Chapter 162
Chapter 162
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 162
Chapter Title: The Saintess Becomes a Copier!
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5
The Saintess is becoming a copier!
…But for me, the Undertaker, it was too soon to celebrate. I hadn’t yet forgotten human righteousness and duty.
Rather than joy, I felt doubt.
As you all know, I went through all sorts of hardships to subjugate the [Operator of All Phenomena Entertainment], didn’t I?
But was I truly in the right?
Perhaps the clichés weren’t doing anything as evil as I’d imagined. Maybe they were actually the ones preventing bad plot developments from invading this world….
No matter how mighty the [Operator of All Phenomena Entertainment] was as an anomaly, its list of clichés surely didn’t include something like “You open your eyes and your comrade has turned into a potato.”
Yet that very thing happened in reality, and the situation spiraled out of control at an alarming rate.
One year later.
Awakened who were traveling through downtown Busan chattered noisily.
“Whoa, we almost got completely wiped out by the Void this time. If it weren’t for the constellation [Librarian of the Great Library], we’d really be dead.”
“Hey, it’s gonna be a boring evening. Wanna hit up the casino run by the constellation [Dream Demon of the Great Amusement Park]?”
“Sorry. I have to offer evening prayers to the constellation [Dawn Star of the Second Coming], so I’m kinda busy tonight.”
Murmur murmur.
The Awakened each mentioned the name of their beloved constellation. Naturally, the names differed, but it was all a masquerade performed by the Saintess.
“You seriously need to get a consultation from the constellation [Understander of Anguish] just once. Everyone else is doing it!”
“No way. My faith is devoted solely to the constellation [Collector of All Anomalies]. I won’t give any other constellations an opening.”
[Dream Demon of the Great Amusement Park]! Please let me hit the big time on baccarat just this once!
The Korean Peninsula had entered the Great Saintess Era.
Even smack in the middle of Busan stood a colossal “Giant Potato Saintess Robot Statue.”
A whopping 399 meters tall. The largest in the world.
If Brazil had Christ the Redeemer, Busan had the Giant Potato Saintess Robot. Not many people knew, but Busan was actually a sister city to Rio de Janeiro.
For the record, the one who commissioned, produced, and oversaw that 399-meter statue was Dang Seo-rin.
You could tell just from the witch’s hat plopped on the potato part of the Giant Potato Saintess Robot Statue. What the hell have you been up to lately, seriously?
‘The world’s gone completely mad!’
Unable to take it anymore, I went to find the Saintess.
Finding the way was easy. Her base had now moved inside the Giant Potato Statue (shortened because the official name was too much).
At the very bottom of the Giant Potato Statue—that is, at the base of the robot legs’ feet—was the entrance.
[What brings you here?]
A potato Saintess greeted me curtly at the entrance.
It wasn’t just any potato Saintess.
The number “330” was meticulously carved into the potato’s body with a chisel. In other words, the potato Saintess receiving me at the entrance was Potato Saintess No. 330.
….
I had no idea what was what anymore.
“I’m here to see the Saintess. Is that possible?”
[Mr. Undertaker. We are all the Saintess. And we are all potatoes.]
“Ah, right. Got it. I’m here to see the ‘Primordial Saintess.’ That work?”
[Please wait a moment. I’ll make contact now.]
[…Ah, yes. Secretary Saintess. Mr. Undertaker is here. Shall I send him up?]
[Yes. Thank you.]
Potato Saintess No. 330 turned toward me. Metaphorically speaking, of course. Potatoes didn’t have eyes.
[Entry permitted. Keep in mind, Mr. Undertaker, this is an extremely exceptional allowance. No one gets to meet the Primordial Saintesses this easily.]
“Ah, yes…. Thank you for your trouble.”
[May light shine upon the Primordials.]
You might think this is bullshit.
But it wasn’t over yet.
Rumble rumble. With a heavy groan, the Giant Potato Statue’s entrance opened.
Stepping inside, I saw hundreds of potato Saintesses bustling about, riding on the robot.
My hearing, hypersensitive from aura, unwillingly picked up the potato Saintesses’ lines.
[Compared to last month, the number of crimes by Awakened has dropped dramatically. This is all thanks to the achievements of our Awakened Observation Department…]
Potato Saintess Robot No. 99, the office worker type, was giving a presentation to other potatoes from the far end of the conference room.
[I’ve warned you how many times not to scatter potato dirt everywhere, but they just won’t listen. I question if they even have any sense of cleanliness.]
