Chapter 526
Chapter 526
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: +0
Chapter Title: Hereafter, All Debts Paid (4)
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“....Professor.”
“Professor!”
“Huh? Oh.”
“You’re gripping the screen too tightly. Corduro is a drone that’s long outlived its lifespan.”
Only after Rajerd spoke did I realize I’d been clenching my hand harder than necessary.
Vex was walking through the cemetery, holding flowers. People still vivid in my memory—even now, if I stepped out of this stuffy museum, it felt like the dusty streets of Sector 47 and the smell of oil would assault me—but reality shone down on their gravestones.
Old man Woojin. Jokasss and Deer Drug Please. Holy and Ezel. Dana. And even the flowers tied to the lantern sent skyward for Heung An Mandu, whose ashes were scattered high in the heavens per his last wishes.
After cleaning and tidying each grave in turn, Vex headed straight for the Hangar Cult headquarters.
In the dead of night, he pulled out a small shovel and a not-so-small bomb, a smile on his face like he’d returned to his youth.
KABOOM!
And with the explosion, we returned to the point where Vex had first appeared.
『Th-the prepared footage... that’s, uh, all of it. Just like Thousand Stream Emperor said, I really outlived everyone. They all... left without any regrets.』
Hooo—
Vex’s hand trembled as he held the cigar.
『Everyone lived so hard. R-really hard. So as not to shame you, so as not to waste the life you gave us.』
『I... d-didn’t live as well as others. It wasn’t great after you all left. Really, really not great.』
『So, I thought I had to give you something, that’s why I picked up the camera. I didn’t know how to live a shining life like others, so I figured I’d at least pass on their news to you. Maybe that way I could repay a little... I collected records thinking that, but every time I tried to go, my f-feet wouldn’t move, you know? Everyone lived so well, what have you done, Vex? What if they asked that. What if I disappointed you all, that scared me so much I couldn’t come until now.』
『....Then, this morning, I filmed something.』
The gloomy old Vex hurriedly added a new data chip, as if making excuses.
Unlike before, the sky was transparently blue, adorned with a hazy moon and a tiny star twinkling brightly against a cloudless expanse.
A bustling outdoor restaurant. Vex was eating a soft soup alone.
-Pop!
The sudden whoosh made the dazed old man’s eyes snap into those of a soldier who’d danced with death.
Crash! Shatter!
With the whoosh, an overturned table shielded Vex’s body, his hand gripping a knife and broken dish, old tendons writhing as if ready to charge the enemy at any moment.
And then, Vex saw it.
In the corner of the restaurant, an old man about his age, panting for breath behind his own overturned table.
Middle-aged and young adults were visibly on guard but only stood from their seats. The even younger kids out for family dinners with their parents—
“Mommy! Balloon! Balloon!”
....weren’t startled or tense at all.
『That was just... a car tire bursting nearby.』
『After seeing that this morning, I thought I could finally come find you all, so I rushed here.』
『....Hapbun, are you watching? D-do you know what this m-means...?』
Vex was crying. Tears streamed down his wrinkled face unchecked, endlessly.
『The kids... they don’t know... gunshots.』
『They really don’t. To those kids, a popping sound is just a birthday party balloon bursting, a slicing sound is just Mom prepping fish... ugh, sob!』
『We... we did it. We... p-paid off the debt you left us, all of it... aaah, uwaaaah, heuhuhu....』
It was the moment seventy-year-old Vex finally set down the burden he’d carried his whole life.
『I... I was so sad. You did everything you could, but got to enjoy nothing. You lived harder than anyone, my friend Hapbun, and I couldn’t bear watching you vanish without receiving anything....』
Thud.
『I wanted to prove it. That what you did was right, that it wasn’t in vain, so I proved it with the lives of those who survived. That way, I could give something back to you, to you, Hapbun... heuhuhu, ahihihi....』
Collapsed, Vex pressed his forehead against the machine holding my data soul and wept endlessly.
