Chapter 144
Chapter 144
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 144
Chapter Title: The Lucky One VI
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Shin Noah
9
Though there's no paradise in the place one flees to, Saipan's scenery was beautiful like paradise.
A transparent jade-green sea. Beach sand grains softly wrapping around the soles of the feet.
No Do-ha muttered.
“The sunlight is too intense…”
“Indeed. It's a bit excessively beautiful.”
That was our first impression.
For the record, I was dressed like a cafe barista. No Do-ha was in a casual t-shirt with a white coat draped over it. The white doctor's gown fluttered in the sea breeze.
In short, it was fashion that actively denied this place being a world-class resort.
Saipan probably didn't want to accept tourists like us if it could help it.
“This scenery doesn't suit me at all, the undertaker who now has to stew misfortune down to the bone marrow from here on out.”
“Now that you put it that way, I'm getting anxious again…”
More.
I had to become even more unfortunate.
Thus, I resolved to personally remodel the island's scenery.
Let me digress for a moment. In a post-apocalyptic world stained with voids, 'formal beauty' is more important than anything.
Stories with a perfect setup, twist, climax, and resolution. Cliches like muttering 'What a unfamiliar ceiling' upon waking up.
Those are a kind of form. Grammar.
And depending on what grammar or worldview you adopt, anomalies react differently.
In other words, even after arriving at the resort…
'Whoa! Summer! Beach! Ocean-!'
If you shout that, strip off your outer clothes, and charge at the waves, you'll have a high chance of encountering anomalies based on 'Japanese manga.'
It's basically the same as high schoolers chanting 'Bunshin Saba- Bunshin Saba-' in the dark at night.
In the post-apocalypse, a single action or word from a person has the effect of summoning all sorts of anomalies.
“No Do-ha, Workshop Master. From now on, I will excerpt and read from Osamu Dazai's novel [Late Years].”
“Huh…?”
“You've heard of [No Longer Human]? The author who wrote that.”
I carried No Do-ha on my back and took her to the coastal cliff.
Splash. No Do-ha got off at the cliff's edge and shoved both hands into her white coat pockets.
“Hmm. And the reason for holding a cheap recitation right after arriving in Saipan is…?”
“A civil servant who didn't study world history properly, eh? No Do-ha, Workshop Master. This Saipan was originally one of the areas where the Japanese army was defeated by the U.S. military during the Pacific War. It has a painful history where many civilians were caught up and died.”
“Huh? So what?”
“The coastal cliff we're standing on right now is exactly where the Imperial Japanese Army put on their talent show.”
“Talent show…?”
If you pick two specialties of the old Imperial Japanese Army, they were of course declarations of war and mass suicide.
The second specialty was fully displayed at the northernmost tip of Saipan Island.
“The cliff's name is killer. Banzai Cliff. Legend has it that as many as 10,000 soldiers shouted 'Banzai!' and showed disciplined dives off the cliff.”
“No. So, what am I supposed to do about it…?”
“And if you name Japan's most famous diving suicide case, you can't leave out Osamu Dazai.”
I pulled out an empty notebook.
“Watch closely, Workshop Master. This is the textbook way to summon anomalies.”
The clear voice of the impromptu recitation on the cliff rode the waves and echoed.
“Ahh. On the full moon evening. Flickering and collapsing, surging and shattering, in the waves convulsing in frenzy, unable to endure the hands clinging so as not to be separated, when I deliberately shook them off, the woman was instantly swept into the waves and cried out someone's name high into the air. It wasn't my name—.”
Whoosh.
The waves crashed.
At that moment.
-Tenno Heika Banzai!
Splash!
A shadowy human figure passed by us and dove straight off the cliff.
Impressive form. A shame his profession was soldier instead of Olympic athlete, preventing him from showing off his skills in life.
“What the fuck…?”
No Do-ha jumped in surprise.
Of course she did. Shadows that hadn't existed moments ago suddenly appeared behind us.
-Tenno Heika Banzai!
