Chapter 167 - Traveler II

"Welcome, Undertaker."

As I looked at them, they looked back at me.

An “Undertaker” sitting cross-legged in the front-row emergency exit seat gave me a crooked look.

"Though I have no idea which worldline's Undertaker you are."

"Does that make 107 of us?"

"214, including all our companions."

MURMUR, MURMUR

Hundreds of Undertakers chimed in or snorted. In an instant, the plane became noisy.

"Well, if you're really people, there's no harm in counting you as people. But what if everyone except me is an anomaly?"

"Oh. A clever 'me.' I was just entertaining a similar idea myself. Would you kindly set an example by allowing us to subjugate you first?"

My head began to swim.

"... Wait. Stop whispering among yourselves and explain what's going on to me, too. What anomaly is this? A doppelganger? The doppelganger should be inside Cheon Yohwa's Poké Ball right now."

"Explain? Ha. Unless what you've got installed inside that skull is a bird brain, count, you idiot."

The “Undertakers” sighed, shrugged, or crunched on airline peanuts.

"You are the 107th 'me.'"

"Understand? The 107th. We've explained the situation every time a 'me' boarded this plane. We've already given the exact same explanation dozens upon dozens of times."

"Even I, who enjoy every run and find each one refreshing, don't relish the work of repeating an explanation this many times in so short a span."

"No helping it. I'm No. 106. I'll explain."

Another Undertaker stood up.

Curiously, this one wore a Sherlock Holmes hat, apparently under the delusion that he'd been born on London's Baker Street.

Actually, though they were all Undertakers, there were subtle differences in the details. One Undertaker and his companion were wearing matching animal costumes. What the hell were you?

"Each of us decided to 'go on a trip with Dang Seorin' for our own reasons. No. 107. Where are you planning to go?"

"... The Uyuni desert."

"Oh. Dear."

Groans arose here and there. No. 106, Sherlock Undertaker, regarded the two of us with eyes full of sympathy.

"Didn't Hayul once come back from there without her heart?"

"Huh. So Hayul really died in the 110th run in your world? Incompetent. I saved her."

"Isn't that the place where Inca and Aztec mythology mixed together and gave birth to some horrific hybrid?"

"It's where humanity developed its first perpetual-motion machine. Offer up human hearts, and solar energy replenishes itself automatically."

"..."

Beside me, Dang Seorin squeezed my hand. Her palm burned hotter than usual.

"... Undertaker. What on earth are they talking about? Runs? And what's this about going on a trip with Hayul?"

"You idiot. Your Undertaker—no, all our Undertakers—are regressors. No. 107 me."

The Dang Seorin seated in the front row spoke.

For the record, this Dang Seorin had neither a witch's hat nor witch's robes. Astonishingly, she was wearing a school uniform.

A school uniform? Wasn't that the exclusive uniform of our competitor, Hundred Flowers Girls’ High School?

Naturally, the original Dang Seorin, No. 107, could hardly approve of that outfit.

She looked as though she'd spotted a spectator in North Korean army cosplay at a South Korean military parade.

"And what are you supposed to be?"

"Dang Seorin. And a civilized person kindly trying to explain the situation to someone wearing an insane outfit."

School-Uniform Dang Seorin smiled gently.

"Undertaker is a regressor, dear. He's already repeated his regressions hundreds of times. If you're also 'me,' haven't you suspected something deep down?"

"..."

"Now you'll turn to Undertaker and demand, 'Is that true?' Just as I did. I understand how you feel, but please spare a thought for those of us who have to watch. This is already my hundredth viewing of that scene."

That was when it happened.

An Undertaker seated near the middle of the plane rose. Curiously, this Undertaker spoke politely.

"Ladies and gentlemen. One of us must disembark here."

"What?"

"How dull-witted. Have you still not realized?"

The polite Undertaker gave a smug smile, his eyes narrowing into crescents.

"With that Undertaker's arrival, this plane's passenger count has been fixed at 214. Precisely the number of fatalities in the 1997 Flight 801 crash."

"Ah."

"True."

