Chapter 89
Chapter 89
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 89
Chapter Title: Replier III: Shin Noah 6
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I am, at the end of the day, a so-called storyteller who processes my experiences into tales to share with all of you.
As such, unless my brain goes completely haywire and I start deluding myself into thinking I'm an omnipotent divine being, my stories inevitably stick to the first-person perspective.
That said, even I occasionally envy the wholesale storytellers. You know, the third-person narrators or those who write in the first-person-but-indirect style.
Just imagine it. How delightful would it be to slander and defame No Do-ha from an omniscient viewpoint?
Unfortunately, I lack skills like [Evolve into a Divine Being in the Final Chapter of the Story] or the [Possession] ability, so describing events from a third-person view or immersing myself in someone else's first-person perspective is impossible for me.
However... there are targets who inspire absolutely no guilt no matter what I do to them.
For instance, couldn't I freely "distort history" when it comes to anomalies?
So, I gave it a try.
-Guard's coming! The guard's coming!
The anomalies cried out in fear from the shadows (of course, none of this actually happened, but still).
-Feeling fear from a mere human! Aren't you ashamed as an anomaly?!
-Stop! You can't go! All the ones who couldn't hold back and charged in never came back!
-Long live the anomalies! For the glory of the endless abyss!
-The Agrippa ghost in the art room has been defeated! Lost! No vital signs detected!
-Stupid fool. Made of marble with no physical immunity, what made you think you could rush in?!
-Unbelievable. The Beethoven portrait ghost in the music room isn't responding. The portrait of Beethoven has [Symphony One-Trick] written on it, and he's dead! Blood is flowing from Beethoven's mouth!
-The human specimen ghost in the biology room was found with its organs completely shredded! The heart has [Arrhythmia], the kidney has [Diabetes], the tongue... [No Do-ha]? Mysterious letters are scrawled on it like a curse!
-No way! This is the strongest tutorial dungeon that appeared on the Korean Peninsula—school ghost stories! And yet our ace units are getting wiped out without even putting up a fight?
-Enemy shadow approaching! It's coming this way! Ahh! Flashlight beam! That light! Our eyes!
-Block it! Protect it somehow!
-The guard's coming! The guard's coming!
-Aaaahhh! Run! Run!
And that concludes our fun history-distortion session.
No matter how much I distort history, though, the truth doesn't vanish.
And the truth here is that from the first floor to the third floor of the school building, I've cleaned out pretty much every ghost worth mentioning.
Day 2 of exploration.
After exorcising the "student left alone in the classroom after school" ghost in a third-floor classroom, I set up a clear notice board on the stair landing.
[Patrol Complete]
With this, the lower floors of the school building were all converted into safe zones. We'd returned from the void called "school ghost stories" to the reality of Baekhwa Girls' High School.
"The really important part... is the fourth floor, huh."
I muttered to myself. When exploring the void alone, constantly talking to yourself like this proved quite useful.
"It's a way to check my sense of self."
If unintended mutterings slip out, or if those mutterings feel like "my own words," it's a sign that a brainwashing-type anomaly has appeared nearby.
Of course, self-talk has its downsides too.
"Heading to the fourth floor is extremely dangerous. But that's probably where the most survivors are trapped."
"Yeah. I knew you'd show up sooner or later."
Crack!
I immediately channeled aura into my cane-sword 'Do-ha' and stabbed my own shadow.
-Aaaaaahhh!
Especially now, excessive self-talk could easily summon a "doppelganger"-type anomaly if you're not careful.
But if you've prepared countermeasures in advance, you can instead deliberately keep muttering to yourself and "fish" for the doppelganger.
The shadow pierced by my cane writhed and squirmed.
-How? How? How?
"Thanks to the blessings of civilization, anomaly."
I smoothly removed the earpiece from my left ear. A small microphone was clipped to the collar of my guard uniform.
I was eavesdropping on my own mutterings in real-time through the earpiece. The mic and earpiece were connected to my smartphone, deliberately set to low audio quality to replicate my voice.
If a voice comes through the earpiece that's from a completely different distance or quality? That's proof a mental brainwashing anomaly is nearby.
