Chapter 220
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 220
Chapter Title: The Empty Shell
Suddenly being treated like a demon was utterly ridiculous. Were they seriously saying it was wrong just to struggle for survival?
According to them, something was in the process of breaking out of an egg, and we humans were apparently the nutrients for whatever bird was hatching from it.
"What of ours is the nutrient?"
"Everything we've built up. Knowledge, culture, art, society...."
The spider detached itself from the scale it had been perched on and delicately navigated the tangled web of threads hanging around it.
As it left the dish, the scale tipped, sending the one I stood on downward.
"An imperfect world exists to create a perfect one. A larva doesn't endure hardship just to become a pupa."
It goes beyond the pupa to become a butterfly.
"This world wants it. That's why it called us. After enduring for so long, the time for shedding has finally come."
I scratched my head and replied.
"We don't want it."
"Exactly. That's why vermin like you popped up. Viruses interfering with the butterfly's metamorphosis."
In their eyes, our positions were reversed. To them, we were the viruses, and they were the white blood cells devouring us.
"Every world needs a god to manage and rule it."
I, of course, vehemently disagreed. No, it doesn't.
The gold-embossed spider spat thread from its rear, and the scattered webs shifted into vibrant colors, forming patterns like stained glass.
"If you want to get technical, this place was originally a womb for birthing a new god."
Listening to the explanation, I gave a wry smile.
"So the contract with Korea really was a sham, after all."
The creature shrugged at my words.
"Why say such ungrateful things? If the newborn god tries to destroy Korea, we'll do our utmost against it to ensure Korea's safety."
They'd try their best to protect Korea from the god, but ultimately fail. In that case, the contract with the Sandai Club would be more or less fulfilled.
That was their plan from the start. If their goal was creating a god to control Earth, once successful, the rest didn't matter.
Korea wouldn't fall to Erosion Zone monsters or cores anyway—it would be destroyed by the god they birthed.
"Destruction for a new birth. We're sacrificing the present for a better, greater world."
The egg must break for the bird to emerge. And our current Earth was that egg. I could guess why they killed people.
The souls of the dead fed whatever would become that god. Through them, it gathered fragments of the knowledge we'd amassed, using it as the foundation to complete the new deity.
"Objection overruled. The defendant's statement has been duly noted."
As I ignited Paradox Flame along my spear, the ring on my finger glowed blue. The air temperature plummeted, and frost-covered air settled like hoarfrost.
"Yeah, I heard you loud and clear. As long as I'm alive, your petty little goal won't come to pass."
The gold spider burst into laughter at my words.
"I told you, you're too late. This is just the emptied shell after the job was done."
In other words, the stone slabs I'd cleared thinking they were mechanisms were just pranks conjured by this glittering spider woman before me.
Their sole purpose had been to buy time.
"Of course, you complicated things, forcing an early delivery... but that's got its own contingencies."
The gold spider's eyes fixed on me.
"There's nothing you can do."
The multicolored webs writhed, dazzling my eyes.
"Except die here."
There was nothing more to discuss. Sure, it'd be nice to ask a few more questions, but the enemy clearly had no intention of indulging me.
One thing was certain: if we'd reached Israel a bit sooner, things might've turned out differently.
But what could we do? We'd given it our all, and this was the result. Regretting it now wasn't reflection—it was pointless remorse.
Anyway, the Erosion Core's contents were gone?
First things first: smash the spider in front of me, then figure out the next step. As I reared back to thrust my spear, one of its spider legs stabbed into empty space.
"You'll settle for every choice you've made up to this point right here...."
Its body suddenly jerked.
"Looks like the receipt's longer than expected, huh?"
It wore the expression of someone checking their phone the morning after a drunken spending spree.
A growl rumbled from the fractured space beyond. Just hearing it sent chills down my spine.
"Whoa, familiar faces all around."
Countless faces were embedded in a massive tar-like blob. Monsters and humans alike—all ones I'd killed. Or rather, the remnants of those I'd slain.