"Heh heh. You've finally noticed? Well, you're late, but not too late. That's right, everyone. If this plane takes off as it is, tragedy is inevitable."

"Oh..."

I was impressed, too. This bastard was smart.

His manner of speaking was obnoxious, though.

He even held an index finger to his lips with a shush. It gave me chills. Why the fuck was he acting like some irresistible heartthrob?

Watching someone with my own face making those gestures less than ten meters away made me feel as though my insides would twist into knots.

"Here is my proposal. If we wish to avoid recreating that plane crash, at least one person must disembark."

"What?"

"We don't want to get off."

"Yeees. Naturally, whichever Dang Seorin accompanied you will be most disappointed to lose an overseas trip she's been eagerly awaiting for two whole years. But that's preferable to all of us falling into the Pacific and dy—"

BOOM!

The polite Undertaker's head exploded in the middle of his impassioned speech.

Fortunately, there was no need to summon Kindaichi and Conan to identify the culprit. The “Thug Undertaker” seated in the back was flaunting his billowing aura.

"Sorry."

Thug Undertaker grinned. The scar near his eye crinkled.

"His way of talking was so obnoxious I simply couldn't stand it."

All 106 Undertakers gathered here, myself included, sympathized. It was an eminently justifiable motive.

"If I'd had the time, I'd have torn his eyelids open and told him to keep his damn eyes open properly. Anyway, that takes care of the accident that pompous prick was blathering about. I wish you all a happy jour—"

"What the hell are you saying, you murdering bastard!"

But Dang Seorin, who held a monopoly over Busan's judicial authority—and was the polite Undertaker's partner—seemed to disagree.

"Die!"

Watson Dang Seorin immediately fired off a killing spell.

THUD

Hit with an Avada Kedavra at point-blank range, Thug Undertaker collapsed, foaming at the mouth. Despite his vicious appearance, his combat prowess was utterly pathetic.

"Aaaah!"

The gyaru Dang Seorin seated beside Thug Undertaker screamed.

"How dare you do that to my Undertaker!"

"You killed my Undertaker first!"

"Ow! Why are you hitting me?!"

BANG! BA-BA-BANG! POW!

The cabin descended into chaos in an instant. Dang Seorins sang on every side, chanting great spells.

Once the Undertakers joined in, unable to stand by and watch their partners get hurt, there was hardly an intact object left on the plane.

Yet even amid all that, the fuselage remained undamaged. This was at least an Ocean-class anomaly.

"Undertaker!"

My Dang Seorin—the witch and train geek, the only reasonable and normal person in this chaotic world of suffering—shouted.

She was struggling alone with the plane's door.

"It won't open! I sang three stacked destruction spells, and it still won't budge!"

"We may be better off with it shut, Dang Seorin. Look out the window."

"The window? Why would I... Gasp."

The plane was already flying. It had soared aloft without any takeoff rumble or acceleration. Anomaly technology truly was the finest in the world.

Just how advanced was its science? It was flying not merely through the atmosphere, but through outer space. The moon's surface stretched out directly beneath its wings.

"This is outer space!"

"Yes. The anomaly seems to have confused an airplane with a spaceship. They do look similar from a distance."

"I-I didn't know traveling to South America would be this dangerous...!"

"Neither did I. This has never happened before."

"Get me out of here!"

"No. Be careful not to open a window or the door, even by accident. That's probably not real space, but a [Space Void]. A void governed by the anomaly [If You Go Into Space Unprotected, You Explode and Die]."

"Why are all anomalies such bullshit?!"

While the two of us sampled the fantasy of space travel, the other parties indulged in a romance of blood for blood.

Blood sprayed everywhere. Undertaker and Dang Seorin heads rolled down the cabin aisle. Hmm. Surreal.

"Wait! Everyone, calm down! This slaughter is extremely inefficient. I don't know whether this is a parallel-world anomaly or what, but if we combine our strength, we could even save the wor—"

"You're right, but could you take off that animal mascot costume before you talk?"

"Sorry. This is part of my essence as Undertaker. I cannot remove it."

