Chapter 147
Chapter 147
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 147
Chapter Title: Godslayer II
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Shin Noah
3
Long ago, there was a Russian-born dirt-poor med student by the name of Anton Chekhov.
Russia was a bizarre frozen wasteland back then, just as it is today, radiating some strange magnetic pull. The Homo sapiens of that land possessed DNA that made their writing skills explode in direct proportion to their misery.
Chekhov kicked the bucket at 44 from an incurable disease.
Armed with the unholy trinity of "Russia," "dirt-poor," and "incurable disease," Chekhov traded his lifespan for terrifying literary prowess. It was as if every evil spirit in Russia had whispered in his ear to become a writer.
Having ascended to the ranks of great authors through unprecedented black magic, Chekhov declared:
"If you hang a gun on the wall in the first act of a play, it must go off by the final act. If it isn't going to fire—don't hang it there in the first place."
This became known as "Chekhov's gun."
Chekhov probably meant something along the lines of, "So use your foreshadowing properly, you hack writers."
But like all black magic, Chekhov's incantation unintentionally unleashed a backlash.
For the record, Chekhov was active in Siberia as well, and the anomaly cluster that spawned around there was infamous for blanketing the Korean Peninsula every winter.
Even a grand sorcerer can't escape the whims of weather. Chekhov's black magic rode the winds and made landfall on the Korean Peninsula.
Let me give you a concrete example.
"Hey? Oppa, look at this! It's a gun! A gun!"
"Oh. Looks like the military dropped it. Good job! We found it thanks to you, Miro."
"Hehe."
There was a sweet couple in Seoul.
Even in this apocalypse stained by anomalies, the two were living out a wholesome romance.
Then one day, they stumbled upon firearms and magazines dropped by the military. They scooped them up, thrilled at their dumb luck.
And then.
-Bang!
Less than two weeks later, one shot the other dead.
"Ugh... M-Miro... Why...?"
"Sorry, oppa. I... I don't have the strength to keep going. So let's die and become one."
"No..."
A couple who had been filming a heartwarming romance suddenly veered into grimdark tragedy.
And this was just the tip of the iceberg.
-Bang!
Some families picked up a gun only to have the entire household riddled with bullets that very night.
Someone, bewitched by an anomaly in the dead of night, hallucinated enemy troops ambushing from all sides and massacred their own family.
"Aaahhh!"
At dawn, realizing the "enemy troops" he'd slain were actually his family, the man took his own life.
With the gun, of course.
Cases like this were endless.
-Anonymous: There's a survivor group with a hideout in my neighborhood. Got totally wrecked last night lol
-Anonymous: Heard gunshots all night, so they must've stockpiled guns. Got curious and sneaked closer—screaming, shrieking, total chaos.
-Anonymous: They were all from the same hometown, super tight-knit... but one gun <[blew it all apart ㄷㄷ; Now you can guess what happened. That's right. The black magic cast by that Russian author had ensnared all firearms. Every gun in the world was possessed by the anomaly known as "Chekhov's gun." Thus, in this world, "if a gun exists," it "must fire at a crucial moment." More precisely: The existence of the gun "forces a crucial moment to occur." The death of lovers. The collapse of tight-knit groups. Regardless of characters or events, if a gun exists, it inevitably creates pivotal scenes with that gun. For how long? Until the magazine runs dry. It was a modern-day golden apple of discord. Wherever guns appeared, strife and tragedy inevitably followed. "Hey? Hey! Put that gun down, you hear me?" "Shut up! My family's all dead—why the hell should I stick with the army? You're all gonna die too!" Bang, bang, bang! The national army, which had once marched on Seoul dreaming of claiming the Korean Peninsula's throne, was wiped out in an instant. The Ten Tribes' "solitary gourmet" feast on the army played a part, but the final blow was delivered by Chekhov's gun. "No, if we turn on each other here, the hope of our nation will be utterly—" "Nation my ass! Die! Die!" "Someone stop that bastard! Wait, fuck? Why are you all loading your guns too? Have you lost your minds?" In short, a base-wide shooting spree erupted. Rumor has it even a division commander was caught in the crossfire and died instantly. The Korean Peninsula got off lightly since firearms were mostly concentrated in military units—the military just vanished quietly. America, where every household treated shotguns as essential items, fared far worse. Less than a month after the Void arrived, 50% of Americans were dead. If they'd known it would come to this, even the anti-gun-control crowd might've thought twice. And so. -[Three Thousand] Court: This is a notice to all Three Thousand Worlds guild members and every Awakener entering Busan. Firearms are strictly prohibited in Busan City. Violators will... -[Baekhwa] High School 13th Year: Banned firearms from Sejong City were discovered! There's an execution at the plaza in front of the government complex around lunchtime today, so please show your support!]_<);;
Not just North America—the Korean Peninsula, no, the entire world began enforcing draconian gun bans.
