Chapter 4
Chapter 4
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Blue Moon (3)
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『Lee Seung-hoon.』
Its mouth opened. Not just one mouth, but countless mouths, each spewing their own words.
『Plum Lee (李).』
『To rise, Seung (昇).』
『To teach, Hoon (訓).』
When a crowd speaks, distinguishing the words is no easy task, but the Blue Moon's voice imprinted itself on the mind with crystal clarity, in every language.
"Remarkable. How did you know, when I never told you?"
Pure curiosity prompted the question, but the Blue Moon offered no reply.
You, Lee Seung-hoon, son of Lee Jin-hyuk, son of Song Ye-rin, grandson of Lee Ja-cheol, grandson of Yang Ok-bun—why are you unscathed?
"Then allow me to ask in turn. Shouldn't I be unscathed?"
You, one-eyed, destroyer of the 6th Division, thorn in Lee Deok-gu's side, Ryu Se-hyun's nightmare, star-faller—my interest is the expansion of small universes, the realization of the self, and now I borrow the two-eyed gaze, if only for a moment.
My curiosity was sated. From the nostalgic names it kept reciting, it seemed the Blue Moon could peer into a person's life.
'Facts the game never revealed.'
Had its creator truly designed such a power? No, I doubted it. The Blue Moon I knew was merely a creation based on the Western superstition that "the moon symbolizes madness."
'The beings of a gamified reality surpass their creator's imagination.'
It was only natural that entities beyond human comprehension would exceed human imagination, just as their creators had hoped.
A one-eyed beholding the two-eyed world should naturally be dazzled. Creatures unadapted to the brilliance reject the light and fear the unknown—yet you stand unchanged. Why?
"As you said, perhaps because I am two-eyed."
You, poison-bloomer, non-picky eater, 127,642nd spiciest food survivor, straight wisdom-tooth grower, never ingrown-toenailed—you are no two-eyed.
The eye on the Blue Moon, which had been casting glances in all directions as if surveying the world, suddenly fixed on me.
Had you been two-eyed, I would have known! In sixty kalpas, the two-eyed among the creatures I have seen are few, but their small universes are beautiful and unforgettable—you are no two-eyed.
The sounds of the world vanished.
Thus, you, pitiful creature, inscrutable being, floating speck, purposeless life, pathless wanderer—I shall grant you an eye.
A searing pain erupted in my right eye.
Prove if you are one-eyed or two-eyed.
Something writhed along my optic nerve, burrowing into my brain. Invisible, yet I knew it was an earthworm. The agony of it churning through my mind was a novel, unpleasant freshness, the first of its kind in my life.
When the pain finally subsided, I saw two worlds.
My left eye beheld the original world.
My right eye beheld the Blue Moon's world.
『Hello?』
『Hello?』
In the right-eye world, earthworms wriggled toward me.
"Are you okay?"
"Is something wrong?"
In the left-eye world, people approached with concern.
'Remarkable.'
Gazing upon them stirred a tumult of emotions, like paints splashed across my heart. Pity for a roadside beggar, rage at a child-killer, overwhelming awe at a newborn, sympathy for a young animal awaiting rescue in a rain-soaked cardboard box.
All these feelings surged and mingled within me, culminating in...
'So pitiful. Let's kill them.'
Killing them would save them. I didn't know why I arrived at that conclusion. All I knew was that I could redeem them through death.
"Excuse me? Can you hear me?"
I reached out toward the human before me. Kill it. No knife, so strangle it. No—bash its head with a rock. There's a good one right there. But what if it flees while I fetch it? No problem—kill someone else then.
Whether one knew of the Blue Moon or not, the surging inner urge rivaled the starvation-driven craving for food before one's eyes, akin to the instinct to breathe.
"Yes."
And so I reached out.
"I'm fine. No need to worry."
I grabbed the person's shoulder and smiled.
After shooing the people away, I wandered the streets. A sudden craving for a cigarette hit me. After hunting down a smoking area, I finally lit one.
Who are you?
As I smoked, the Blue Moon ceaselessly addressed me.
What are you? Do you not wish to bestow mercy? Those were emotions no mere creature could endure. Do you not understand my words? I shall speak in terms you can grasp.
By the time my cigarette burned out, the Blue Moon's disparate mouths unified.
Why did you not kill them?
The question was mundanely banal, despite the resounding force that shook the world.
An ant cannot resist the current. The two-eyed eye granted to the one-eyed is a flood from a breached levee; you creatures have no choice but to be swept along. Yet I yearn for a miracle within.