-Dai Nippon Teikoku Banzai!
-Banzaaaaaai!
Splash-splash!
Fortunately, no Olympics but there was a marathon. Thousands of shadowy humans started at once and charged toward the horizon.
The shadow humans had no physical form. They passed through our shoulders, sometimes right through our torsos, rushing out one after another.
Mysteriously, despite lacking physical substance, they vividly recreated the 'effect of falling into the waves.'
Splash-splash. The human-made waves were triumphing in real time over the natural ones.
Yes. The Imperial Japanese Army's true eternal enemy was never the U.S. military, but 'nature' itself.
Nature included not just environments like jungles or seas, but human nature as well. The Imperial Army hadn't been defeated—they had won.
“Fuck. What the hell is this…?”
“Like human affairs, summoning anomalies also follows the mysteries of heaven, earth, and man.”
I chuckled emptily like the Sword Marquis.
“The Japanese notion of mass suicide is heaven, this land where the Imperial Japanese Army committed group suicide is earth, and here Osamu Dazai, the icon of diving suicide, is man. Oh, perfect harmony. With the three conditions aligning so exquisitely, how could anomalies not obey the incantation?”
“…I'm asking seriously, Undertaker Awakener. Aren't you already the big boss of anomalies? Huh? What human summons anomalies like this, willy-nilly…?”
“Ahem. Call me Grand Sorcerer, please.”
“Bullshit, you lunatic…”
In fact, Osamu Dazai had a record of joining the anti-imperialist student federation as a left-winger, but what did it matter.
Unless it was the Tutorial Fairy, anomalies had little interest in humans' political leanings.
Ah, of course, the 'Central Intelligence Agency' void residing on Seoul's Namsan was extremely interested in human ideologies, but we'll talk about that next episode.
“If you're still suspicious, you read the incantation next time, No Do-ha Workshop Master.”
“Next…?”
“Yes. Besides Banzai Cliff, there's Suicide Cliff, and other places that encouraged mass suicides.”
“No, fuck, wasn't this just a resort…? Hey. You came here on purpose for this shit, right? Huh? You wanna die for real?”
At the next spot, No Do-ha recited the incantation as I instructed.
Sure enough, 'shadow humans' appeared.
It was a low-level spell like one only Dang Seo-rin knew how to use.
A true grand wizard designs the magic system so anyone chanting 'fireball' generates an 800-degree Celsius flame orb.
No Do-ha, who had just enrolled in my magic tower, muttered in bewilderment like a student casting Wingardium Leviosa for the first time in her life.
“It actually works…?”
“If you match the heaven-earth-man conditions, pretty much anyone can do it. That's what攻略 guides are for. Why else would I claim to be an anomaly expert?”
“Undertaker Awakener. What are those shadows exactly? Human souls…?”
“Ah, probably not. They're just crude existences made of people's sloppy memories and illusions. Shadows, literally. To add more complete substance to them, you'd need an incantation from someone who actually experienced the Pacific War.”
“…”
“Look closely at them charging in a group shouting Banzai. No details. If real, there'd be those pushed off, those attempting seppuku, those forced to sacrifice— all with varied faces and poses.”
That day, I wandered with No Do-ha, resurrecting 'unhappy memories' across the entire area.
Boom!
Cannon fire shook the beach. Sound only. Not a single warship or fishing boat on the sea.
Fighter engine noises oddly echoed from the sky.
Children's cries came from somewhere. The cries had no nationality.
The 'Battle of Saipan' hadn't ended.
The number of shadows jumping from cliffs showed no sign of decreasing. The insubstantial shadows died and killed eternally in hellish limbo.
Voids were inherently like that.
“…”
No Do-ha glanced toward the cliffs while crafting my prosthetic in her spare time.
As mentioned before, I lost my left leg during an escape from Busan.
No Do-ha was making a prosthetic from roughly gathered wood nearby.
“Ah, Workshop Master. Tighten that screw a bit more there. That suits me better.”