『Thank you. For doing so much for us, thank you so much.』
『Now, finally, I can say it. Like the others, I can proudly tell you thank you, I’m grateful.... Luckily, before I die....』
『Sorry for coming so late.... Professor, Ian, everyone....』
The old man, having shed all his burdens, fell asleep before me amid his tears.
.
.
.
.
“[Happytime.avi] has ended—aaah—”
“....Vex. That old man who gave you this footage....”
“Death confirmed at the time of footage end—aaah— Remains interred in the cult cemetery next to the BDSM special exhibit.”
“....Yeah. Guess I’ll have to pay a visit.”
And so, my story ended.
My life ended, and the stories of everyone connected to me drew to a close as well.
How do I describe this feeling? This emptiness now that everything I left behind has reached its conclusion—what words can capture it?
“Latura.... I can’t presume to empathize with how harsh it is to face such voided time....”
[An-ancestor. You... okay? Ugh, even I’m tearing up, so pathetic.]
Rajerd and Parku approached to comfort me, but I waved them off. No one can comfort this. After 158 years post-death, hearing that everyone I knew is gone—who could empathize?
“How could we inflict such pain on the Professor....”
....P. Puhahaha.
Pain? Yeah, it hurts. Dana, too clumsy to love properly; friends who carried my death in their hearts lifelong; a daughter I never held; foster daughters I failed as a father; old man Woojin I saw as a father; Ian who went ahead of me. This pain of all vanishing is exactly what I sacrificed my life to avert.
“Hahaha, kehahaha, kickick, hehe, hngh!”
“....P-Professor?”
But amid the streaming tears, what burst from deep in my chest was,
“Oh, you fools.... really....”
.
.
.
“You really paid it all off! I tried to bury it forever, but you cleared every last bit! Hahahahaha! Uhahahaha—coughcough! Kehk! Hehehe, hahahahahaha!”
Joy and fulfillment overflowed from head to toe, bursting out.
My feat, begun with my death, completed through everyone’s lives, delivered via Vex.
“I really saved them all.”
All of them. Not a few, not hundreds—but everyone in the world I lived in.
For someone plagued by OCD-like disorders, it was a realm I thought unreachable in a lifetime.
Perfectly. So tight no needle could slip through, such that even Gedroits—with his Professor Park-recognized intellect—couldn’t hypothesize alternatives this time!
“My World, cleared....”
....Saved. Everything.
The thirst unquenched since my parents’ deaths was finally sated.
“Rajerd, my successor! Listen up? I saved them! Perfectly, no room for doubt or objection! I led you all to the next world with these hands!”
“Yes, that’s most righteo—(urk!)—couldn’t be more—(ugh!)—true—!”
“Hey! Take me too! Space shuttle! I wanna visit Professor Park’s star!”
“Yes, yes! Once the cult stabilizes, we’ll surely—urk!”
This joy, reduced to shaking the shoulders of brand-new Professor devotees—it’s criminal. Vex, Ian, Dana! Friends! Why’d you die so early! We should’ve shared this moment—hell, I’d deserve a halo now! Just a bit longer, another century!
Sniiiiif—
Hooo.
....Clink!
After my mad bout, I returned to my sharp, intellectual, mildly relaxed state and picked up the item displayed as ‘Cigar the Professor enjoyed in life’ from the adjacent shelf.
“Th-that’s an irreplaceable treasure now, vital for depicting Professor Park’s history....”
“That history’s unfolding live right now, so what’s the issue. Need more? I’ll smoke a few packs. In a century, that’ll be worth more.”
“Most righteous!”
Sniiiif—
Hooo.
[I don’t smoke.]
‘Good. Booze and smokes are learned from adults. No adult like me in this world.’
[Fuck off.]
Ah, delicious smoke. A thousand times tastier than post-bath. So refreshing, so grateful. Leaving such a miraculous moment in my long-finished life.
“....You rascals. Do that much, and I can’t just leave without a kiss.”
