Chapter 525
Chapter 525
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Vine
Chapter: +0
Chapter Title: Hereafter, All Has Been Paid (3)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
****
Sadly, the miracle of Bex's massive trove of records being fully transmitted to me didn't happen.
“Due to data corruption on this device, over 90% of the footage stored in [HappyTime.avi] has been lost—”
“This sucks....”
158 years is a long time—long enough for the era of the Opium Wars to transform into the 21st century.
It was time enough for recorded video data to scatter and vanish, and for over a century to pass since Bex, now in his seventies, had left behind stories of those who'd gone before him.
What remained of Bex's records were only the moments when he swapped new video chips into Corduro—mere scraps amounting to less than three hours total.
In the end, all that was left was a choppy three-minute snippet.
“I-I can't believe it.... If we'd known such precious footage was still inside Corduro, the Church would have secured and preserved it somehow. For it to vanish so pointlessly when it should have gone to you, Professor...”
“It's fine.”
But the story captured in that short clip didn't feel short to me at all.
『Th-this is your final moments, as seen from below.』
My death. How had it looked to others?
『You.... y-you died.... and became a star.』
In an instant, a blinding light like a supernova explosion engulfed the footage.
The sky cleared of light was embroidered with countless shooting stars, and the heat from the burning metal fragments was enough to blow away the thick sandstorm shrouding the wasteland sky.
The terrified people, who hadn't seen a clear night sky since the nuclear war, forgot even their fear.
Moonlight touched the ground for the first time in nine years, softly illuminating the night sky, and beneath it shone another small star with the sharp gleam unique to metal.
『N-no one could figure out what happened to you. All the astronomers could say was that at the moment the light burst forth, the satellite ring above your position unraveled, generating massive magnetic interference that knocked out every observation device on the surface. The new celestial body now orbiting Earth follows a much closer path than the Moon thanks to its small mass, rising and setting three times a day. It's on the boundary between natural and artificial satellite, but per the deceased's wishes, they've defined it as a 'star,' and named it Acreedor—Earth's second moon, meaning 'creditor.' That's all.』
『Dana says that star, which only pops up at awkward hours and vanishes quickly, looks just like you. Me too—』
Static crackle—
My story cut off there.
“So it's the origin story of the Holy Site.”
“....Holy Site?”
“Yes. Satellite Acreedor, the Creditor Star. It's the foundation of our Church's faith—the greatest miracle and proof of you, Professor Park, who watches over us, urges us on, and guides us to be better people.”
Lazerd's explanation, backed by the glossy star observation data proudly displayed throughout the exhibition hall where I now resided, supported Bex's words. Still, accepting it as fact required quite the stretch of imagination.
“You can see the Creditor Star rising around the drowsy time after meals if you go outside. Church members gaze at the Holy Site, which rises and sets three times a day, and reflect on whether they've lived the day faithfully.”
“I wanted to be remembered, but not like this....”
“Sadly, since you've already passed on, it's something that can't be undone now.”
From that day until now, for a full 158 years, people had been looking up at my corpse crossing the sky three times a day.
Professor Park's miracle had been left in a very real, highly visible form, permanently etched into Earth's orbit.
****
Static crackle—
『Jokasss. Deer Drug Please. Holy. Heung An Mandu. And old man Woojin.... We formed a little volunteer group.』
Next came stories of my friends.
「Damn it. That bastard spouted useless crap right before kicking the bucket, forcing me into retirement. With nothing to do but wait to die of old age, this is just killing time.」
Old man Woojin, his voice gruff, lifted his soot-covered welding mask with a sigh.
「It just.... felt burdensome doing nothing. I'm really nobody special. All I've ever done my whole life is live off my dad's money, wearing nice clothes and eating good food. I started wondering if I'm really worth someone like Professor Park pulling off miracles to save....」
Holy, now in work clothes learning from old man Woojin, looked dirtier than before but brighter too.
「It ain't no favor. That bastard Professor Park dumped a sneaky, nasty bomb on us.」
「The guy really left us a mountain of debt—just like he said!」
And Jokasss was straining to bend a steel beam in front of their small office.
「Burden. A life-debt burden like no other. That damn guy spread the load he'd carried his whole life across the whole world. Like, 'You try it too.'」
「We've been clinging to 'survival' so far, but now just breathing ain't enough anymore— that's it. Rotten bastard. Such a pain in the ass, hngh!」
Creak, groan—!
Finally succeeding in bending the steel beam, Jokasss patted it in satisfaction.
「....Because of that guy, we can't settle for just surviving anymore. At least if we become people worth that kind of desperate rescue, that Creditor Star sneaking up when we're lounging around won't feel so burdensome, right?」
「So we started doing stuff that helps others—not me, but someone else. Wandering around, we started picking up more folks like us. Got enough people for a volunteer group, registered with the Dome, started recruiting members, that kinda thing.」
Clunk!
