Laugh Encyclopedia (4)
Long ago, there was a word in the theme song of some amusement park. "Fantasy land." I figured they used such a boastful term because it was packed with all sorts of rides and fun attractions. But the scene unfolding before my eyes? That was a true fantasy land. Why? Because all across the city, rides were exploding into existence alongside fireworks and balloons.
Waaaaah!! Subways weren't just bursting up from underground—they were spinning 360 degrees, going up and down like roller coasters. Screams and cheers mixed inside, and the windows were stained red with blood.
There were carousels too. Not with horses, but with cars impaled on metal poles, spinning endlessly at a rotary. Some had people skewered alongside the vehicles, writhing in agony; others were pierced vertically from the throat up, already dead.
Colorful balloons rose from below, climbing high enough to blow airplane engines. Some planes and helicopters got hit by fireworks and went down in flames. The countless buildings making up the city had entrances blackened and scorched, vomiting nothing but human screams.
It was ridiculous and horrific at the same time. And all this from a single entity. The problem? It wasn't just this city. Not just Korea—all countries, the entire Earth was like this.
"...Hmm."
Now that I was out here, I felt a bit lost on what to do next.
Can the Anomaly Management Bureau even handle this?
It felt like the WA Scenario the Pioneer Division Chief had mentioned. And considering her parting joke about laughter and such... the Bureau had probably already fallen. Plus, they knew my library's location, but I had no idea where theirs was.
So, first things first: assess the surroundings.
Scratch. Scratch.
I picked up my quill and began "writing" the situation through my ancient tome. Information flooded my mind in an instant, flowing out through my fingertips onto the pages.
[Goru Bookstore, Seoul City, coordinates XXX..., laughter virus, Anomaly Management Bureau Anomaly Pioneer Division...]
Among it all were things my normal senses couldn't detect—past events, hidden details. As the info filled the pages, the reality blurred by madness sharpened into focus. The corrupted surroundings gradually became recognizable, safe for me.
Scratch. Scratch.
"Yaaawn..."
This special ability to transcribe reality was great and all, but the sleepiness was a problem.
Guess it uses a lot of brainpower...
In limited spaces like the Deep Warehouse, it was manageable. But in an open area like this, endless expansion built up fatigue. Push it to rewriting reality entirely, and I'd collapse into sleep without the books' help.
Anyway, amid the chaotic city, my immediate surroundings stayed eerily quiet. Maybe that's why Jijong warned me of an approaching stranger.
"A stranger?"
Rustle. Rustle-rustle.
Something insignificant, infused with laughter's energy. Apparently, my changes to the area had drawn it here.
And soon, bicycle sounds echoed from afar.
Screeech. Screeech. SKREEEEEE!!
The harsh brake noise of a long-neglected bike.
Moments later, it emerged from the alley.
"Sob-haha-sob! Heh-heh-sob!"
A man pedaling a unicycle toward me, crying his eyes out. Utterly ordinary yet grotesque. Tears streamed from his eyes, but his mouth stretched to its limits in a grin. He pedaled furiously with both feet while juggling bowling pins with his hands. Straight out of a cartoon clown.
But his outfit? A regular office worker's suit.
Screeech. Screeech.
"Heeeugh! Heeeugh!!"
"A-Are you the one who made this area... boring!!"
Weird. Two voices from one mouth. One sobbed like it was gagged; the other questioned me in ecstatic glee.
Swish.
Not the main body.
Too victim-like for that. An innocent forced onto the unicycle, suffering.
"I'll ask again—!! The one who made this area boring and real again... was it you...!!"
"Yeah, that was me."
I answered flatly, quill already scratching away.
Scratch. Scratch.
[Clown Apprentice. Seoul native Park XX, from XX company, 29 years old...]
"Ooh! Oooh?!"
As his info filled the page, the gleeful voice spat out a shriek.
"You're prying into me now...!! Dangerous one, aren't you...!!"
Then kekekeke, it laughed—and the man's body began to swell.
...Familiar sight.
Scratch. Scratch.
His body ballooned like it might burst, but I stopped it. He stayed intact. Alive.