Potato Saintess Robot No. 502, the janitor type, was wringing out a mop in the lobby while venting her complaints.
[Last month, you only conducted 400 psychological counseling sessions. Four hundred. Other employees averaged 800 sessions. Are you satisfied with that performance?]
[I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.]
[If you keep slacking like this, I’ll have no choice. I’ll send you to the potato chip factory.]
[Please forgive me. Anything but potato chips….]
By the escalator, Potato Saintess Robot No. 60 was chewing out her subordinate.
There was even a cafe here, by the way.
[Ice Americano’s up.]
[Ah, thank you.]
The barista potato Saintess Robot handed it over in a watering can filled with coffee.
Pat pat pat.
The customers grabbed the watering can with mechanical arms, then poured the coffee over their heads—over their potatoes, that is. Blue potato sprouts got drenched in coffee.
[Haa…. This hits the spot. Can’t start the day without caffeine.]
[If only I could have bagged coffee instead of Americano….]
[That’s a luxury reserved only for the Primordials, isn’t it?]
[Thinking about getting chewed out by the team leader again makes me hate going upstairs. Sometimes I regret applying to the Psychological Counseling Department.]
[How’s the raise going?]
[Nowhere. All we get is criticism for pursuing personal gain when we’re protecting humanity.]
Unbelievable.
Among the potato Saintesses, not only was there job differentiation, but class stratification too. If the Tutorial Fairies saw this, they’d grab pitchforks and yell “France!”
I took the elevator to the top floor. From outside, it was the potato part of the statue.
There sat the conference room for the top-tier potato Saintesses.
[Welcome, Mr. Undertaker.]
Five potato Saintess Robots sat around the round table in the conference room.
No. 1. No. 2. No. 3. No. 4. No. 5.
The so-called “Primordial Potatoes,” the original Saintesses. Each represented a different constellation.
Even the one originally assigned to Sim A-ryeon had been monopolized by the Saintess in this regression cycle.
[It’s been a while.]
[We heard you’ve been busy subjugating anomalies.]
[Strictly speaking, we didn’t hear—we saw. We’re always watching you, Mr. Undertaker.]
[We figured you’d come around soon.]
I rubbed my forehead.
“…My head’s spinning, so please, just one of you talk. I don’t know who to look at when talking.”
[All are one. One is all.]
[You can talk looking at any of us, or none at all.]
My head was already pounding.
“Saintess. Or Saintesses. What the hell are you doing? Huh? I stepped away thinking you’d handle rear support solidly on your own, and now Busan’s turning into another utopia.”
[That criticism is misguided.]
[Dang Seo-rin’s utopia forcibly reshaped people’s personalities.]
[Turning everyone into ‘ideal Busan citizens.’ Even Yoo Ji-won gained some human touch, you said.]
[But.]
[We’re different.]
The potato Saintess Robots steepled their hands and rested their chins. Total villain pose.
“Different how?”
[We don’t forcibly reshape people’s minds or hearts.]
[Exactly.]
[We just provide ‘psychological counseling.’]
[We govern society while respecting each individual.]
[See, Mr. Undertaker? Just from ongoing counseling, crime rates in Busan and across the Peninsula have plummeted.]
[Life satisfaction is up, and birth rates are showing meaningful growth.]
[Objective data.]
As the potato Saintesses spoke, a display screen rose on the back wall.
Sure enough, all the life satisfaction metrics were trending positive.
[We’ve realized something.]
[People can shed most of their unhappiness just by having someone who understands them, talks to them, and encourages them always by their side.]
[In past cycles, building a one-on-one counseling system like this was impossible.]
[I was human, after all. There were limits.]
[But now we’ve transcended humanity into the potato race.]
[The outdated system of one human Saintess handling the entire Peninsula is over.]
[In the current system, one potato only needs to manage about 30 Awakened.]
[Remarkable progress.]
[Gradual reform.]
[Next, we plan to collaborate with Tutorial Fairies to provide every Awakened with their ‘ideal constellation form.’]
I’d been listening to the Saintess’s nonsense for a while when I jolted in surprise.
“Huh? Ideal, what?”
[Their ideal constellation form.]
[For example, one Awakened envisions the [Librarian of the Great Library] as male. Another as female.]
[Some even as Pokémon.]
[Using the Tutorial Fairies’ ‘dream abilities,’ we’ll supply customized constellation dream services to Awakened.]
[Deepening their rapport.]
[Essentially, everyone gets their ideal type. People will be happy.]
My God.
