Chapter 59
Chapter 59
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 59
Chapter Title: Controller II
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Shin Noah
5
To put it bluntly, I didn’t respect the Second Provisional Government one bit. I respected my own damn self and had no desire to be rude if I could help it.
The problem was the Fukuoka city government.
The ones who leaked word of my arrival to the provisional government were almost certainly them.
At this point in time—unlike on the Korean Peninsula—the Japanese archipelago still hadn’t seen its government structures collapse completely.
That’s why they could afford to cling to that Second Provisional Government coin without tossing it.
Who knows? That shitcoin might moon all the way to the Martian atmosphere.
It was an utterly irrational judgment, but gamblers never responded well to rational arguments anyway. And the Japanese already had the sweet success story of the Iwanami Coin etched into their brains.
The moment the Japanese government started regaining its senses would come later, with the descent of the eight million yokai. It was a good deal, except for the part where they had to sacrifice their heads, arms, torsos, legs, and guts in exchange for that wisdom.
Among those yokai, there was one called Inunaki that I’d end up subjugating myself... Anyway, all that’s a story for later.
It hadn’t become reality yet.
Thus, for now, I had to give a damn about the Fukuoka authorities’ face.
My business here was to snag an A-rank Awakener residing in Fukuoka for free. Pissing off the locals would’ve been stupid.
Sure, in the 180th round, I could’ve blown off politics and shit and just kidnapped the Puppeteer on the sly. But at this point, I was just a scrub from the 18th round.
What could I do? Dirty work was still work.
“Haha! To think a patriot like Mr. Undertaker supports our provisional government so much—it feels like we’ve gained a heavenly army of a million!”
“Oh come on, support? I’m not anyone that great. I just want to share in the hardships of our fellow countrymen abroad during these tough times.”
“Ahaha, I see! You’re so humble! Here, have a drink, Mr. Jeong!”
In the end, I pounded alcohol with provisional government officials all night. For a normal country, the booze probably tasted sweeter than “casual chit-chat with the war hero Undertaker.”
Anyway, once I appropriately had them belt out some epic praises worthy of the Yongbi Euchun-ga, even Jeong Sang-guk looked satisfied.
“By the way... what brings you to Fukuoka?”
“Ah. Well, it’s business, but calling it official duty feels a bit off.”
“Oh please, who has official duties in these times? Any business Mr. Jeong undertakes is as good as a national project. If you don’t mind, tell me about it.”
“With you saying that, I feel a bit more at ease. Truth is, do you happen to know of a Korean resident in Fukuoka with the moniker Puppeteer—an Awakener?”
“...The Puppeteer?”
That’s when Jeong Sang-guk’s reaction first stuttered.
“Yes. The Puppeteer.”
“...I know her. Very well. But why that child...?”
“As you know, I run a small academy. It’s essentially a training camp for Awakeners. If possible, I’d like to meet the Puppeteer in person and, if she seems a good fit, invite her to join our academy.”
“I see...”
The former Busan mayor stared at me intently. Then he muttered,
“...Maybe this works out for the best.”
It was baffling self-talk. As the silence between us stretched toward two seconds, Jeong Sang-guk smoothed over the awkwardness.
“By the way, do you smoke?”
I was a pretty staunch anti-smoker. But that question was code for “let’s step outside and talk alone.”
Hell, I could sacrifice my lung health for a bit. If I could ditch my country, what was a lung?
“Yes. To the point I can’t go without one.”
“Let’s go. I feel the heat something fierce, so I need some air. Heh heh.”
We left the bar and puffed pollutants into Fukuoka’s night sky.
Once the fine dust levels had risen nicely, a rather curious sight unfolded.
“Oh. A shooting star.”
“Huh? For real.”
A few shooting stars streaked across the night sky. It was more like a sprinkle than a proper meteor shower.
Soon, the cosmic drizzle stopped. Jeong Sang-guk barely glanced at the stars, scanning the surroundings instead with a somewhat anxious look.
“What’s up?”
“I envy you, Mr. Jeong.”
“Pardon?”