And the way to exorcise a doppelganger is simple.
"Tell me the Saintess's real name."
-......? ......?
"Can't answer, huh. You're not me."
Bubble bubble bubble—
The shadow boiled over, then pop! A bubble burst. Once all the bubbles popped, my shadow returned to normal.
After learning the Saintess's true name in the 36th round, I'd never exchanged proper names with her again. A doppelganger living only in this round had no way of knowing it.
Thus, "me" and "you" were different. The denial of identity. Having its weakness exploited, the anomaly could no longer maintain its existence and collapsed.
"Boring one. If you want to brainwash me, at least bring Go Yo-ri."
But it wasn't over yet.
I put the earpiece and mic back on. Then I pulled out a walkie-talkie from my pocket.
"Alright. This is Guard Undertaker. Currently heading from the first, second, and third floors to the fourth. All clear. Continuing night patrol."
-Crackle......
"Yeah, got you."
I'd also confirmed the anomaly's presence in the walkie-talkie that shouldn't respond.
I immediately set my phone's recorder to loop "All clear. Continuing night patrol" infinitely.
But I sped it up to 10x speed.
Naturally, the walkie-talkie, forced to respond to my words, sped up desperately too.
-Crackle, crackle, crackle, crackle.
"Oh. Holding out pretty well?"
I cranked it to 20x speed.
-Crackle, crackle, crackle-crackle, cra, cklecacklecackle, cra, cra, cra, cra, cra, cra, cra, cra, cra, cra.
Boom!
Before a full minute passed, the walkie-talkie exploded on its own.
A walkie-talkie that couldn't properly respond had no right to exist.
"This is Guard Undertaker. Heading to the fourth floor. Stairs all clear. Continuing night patrol."
-......
No response came from anywhere. Just in case, I glanced at the school speaker on the wall, but it was silent too.
Exorcism complete.
Now, it was safe to say I'd wiped out most brainwashing-type anomalies.
"Hmm."
In the now-silent stair landing, I glanced up toward the upper floor.
Fourth floor.
Death floor.
In voids with stairs or elevators, it's one of the most dangerous zones alongside the "13th floor" and "basement fourth floor."
Don't scoff that it's just a pun on the word "four/death." You might end up with your brain leaking out your nostrils like an Egyptian mummy.
"Playing around with words in the world." Isn't that the essence of humanity?
Wordplay using homonyms forms the basis of comedy and poetry. For the human species trying to dominate the world with language, it's also the foundation of spells.
Smart readers have probably figured it out already.
That's right. This is exactly why I insist on calling myself by the epithet "Undertaker" and never mention the "Saintess's" real name.
Simply revealing one's true name carries the risk of it being exploited in spells.
For figures active in the public eye like No Do-ha or Dang Seo-rin, it's different. But for existences like me and the Saintess who must "hide our identities" to be free, we have to conceal even our names behind epithets, just as we hide our bodies in the shadows.
"Now, let's see."
I opened the trunk bag and took out the "money."
There were two main types.
One was a pouch stuffed full of gold and silver coins. The other was stacks of bills from various countries, bundled in hundreds.
I turned the stairs leading to the fourth floor into an altar, placing the gold coins, silver coins, and bills side by side. I even bit down on a silver coin with my teeth.
Then, with eyes closed, I clasped my hands together.
"......"
Whoosh.
A chilling breeze brushed my cheek. When I opened my eyes, all the money I'd placed on the stairs was gone.
"Ptooey—"
In contrast, the silver coin in my mouth was intact. I spat it out and shoved it back into the trunk bag.
"Man. His Majesty the Grim Reaper sure knows how to take a hefty bribe."
The realm of death, the fourth/death floor—in short, the "underworld"—required me to show my sincerity to enter safely.
That sincerity was the bribe money.
Depending on "what kind of anomaly" rules the realm of death, the type and amount of bribe varies wildly.
The money I'd placed on the altar just now wasn't just bills—it included "coins issued by countries around the world," like Greek silver coins and Venetian gold coins.
Yet the "underworld" in this "school ghost stories" didn't care about nationality and swept them all up as bribes.
