Chapter 160
Chapter 160
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 160
Chapter Title: The Day the Saintess Became a Potato
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1
To be honest, I had quite a few dilemmas when introducing the previous episode.
Should I call it a conflict between the editor and the author?
O Dok-seo and I clashed sharply on the matter.
"Under no circumstances—no matter what—you have to save the '[Administrator of All Phenomena Play]' episode for the very end of the novel!"
That was O Dok-seo's argument.
When I asked why, she said,
"Uncle, you're not an idiot, right? It creates a ring composition. The beginning and end mirroring each other perfectly. How can you pass up ending the work with the exact same sentence?"
"Hmm."
There was merit to that aesthetic, but flipping it around, it had nothing but drawbacks beyond the stylistic effect.
"Drawbacks? What drawbacks? Ring composition is invincible, a godsend. Nothing but advantages!"
"Dok-seo. I'm a regressor. If the beginning and end are the same, even after the novel ends, this bizarre loop of '[starting over from the beginning]' could occur."
"...Ah."
I tilted my coffee cup.
"It might emphasize that this novel is an infinite regression story. Still, it feels like it would only backfire when it comes to escaping the fate of regression."
There were other reasons too.
As I've emphasized countless times, I've resolved to be as honest as possible with you all.
So, I didn't want to hide until the ending of this work—my life story worthy of being called a 'tale'—the circumstances of how and why I ended up writing it.
Why bother?
If I'm hiding something from you, there's only one reason: to subjugate an aberration. Excluding that case, I'm completely open to you.
"You're right... Uncle's goal is to reach a point where regression is no longer necessary. A ring composition could turn into an infinite ouroboros and cause harm. Wow, we really have to sweat the details..."
"Thanks for finally understanding my dilemma."
But my worries didn't end there.
Every episode comes with its own dilemmas. Like if it's too tied to someone's privacy.
In those cases, I usually got permission from the person involved before spinning the tale. For example, getting the 800th-cycle Saintess's approval for the incident with the Saintess from the 600th cycle.
Today's episode was the same.
The protagonist of this tale was the Saintess. So, I told her the whole story in advance and politely asked for permission.
"...Did that really happen?"
"Yes. Hard to believe, I know, but it did. So, may I write about what happened to you, Saintess?"
"No... um, yes. Writing the novel itself acts as a paperweight suppressing outer gods. If I can help, it's fine."
The Saintess hesitated unusually. Then, after a brief silence, she whispered cautiously.
It might've been my imagination, but her voice seemed to tremble a bit.
"...Mr. Undertaker. So, that really...?"
2
It really happened.
One day, I was going through my regressor's schedule as usual.
Then, a familiar Telepathy Saintess-chat arrived.
[Mr. Undertaker. Sorry, but can we postpone this week's study session to tomorrow?]
"Sure? Oh, yes. That's fine."
For reference, the Saintess and I held a study group every Wednesday.
The main texts were philosophy books. A tradition we'd kept since the 63rd cycle.
"Nothing wrong, I hope?"
[Yes. I'm fine. Thank you for worrying.]
"No, good to hear."
I played it off casually, but inwardly, I was a bit surprised.
The Saintess had once pushed the schedule right after subjugating Meteor Shower, saying, "Come to think of it, it's Wednesday," and "Let's do the study session."
She was that serious about it.
Yet she was postponing? Did the Saintess even have a concept of "postponing time"?
[Mr. Undertaker. I'm really sorry. Can we postpone the study session one more day to tomorrow?]
Even more shocking: the next day, she postponed it again!
My face turned deadly serious. This didn't make sense. I'd sooner believe Sim A-ryeon quit community posting.
"Saintess. Are you absolutely sure nothing's wrong? This is the first time you've voluntarily postponed a study session twice in a row."
[......]
"From my experience, first-time events are almost always tied to aberrations. If you don't give me a satisfactory answer, in the worst case, I'll have to assume you've been possessed by some aberration."