Gun possession was a death sentence 99% of the time.
Owning a gun was worse than murder.
It made sense. Guns didn't just kill people—they sowed discord in groups and inevitably staged tragedies.
In a way, the anomaly's epithet "Forced Tragedy Enactment" suited it better than its true name, "Chekhov's gun."
That's why Cheon Yo-hwa muttered darkly, "This crazy bastard," the moment she spotted the K5 pistol in her hideout.
4
"So."
We thoroughly searched the entire Baekhwa Girls' High School. Fortunately, aside from the pistol under the window frame, no other firearms turned up.
"Why did your guild member collect and hide a K5 pistol?"
"Uh... We got a confession out of her with some waterboarding. Turns out the perpetrator was sweet on our school's vice student council president."
Cheon Yo-hwa sighed.
"But the vice president is dating someone else. That someone was the victim in this incident..."
"A lovers' quarrel?"
"Yeah... pretty much..."
It felt distant, like an observer's tale.
"So the perp planned to use the gun to kill the victim? Foolish. It wouldn't win the vice president's love anyway."
"Uh, well... it's a bit ambiguous."
Cheon Yo-hwa scratched her cheek.
"More like, she planned to use 'Chekhov's gun' to excuse her own murder."
"What?"
"Here's the plan. You know how we at Baekhwa Girls' High periodically head to Seoul for expeditions? She was gonna pretend she just happened to pick up the gun on the road."
Cheon Yo-hwa mimed a finger gun and jerked it.
"Then during patrol, act like she was possessed by 'Chekhov's gun' and accidentally fired... Bang!"
"...Acting?"
"Yeah. Acting. Pretend the victim died from a misfire."
"Huh."
"She wouldn't escape blame entirely, but she'd have the excuse of 'possessed by an anomaly, honest mistake.' Even if demoted to first-year status, she figured she wouldn't die or get expelled. Ugh, kids these days are so cunning."
I was a bit taken aback myself.
"So to sum up, she pretended to be possessed by an anomaly to commit murder?"
"Yup. Pretty awful, right?"
Good lord.
I'd heard of guild members ditching colleagues in the Void for scouting trips, but actively exploiting an anomaly as an alibi like this? Rare.
Human malice truly knows no bounds...
"..."
That's when it hit me.
My mind flashed.
The cheeky student's idea of weaponizing "Chekhov's gun" in reverse sparked an epiphany.
Gun. Breakdown. Gun. Abuse. Gun.
Words tangled in my head.
"Huh? Teacher? What's wrong all of a sudden?"
"..."
"Oh. Lost in thought, huh."
Cheon Yo-hwa went about her business, as if accustomed to it.
It took about three minutes to sort out the revelation and snap back.
During that time, she stood guard around me like a dharma protector during meditation.
"Yo-hwa."
As I opened my mouth, she smiled as if she'd been waiting and handed me a cup of simply brewed green tea pack.
"Yes. Something good came to mind, right?"
"Yeah. If I play it right, I might just snag the Korean Peninsula's strongest weapon this time."
"The Korean Peninsula's strongest weapon...?"
Cheon Yo-hwa tilted her head.
I covered the teacup with my palm and nodded.