Work done, old man Woojin and Holy wheeled out a massive panel on a cart.
[H.A.N.G.E.R.S]
[Volunteer Labor/Settlement Support/Pioneering Aid]
[We Must Get Better.]
It was a signboard—wasteland vibes oozing from welded scrap metal on sheet steel.
「Hangers. Fits us down here who were too useless, so the Professor had to go that far—we're the ones who hanged him up high. Might as well lean into the burden since we're stuck with it.」
「....We'll live well—better than that bastard could ever imagine. Pay off the debt that way. Bet you didn't know the people you saved could push this far.」
「....That oughta cover the interest too.」
Static crackle—
The friends' story ended there, but I could guess what Bex meant to record next without hearing it.
“Lazerd. This....”
“Yes, exactly. It's about 'First Pontiff Jokasss,' who valued honest living and sharing, and the 'Seven Apostles of Professor Park.'”
Volunteer group 'Hangers.' These were the ones who'd housed my data soul all this time in the 'Professor Park Museum'—the seed of what grew into the planet-spanning 'Hanger Church.'
Our Jokasss, the pureblood online human who spammed shit like 'Wanna fuck~' in the 47 District chat when bored, as head of the world's largest religious organization preaching goodness and the value of action?
“This is the end times....”
“The genesis. One you created.”
Lazerd gazed at me—denying reality—with eyes full of reverence.
“Ours isn't like the religious groups you imagine, Professor. It touches on faith, sure, but it's grounded in real events and the tangible Holy Site passing overhead every day. The Hanger Church reveres this-worldly life, not the afterlife.”
“....Really?”
“Yes. The teachings from Bex's video live on. Our faith centers on becoming more valuable through honest living. Diligence, integrity, sharing—it's no exaggeration to say those are the whole doctrine.”
Hm.
The 'religious group' label threw me for a sec, but listening closely, it sounded more like an ideological movement. Aiming to become better people? Not bad.
“Of course, it's not just manual labor—we value intellectual growth, culture, art. Our Church runs the most schools among Unified Government allies, invests in the most research altars, has the most orphanages and volunteer groups. All transparent, beyond reproach to you.”
Hm!
Diligent believers are productive ones, fat wallets mean fat donations. My Church knew how to spend endless cash like water—and spend it well.
And so, the wasteland stabilized at record speed as this highly productive, peaceful ideology spread like a plague, recovering and growing just as fast.
Seven years after Professor Park's death.
Using Gedroits's spaceship launch site and surviving data, the Dome launched its first manned spacecraft.
Gedroits hadn't lied. The server room held tech and theories beyond living humanity's wildest dreams, perfectly preserved—enough to revive a planet where half the year was near-freezing winter, in just seven years.
The Dome's first manned ship, 'Follower,' safely delivered humanity's new hope to the surface.
Static, buzz—
「Was he. Born to. Save the world.」
「Or did I. Make him that way.」
.
.
.
.
「Am I. Wrong. Again.」
「....I was. Narrow-minded....」
They recovered the frozen Raptor-Gedroits remains from the space habitat 'Next Space' next to the server room, securing brainwave data for potential security protocols—and as a bonus, extracted the memories lingering in his engram at the end.
=========
Static crackle—
「HQ. HQ. Follower here. Creditor Star dead ahead. Breaking through those insane odds to become an astronaut was worth it—this is the moment.」
「Sending this footage now as a gift to the Hanger Church, which gave me scholarships and training over the last seven years. Too bad we're mid-server data transfer and can't alter course, Latura. I wanted to reach the Holy Site and show Him we've made it this far.」
Static crackle—
「Focus on the mission, Follower. He'll know you're fulfilling His final duty and be greatly pleased.... Wait, hold up! Follower! Follower!」
Static crackle—
「What's wrong, HQ?」
「Camera! Zoom in on that last shot! I saw it! I saw it!」
「Matches the records! That alien sheen unique to metallic mutant skin! It was right there!」
=========
....And on the way, the camera caught something unexpected.
『The black box—it survived.』
『Professor, remember? After the Orpheus incident blew a hole in your chest that couldn't be repaired, they transplanted metallic mutant skin from another variant! Not your body, but a fully mutated individual's graft site! With the chest cavity open, they stuffed in comms gear, your rescued data soul storage, all sorts. It survived like a black box, lodged plain as day in the Creditor Star.』
“Oh. That.”
After debates in the footage about deviating course to land versus pressing on with the mission.
The screen showed thousands of Church members gathered at the launch site.
As 'Follower 2' landed, heat and dust blanketed everything.