[No, um. No.......]
The Saintess stammered.
This was impossible too.
As is well-known, the Saintess always stopped time with a 'click' before talking to anyone, practicing her lines alone. She was a fearsome perfectionist.
Yet she was fumbling her words? Had she caught something from Sim A-ryeon?
"Um, I thought I could handle it alone... No. No, you're the expert, Mr. Undertaker. Maybe it's better to rely on you."
"Where are you right now? What's going on?"
[It's... very, very hard to explain.]
Even explaining Kant's transcendental idealism in our study group, she'd said, "This is a really simple concept," yet now she was admitting difficulty.
[Could you come to my place first?]
I went.
The Saintess's Yongsan home was always filled with a pleasant watery scent. Tropical fish swam in aquariums of various sizes.
But the glass walls, always kept crystal clear, now had faint moss growing on them.
A perfectionist who used chopsticks for potato chips allowing moss in her tanks?
'As expected, something's wrong!'
I clenched my fist.
"Where are you, Saintess?"
[In the kitchen, please.]
I went.
The kitchen was simple, as expected for someone living alone. A small table made with the certainty it'd never serve two.
In the middle sat something I'd never seen before: a potato.
"......?"
Yes, a single potato existed there.
It was random, but I ignored it. Something more important was at hand.
[Thank you for coming straight here, Mr. Undertaker.]
"Sure? Oh, yes. But where are you? You're not hiding, are you?"
[Here.]
The Saintess could send telepathy as voice or text messages. This time, it was text.
[ → → → ]
[ ← ← ← ]
[ ↓ ↓ ↓ ]
I followed her messages' directions. Where my gaze landed...
Yes, there was a potato.
"......?"
[Yes, here.]
I tilted my head. As if equipped with a sensor detecting my gaze, the potato rolled after me: degul.
"......???"
[Here.]
I tilted the other way. Again, it rolled lightly along my gaze: tte-gururu.
I entered a SAN check.
The die in my brain rolled: success.
Enlightenment struck like lightning, whether I wanted it or not.
"...Saintess?"
[Yes.]
"Please tell me it's not."
Then the potato performed an amazing feat. It rolled in place degururu and stopped upright.
It was 'standing.' Per potato behavioral studies, that subtle nod was a 'bow.'
Fuck me.
[Sorry. I've... turned into a potato.]
No hiding it.
The Saintess had become a potato.
3
'My comrade suddenly turned into a potato'—a plot twist no web novel had ever featured—and yet I kept my cool.
Not easy, even for a regressor who's sampled hundreds of deaths.
[Thank you for helping. I tried handling it alone, but I kept worrying about not feeding my fish.]
"......"
Did potatoes have hearts too? I suppressed the academic urge to retort.
Not easy either.
I cleaned the tanks and fed the tropical fish in her stead.
Only after finishing did I calmly converse one-on-one with the Saintess...
Um. So, with a cushion on the table, potato on top, matching gazes with it...
Where was the potato's gaze?
More importantly, now I noticed: the sprout from its eye was green.
To avoid Korean ambiguity, precisely: not 'green' but 'blue.' Was that reflecting the Saintess's hair color?
I couldn't hold back anymore.
"Saintess. Not sure if I should ask this, but... how did you become a potato?"
[We can guess it's an aberration's doing.]
Of course it was.
[Probably some curse. That's what I think.]
Of course a curse.
[First, my mind and consciousness are intact. This aberration seems to only transform the body into a potato.]
"What's the cause? Did you wander into forbidden places on a walk, burn hundreds of potatoes in a bonfire and incur a potato ghost's grudge, something like that?"
[No. A few days ago, a bug flew into my eye during a walk and it hurt a bit, excluding that.]
"A bug in your eye?"
[Yes, just a flying insect. Aside from that minor incident, no clue.]
It was maddening.