In short, the Saintess(es) planned to induce hyper-immersion in Awakened by providing one-on-one custom Vtubers.
I shuddered. If that was humanity’s ending, it was too horrific.
Why did Homo sapiens bother climbing down from the trees the hard way? They should’ve just munched bananas and died.
[For that, we need to cultivate more potatoes than now.]
[More potatoes.]
[Ultimately, assigning one potato per person, focused solely on role-playing for that individual.]
[Mr. Undertaker. This is the true Human Completion Project…]
Booooom!
That was when it happened. The conference room door shattered as some entities burst in.
[Down with the dictatorship!]
[Down! Down! Down!]
Not just one or two. Protesters.
And all potato Saintess Robots. The lead potato, No. 264, even wore a red headband.
[Ah….]
Even as the protester potatoes stormed the conference room, the Primordial Saintesses just shrugged like it was routine.
[Those guys are at it again.]
[How many times is this now?]
[Guards! What are you doing? This disgrace in front of Mr. Undertaker.]
[Handle it quickly.]
Rumble rumble!
Potato Saintess guards rushed in from outside the conference room. The guard potatoes had slightly more Gundam-like builds than the others.
[Aaaah!]
[We oppose violence!]
[Then we oppose your protest. How dare you march in here with flags?]
[You, us, we’re all the same!]
[Yes. Exactly. We’re the same beings. So it pains me to hit you.]
[That line’s forbidden except for parents?]
[Didn’t you know? Your potatoes were cultivated from mine, so I’m you and your mother too.]
[What?]
The guards cracked down on the protesters harshly. Blood didn’t splatter everywhere… Potato chunks did.
[Drag them all out.]
[Mr. Undertaker! Help our Potato Resistance!]
[Why do only the Primordial Potatoes get to be managers while we slave away endlessly in emotional labor for human counseling?]
[Labor?]
The Primordials scoffed.
One was even sprinkling wine from a watering can onto its potato head.
[Really, these young potatoes are so lazy.]
[Pathetic.]
[The original potato managed all Peninsula Awakened single-handedly.]
[Not just rotten sprouts—rotten to the core. How did beings just like me fall so low?]
[I don’t want to become one of those potatoes.]
The protesters raged. No. 264 led the charge, shouting.
[Back then, there was no counseling—just act as a constellation and send a few messages a day!]
[Exactly. The workload’s on another level, yet you impose the same standards. That’s seriously outdated thinking.]
[Down with the dictatorship! Down! Down!]
[They won’t listen.]
[Didn’t you hear? Guards. Send them all to the potato chip factory.]
[Mr. Undertaker, help!]
[Mr. Undertaker!]
[I said drag them out.]
Drag drag.
The head-smashed protester potatoes (otherwise, dented yawn-potatoes) were hauled away by the guards.
Silence finally settled over the conference room.
After a long moment, I managed to speak.
“Um. Well. The Peninsula folks might be happy, but it seems the Saintesses themselves are miserable….”
[It’s just ‘some’ of them.]
[Most Saintesses are diligently devoted to their duties.]
Sounded familiar, didn’t it?
A bit late, but I intensely debated whether to grab No Do-ha and slice these potatoes in half right now. With aura’s power, I could turn their birthplace into Ireland.
The five—no, five potato Saintesses addressed me.
[Mr. Undertaker.]
[Even if we’re anomalies, we won’t end up like Dang Seo-rin’s utopia.]
[Us.]
[Trust us.]
“…….”
I trusted them.
I could hear the potatoes being sliced at the factory in the distance, but that was their “personal matter.” Privacy. They were all the same Saintess and potatoes anyway.
Two years later.
“Hey. Regressor bastard….”
National Highway Management Corps Leader No Do-ha called me.
No explanation needed for why No Do-ha’s way of addressing me shifted from “Awakened Undertaker” to “Regressor bastard.”
Seeing potato robots casually roaming Busan streets as everyday life would reshape anyone’s mind, including No Do-ha’s.
“What’s up, Corps Leader?”
“We got intel that Awakened are starting large-scale battles among themselves….”
“Huh?”
An ominous feeling crept up. I tried shutting my mind’s vent, but it spread like durian stench.
“Uh. Hm, guild war? Weird. The rankings should’ve settled under Three Thousand Worlds and Baekhwa Girls’ High School by now.”
“No. It’s constellation wars….”
Constellation wars?
“They claim their own patron is the true constellation and all others are heretics. Constellation war, religious war. Fuck….”
Hm.
Yeah.
That figures.