It wasn't emotion—it was instinct, my will, an action that must be taken.
I wish for the ant to become a fish and swim, a bird and fly. You are not. You are one-eyed. Even with the eye bestowed, you remain one-eyed. Thus, I ask once more.
But necessity didn't demand it be done.
Thus, I ask once more. You, knowledge-thief, finger-pointed by kin, desireless thief, finger-pointed from beyond the screen, walker of all paths—who are you?
For the second time, I answered the Blue Moon's question.
"I am human."
Its mouths became ears, as if determined not to miss a word.
"An animal hoping for rationality, a being craving true knowledge, a mortal striving to practice benevolence, a ephemeral entity maintaining the self amid the five aggregates, a creation seeking to love others without reserve."
I tossed the burned-out butt and lit a fresh cigarette.
"I sought to live humanely, so I set my own standards of right and wrong. Killing them was wrong, so I refrained—even if it was a torrent pushing against my self."
It had been ages since someone listened to my tale without curses or prejudice. I grew animated.
"Modern folk claim humans are beasts, instincts unstoppable. But no. Amid the barrage of war, scientists starved yet preserved seeds for the nation's future, refusing to eat them. Firefighters plunge into promised death."
Humans are beasts. Yet reason sets them free.
"That's all I did."
You, human, sage, fool, mortal, genius—what do you wish to do?
"Nothing grand."
My life's goal had always been singular.
"To live humanely."
What manner of life is that?
"Never ceasing to learn, loving others, living rationally, embracing change, moving forward."
The pain in my right eye faded.
You are a two-eyed wearing the guise of one-eyed.
The Blue Moon dimmed.
A first—a one-eyed who is two-eyed. I bestow praise upon you.
A foreign sensation returned to my right eye, though painless this time.
A delightful encounter after so long.
"Wait."
What is it?
Before it vanished entirely, I asked.
"Why do you do this?"
The Blue Moon's mouths opened in unison.
Because I love you all. Because I pity you. Because you are precious. Because I wish to care for you. Because you are beautiful.
Words utterly at odds with its actions.
Bestowing mercy upon you is my hobby.
With that, the Blue Moon vanished completely. I scanned the space with only my right eye open, but it was gone.
"Mercy, huh."
I finished my second cigarette and lit a third.
'The emotion from that first right eye was indeed mercy.'
The pity for every visible soul might be what the Blue Moon feels for humanity.
"Euthanasia."
Merciful killing to end suffering. Knowing a world of survival of the fittest, I could understand the Blue Moon's actions.
"Still."
That didn't mean I could accept them.
"Entities are dangerous, friendly or not."
Exhausted mentally after returning home, I turned in early.
'But why did I survive unscathed?'
The Blue Moon is transcendent. Ways to survive it: use a special entity, avoid it entirely, or raise mental fortitude above 80.
'Normally, you can't exceed 70.'
That's why over 70 earns sage status, over 80 the pinnacle of humanity.
'Without reaching humanity's peak, the Blue Moon's effect is inescapable.'
A sudden hypothesis struck. Another way to escape, even without peak humanity.
"Overdoing it backfires."
Mental fortitude exceeding 90.
Too low, and madness ends the game. Too high, and madness ends it differently.
[Your mental fortitude has surpassed human limits. The world recognizes you—an entity wielding psychokinesis through will alone—as an entity. Yet such power is too much for a human; you become a madman and depart the world.]
I chuckled despite myself.
"I'm no madman."
Fatigue closed my eyes.
"No ordinary guy like me."
I opened them again, reaching toward the ceiling. I imagined flames, telekinesis on objects—nothing happened.
"No psychokinesis either."
I'd survived the Blue Moon's assault, but now a decision loomed.
"Keep surviving, or die now?"
Among entities, far worse than the Blue Moon abound.
Ones inflicting unimaginable mental or physical torment overflow. If my memory served, half the dead endings stemmed from the creator's frenzy: city annihilation, nation, humanity, world, Earth, universe.
"Even quiet living risks death by entanglement."
"Death as respite is only possible now."
Shall I buy a rope?
On the way out, drizzle fell.
'Real rain this time.'
Confirming umbrella-toting passersby, I turned to fetch mine—and crushed a crawling earthworm.
"..."
A real one. It writhed for life, luckily reaching grass and vanishing.
"Sorry."
Live or die? Earthworms regenerate strongly, but the damage might be fatal.
"Sometimes acting on instinct isn't so bad."
Surrendering might be wise.
"But you don't know till you try."
Becoming an earthworm and wriggling might not be so bad.