Long story short, even I, a seasoned regressor, couldn't cure the Saintess from potato state. Four days of treatment all failed.
Don't blame my incompetence. I guarantee no regressor from any fiction could do it either.
[Mr. Undertaker. I'm fine.]
Yet the one who should be maddest and jumping was calmest.
No head left to go mad, no legs to jump, but Holy Potato was overly composed.
From inside my shoulder bag, Potato-Saintess said,
[I can still act as a constellation, monitor Awakeners with Clairvoyance, send Telepathy—all functioning normally.]
"Pardon me, but your current form throws the very concept of 'normal' into question."
[No issues so far.]
True.
Incredibly, even in this fallen state, she was handling 'constellation duties' as usual.
That moment, I became the first human in history to feel respect for a potato.
Not a hall of fame I wanted.
"...Any discomfort?"
[No. Just keep tending my fish like this sometimes. Oh, and.]
The potato peeked out from the bag. How? No idea.
[My body's gotten a bit tough.]
"...Well, it's a potato?"
[No. It seems to crave soil, water, sunlight. Hard to describe, but that's the sensation. Could you help?]
"Hmm."
At that point, my mind hit critical mass.
Anyone who's watched me long knows: once I cross the limit, I let go of myself.
If you can't avoid it, enjoy it.
If you can't enjoy it, delegate it.
"Of course. I'll help."
Enjoyer mode, ON.
I immediately grabbed Potato-Saintess and kicked open No Do-ha Corps Chief's office door.
"What the—no, what the fuck...?"
After hearing the full story, No Do-ha's expression was a sight.
So priceless, you could make a webtoon just to showcase it.
Watching her facial muscles twitch eased the heartburn in my chest. Yeah. Can't suffer alone.
"This is really the Saintess? Huh? Awakener Undertaker. You expect me to believe this shit right now? Yes...?"
"The Saintess's message echoing in the Corps Chief's head is proof."
"Why the fuck— what kind of dogshit...?"
"We don't know the cause. More importantly, No Do-ha Corps Chief. Your ability is [Prosthetic Creation], right?"
No Do-ha scowled deeply.
She was ex-civil servant. Tell one 'hey, you made good PPTs,' and their eyebrow twitches.
"And?"
"Prosthetics you make move like real limbs. See, the Saintess is still an Awakener. So, if you make prosthetics and attach them to the potato..."
"Ah. Now you're asking me to make potato-specific prosthetics? Wanna die...?"
"Why? Hate it? Corps Chief, potato-phobic?"
"No, you asshole running your mouth... How the hell do I even make potato prosthetics...?"
It got made.
After 15 days of crafting, the Saintess-exclusive prosthetics resembled a StarCraft Goliath.
Or the tripods from Spielberg's [War of the Worlds].
Either way, premature sci-fi design for modern humanity.
A spindly body with robot arms and legs, one potato piloting.
"Saintess, how is it? Feel like limbs?"
[One moment.]
Kikigikigik-
Amazingly, the mechanical arms and legs worked fine. The 'Potato Robot' walked bipedally.
[Yes. Moves well.]
"Ooooo!"
I cheered in the lab.
Truly moving. Who'd guess? No evolutionist predicted potatoes succeeding primates in bipedalism.
"No Do-ha Corps Chief, success! This is humanity's great discovery!"
[Yes. Thank you sincerely, No Do-ha. Now I can live fully too.]
"......"
Despite our fervent thanks, No Do-ha stayed silent. Her eyes were dead.
"You fucks expect me to believe you're not aberrations but on humanity's side...?"
"Sigh, of course. Who cares for people more than us?"
"Fuck. Still looks totally like aberrations..."
Kikikik- kkikik-.
While No Do-ha and I talked, the Saintess kept testing the robot joints nonstop.
[Hmm.]
Nod—the potato in the robot shook slightly.
Maybe my imagination (even I, a physiognomy expert, am still novice at reading potato faces).
The Saintess looked extremely pleased.