Back in Korea (1)

Although I only lived inside the condo, it wasn’t as if I was completely cut off from outsiders. Especially after paparazzi photos exposed my face in magazines, the Korean government officially requested a meeting.

“It’s nice to meet you like this. I’m Kim In-guk, First Secretary of the Korean Embassy in the United States.”

The United States was an ally, and I had heard during meetings that they planned to supply access capsules to Korea. Unless it was a separate classified matter, they said it would be fine to share the information.

“The American government has granted you special citizenship, but you still retain Korean nationality, and I understand your parents are still living in Korea.”

“Yes. The special citizenship grant means I hold dual nationality.”

“That’s why…”

Vice Minister Kim In-guk kept circling around the point, so I decided to cut in rather than waste time.

“What exactly does Korea need from me? The American government wants to help its allies as much as possible. I’d like to help as much as I can too.”

“Hahaha. Thank you for your patriotism, Mr. Park Jinwoo. We have decided to accept one capsule from the United States first and proceed with the contract.”

Because meeting a god to sign a contract for transference to the other world wasn’t easy, the United States was sending one contract-use capsule ahead of the others. Since they had to distribute capsules to many allies—France, Korea, Japan, Israel, and more—they seemed to be sending the contract model first.

“Aside from the United States, which happened almost by chance, hundreds of people have already died in China, Russia, and the UK. So in Korea, we are trying every possible method to reduce those casualties.”

The documents Vice Minister Kim In-guk produced were quite interesting. The idea of having people who entered the capsules carry shamanic bells and spirit-contact talismans used when receiving a god in Korean shamanism was amusing.

“Since we must meet a divine being first, we are preparing even these measures.”

They were also choosing locations for the capsule access devices based on feng shui principles—places where spiritual energy gathered—while analyzing direction, date, time, and even the participant’s Four Pillars of Destiny.

“Is this the scientification of superstition? It’s interesting.”

“In one sense it may look ridiculous and groundless, but please see it as an effort to reduce the number of deaths during the contract process as much as possible. We are already short on population as it is.”

Vice Minister Kim In-guk was right. Whether it worked or not, it made sense to try everything possible.

“However, there is a problem. I attend church myself, but most Christians are refusing to acknowledge this new world. We’re worried about how public opinion will shift once people start dying during the contract process.”

Korean Christianity was fairly well-known worldwide. In the United States, Korean churches played a positive role as important community hubs for Korean immigrants. However, problems had arisen from pseudo-Christian sects that pushed strange doctrines and churches built around pastor-messiah worship that urged people to believe in their pastors as saviors.

And the Americans currently protesting outside the condo were mostly fervent Christians as well. They believed the mere existence of gods in the new world denied their own god, Jesus. As a result, they were pressuring the government to build churches in the new world and send pastors as transmigrators.

If it was this bad in America, it would probably be worse in Korea.

“It does seem like the backlash in Korea will be stronger than in the US. Especially if you start using things like shamanic tools.”

“Yes. That’s why we need you, Mr. Jinwoo. We need an authoritative figure and a star who can block protests from those Christians.”

“A… star?”

“There are many fervent Christians inside government ministries, so there is opposition even to using these superstitious methods to reduce casualties. This information has likely already been leaked to the churches.”

“Hmm. There are certainly people who treat their entire lives—including their work—as an extension of their religion.”

“Therefore, until the transmigrators successfully complete their contracts and emerge, we need someone who can hold back the media and exert positive influence. That’s why the Korean government plans to conduct star marketing that borrows on your authority.”

“I see. So while I act as a lightning rod for Christian attacks, you’ll succeed in the contracts and produce transmigrators.”

“Yes. That is why I came to ask this favor.”

“For that to work, I’d have to stay in Korea. Will the Americans allow it?”

“That is for us diplomats to resolve. And from the American perspective, since negotiations with the UK haven’t gone smoothly, they will want to strengthen allies like us however they can.”

“That may be true. But becoming a lightning-rod shaman isn’t something I can agree to lightly. Especially since quite a bit of my information is already known—there are safety concerns for my parents…”

“The government will arrange for you and your family to stay in a separate secure facility for at least three to six months for your protection.”

“Six months would be enough time for transmigrators to actually appear, so the other side would have to acknowledge it by then.”

“Yes, exactly. Once official transmigrators emerge, we plan to turn them into stars and publicize that they are working hard to pioneer the new world.”

According to Vice Minister Kim In-guk, everyone involved in the contracts and all transmigrators would be registered as national meritorious persons, and pensions would be paid to their families in the event of death. The South Korean government was preparing properly in its own way.

Still, since it wasn’t possible to bring cameras into that world, I was curious how they planned to turn the transmigrators into stars.

It had already been over three months since I arrived in America. I missed my parents, and staying cooped up in the condo was starting to feel stifling, so I wanted to go back to Korea.

“All right. If the American government permits six months, I will handle the media pressure and the extreme Christians while connecting from Korea.”

“Thank you. We will prepare as quickly as possible.”

America was pouring its strength into pioneering New Jamestown, so support from its allies was desperately needed. Moreover, once they learned that Russia and China were also supplying capsules to their own allies, the United States had no choice but to work hard to win its allies over.

