Chapter 220
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 220
“The death of a living thing is an end, not a beginning,” Earth’s Death said.
“Some say that death is just another beginning.”
“And is that not the case?”
“My death is not, nor should it ever be. If another beginning truly awaits after death, then it does not belong in my domain…”
“I heard that Earth’s Sun considers every living thing her sunlight touches to be her child.”
“Then does that mean the living things here spend their lives carrying countless parents on their backs? I, however, do not consider them my children. My children… are those who live here with me… those who have accepted me as family…”
Just because it was a divinity did not mean it considered all life its children.
“I am a gateway,” Death continued.
“A gateway?”
“A passage that all life must eventually take. If the Sun calls herself a mother… she is different from me. I demand no relationship, no trust from the living… because my arrival is simply inevitable. Yes.”
“I see.”
A few small questions came to mind.
“In that case, do you deny life?”
“Do you ask, knowing the answer…?”
Death denied it.
“Death is a fate that is sure to come. It is not a process of providence, nor is it one of nature. I am merely the world that embraces approaching life, the countless hands that tie the final knot.”
That view partially aligned with Gio’s own.
“Because death is merely a state.”
“Yes… I am glad you understand so well.”
Death offered a ‘smile.’
“Even for the same life, the gaze of each divinity is different. It is not just the Sun and me; it is true for all divinities. Even if they look the same, their essence is different. Even if their essence is the same, their methods differ. The lives I embrace are wanderers whose lights have gone out… I am the artisan who signals their end.”
“You don’t hand them a lantern?”
“That is not my domain.”
Death, it explained, always belonged to those left behind.
“The extinguishing of a life’s light is a state, but the grief of the living is an emotion. My existence is ultimately a process of comforting the survivors and helping them understand. Helping them accept the parting—that is my true role.”
“Then where do the dead wanderers go?”
“That is their own domain.”
The lantern held in their hands, the wealth they carried, their love, lingering regrets, and sorrow—all of it belonged to the deceased. Death accepted everything impartially, but it was neither a benevolent parent nor a gentle friend.
It was merely an artisan who tied knots.
“To whom that knot is sold, or where it will be displayed… is not for me to say. I am no teacher. Do you not think so?”
“I agree.”
“Thank you.”
Pleased by the validation, the divinity rejoiced.
“I earnestly hope… that you, too, will find your own… method, your path, your love.”
“Thank you.”
Fortunately, Gio had already reached a conclusion.
Perhaps this was why people said it was important to make the right friends.
* * *
Yoo Seong-un welcomed Gio as he returned to the Temple of Death’s parking lot.
“Did your conversation go well?”
“Of course.”
That was why he’d packed a bribe, after all.
“It seems the bribe worked.”
“So they really ate it.”
“You didn’t say anything when I brought it, but it seems you were actually worried.”
“Well, divinities don’t normally have a concept of appetite. I know you’re far from normal, but I still have some common sense, don’t I?”
He was only slightly less shocked thanks to the precedents set by the Sun God-infused Teddy Bear and Sankalut. Thinking of those two for a moment, Yoo Seong-un led Gio to the car. Gio got in without a word.
As he started the engine, Yoo Seong-un asked, “Did you get any results?”
“Yes. I’ve made up my mind.”
“…Wait a minute.”
A wave of déjà vu washed over Yoo Seong-un, and he glanced back at Gio with a strange expression.
“You… you’re not about to do something… are you? Like, something…”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I remember you talking about the Demon King just like this on our way back.”
“You hit the nail right on the head.”
“No, I wasn’t trying to guess!”
“…”
Yoo Seong-un asked with a slightly exhausted look, “…What did you decide?”
“I’ve been asking various divinities about their attitudes as gods.”
“Yeah, you did. You asked them all, from traditional divinities to wicked ones.”
“And I’ve reached a conclusion.”
Gio answered clearly.
“As expected, you just have to live however the hell you want.”
“Your vocabulary has gotten way too colorful since you met Arjio.”
“My vocabulary was always like this.”
“And you’ve gotten good at lying, too.”
It was admirable, but at the same time, chilling.
He’s growing so much that soon he wouldn’t feel out of place calling himself human.