I recognized it because among the myriad faces were some etched deep in my memory. Perched highest was the lion face wearing a golden crown.
"Long time no see, buddy! I'm almost tempted to hug it out. You look rough."
This was the apocalypse from another world that I'd destroyed. Now, stripped of most its power, reduced to mere scraps not even worthy of scraps.
Still, that single head alone could probably devour a Rank-1 Erosion Core's nucleus.
"What in the world are these things crawling out of?!"
When you summon something stronger than yourself, the outcome is always the same.
The summoner gets eaten. The tar blob with tangled faces surged like a river, engulfing the gold spider in an instant.
I swung my spear as if shaking off dust and replied.
"You called it, so why the surprise?"
Your choice, right? Let's see you tough it out with grit. The spider thrashed to escape the clinging mass, but it was futile as a bug stuck in flypaper.
That's why you need to be careful what you summon.
"How was Epitaizer? Tasty?"
As if answering, the massive tar blob that had devoured the spider undulated. It looked like it was saying, Next up, the main course—you!
—You killed me.
—My arm torn off, guts spilling, trapped for hours in the rain-soaked gutter, screaming for help.
—I couldn't even hold my mother's body. No arms left.
—You said you'd come save me, not to give up. I believed you.
—The arrow from behind, from allies I trusted. As I died, I heard your orders.
All the suffering and deaths from my choices poured their resentment toward me.
"Fakes."
These weren't real. The wailing faces before me were just my sense of responsibility and guilt over my actions taking form.
The countless deeds I'd piled up.
"Sorry."
—Apologizing now won't...
I cut in.
"If I could turn back time and face the same choices again, I'd make the exact same calls."
Kill, betray, abandon, give up. No matter when I rewound time, those were the only options available to me.
"Wanna all go down together?"
Of course, it was self-justification. If I'd been stronger, maybe I wouldn't have needed those choices. Smarter, and I might've found better paths.
The people plunged into tragedy by my decisions might've been spared if I'd been a better person. No denying my responsibility there.
This face-covered tar blob was my guilt and sense of duty made manifest. If I felt nothing, it wouldn't have appeared.
"Should I be happy about this?"
After all those years and deeds, I still had a conscience left. If nothing had emerged, that might've been sadder.
"Yeah, something to be glad about."
If nothing had come, it would've meant I'd rotted away completely, without a shred of remorse for my choices.
"And honestly, I don't owe an apology to something like this anyway."
Apologizing to something that isn't the victim? These days, some call that an apology too.
But this gooey lump was my guilt itself. Harshly put, it'd be like a killer saying, 'I apologized to myself for killing.' Peak psychopath nonsense.
—I'll kill you...
Before it finished, my spear slammed into it. Wet squelching sounds accompanied shattered heads and a gaping hole torn through its body.
"Gonna talk me to death? Shut up and come at me."
Arriving at an empty Erosion Core after all that hardship pissed me off enough—now my guilt had to run its mouth too.
Made from my head, so it inherited my chattiness? The black mass reformed the hole in seconds, heads regenerating.
"How to deal with it..."
Three ways came to mind.
First: Beat it for real.
"The others would take way longer."
Second: Let it pummel me until I felt I'd atoned enough. 'This is punishment enough.' Then it'd vanish.
But how long would that take? How much time until I decided it was sufficient?
The last was simplest.
Burn my guilt and responsibility with Paradox Flame. That was its essence. Stop feeling it, and it'd disappear naturally.
But that'd make me a true psychopath. Feeling it now was a good thing—I didn't want to turn it into sorrow.
"Hey, just fighting till you drop seems quickest."
Take your licks. As I decided, the monster born from my dormant guilt and duty surged toward me like a slime.
The black mass was enormous, faces innumerable.
"Me, huh."
I'd remembered this many faces of those I'd made suffer. Thought I hadn't, but here was the massive guilt I'd carried.
The more I thought, the more startling it felt.