing Kuro's mother to Busan was just a 'side' quest I accomplished along the way. But every alleyway is someone's front yard. My side quest was inevitably someone else's main quest.
"Arigato Gozaimasu! Tha-thank you!"
"..."
The first thanks was in Japanese, the second in Korean that was still inevitably awkward.
Kurosawa under the night sky.
Suddenly, next to her...
――――――――――
Please give me good luck. Let me avoid all those 'chance misfortunes' like dying from a randomly falling rock.
――――――――――
A corpse, its entire body covered in monkey fur and turned pitch black, stood silently.
This too was a phantom visible only to my eyes in this world. In the distant past, from the moment I picked up the 'Monkey's Paw' in the 444th cycle, this was the fate of a girl named Kuro discovered at the entrance to Seongsan Ilchulbong Peak in Jeju Island.
――――――――――
I'm sorry for being born.
Mr. Monkey's Paw, please make me disappear.
――――――――――
The girl left those words in her diary as her last will before vanishing.
And now before my eyes, instead of an ominous furry corpse, there was a child bowing her head, covered in dirt and the smell of grass from working hard late into the night.
"I'm glad."
"? Yes?"
"Get off work quickly. I've kept a busy person here too long. Give my regards to your mother."
"Ah. Yes, yes! Have a good night!"
Even as Kurosawa left, she kept turning around from afar, bowing multiple times.
When her retreating figure melted into the darkness beyond the seventh streetlight, Yuri spoke.
"She's a good person."
"Yeah."
"The scenery of the route reached by the possessor and regressor joining forces. I think it's not bad."
The situation was much better than before. Even within an endlessly tight schedule, Dok-seo had delivered Udumbara to as many awakeners as possible before June 17th. This Udumbara itself was a subspecies improved by Sword Marquess. Originally, it would parasitize the user's body to grant immortal life in name only, but this Udumbara-Plum Blossom would transform into plum blossoms on its own after a certain period.
"Most of the Monster Waves have been repelled too."
Yuri, naturally reading my mind, chimed in.
"Though some minor problems remain. Those will naturally resolve once we completely subjugate the Great Voids."
"And the remaining Great Voids are..."
"One is White Night, which descended on Seoul not long ago."
Yuri smiled.
"And the other is Dream within Dream. The unconscious underground where I arbitrarily set up residence, borrowing the dreams of all humanity."
"..."
"It's my final sanctuary."
"As you all know, the old man's regression point is around 13:59 on June 17th."
Tower of Babel.
In the meeting room of the National Road Management Corps, established without fail in this cycle too, the members of the Regression Alliance each wore their own serious expressions. The one leading the meeting was Oh Dok-seo.
"And Seoul's White Night. The starting point of the Void descent that turned south of the Han River into a wasteland in one fell swoop is precisely the same day, June 17th at exactly 14:00."
"..."
"In other words, there's only a difference of one minute."
All the Regression Alliance members were listening to Dok-seo's words with utmost care. It was a scene that felt unbearably awkward to me, but for the other Regression Alliance members, this was actually more familiar.
'It's like.'
Glance.
In a corner of the meeting room that no one but me paid attention to, a reincarnator with pink hair stood silently.
'Just as the regressor called me received the baton from the reincarnator who once shouldered humanity's frontline.'
The era flowed forward like a river. Greedily, drinking up the reincarnator's soul and inhaling the regressor's blood. Licking up everyone's wounds without leaving a trace, without any blood, leaving only faint traces of the smell of blood scattered everywhere. Because of that, while time was a river, it wasn't water but a river made of blood at any moment.
"So my role, having prophesied the truth of this world before the mister, is simple. Pave the way before the old man regresses."
Still, this aged old woman had one final mission left before exiting from the era.
"One minute. We have to prevent White Night from erupting in Seoul within just one minute."
Seal all Voids at their source. Only then can the earth return to its original form with no one dying from anomalies.
"It's not just Seoul. We have to subjugate Dream within Dream simultaneously too. That way, within one minute, we subjugate the last Outer God, Go Yuri, who has secluded herself in everyone's dreams."
□.
"Only then will our world be truly liberated from anomalies."
"..."
"The reincarnator's hundreds of millions of years. The regressor's tens of thousands of years. My decades. All those years of toil rest on this one minute of subjugation."
"I have a question."
Ji-won raised her hand.
"I'm aware that a large-scale Void occurred in Seoul. And that it's called White Night. But what kind of Void is it specifically that we need to subjugate it in conjunction with Go Yuri's Dream within Dream?"
"It was an incineration."
The person in question, Yuri, answered. However, Yuri's words didn't reach the meeting. Therefore, Yuri could only participate in the meeting through my mouth. It wasn't strange. That was originally my role as a shaman (ZERO_SUGAR), connecting the divine Realm and human realm.
"Guild Leader is a regressor."
The traces of Go Yuri, the first human to reach the divine realm, spoke.
"The world always resets based on the regressor's standard. But it's not a perfectly flawless initialization. Time always leaves residue. Even if they can't perceive the fact that the world is repeating due to regression itself, faint, sometimes truly faint reverberations remain."
"I see."
Ji-won nodded.
"In terms of anomalies, things like the Infinite Metagame or the Mastermind. In terms of humans, things like prophets or possessors. As regressions repeat, residues that detect that fact accumulate."
"That's right."
Go Yuri smiled gently as she looked around at her 'unnies.'
"Even for a regressor who's only lived tens of thousands of years, such residues accumulated. What about me, who's repeated reincarnation for over tens of billions of years?"
"..."
"Anomalies and awakeners who detected my reincarnation emerged, like Mr. Sword Marquess's case. Very occasionally. But over tens of billions of years, these occasional instances piled up until they became delusions."
It was troublesome for Go Yuri. The secret of reincarnation being discovered by anomalies was the first problem. And awakeners inferring the identity of the '□' pierced through their hearts, causing the abilities they'd painstakingly awakened to weaken, was the second problem.
"So I decided to gather all this temporal garbage and incinerate it all at once."
"Incineration."
"Erase the traces of the reincarnator itself. So that neither anomalies nor humans can notice. Thus, achieving my victory over anomalies and leaving humanity with an empty wound. That was the purpose of the incineration."
The location of that incinerator.
"South of the Han River."
The very name of that funeral.
"White Night."
Yuri smiled.
"The white night I spread out first to bring the world I dreamed of again and again down to earth."
Dreams and night.
Therefore.
"If White Night misfires, my entire plan collapses. I'll be demoted from just a reverberation remaining in dreams to an actual human who once lived in this reality."
"..."
A quiet air circulated through the meeting room. They fell silent for a moment at the reincarnator's scheme, who hadn't hesitated at any karmic killing to make her plan succeed.
"Right."
Oh Dok-seo nodded in an unchanged tone.
"So we need to prevent White Night from happening, and simultaneously subjugate the Great Void of Dream within Dream. Both are devices sealing the person called Go Yuri."
"In the next cycle?"
"Yeah. In the next cycle."
Dok-seo looked at me.
"And this will be the old man's final regression."
"..."
"No more regressions. No more reincarnations. No more humans toyed with by anomalies, no more earth stained by Voids."
However, Dok-seo said.
"I'm hoping for an ending where Yuri and Yuir still remain as humans in that place where all Void poison has disappeared."
"..."
"You can do it, right, old man?"
"Subjugate the double-sided Great Voids left by the first and final Outer God within one minute."
"Yeah."
"Simple enough."
I smiled.
"I'll show you a senior's skill, Dok-seo."
Current point in time.
The 3,558th cycle.
The regressor embarked on the final regression.
-x-X-x-