If this kept up, it was obvious that even if Gio caused trouble later, Seong-un wouldn’t notice right away. Not that he could have stopped Gio in the first place, but it was still a remarkable rate of growth.
Stroking his neck, Yoo Seong-un finally let out a hollow laugh.
“So? You’re going to live however the hell you want?”
“I feel like you’re grossly misinterpreting my intentions right now…”
“Then what is it you actually want?”
“…”
Staring at Yoo Seong-un in disbelief at the seamless change of topic, Gio finally gave up and answered.
“I’m going to turn people into pigs.”
“…Ah, uh, pigs. Hm, oh, right…”
“When the storehouse is full, the world becomes peaceful.”
“Peace… So is your ‘method’ similar to Mr. Ju-hyeon’s? That damn world peace?”
“It’s a bit different. Mr. Ju-hyeon’s goal is world peace, but my goal is to turn them into pigs. You could say the process and the result are reversed.”
“That’s terrifying in its own way.”
Though it was still better than the destruction of the world.
“No, wait, isn’t that basically what you’ve been doing all along? Even without trying, you’re already some unique ghost story who hands out snacks to passersby just because you find them admirable.”
“You’re not wrong, but my mindset is a little different now.”
“How so?”
“I need to make more friends.”
“…More?”
“Yes.”
The common trait of divinities was that they existed everywhere, completely independent of any flow of time or space. Even if a dimension was shattered, most divinities still existed somewhere—whether in the form of religion or history.
That was the power of a divinity’s permanence, and Gio found it very appealing. A collective connected like a living organism possessed such an alluring quality.
And since Gio possessed his own divinity, he could draw upon those methods.
“Then I can live a life full of friends forever.”
He liked that very much.
Indeed, what Gio had been curious about all this time was not “Is my identity human or god?” or “How should I treat and rule over life?” or even “What is the proper thing for a divinity to do?”
It was, “How can I live as long as them and have just as many friends?”
“Isn’t that wise?”
“…”
Yoo Seong-un was temporarily at a loss for words.
…How can he announce his plan to officially start a religious cult in such a childlike way?
For a split second, he pondered what consequences Gio’s decision would bring, but realizing that worrying was utterly pointless, he let out a sigh.
“Do whatever you want.”
“How decisive of you.”
“You’re going to do it anyway, even if I try to stop you.”
“Hmm, you know me too well. I’ll have to silence you.”
“Don’t scare me like that. When you say it, it doesn’t sound like a joke at all…”
“Was it really a joke?”
“Please, stop.”
“Good.”
Gio laughed, amused.
“You finally know when I’m joking.”
“…I guess so.”
Whether he had grown stupid or just adapted, he wasn’t sure.
Did I catch this from Mr. Ju-hyeon?
It was a truly terrifying thought.
* * *
There was a woman.
By nature, she harbored no sympathy for others. Born to parents who were 1st-Grade Citizens, she grew up with everything she could ever want. Sometimes, seeing the poor begging in the dark shadows between buildings, she found them filthy.
“I don’t want to get involved with them.”
“A good attitude, my daughter. Getting involved with people like that only brings trouble.”
Her parents encouraged this attitude. It wasn’t that she went out of her way to abuse or insult the less fortunate; she simply treated them as if they didn’t exist, because in her world, they didn’t.
Having grown up in an environment of abundance, she began to indulge in refined hobbies, collecting beautiful works of art one by one. She eventually became a regular customer of the Collector, and one day, she came across the entity known as ‘Black Cloak.’
“This is…”
“It is a work by Black Cloak, young lady.”
“Black Cloak? It has a peculiar atmosphere. Is it a watercolor…?”
“It is dangerous to get too close.”
“But isn’t it truly beautiful?”
Back when Black Cloak was known only as a monster, she had encountered Void City and fallen completely in love with its artistic quality. Later, when it became known that Black Cloak was a mystery possessing divinity, her admiration soared to the heavens.
“A work painted by a god.”
It was an artwork that suited her refined life perfectly.
Perhaps she wasn’t the only one who thought so, as strange groups began to form among the 1st-Grade Citizens—such as the Black Cloak Appreciation Club. It was only natural that she sought to join the most prestigious one among them.