The hatch opened, and the astronaut, helmet off, descended the stairs cradling a large secure case like a holy relic.
「I.... have retrieved it....」
As the astronaut tremblingly set it down and unlocked it, the crowd—crushing past civilian lines—bowed as one.
Static hiss—
“Not just you, but the near-ten-billion data souls inside were recovered too.”
“So that's how I ended up here....”
Quite the coincidence, then.
I'd thrown myself before Orpheus. To repair my chest, fully disintegrated by high-density waves, old man Woojin and Dome medics asked Ian for mutant skin compatible with my human-variant hybrid body. That cyborg-like open chest compartment, from a fully mutated other individual, escaped my final self-destruct intact, embedded amid the star's metal chunks—along with its perfectly preserved contents.
『Th-that's the big drama. After this.... just recorded everyday stuff I wanted you to see....』
What followed was truly mundane—sparkling slices of daily life.
Hanger Church zealots, flush with cash, chanting 'It's what He wanted!' while erecting a 30-meter 'True Metal-Jaw' metal statue.
To make up for Cynthia's low-key middle school entrance, they mobilized the Church's full wealth and clout for a city-festival welcome crowd, had Chancellor Young (hastily) send a honor guard parading from my old shelter to the high school gate, a 200-voice choir singing hymns—until beet-red Cynthia sprinted to school at record speed.
Records from outer settlements still plagued by mutants too—and shockingly, one featured Thousand Stream Emperor.
=========
「Y-you're alive....」
「Never died, so yeah.」
「B-but you're definitely on the deceased list....」
「How many connections do you think I have who need to know I'm alive? Just living life.」
「....Bex. You're in a state too ambiguous to call 'alive.'」
=========
Thousand Stream Emperor—looking like he'd added thirty more massive scars since last time—tossed scrap into a portable electric furnace, unchanged as ever.
=========
「Don't rush it.」
「....Huh?」
「The past finds you without chasing. Just stay alive till then.」
「And stubborn bastards like you always survive. Like how the Creditor Star's owner only ended his tenacious life after shedding every last regret.」
「You'll outlive us all, probably.」
「....」
=========
Clang—clang—
Thousand Stream Emperor's footage faded with the hammering.
The final clip started at a small hospital room entrance.
『Bex. You came.』
『....Miss Dana.』
『Seriously. How old are we, and you still call me that.』
Cough cough! Wheeze.
Dana, pale and bedridden.
Bex with the camera and Dana chatted about Sia entering high school, Cynthia finally dragging aging Chancellor Young from his office to claim the throne, rebranding the local 'Dome' as 'Unified Government' to expand globally, stories from old man Woojin's funeral, etc.
『You haven't been to the museum once since the Professor's data soul returned, huh?』
『....Well.』
『The world. How'd a pure soul like you end up with a rabbit like me.』
『Don't you regret it, Miss Dana? Letting the Professor leave 47 District back then, knowing he'd shoulder it all alone and overdo it?』
As his tea went cold, Bex finally broached me.
『All my life, since that day, tons of people asked that, and I always gave the same answer: No regrets. Loved him for who he was. Told Cynthia that, Sia too.』
『....But to you, Bex, I regretted it plenty.』
Middle-aged yet retaining poignant beauty amid illness, Dana wept silently.
『I know. If he hadn't gone, not just him—you, me, all of us would be ashes. But Bex, women think irrationally sometimes, you know?』
『If I'd been greedier then. Even if we'd all met our end together, wouldn't our cherished memories have a few more days? Or if we'd ended together, would I be left alone, hoarding these memories to grieve forever? Regretted it a ton.』
Her words carried a familiar air. The vibe of someone at the end, finally setting down a lifetime's burden.
『But that regret's just a tiny sliver of my life. Cynthia didn't respect the Professor as a dad, but idolized him. Said the satellite shower was just blocking fireballs—the real miracle was one man's words and actions swaying the whole world. Wants to be that kind of influence herself. That's how Cynthia started down the leader path.』
『Sia.... Oh, should've mentioned. Bex, you showed her Thousand Stream Emperor's footage, right?』
『Y-yeah, somehow....』
Sigh.
『Barely talked her out of military training. This time she triggered a chem-bio alarm with a pet heater to escape. Blood will out, huh.』
『Y-yeah... B-but Miss Dana, you're....』
『Leave her be. When she really needs to, Cynthia'll drag her back.』
'Really needs to' probably meant when her health tanked.
『Cynthia and Sia—raised 'em healthy, chasing their dreams. I've paid my debt to him. Sounds boastful, but wrangling those wild colts alone was hell.』
『Next time we meet, I can thank him for saving us back then. If we'd been a bit less clumsy, a bit bolder, things might've changed....』
『What can you do. That's how people like us love.』
And the screen faded.
****