Chapter 242
Chapter 242
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 242
Chapter Title: Infinite Regressor Spills the Beans
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1
"Nooo! I hate it! I hate fighting the Outsider God with this pathetically weak body! At least hand over control of the dream demons and let me fight them! Otherwise, I abso-lutely won't cooperate!"
"To state the facts calmly, no matter how much of a tantrum you throw, nothing will change."
"You bastard! Regressor! Demon!"
"My ears don't even itch."
687th regression.
The world had already begun crumbling at full throttle. Even in this chaotic mess, instead of opting for early retirement, I partnered up with Mu-geon and kept her by my side.
This seemed like a good time to introduce the strategy I, the Undertaker, employ when the end of the world draws near.
"A-ryeon. Shut down the Saintess operation and fall back."
"Y-Yes? Um. If that's what the Guild Leader thinks, I don't mind, but the Manchu defense line has already collapsed, and New New York has fallen, so the Eastern Divine Holy Kingdom is on the verge of total breakdown...?"
"That's exactly why. 'Monster Waves' are about to explode out of control soon. Take only your fanatical followers who obey your every command even in death and retreat to Busan."
"Ah! Got it!"
First up, the Eastern Divine Holy Kingdom was done for.
With the real Saintess of Seoul dead—not some fake like Sim A-ryeon—it had become impossible to brainwash the zealots by cramming messages into them one by one under the nickname [Dawn Star of the Second Coming].
-Oooooh! Lord Mo Gwangseo Christ!
-Are You truly abandoning us!?
-Destruction approaches!
Mo Gwangseo was still alive and well.
Yet, the mere cessation of constellation messages led countless zealots to believe their connection to 'God' had been severed, driving them into a frenzy.
I didn't blame them.
For those who had lost family, hometown, friends, nation, and ethnicity, the 'heavenly voice that always answered prayers' was their sole lifeline.
Collapse was inevitable.
The Eastern Divine Holy Kingdom's crusaders—who had moved in perfect unison to repel the anomalies just days ago—disbanded in an instant.
"How many are following us?"
"Ehehe. I-I scraped together mostly high-combat awakeners. If I bring too many, even Grandpa Sword Marquis would struggle to feed them... A-about six hundred...!"
Not every zealot was blindly devoted to Mo Gwangseo, though.
The Northern Saintess. Living, breathing healing.
On the battlefield, Sim A-ryeon saved most injured as long as they avoided fatal wounds.
Naturally, combat squads—who clashed with anomalies most frequently—held the deepest faith in the Northern Saintess. After all, she'd saved their lives countless times.
They were known as the 'Saintess Guard.'
The name sounded ridiculous, but they were the Korean Peninsula's northern elite.
If their master ordered them to die, they died. If she begged them to survive, they crawled back from hell itself—Sim A-ryeon's personal demons.
Northern front: retreat. Next.
"Yo-hwa. From now on, Baekhwa Girls' High School's Sejong campus becomes the branch, and Busan hosts the main school."
"Ah—what? Yeah, it's a bit sad with all the kids buried in the playground here, but no choice!"
I gave orders to Cheon Yo-hwa as well, not Mu-geon.
With New New York and Pyongyang about to fall, there was zero reason to hold Sejong.
Seoul north of the river? As mentioned in the last episode, it was obliterated by a massive earthquake. Incheon suffered similarly catastrophic damage.
Central front: retreat.
Retreat, retreat. Endless retreat.
Until the Nakdong River formed the final defense line.
-Great Library Librarian: SG Net announcement.
-Due to the emergence of an Outsider God-class anomaly, all constellation voices have been simultaneously blocked. Until this anomaly is subjugated, the constellations cannot assist you.
-Awakeners residing on the Korean Peninsula, please retreat southward and form the final defensive line.
-The current status of refugee zones centered around Busan is as follows...
Retreat wasn't easy.
As you all know by now, even with the National Highway Management Corps periodically clearing paths with caravans, the world was fundamentally tainted by the Void.
Walk a sunny road in broad daylight, and one misstep could lure you into a 'strange place.'
Answering a voice you shouldn't, or glimpsing something you shouldn't—it was the same.
-Lee Hyun-soo: Midway from Iksan to Jeonju, we're stranded. 16 people. Rescue us, and we'll give 50% of our supplies. Please save us.
-Park Ha-byeol: Moving along the coast from Gangneung, now stuck at the snow mountain peak. Position unknown. Firing aura periodically as a signal. Help us, and we'll repay you. Our supply list...
-Anonymous: Everyone but me seems dead.
Casualties piled up everywhere.
The National Highway Management Corps threw everything into dispatching rescue teams in all directions, with Three Thousand Worlds and Baekhwa Girls' High School lending support. I did my utmost too.
Still, countless stragglers were left behind.
No helping it.
'The Saintess's death hit too hard.'
If Yoo Ji-won had survived, her [Minimap] could have pinpointed the stranded.
But in this regression, Yoo Ji-won died in the Inunaki Tunnel too.
Essentially, my right eye and left eye—my substitutes for monitoring the Peninsula—had both gone blind.
Did that mean I'd give up?
"No Do-ha Corps Chief. How's refugee intake going?"
"It's chugging along somehow. I mean, anyone who made it here without croaking is top 1% of humanity already..."
Busan had always prepared for such 'final crises.'
Shantytowns expanded rapidly, but villages were strictly planned and sectioned.
Three Thousand Worlds witches capable of aerial flight patrolled the skies for security. They monopolized the rights to judge and enforce laws.