"Kill that fucking furry first!"

A brutal variety survival show unfolded.

In the end, the 214 people were reduced to 102. The Undertakers and Dang Seorins with excessively “abnormal” appearances were generally the first to fall.

Among the Dang Seorins who survived this culling were School-Uniform Dang Seorin, Stammering Bespectacled Librarian Dang Seorin, Narrow-Eyed Shrine Maiden Dang Seorin, Blonde Drill-Curl Samurai Dang Seorin, and so on.

This was what an absolute clusterfuck looked like.

Perhaps I had no right to say that while traveling with Witch Dang Seorin, but was there truly not a single normal person here?

With a heavy heart, I spoke.

"First... let's sit down facing each other and talk. Furry Undertaker was dismembered, but he did at least raise a valid point. Namely, an alliance between us."

"Hmm."

"Hmmm."

"If we combine forces, no army could offer greater support. We can forget that old geezer Scho and save the world ourselves."

"But if everyone except me is an anomaly, isn't that assumption worthless?"

"That's precisely where my proposed method comes in."

I smiled triumphantly.

"If we're real humans rather than anomalies, the Saintess's [Clairvoyance] and [Telepathy] will work on us."

"Oh?"

"This is a space void. It only looks like outer space. There's a strong chance we're still above the Korean Peninsula. Every 'Undertaker' here whom the Saintess's Telepathy can't reach is a fake. An anomaly."

"That makes sense."

"An excellent method."

I nodded as the assembled Undertakers voiced their admiration. Then I looked up at the cabin ceiling.

"Now, Saintess? Are you watching? Please answer."

["Yes."]

"You were watching after all. Thank goodness. Then please tell only me which of these people are fa—"

It happened at that very moment.

["Yes."]

["Yes."]

["Yes."]

The Saintess's voice began to overlap with itself.

"Huh?"

It didn't stop there.

["Yes."] ["Yes."] ["Yes."] ["Yes."] ["Yes."] ["Yes."] ["Yes."] ["Yes."] ["Yes."] ["Yes."] ["Yes."] ["Yes."] ["Yes."] ["Yes."] ["Yes."] ["Yes."] ["Yes."] ["Yes."] ["Yes."] ["Yes."]

["I've been observing them this whole time."]

["It's difficult to identify anyone as a fake. My 'Clairvoyance' is"]

["working on all of them."]

["It may be hard to believe, but every Undertaker and Dang Seorin present there"]

["seems to have to be judged real. Of course, we should bear in mind the possibility that I've been infected by an anomaly myself."]

["Undertaker?"]

["Undertaker, why aren't you responding?"]

["Undertaker?"] ["Undertaker?"] ["Undertaker?"] ["Undertaker?"] ["Undertaker?"] ["Undertaker?"] ["Undertaker?"] ["Undertaker?"] ["Undertaker?"]

"..."

Hmm.

Yes.

We were definitely fucked.

'No, wait.'

An ominous possibility flashed through my mind.

If there were 51 Undertakers and 51 Dang Seorins, and even 51 Saintesses... If, in principle, every individual could be observed in sets of 51 within this airplane void...

'Then what about the anomalies?'

By the same logic, wouldn't even the Gods of Alienation have been multiplied fifty-onefold?

In other words, this wasn't an “Undertaker is getting duplicated!” event. Nothing that convenient would ever have happened in the first place.

Quite the opposite. The plane itself was a God of Alienation rate-up gacha banner event.

"..."

"..."

"..."

I—we Undertakers—exchanged covert glances.

Our eyes were murderous. Everyone here had probably contacted the “Saintesses” through their own channels and encountered the exact same phenomenon I had.

And arrived at the same conclusion.

'If [more than one Undertaker] gets off when the plane lands, and the existence of multiple Undertakers is thereby established on the ground—'

'The number of anomalies and Gods of Alienation will balloon by the same factor!'

'If all 51 Undertakers come to exist, there will be 51 Go Yoris, too.'

'This is fucking insane.'

'Only one Undertaker among us may get off this plane.'

That's right.

Now kill each other (me).