[What’re you on about?]
“Not helping as a side gig—I’ll pour my heart into it now.”
Crack, crack, creak!
Smoked the cigar to the filter, then stretched to loosen my frail descendant’s weak body. Joints and flexibility shot. Vex would’ve tied him with rope and yanked.
“Corduro. You still there?”
“Did you enjoyyy—?”
“Yeah. More than your tiny brain can imagine—pure lifetime bliss.”
“If you liked this AI’s service, please leave a review on the Gedroits Company homepage—”
“Yeah yeah. Once done, my first official divine decree: ‘Leave a glowing review praising Corduro on the Gedroits Company homepage.’”
“Alwayyyys providing perfect service, GC Housing Droooone—....”
The droning voice, starting to slur, cut off midway.
“....Hey.”
“Be honest. Back in the shelter days. All that Happytime crap. That was bullshit too, right?”
Probably to keep me alive. An AI’s desperate measure to save its self-destructing master. Modeled on learned owner behavior, per programming.
Deception, bluffing. That’s our style.
“Before you clock out, hand over facility admin rights.”
“Brainwave, data, match. Transferring ‘Home’ admin rights to owner—aaah—”
Set on the side device, the faintly blinking light went dark.
“....Loyal little guy.”
If Corduro’s persona is just learned data, how explain preserving Vex’s footage amid its own degradation? Or me—a mere copy of dead ‘Professor Park’s’ data—pondering this? Am I even a data soul?
“They say when people die, drones who went first come greet them. I love that story.”
[....That’s for pets, right?]
“As one who’s seen it—think there’s a difference?”
[....No.]
Amid Parku’s blank stare and my nonsense, the alert came: full admin rights to ‘Professor Park Museum’ transferred.
Time to prep for exit.
Clink! Clink!
“Taking these, oh, and this. Bill the cult for glass.”
“Ooh, Lord. Th-those are incomparable to that cigar just now—”
“They were mine originally.”
Shed Parku’s garish neon leather jacket, donned my museum-displayed clothes. Size off, but skin-familiar.
Rrrumble—thud!
-Partition opening. Exhibit Room 3. Ian Desmond Ashfield Metaljaw Special Exhibit.-
“Vex’ll be jealous. He bunked in BDSM.”
Fragment grenade. Magnetic bomb. This—acid Cremor? Obviously taking.
“I paid for this—why’s it here.”
Clink!
Double-barrel shotgun, naturally. Ah, gun case. Perfect.
Rrrumble—thud!
-Partition opening. Exhibit Room 2. BDSM Special Exhibit-
“Ah, Vex! Hey, got your footage! Good boy! Always loved small stuff, nailed it with that tiny chip! Thanks!”
Varied firearms galore, but only one to grab.
Tattered cloak in the corner—multipocketed, Vex’s ammo holder. Mine now.
Rrrumble—thud!
-Partition opening. Exhibit Room 1. The Great Creditor of the Second Life, Professor Park’s Life-
-Warning! Traces of external forced intrusion detected. Area sealed.-
“Professor Park’s life.... Ah, the outfit I gifted Dana?”
Nostalgic items aplenty, but no time amid laser ozone stench.
[Y-you’re going out armed like that? For real?]
“Why not.”
[Why not?! These antiques won’t scratch a Zeta-class combat drone, let alone killer bots! No! Give me the body! Partitions open—just escape—]
“Escape, and leave Rajerd and grubby refugees as human oil fodder?”
[That’s....]
“So, us modern folks with top gear—block a Gedroits satellite-class disaster?”
[No....]
“Can’t? I did it barehanded.”
Fool. Doesn’t know what he’s awakened.
“Ah, here.”
Clink!
Worried it’d be gone, but cult managed well.
[....Gas mask?]
“My talisman.”
Last, strapped father’s memento—origin of it all—to my waist.
Rrrumble—thud!