Naturally, conflicts arose between locals and refugees—but.
"Yo-hwa. Do me a favor."
"Sure."
You might've forgotten since I rarely mention it, but Cheon Yo-hwa's original job was necromancer.
She had a brainwashing technique called [NPC Creation].
It forcibly imposed thought patterns and behaviors, turning people into zombies who 'thought and acted only as programmed'—a taboo.
"Wh-what? What are you gonna do to me—"
"Hya!"
"—For humanity's survival, we must all unite! Of course!"
Troublemakers were 'purified' by Cheon Yo-hwa into model citizens.
If you didn't want reprogramming into an NPC, you had to stir trouble with some tact. Luckily, most apocalypse survivors already had that virtue.
Rule by blood and iron.
Fortification proceeded apace around Busan.
"Pyongyang refugees accommodated."
"Nampo, Sariwon, Kaesong, Wonsan refugees—all arrivals confirmed!"
"No more coming from Sejong."
"Iksan, Jeonju, Gwangju, Mokpo, Haenam, Suncheon—all crossed except those staying behind."
"Two guilds from Gangneung still missing."
"Nakdong River defense line should complete phase one within a week!"
The National Highway Management Corps led all operations, pulling all-nighters like meals.
"Hmm..."
At headquarters, No Do-ha guarded her post so relentlessly it was questionable if she ever slept.
Her usual face, her usual weary eyes and voice, sipping coffee.
"We've saved who we could. Lucky that old coot Sword Marquis is still kicking despite his age. Otherwise, he'd have keeled over trampling fields..."
"The magical girls promised reinforcements if needed."
"Hmm. Always wondered why you buddy up with those folks so much. Turns out they're useful after all..."
I nodded.
Then, I looked at a National Highway Management Corps member and asked.
"Still no word from Daejeon?"
"Yes, sir. They just say they'll handle their own refugees, so no need to worry."
Go Yo-ri.
Even in this regression, Daejeon stayed untouched by the refugee waves. Anomalies probably wouldn't touch it either.
I nodded slowly.
"Good. On to the next phase."
That day, SG Net was hacked.
――――――――――
Author: 'Collector of All Anomalies'
Greetings, human awakeners active on the Korean Peninsula. (chuckle)
――――――――――
The site turned blood-red. Cracks spiderwebbed like shattered glass.
A phenomenon that had never occurred before.
Awakeners were stunned.
――――――――――
Author: 'Collector of All Anomalies'
Watching you all struggle to survive warms a desolate corner of my heart somehow.
How does it feel, having those sudden days of parasitizing other constellations' goodwill and favor cut short?
The constellations you revered are all in my grasp. A few I haven't caught yet, but regardless, they can't interfere with you anymore.
Can you survive such trials and tribulations?
――――――――――
Announcements like this flooded everywhere. Regular awakeners couldn't post or comment.
Naturally, it was our scripted play.
The one who posted under [Collector of All Anomalies] was Sim A-ryeon. Naturally, aggro from countless people focused on her.
"...Sorry, A-ryeon. I always dump the dirty roles on you."
"Huh? Ehehe. No! I'm totally fine! If anything, all this aggro makes me happy!"
Too much aggro was the problem.
Let this state persist, and Sim A-ryeon would definitively become a Corruptor.
That's why we only used the 'blame all the world's evil on Sim A-ryeon' ploy right before humanity's extinction.
Like now.
"Ah, Uncle!"
Bang.
O Dok-seo burst into my room without knocking—fitting for our guild's youngest along with Lee Ha-yul.
I'd just showered, so she got a full view of my bare torso. O Dok-seo froze.
"Whoa. Abs are killer..."
"Sexual harassment?"
"Uncle could strip down more. I usually hate muscle hunk characters, but for you, I'll allow tank tops. Oh, but not too often or it won't fit your image—just occasionally."
"Definitely sexual harassment."
"Who cares in this busted world... Ah! More importantly! Uncle! Come to the terrace!"
I sighed.
'Ordinarily, the Saintess would've tipped her off via telepathy: [Miss O Dok-seo, Mr. Undertaker just showered, so wait a bit before entering.]'
Even in these trivial daily moments, the Saintess's absence was palpable.
I suited up in barista attire and headed out. Wasn't from the Inunaki Tunnel. My current lodging was at National Highway Management Corps HQ.
On the communal terrace, the view beyond Busan stretched out.
O Dok-seo, Lee Ha-yul, Cheon Yo-hwa, Sim A-ryeon, Dang Seo-rin, and No Do-ha were already waiting.
"You're here..."
No Do-ha glanced over, sipping coffee.
I followed her gaze skyward.
"......"
Beacon fires.
Dark pillars of smoke rose from afar. That vertical smoke column was what had provoked the 'mysterious Outsider God' into frenzy.
The smoke shot straight up endlessly toward the heavens. No ordinary smoke—this was a holy flame designed for visibility up to 1,000 km.
And those holy flames were rising.
From the horizon—
One, two, three, four.
Five, six, seven, eight.
Nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen.
Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen.
Across the horizon—
Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty, forty-one, forty-two, forty-three, forty-four.
Witches monitoring from the skies, refugees hustling to build villages on the ground, citizens dutifully at work.
All dropped everything and stared vacantly at that sky.
Silently. Endlessly.
Smoke pillars erupted one after another from every direction—front, back, left, right.
"......"
"......"
The entire terrace of executives fell silent.
Only the sound of No Do-ha spilling her coffee and Lee Ha-yul clutching my sleeve echoed faintly.
That was the scene heralding the end of our era.