"Hahk...! Hahk...!!"
Quick writing saved him from death. But the physical strain made him tumble off the unicycle, vomiting blood with ragged breaths.
"Jijong, this is like what happened to me earlier."
Rustle. Rustle.
"He was a 'prop' too? So that thing possessed him?"
Rustle.
Affirmative from Jijong. The gleeful voice wasn't the man's—it was something else. When I started writing about it, it noticed and bailed fast. Routine over, prop discarded. But my writing spared his life.
"Hahk... Hahk... Th-Thank... you..."
"Jijong, it's too quick on its feet. What now?"
I stepped past the man on the ground, asking Jijong. He'd survive on his own now. I'd gotten the info; job done.
Rustle. Rustle.
"Hmm, like that... Ah, that guy just asked if I made the space boring and real."
Rustle.
"So he came to restore it? Like a... manager?"
... Rustle!!
Jijong rustled in massive praise. Genius! It hyped me up so much my shoulders nearly puffed.
"Then... if I alter the space again, another manager shows? Bigger scale, stronger one?"
That unicycle wasn't ordinary. Now discarded like the man, a prop—but before, it hummed with strange energy. And unicyclists weren't common around here. Symbolic of the manager, in a way.
"But rewriting reality like this... with all that laughter infesting Earth, it's too much. Need to thin it out or find another way..."
Rustle. Rustle-rustle.
"Huh? You'll help? How?"
Rustle. Rustle.
"...Churches, shaman houses, temples."
Jijong, being Earth Religions I, was tied to every faith. Major religions, personal gods via shamans—all sanctuaries to it.
"Nearby... yeah, not far."
Classic Korea, land of churches. Several within 100 meters. Garlic-loving folk even joked vampires couldn't enter.
I stepped into the nearest. Hymns echoed inside—but not normal ones. Upbeat tunes that forced dances, spreading joyously. One person danced endlessly despite a shattered spine, pain twisting their face.
Rustle...
"Hmm, don't get mad. I'll avenge you."
Jijong subtly fumed—its turf invaded. Someone dancing suddenly dropped to kneel in prayer... but irrelevant.
Inside, the pastor and congregation danced even wilder than outside, hands clasped in prayer. Blasphemous sight.
"Father Goooood!!"
I opened Jijong in my arms, reciting from a page.
"...Ye children of man, your Father hath come unto this place."
My voice was feeble next to the pastor's song. But it rang through the church—and the music cut off.
Suddenly, pastor and flock stared with lifeless eyes. At Jijong, specifically.
A shadow loomed over me.
"Ahh... Father!!"
"He hath descended. He hath descended. He hath descended."
Congregation trembled, arms wide like the shadow, praying to Jijong. The pastor, laced with mystic energy, foamed and collapsed harder.
Rustle.
"Huh? Yeah, got it."
I held Jijong to the pastor's face as instructed. Pages flipped flutterflutter, and his hand reverently took it.
"Ahh-. Ah... Ah.... Father hath descended upon me. He speaks."
Foam dripping, he rasped prophecies in near-death gasps.
"All my children, lose your minds."
At his words, the flock collapsed like puppets with cut strings.
Jijong puppeted the pastor to me.
The pastor dropped. Jijong toddled from his hand back to mine.
Rustle.
"Hmm, just knocked 'em out? No need to explain..."
Jijong pitied its exploited followers. They were still alive, after all.
"Anyway, let's try it now..."
I arranged the relics Jijong fetched, quill poised under a massive cross, and began "writing."
Scratch. Scratch.
......
BOOM!!
"Abi pedicatum!"
"Andre! I told you not to use that profanity!"
"What am I supposed to do? These lunatics keep coming!"
"Not that...! Wait! Hold on!"
"What?!"
"J-Just now...! Ahh...! God...! Just now, not far away—the Holy Spirit's power...!"
"What?! What does that mean?!"
"Andre! Forget finding the Pioneer Division Chief—head that way! Ab oriente salus erit…! Salvation from the east…!"
"Hey, Veronica!!"