-Outer wall opening. Warning. Portion of outer wall damaged.-
-Warning! Hostile action detected against this facility!-
Thud. Thud-thud! Thud!!
“What’s this, a military base? Why’s a religious site fortified—”
[Built by wasteland gen.]
“Ah. Right.”
Drdrdrdr—
“By the way. Why’s your name Parku?”
[....Picking a fight?]
“My descendant. But Middle Eastern name? Adopted? Cuckoo?”
[What’re you—! Obviously phonetic, duh! Who keeps East Asian names? Park Yoo! Tip you! Flow (流) Yoo for Park Yoo! Phonetic: Par’k-u!]
“Ooooh. Future culture. Park Yoo. Park Yoo. Pakyu. Pakyu....”
[Stop.]
“Fuckyou. Nice name. Better to give than receive shit.”
[I said stop!]
Kekekeke. Cute rascal.
-Thoom!
Layered outer walls finally rose.
“Ooooh. Future city.”
[You’ll spin for real.]
Truly, no wasteland.
Skyscrapers lined up—half ablaze, but evocative of old towers.
Marble floors studded with displays blaring my history in holograms; flags everywhere bore a noose-embraced star emblem.
Star and noose. Fitting—Jesus on cross, Professor Park hanged to sky. Tradition.
“And that in the sky’s probably the ‘Creditor Star.’”
First-time world: two moons. Tradition too.
“Then—”
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
“P-please, spare me! Please!”
A damsel in distress. Tradition borders on classic.
“....Ptoo! Even gearing up, picks outdated junk—idiot!”
Of course, the woman who eyed my outfit coldly and fled inside wasn’t traditional. Adventure trope—fine.
“Classic hero’s tough.”
[Shut up! The guy she dragged’s coming!]
Thud! Thud! Screeech-thud!
As I watched, the distant approacher rounded the corner. Massive frame, efficient curved armor, twin intake arms, octopedal gait.
“O. Sick. Full auto combat robot.”
[Damn! Police! Combat model! Fastest type!]
[Now what!]
.
.
.
.
Drip. Drip. Creak. Creak!
....Hiss!
“What else. Same old gig.”
[Same... old?]
“Yeah. Did it like eating.”
Police. Near-era standard combat gear. Perfect.
“Met the faithful debtors—time for deadbeats, right?”
Second machine revolution. Twice means mastermind likely. Bet he squandered my gifted extra life—
Click!
“I’ll personally wield the staff to judge.”
[Damn! I-I’ll hack somehow.... Uuuugh! Just survive! Please!]
“Hehehe. We’ll see.”
[?!]
Cute. Reacts well to pokes now.
So different from past hosts—another life felt viscerally.
Hyde gone.
Dana, Ian, Vex, friends gone.
Professor Park remembered, but no one remembers ‘me.’
Even this body ain’t mine.
“....Perfect.”
A lazy leisure settled in. What was it... perfect word....
[C-coming!]
KABOOM!
Red lens screaming hostility—the combat machine appeared. My hand caressed friends’ gear, and the word slipped out naturally.
Ah, right. This.
“New Game Plus, friends.”
.
.
.
.
[We’re all dead.]
Whiiiirrr—!
Bang!
Muzzle flash, laser heat, frail screams, my laughter—all mixed.
....Yeah. What happens happens. If world-ending mess awaits wherever Professor Park wakes, some higher-up’s design.
“—Screw it, I’ll smash it on time attack!!”
I’ll handle it. Anytime, anywhere.
No hesitation in charging the bloodthirsty metal heap.
Fearless now. World, self, nothing.
Freedom. Pure, inexpressible.
Not from releasing life—but fulfillment beyond excess yielding pure liberty.
“Die, ya! Skynet!”
[Uwaaaah! Ancestor, save us!!!]
“Saving ya! All of ya, included!”
[Uwaaaaaah—!!!!]
That was Vex’s delivered reward: my World Clear.
Bang—!
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Shouting Clear at the End of the World (Complete)
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