"Yeah. Yo-hwa, in your opinion, what's the Korean Peninsula's strongest weapon?"
"Huh? Uh, um... North Korea's nukes?"
"Those couldn't even scratch the Ten Tribes before vanishing. Think of something a person can actually use."
"Oh, right... The Four Yin Evil-Slaying Sword?"
As expected of a prestigious private high school's student council president—she knew her obscure artifacts.
For reference, Cheon Yo-hwa aced Korean, math, English, and history on the CSAT.
How'd she take the CSAT in a collapsed government world? Well, every November, the anomalies "College Scholastic Ability Test" and Void spawn on the Korean Peninsula.
The questions are bizarre, but she nailed near-perfect scores. Rummage her bag, and you'll find a "Honorary Seoul University Student" certificate.
Anyway.
"That sword's powerful, sure, but still weaker than my cane sword. It never forged any real legends. In this era, the strongest weapons are those with 'legends' strong enough to cleave through anomalies—legends they hold themselves."
"Hmm... Not sure. I'm not big on weapons, but does Korea even have something like that?"
"It exists."
I grinned.
"Yo-hwa, ever heard of the Beast's Heart?"
"Huh?"
'The Bullet that Killed a God.'
German-made Walther PPK pistol.
Serial number 159270.
The Korean Peninsula's strongest divine treasure.
The strike that pierced Yushin's heart.
That's right.
The very firearm that assassinated the former president was now screaming for me, the Undertaker, to farm it.
5
Surprising as it may be, the gun that achieved the monumental feat of "presidential assassination" wasn't enshrined in a museum.
Its whereabouts were a complete mystery from the start.
After the KCIA director carried out the assassination, the pistol was transferred to the Army Scientific Investigation Lab.
Post-analysis, it went to the Defense Security Command, then Army HQ.
Once the trial wrapped up, it circled back to the KCIA with a "well, it's your property anyway, right?"
In Korea, any item passed through three or more government agencies is surrendered forever.
Even the "Korean Peninsula's strongest divine treasure" was no exception.
Naturally, the PPK vanished.
The KCIA claimed:
"They seized it at the Security Command."
The Security Command retorted:
"We returned it to KCIA ages ago."
Familiar sight? You're not imagining it—civil servants nationwide share the same DNA.
But it's no laughing matter.
Perhaps those officials instinctively feared this cursed demon sword—no, demon gun—that slew a god.
It was an artifact that shouldn't exist on earth. Frail mortals had to return it to the divine realm ASAP.
Yes. The bureaucrats were right in the end.
The best way to handle a curse is to pretend it doesn't exist.
The Korean government wisely sealed the cursed relic.
And now, I, the Undertaker, needed that relic. Desperately.
Right after parting with Cheon Yo-hwa, I raced north from Sejong City.
I arrived in a certain district of Seoul.
[...Undertaker.]
The Saintess, who always monitored my CCTV feed for fun, finally spoke.
"Yes?"
[Are you really going in there? I mean, that's the Void you always warned me never to enter.]
"Yes. You mustn't go in, Saintess, but I'll be fine."
[...]
I brushed off her silence and gazed up at the scene before me.
First, the backdrop: Seoul's landmark, Namsan Tower, loomed proudly.
And naturally, for Namsan, its iconic building was there too.
KCIA headquarters. To some, better known as ANSP.
Now reduced to a Void.
That's right.
As mentioned in previous episodes, "solo fortune monopolization"—the pinnacle of genre fiction—met its end in our world.
Thanks to that vile anomaly called the Fortune Quota System.
But why mourn?
Buffet tangsuyuk can't beat the real deal from a specialist Chinese joint. Even if hogging the menu's banned, just order the tastiest single dish.
I, the Undertaker, proudly count myself among the Korean Peninsula's gourmets, trailing only Dang Seo-rin and the Ten Tribes.
"Saintess. Today, I'm off to farm the 'God-Slaying Divine Treasure.'"
[...].
"Watch over me."
Today, I'm feasting on the Korean Peninsula's greatest fortune.