“…”
This wasn't the first time No Do-ha had made my limbs over 590 regressions, so I assisted her appropriately.
Normally she'd snap 'Then make it yourself,' but for some reason, she was quiet during this work.
As if immersed in deep contemplation.
“What a bizarre world…”
Kneeling on one knee to fit my left foot prosthetic, No Do-ha finally murmured softly.
“Humans clumsily try to forget, anomalies clumsily try to remember.”
No Do-ha turned to me. Slowly.
“And you're a bizarre human too…”
10
The bizarre 'vacation' continued.
Now, I received contempt and hatred from my beloved comrades all at once, waking each dawn to screams and cries.
'Is this unfortunate enough yet?'
At least to me, this misfortune felt heavier than the luck from 'the Sword Marquis's rejuvenation' or 'the aliens' Great Wall.'
Those were 'nice to have, oh well if not' luck.
Even without the Sword Marquis or aliens, I knew how to hold the front lines my way.
-Ukikik!
The Monkey's Paw seemed to judge the same.
If there are social butterflies in the world, there are social outcasts too—someone always tries to balance it.
The Monkey's Paw, governing the scales of fortune and misfortune, felt threatened. It started pouring out luck more blatantly.
“Undertaker Awakener. Did you bring the Sword Marquis here by any chance…?”
“Huh? No.”
“I went out this morning and bananas were hanging all over in front of the house…”
Food popped up even when idle.
The weather was perfect first. The sea held emerald hues, shadows from trees gleamed sapphire.
An environment that made you want to don a swimsuit and jump in.
-Boom!
In that environment, the cannon fire remained majestic.
The shadows diving from cliffs were thriving too. The overly sunny weather made them look like real divers now.
No Do-ha remarked.
“Fucking surreal scenery…”
Indeed.
The misfortune I created and the luck the Monkey's Paw generated had begun clashing in earnest.
My chest swelled. The rivalry between Luck's Naruto and Misfortune's Sasuke grew fiercer by the day.
One day, as I strolled the beach and found Cheon Yo-hwa collapsed face-down in the sand, the rivalry peaked.
“…Huh. Yo-hwa?”
“T-T…eacher…”
Grab.
Cheon Yo-hwa clutched my hand.
“S-Sorry. A while ago, I came back to my senses. But I… Ugh! What on earth did I do to you, Teacher…!”
Cheon Yo-hwa teared up. Her orange hair whipped in the sea wind, sand pebbles on her cheeks.
“I had to apologize to you, so I came searching alone… I thought I'd die when my stomach flipped, but I'm alive. Alive, and able to see you—thank goodness… Heavens. Your legs, why are they like that? Ah. Because of us…? Ugh. Sorry, Teacher. My fault. Please forgive me…”
I shuddered.
'Is this how you come at me, Monkey's Paw!'
As I well knew, I forcibly unpacked a tragic wreck via the hatred drug.
That was my 'general.'
Then the Monkey's Paw cried 'soldier.'
Where's the tastiest part in a tragic wreck?
No need to say. The scene where side characters who hated and despised the protagonist realize he did nothing wrong, regret their mistakes…!
[I misunderstood the protagonist] [It's my fault] [I was ethically wrong, protagonist was flawless] [So I must apologize and make amends]—such insidious self-realization…!
Yes. The Monkey's Paw was trying to feed me 'catharsis' per tragic wreck grammar.
“Yo-hwa.”
“Yes…?”
“It's okay.”
The Monkey's Paw came this way, so my response was set.
I smiled with boundless benevolence.
“Of course I forgive you.”
“…!”
Yes.
The catharsis the Monkey's Paw wanted was probably the protagonist here shoving off the hand: [Too late] [You had countless chances but kicked them all away] [Apologizing now changes nothing].
Thus, protagonist becomes happy, others unhappy. Tragic wreck cliche.
But.
“No, you had nothing to be forgiven for in the first place. Teacher was never once disappointed in you.”
“Teaaacher…!”
My chosen strategy: the 'forgiving' protagonist!