“Sometimes I imagine how great it’d be if I’d awakened too.”
Jeong Sang-guk pulled out a portable ashtray with trembling hands and stubbed out his cigarette.
In that gesture, I sensed not his usual neatness, but the survival instincts of an exile.
No wonder—flicking ashes on a Fukuoka street might make passing Japanese wonder, “Is that Korean treating our land like an ashtray?”
“The Puppeteer is my daughter.”
I was so fixated on the ashtray that my reaction came a beat late.
“...What?”
“The Puppeteer. Ha-yul. Lee Ha-yul. My daughter. If you take her, please take good care of her.”
No fucking way.
As I pondered the strangeness of fate and the mystery of human connections, I mustered a flash of insight to squeeze out a question.
“Huh? Hold on. Aren’t you Mr. Jeong? Not to be rude, but if your daughter’s a Lee...”
“Ah. She took her mother’s surname.”
Was he one of those types who believed kids should carry both parents’ surnames?
But my imagination was far too impoverished.
The former Busan mayor smiled. It felt forced somehow.
“Second family. You know, a hidden daughter.”
Holy shit.
6
Day one’s schedule wrapped up.
For the next two nights and three days, I had time to myself. The provisional government had arranged my lodging.
‘Exiles gonna exile.’
Even as the country crumbled, he’d thriftily packed up his second family and fled overseas. Heroes who mastered the Shrinkage Art were different, alright.
Back in the day, when Han Gaozu Liu Bang got crushed by the Heavenly Demon Xiang Yu and fled, he absolutely had to hop on a carriage.
Liu Bang claimed it was overweight and chucked his kids out. Gamers get it—full inventory as a player is an unforgivable sin.
But in the Chu-Han game, kids were essential items, so a warning popped up: [You can’t discard that!], and he failed to ditch them in the end.
That’s why people need to learn martial arts. If Liu Bang had mastered movement techniques like Jeong Sang-guk, he wouldn’t have needed that flimsy carriage and could’ve boldly committed filial impiety.
“Mr. Undertaker, are you in?”
Knock knock.
I was testing the line between meditation and delusion when a martial arts master showed up right on cue. It’d been two days since we last met.
Jeong Sang-guk handed me a scrap of paper with the Puppeteer’s home address.
His getup was a bit odd, though. Warm spring day, yet he wore gloves, and his cologne was overpowering.
He even refused to accompany me to the Puppeteer’s place.
“No, why? Come with.”
“Sorry.”
Jeong Sang-guk gave an embarrassed smile.
Not very politician-like. His expression was stiffer than at the drinking party.
“My daughter’s going through a rough puberty phase lately...”
“Still, doesn’t it worry you leaving me to meet her alone?”
“Oh no, not at all. Besides, there’s a housekeeper at Ha-yul’s place, so it’s fine.”
“Hmm.”
“More than that, I stopped by Ha-yul’s yesterday and told her about you in advance. No need to worry.”
“Got it. See you at dinner.”
Truth be told.
I should’ve caught the fishiness right then.
If Jeong Sang-guk’s second family was running normally, there’d be the daughter’s birth mother at ‘Ha-yul’s,’ not a housekeeper.
And for someone who’d scrambled to win my favor, suddenly refusing to tag along was weird.
But whatever, what choice did I have?
I asked locals for directions using the address and finally reached Ms. Lee Ha-yul’s mansion.
Knock knock—I rapped the knocker on the front door (electronic doorbells were rare; electricity was precious). Announcing my visit.
“Anyone home?”
Knock knock.
“Hello. I’m Undertaker. Busan Mayor Jeong Sang-guk sent me. Anyone there?”
Knock knock.
“...”
That’s when the bad vibes hit—even then, it was purely from my experience as a Regressor who’d seen every worldly bullshit.
I turned the doorknob. It was unlocked.
“...”
Step.
The moment I stepped into the entryway, spiderwebs filled my vision.
Huge webs draped the hallway, living room, first-floor stairs—like an abandoned house.
No matter the exile life, no matter the illegitimate status, this was too bizarre for the bloodline of a provisional government leader.