“…”
But it was different from what she had expected.
“…Volunteer work?”
“Did you perhaps come here without knowing much about Black Cloak?”
“No, of course not.”
The club member stared at her as if she were something stupid and repulsive, and a denial slipped from her lips automatically. And she wasn’t lying, either. She prided herself on knowing Black Cloak quite well.
“He is a humanoid divinity possessing the divinity of providence, isn’t he?”
“And what are Black Cloak’s likes and dislikes?”
“Uh… he likes good people, so he gives them gifts. Conversely, if he encounters an evil person, he drags them into a frame to meet a horrific end.”
“And yet you question our volunteer system?”
“No, but…”
It was hard to understand.
“I can provide as much sponsorship as you want.”
If it was just a matter of paying membership fees, she could have understood. Countless salons operated that way. But the Black Cloak enthusiasts said otherwise.
“Do we really need to go out and do it ourselves?”
“Are you asking that seriously?”
“It’s not like there’s a shortage of people who want to work. If you want to do good deeds so badly, you can just hire people… Sponsorship is a good deed, too, isn’t it?”
“There is no meaning in doing it that way.”
They insisted that one had to personally volunteer to deserve a place among them.
“Ha, how predictable. You tried to join our club out of shallow greed. At best, you expected to show off with your money, claim the title of a good person, appreciate Black Cloak’s work, and maybe get a gift if you were lucky… right?”
“…Is there something wrong with that? Is sponsorship a wrong method?”
“We can’t say it’s wrong, but if that’s what you expected, you don’t belong with us. We are doing honorable work that cannot be bought with mere money.”
“Ha, this is ridiculous…”
“There are many groups that appreciate Black Cloak, but you don’t seem to know why we are the ones who encounter him most frequently. We are different from those mere copycats. Because we insist on genuine good deeds, Black Cloak has acknowledged us.”
The member even spoke with extreme sarcasm.
“I’m truly sorry to say this, but we are looking for diligent and noble volunteers. We are not a club made for people like you to show off with money and chat merrily. If we start accepting people like you, the quality of our club will plummet.”
“You’re going so far as to say the quality will drop?”
“If that happens, Black Cloak will withdraw his affection from us. We cannot allow that to happen. Do you know how hard we worked to earn his trust? We can’t let an outsider chip away at something so precious.”
“Are you kidding me?” she snapped, her voice rising in fury.
“I can do it, then! I only asked because I wondered if we really had to do it directly. I never said I wouldn’t! Do you think I didn’t volunteer because I didn’t know how? I just didn’t do it because it was inefficient!”
She genuinely believed that. After all, there was an abundance of people who wanted to work, and the back alleys were overflowing with poor people collapsing because they couldn’t earn a single penny.
If she hired them, they would earn money and she could do a good deed—what an efficient way to do charity!
But this damn club had wounded her pride.
“You think I can’t do it?!”
“Oh, you said it.”
“…Wh-What is this?”
“Doesn’t it say ‘Contract’ right there?”
“No, why does a club have a contract…”
“If you’re not going to do it, then don’t. We’re busy enough as it is, and you’re just wasting our time.”
“…Give it here.”
She ended up taking a spot in the club after all.
“I’m at the bottom rank?”
“You’re a new member who hasn’t done anything yet. What did you expect?”
“If I pay more membership fees…”
“Are you going to keep talking about money?”
“…Ugh.”
And so, she began her volunteer work.
She felt a bit dazed, honestly.
Why am I doing this here?
She couldn’t understand it.
The tasks in the club were diverse. And the higher one’s rank rose, the more troublesome and dangerous the volunteer work became.
The club president went as far as visiting 3rd-Grade Citizens hiding in the Unreconstructed Zone to help them with their daily lives.
This is madness.
The higher the rank, the more work there was to do?
They even go outside the city without hesitation.
Why did such a large population gather in the city? Because the city guaranteed people’s safety. The further one went to the outskirts, the more dangerous it became, and the probability of death skyrocketed.
Yet, she endured, if only for her damn pride. She picked up trash on the streets, served meals to slum dwellers, and sent support to struggling citizens of the 2nd-Grade and below.