No matter if they cut my legs or not, forgive unconditionally. Even if they posted curses about me on Undertaker Backtalk Net (renamed from SG Net), accept it all.
Not granting even a drop of catharsis.
That was the divine move against the Monkey's Paw's scheme.
-Ukikik, hic, kikikik.
The Monkey's Paw's schemes were meaningless from the start anyway.
Like Cheon Yo-hwa before me, my comrades being 'dominated by the Monkey's Paw anomaly without even realizing it' was bone-deep misfortune for me.
'Wasn't I the one who put my comrades in danger while testing the Monkey's Paw anyway?'
All disasters I brought on myself—how could I blame others?
If anyone needed forgiveness later, it was me.
I took Cheon Yo-hwa back to the Korean Peninsula, donated my right leg to Busan's Awakeners on the way, and returned.
This time, deliberately to Dang Seo-rin.
After cutting off my right foot, she muttered “Tch, aimed for the heart…” and tossed my leg away—that was the highlight.
-Kikikikihic, uk, ukikikik!
The Monkey's Paw convulsed at my carefully selected 'sweet potato' plot.
Dinosaurs perfect for barbecue appeared showing off, Inunaki Tunnel was remodeled connecting all Korean cities—it tried every means to shower me with luck and happiness.
So next, I donated my left arm to the Saintess, right arm to Lee Ha-yul.
Undertaker Daruma doll complete.
-Kikikikikikikikihihic hic!
I felt the Monkey's Paw foaming in mid-air. Choked on sweet potato, passed out.
No Do-ha foamed too.
“You really are… No. Forget it. Yeah. It's you, so you must have a plan. No, don't explain. As long as you come back with stumps, I'll make the limbs somehow, so just shut up… Huh? Smiling? You find this funny…?”
Left foot. Right foot. Left arm. Right arm.
My body, suddenly genre-shifted to limb-severance, was plastered with No Do-ha's special prosthetics.
The fight between the Monkey's Paw desperate to gift luck and me desperate to deliver misfortune was chest-swelling just to watch, but like all battles, this had a time limit too.
Year 10.
'It's finally here.'
The curtain of the 590th regression approached.
The moment of the time limit I'd set for the Monkey's Paw had arrived.
And exactly that day.
First, the Japanese archipelago lightly perished.
11
Waking in the beach hut, No Do-ha and I looked out the window and immediately knew the Japanese archipelago had fallen.
“…Undertaker Awakener. That.”
“Yes. I see it too.”
In novels where a Korean is protagonist, the Japanese archipelago's fate is always grim.
Of course, nationality and race mean nothing to me.
Once lifespan hits four digits, one's values change in many ways. Even worldview.
Manyeo Temple, Phantom Sword, Uehara Shino.
The 'Grand Shrine Maiden,' chairwoman of the Magical Girl Council and No. 1 seat, whom I haven't mentioned yet and wish never to.
They were all precious comrades.
I knew well what lives they'd lived and where they headed.
In this era of fallen nations and collapsed governments, volunteer soldiers rising from bare ground to save those around them.
-We declare this land a cliche zone overflowing with hope from magical girl stories!
-Killing demons isn't solemn tragedy but light laughter! Tragedy doesn't suit us! Everyone, smile!
The Magical Girl Council formed under that purpose.
But there are two kinds of magical girl stories.
One: comrades triumph justice together. Orthodox faction.
Two: watch magical girls fall into despair and get shredded. Demonic cult.
Japan's archipelago hosted orthodox-demonic wars daily.
Sadly for the magical girls, this world's genre was always villainous from the start.
“What the hell is that…?”
Red flesh lump.
On the horizon greedily drinking morning sunlight, suddenly, a massive red flesh tower rose.
North from Saipan. Direction of the Japanese archipelago.
The distance to Tokyo was a whopping about 2,400 km.
Leaping that distance, even visible beyond the horizon, the red flesh tower displayed its majesty.
I muttered.
“It's Go Yo-ri.”