They therefore approved Korea’s proposal and permitted my return to Korea.

“Oh! There he comes!”

“It’s ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠him! It’s Park Jinwoo!”

As I emerged from the airport arrival gate, a storm of camera flashes erupted. A child wearing hanbok ran up and handed me a bouquet.

“Wh-what is this?”

When I saw Vice Minister Kim In-guk standing with the reporters beneath the banner, it was clear this was all part of the star-making campaign. That was why they had told me to dress neatly before coming to Korea. I struck poses in several directions.

I answered the reporters’ questions, took photos at the photo wall, and signed autographs. The children were holding rather strange books.

“Hah— what is this? Heh heh heh.”

Seeing the title made me laugh despite myself. There had once been controversy over whether modern sports stars should be included in the series of biographies published for elementary school children to read and draw dreams from. Yet now my own biography had been released simply because I was a new-world transmigrator. It was so absurd I could only laugh.

“Please give me an autograph!”

“Uh, sure. Listen to your parents, okay?”

Children who looked like third or fourth graders lined up to get my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠signature in their copies of my biography. This too seemed to be part of the government’s star-making project.

“You could have given me a heads-up. I was genuinely shocked when I saw the book. What exactly is written in it?”

“Hahaha. Doesn’t that flustered reaction make you seem more human? It simply says you worked hard to become a pro gamer, retired after reaching the semifinals due to injury, but then challenged yourself again with a pioneering spirit and became a transmigrator.”

“It sounds like a science-fiction novel.”

“Hahaha. That’s how all these biographies are. And following the biography, a language study book will be released next week.”

“Ah, you mean the Entrick Continent common-language textbook?”

“Yes, exactly. We didn’t realize there would be problems reading the letters even with divine power. So we plan to publish and distribute the book first.”

Just looking at the book covers and advertising copy Vice Minister Kim showed me made my head spin.

“They will be translated and released in English, Japanese, and other languages, not just Korean. Everyone’s expectations for transmigrators are high and they want to go to the new world, so the revenue from this book will be considerable.”

“Heh heh.”

Additional income was nice, but the feeling that my face was being sold to the entire nation left me strangely embarrassed.

“The educational broadcasting station also wants you to do Entrick language lecture programs. Would that be all right?”

“Ah, that’s a bit…”

The government was handling image marketing for transmigrators extremely well. It looked as if they had directly benchmarked how NASA in the United States had turned astronauts into idols.

“Once you unpack, we will go see the people who applied for the contracts and those confirmed as transmigrators.”

“Are the contract applicants and the transmigrators separate groups?”

“Yes. Those who applied for the divine contract connection all have serious illnesses. The people confirmed as transmigrators are all active-duty soldiers.”

“Serious illnesses—do you mean terminal patients?”

“Yes. If they succeed in contracting with a god and become transmigrators, they all intend to bring back potions to cure their bodies.”

If people with cancer or incurable diseases were participating with clear purpose, I wanted to help them too.

“And because there were cases of transmigrators running away like the old astronaut defections, we decided to use only active-duty soldiers without exception.”

I agreed with that as well. It was why America was also sending in soldiers.

“This is the New World Contact Center where you will be staying for the time being. Your parents will be here as well.”

“By the way, there are a lot of pharmaceutical company logos here.”

“It’s thanks to the potions. The pharmaceutical companies have been promised production rights once the potions are brought back for analysis.”

“American pharmaceutical companies failed at analysis and production. Will it work here?”

“The fact that those American companies’ analysis data has not been released suggests they are continuing their research. The pharmaceutical companies view potions as medicine, so they believe they can replicate them without understanding the magical manufacturing process or divine-power production. Of course, if it were possible to wield such magical abilities on Earth, the situation would be different, but right now it seems impossible.”

Wait. As the number of transmigrators increases, people like me who can use abilities here might start appearing.

“Anyway, I told you I knew something was off when you went into that weird coffin-like thing. They said going in there is extremely dangerous! Why did you lie back then!”

The moment Mom saw me she hit my arm, accusing me of deceiving her, then soon burst into tears of relief.

“I really didn’t know it was that dangerous. And everything turned out fine, so it’s okay now.”

Dad was happy that thanks to his son he had retired early and could play golf here every day.

Starting the next morning, media outlets began gathering at the New World Contact Center. It was the day the first contract applicant would enter a capsule.

“I was a 42-year-old discharged soldier who received a terminal diagnosis of stage-four stomach cancer. However, as a condition of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠participating in this project I have returned to military service, and I intend to devote my remaining life to completing this mission.”

It seemed the government was treating the new-world project like a movie, intending to heighten patriotism. They had put forward a discharged soldier who had volunteered for the experiment and created a narrative of sacrifice for the nation.

When he greeted his family before entering the capsule and went in alone, there was hardly a dry eye among those watching the broadcast. Then, four hours later, he was declared brain-dead. The first attempt had ended in failure.

I couldn’t tell whether this should ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠be called a noble challenge and sacrifice or exploitation in the name of national interest.

And when three former soldiers, police officers, or firefighters died each day—twelve in total—newspaper articles appeared and various organizations began to step forward.

“Burn the capsule that kills people!”

“This is a devil’s trick to make people kill each other!”