What a greedy anomaly.
But this wasn't bad news.
On the contrary, it was welcome news worth embracing with open arms.
"Then, time to cough up what you took."
A truly simple transaction.
The more excessively it devours the bribe, the more "special favors" it has to grant me.
Charon, the ferryman of the underworld, didn't unify the fare at one silver coin regardless of age or gender because he was a pushover.
It was wise foresight to preempt protests and calls for his resignation over fairness issues.
But the "underworld anomaly" just now had gobbled up bribes worth at least 100 million in face value alone, not even counting the historical value of the gold and silver coins. From a living person who isn't even dead yet, no less.
In any religion or mythology, that's bribery, embezzlement, and special favors scandal enough to get fired on the spot with no grounds for complaint.
As a citizen of a staunch democratic society, I couldn't help but grin ear to ear. I boldly stepped toward the most dangerous area of "school ghost stories."
Step.
Step.
The moment I reached the fourth floor, true to its reputation as the worst zone, red chunks of flesh immediately began writhing from all directions, charging toward me—.
-......
—only to not charge.
The red tentacles halted in unison right in front of my nose.
As if an invisible barrier enveloped my body.
Rumble rumble......
In the dark hallway, like the maw of hell, a single gold coin came rolling over with a clink-clink-, then thunk, hit my foot.
I smiled.
"Not accepting."
-......
"No refunds."
-......
Rumble rumble rumble, rumble, rumble rumble.
Gold and silver coins rolled over one after another from the end of the hallway. As time passed, coins piled up at my feet, but I paid them not the slightest attention.
"I said I'm not taking money. You would've demanded limbs or whatever as life debt from humans who couldn't pay up anyway, right?"
-......
"With interest rates this brutal these days, who knows how much this usury will balloon. See you in a bit."
Step. Ignoring the refund request, I kept walking, and the hallucination of flesh chunks dyeing the surroundings red vanished all at once.
Just an ordinary school hallway.
The "underworld" wasn't fully exorcised yet. Proof: the windows outside the hallway were still stained vivid red, with handprints smeared in blood here and there.
But for a while, at least around me, I'd be protected from the "underworld's" curse.
Perhaps because of that.
Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap—
The wooden hallway echoed. Light footsteps. Yet with a grounded weight that never lost balance. A rhythm only a living organism—with breath in its body and muscle in its flesh—could produce.
Not an anomaly, but human footsteps.
"Hiyaaaaap—!"
The bio-rhythm was confirmed in the shout too. A human in a white school uniform leaped from the wooden hallway in an instant, extending her right foot toward me in a jump kick or something.
Excellent jumping power. A splendid kick.
I ducked my head and grabbed her shoe. Shake. The black-and-red Air Jordan basketball shoe halted.
Though the kick carried the full momentum of Cheon Yo-hwa charging in forcefully, I deftly contained it with aura in my palm.
"Huh?!"
She faltered. In midair, an orange ponytail swayed.
Our eyes met for a moment.
"—H-human? Wait? An adult?!"
Instead of slamming her into the floor, I gently landed her on the hallway so her back wouldn't snap.
"Eek! Hic! Gyah!"
She stumbled, failing to keep balance, and eventually fell onto the hallway. But since I'd killed all the momentum, she didn't seem hurt.
"Ow ow ow... W-wait a sec. An adult? A real adult? I mean... mister, y-you're human, right?"
"Mm."
I nodded.
"Yeah, human."
"Aaah...! F-finally! You came to save us!"
Joy lit up her face.
Her impression was quite different from when we'd meet later, but the name tag pinned to her front pocket proved she was the one I'd been searching for.
The Awakener who would grow into Korea's strongest necromancer in the future.
From the last national high school girls' basketball tournament runners-up. Main position: point guard.
113th student council president of Baekhwa Girls' High School. The sole witness to the path leading to the lesser god "Endless Abyss."
Cheon Yo-hwa.
Heaven's cheon, desolate yo, transform hwa. A child bearing a hint of solitude in her name.
The moment I'd finally made contact with my target in the worst tutorial dungeon.