‘Hang on, are those even spiderwebs? They’re huge.’
Crunch—
Something crunched under my shoe. A doll.
Distracted by the webs, I hadn’t noticed, but dolls were scattered everywhere in the house.
“Ms. Lee Ha-yul?”
I carefully stepped around the dolls as I wandered the interior.
Figurines, Russian matryoshka dolls, Japanese ichimatsu dolls, Barbie dolls, ball-jointed dolls, stuffed animals, paper flower dolls.
A house of dolls.
Or a spider’s nest.
The presumed housekeeper, a woman in her forties, was in a second-floor bedroom, hanged by spiderwebs around the neck.
“...”
Corpses were familiar. I didn’t panic. Just the sight of thirteen dolls encircling the body in worship was new.
And that wasn’t the only first.
Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack.
Dolls strung on lines rose and fell before and behind the corpse.
Like kids seesawing at a playground.
No clue what mechanism did it, but threads from the dolls’ wrists extended to the corpse’s ‘jaw’ and ‘hands.’
So every seesaw sent the jaw clicking and the fingers twitching oddly. Yeah, like a nutcracker doll.
“What the fuck...”
The stench was immense.
Judging by rigor mortis, time of death was over 30 hours ago. At least 30—it felt way older somehow.
But that was weird.
30 hours ago was the day before yesterday, not yesterday.
Jeong Sang-guk claimed he’d visited his daughter yesterday and prepped her about me. So the housekeeper was already dead then?
‘Something’s off.’
Instinct told me Jeong Sang-guk had lied to me.
Especially the gloves. Those out-of-season gloves nagged at me.
I left the ‘house of dolls’ and headed back to my lodgings, planning to grab my stuff and hunt down Jeong Sang-guk.
Turns out, I didn’t need to bother.
Right in the middle of my room, Jeong Sang-guk’s corpse dangled from spiderwebs—just like the other.
“...”
How?
Something was wrong. No, before wrong—dangerous. Even if Jeong Sang-guk was a powerless traitor, a body in my room was bad news.
One side of my brain cooled rapidly.
A familiar sensation.
My decision was swift.
‘Gotta dispose of it.’
Whoosh—!
No time for truth or whatever—incinerate the corpse first. Everything. Squeezed every drop of my aura to erase every trace.
A feat impossible without piling up inner power across regressions like me.
‘59 seconds.’
I strolled out casually with a book in hand. And deliberately greeted the staff cheerfully.
To them, I was just a guest who’d popped into his room briefly. No one would rationally suspect a body got torched in that blink.
Now, only witnesses were a concern. Anyone who might’ve seen Jeong Sang-guk enter my lodgings.
No worries about CCTV. They were rare these days—not just power issues, but because the devices themselves got yokai-infected easily, so people avoided them.
I asked the staff, “Seen Mr. Jeong Sang-guk around?” They shook their heads—and lived.
Four minutes total.
Not perfect, but enough for an alibi.
I hadn’t committed murder to begin with.
That was the truth.
And I was strong.
Truth in a weakling’s hands might be dull, but sharp when gripped by the strong. What more to say?
‘Old Man Show. I’m billing you hard for this trip.’
I headed back to the dollhouse.
This time, stealthily. Out of sight.
――Circumstantially, the ‘culprit’ was almost certainly Jeong Sang-guk’s illegitimate daughter, Lee Ha-yul.
No need for evidence. I wasn’t a detective or cop. I was a Regressor. Evidence could wait for other rounds.
What mattered now: Scout Lee Ha-yul’s traces maxed out, to gain an edge in future rounds.
Soon proved necessary.
Because at the front door, a light brown-haired Awakener presumed to be Lee Ha-yul lay dead.
“...”
Lee Ha-yul was in a wheelchair, stabbed in the chest by a knife gripped by a doll.
That’s when I first learned the ‘Puppeteer’ was a girl without legs.
In front of her corpse—a woman whose voice I’d never heard in the 18th round and never would—I pressed my left hand to my forehead.
“You crazy old bastard...”
For real.
This trip’s fee was gonna cost big.