“The room is a bit cold, isn’t it…? I’m sorry, I wish I could give you something…”
“Ah, no, it’s fine. I can just cover myself with a blanket.”
“I’m so sorry, we don’t have blankets… Would a duvet be alright?”
“…Uh…”
One day, after being told, “You’ve been doing really well lately, I’ll trust you with this,” she went to keep an elderly person living alone company. She made a few slips of the tongue but tried her best to make up for them.
“Ah, ahaha…! I-I can just buy it for you…!”
“Huh? No, I’d feel too bad…”
“Oh, don’t say that! I can easily buy that much for you. How many sheets do you need? No, wait, I should just replace all your bedding. Right?”
Of course, it seemed her methods had a hard time getting validated by the other members.
“I told you, you can’t solve everything with money. While some people are genuinely happy to receive such gifts, there are definitely others who feel a sense of deprivation. It backfires in those cases. It’s a risky approach.”
“B-But… I didn’t know what to say… I worked hard in my own way! I already made a mistake, so what do you want me to do about it!”
“…Hmm…”
However, she also received validation.
“Well, it does seem like you’re truly doing your best.”
“…R-Really?”
“It’s probably just because you don’t have much experience yet. It’s really nice to see you participating so consistently lately. The elderly gentleman even sent a thank-you letter saying he loves the new bedding.”
“Uh, a letter…? To… to me? It’s for me, right? Let me see!”
“Of course, I brought it here.”
“…Ah…”
Looking at the faded stationery filled with two pages of small, neat handwriting, she felt a sense of accomplishment. She had been so envious of the members who bragged, “I finally received a gift from Black Cloak!” but the moment she read the letter, she couldn’t think of anything else.
“…Ahem, I can keep this, right?”
“Haha, of course. It’s addressed to you.”
“I’ll keep it safe.”
Her parents, upon learning what their daughter was doing, had initially worried, saying, “We won’t stop you if you want to do it, but it could be dangerous,” or looked at her as if they couldn’t understand. But after seeing the letter she brought home, their reactions changed, albeit awkwardly.
“…A slum dweller gave you this?”
“Not a slum dweller, a 2nd-Grade Citizen!”
“Ah, right. Yes…”
“…”
“…I see.”
Her father looked bewildered yet somewhat bitter, but he also wore a faint smile.
“There are still people like this left.”
“What do you mean? All the elderly people I meet in the club are like this.”
“…Is that so? I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
He also seemed to be filled with regret.
“I thought only scary people were left.”
He laughed, saying he thought that was the only way to survive without having what he owned stolen, and that he believed everyone was desperately trying to steal from him. Then, he praised his daughter.
“You’re doing well. The members there seem like good people, too.”
“Huh? Uh, r-right? I told you, I’m not doing anything weird.”
“Still, be careful. There are a lot of scary people in the world. They’ll rob you blind before you even know it.”
“Yeah, I get it…”
Then one day, a call came from the hospital.
“…Your mother woke up.”
“…What?”
“The h-hospital… called just now…”
“What? H-How?”
The news was that her mother, whom they had spent fortunes on just to keep barely breathing, had woken up. She, for whom even the best hospital in South Korea could do nothing more than keep her on life support, had fully recovered.
She only learned the reason a few days later in a slum alleyway.
“I validate your good deeds.”
She stood frozen.
A frame painted with Black Paint.
“I see you. Your father has lived a truly relentless life.”
Her breath caught in her throat.
“In a chaotic era, he lost his entire family and almost lost his wife to a slum dweller. The world has become a terrifying place. Hatred toward humans has grown, and individualism has strengthened.”
“…Ah…”
“You, too, lived such a life, yet you performed good deeds. It began with greed, but now you feel happiness. I see you. I validate you.”
The faceless portrait spoke.
“Thank you.”
As the frame vanished, it whispered, “Did you like the gift?”
She remained standing there, alone in the silence.
And then, she wept for a long time—not because she had received the praise of the great mystery she had so longed for, but because the deeds she had done had returned to her as a benevolent gift. She didn’t even know why she was crying.
She was just so, so ashamed.