Chapter 98 - The Savior Α I

1

Starting with run 117, Gapless was subjugated.

That meant an awakened who commanded a hundred ghosts, had sealed a God of Alienation-class anomaly, and led hundreds of guild members—in other words, Cheon Yohwa—had made a spectacular debut on the Korean Peninsula.

From then on, the peninsula's awakened had a slightly trickier choice to make.

-Goryeojang: Hmm... Honestly, isn't Hundred Flowers the strongest guild on the peninsula now, not Three Thousand...?

For starters, public opinion on SG Net shifted.

-Goryeojang: Hundred Flowers facts) The guild leader is stronger than all the other members combined. All the members are high school students, so they wear school uniforms. Not cosplay.

-Goryeojang: Three Thousand facts) The guild leader is stronger than all the other members combined. All the members have to wear witch hats. Every day at 2 p.m., they're assigned a mandatory daily chore called "broom maintenance time." Cosplay.

-Goryeojang: I believe this alone makes it unnecessary to explain which of the two guilds is superior...

└Anonymous: Big bro Godryeojang always brings the facts lmao

└[Three Thousand]WitchTrialJudge: You fucking bastard.

└Anonymous: I'm in Three Thousand, and he's right.

-Anonymous: So are the Hundred Flowers guild leader and Undertaker dating?

└dolLHoUse: Not that simple.

-Anonymous: Seriously, why do they insist on witch cosplay regardless of age or gender? I genuinely don't get it.

-[Yuldoguk]SwordEmpress: Alas, what a tragedy! The young comrades of today are so preoccupied with heretical paths such as magic that they neglect to train their bodies and minds. How could one not lament this?

└Anonymous: Just leave, will you?

└Anonymous: (Actual words from someone who would've croaked ages ago without their skills carrying them)

-[National Roads]Historian: Comparing their strength objectively, it does seem to be a fact that Hundred Flowers is stronger than Three Thousand, yeah

-CookingQueen: Interesting.

-Anonymous: So are the Hundred Flowers guild leader and Undertaker dating?

└dolLHoUse: Not that simple.

As you can see, Dang Seorin's standing as the peninsula's most revered idol was beginning to waver.

As it happened, her headquarters was in Busan, while Cheon Yohwa's base was in Sejong. Ever since Seoul's land prices had entered an unprecedented, record-breaking slump, those two cities had each become a symbol of the Korean Peninsula.

"I really don't understand."

Dang Seorin's stress index followed the same curve as the consumer price index before the end of the world arrived.

"If she summons spirits, she's a necromancer. It's black magic, admittedly, but that still makes her a proper mage, doesn't it? Then why doesn't she dress like one instead of going around in a school uniform?"

"It's a sign of belonging. Something like, even if the world's ended, we're still from the same school."

"I don't like it."

"Hmm. If it bothers you that much, why not think of it as a Hogwarts uniform? They're wizards too, and they wear school uniforms."

I thought I'd offered advice tailored one hundred percent to her tastes, but Dang Seorin's face turned dead serious.

"Are you insane, Undertaker? Hogwarts uniforms aren't sailor uniforms. They really, really aren't. Sorry, but please never utter that kind of nonsense in front of me again."

"..."

As magic-type awakened, Dang Seorin and Cheon Yohwa would also go on to develop a new rivalry: white mage versus black mage... Well, I'll have another chance to talk about that later.

For now, let me tell you a little story from run 126.

2

One day, at National Road Management Corps headquarters, Noh Doha spoke up.

"Awakened Undertaker. Normally, I'd rather not say something like this..."

"Yes?"

"Aren't you two spending a little too much time glued together...?"

As she said this, Noh Doha looked our way with the expression etched into her facial muscles as their default setting.

Meaning she was glaring at us as though we were the filthy runoff from food waste left out in summer.

Noh Doha had a talent for making anyone she looked at wonder whether they were actually a millipede rather than a member of Homo sapiens. If her talents for managing organizations and winning people over hadn't surpassed that particular gift, she wouldn't have lived long.

At that moment, however, I had no good retort to her ocular assault.

"Ehehe, Teacher..."

Because Cheon Yohwa was clinging to my left arm, busily devolving into a koala.

She'd always been affectionate and prone to physical contact, but this really crossed the line.

"Believe me, I'm at my wit's end too."

"At your wit's end, my ass. You're actually enjoying it, but you're hiding that enjoyment so you can humblebrag to everyone else. Hmph. You may fool heaven, but you can't fool my eyes. Your sinister, sordid instincts are plain as day..."

"Commander Noh Doha. How many times have I told you? Those eyeballs are overdue for replacement."

"Oh. Much like the way you swap out your conscience whenever it suits you...?"

"Alas, what a tragedy. Your vision is as clouded as Liu Bei's when he failed to recognize Pang Tong's talents."

"Fuck, you old fossil. Haven't I told you dozens of times to stop making those fucking Romance of the Three Kingdoms comparisons...?"

"What's that? You'd prefer the Chu–Han Contention instead?"

"Do you seriously want to die...?"

"This is an anomaly. One that causes mental derangement, at that."

She blinked.

Noh Doha studied my face for a moment, then looked back at Cheon Yohwa.

"Ehehehe, Teacheeer... Teacher, you saved me. Teacher. Light of my life, fire of my life, my sin, my soul, my Lolitaaa."

"Hmm."

Noh Doha took out a lens cloth and cleaned her glasses. Thoroughly. Then she put them back on and nodded.

"This is certainly an anomaly..."

"Right?"

"Yes, my apologies, Awakened Undertaker. I thought you were pulling that scumbag trick of helping people, establishing a psychological power hierarchy, and then converting that relationship into romantic feelings. What an unintentionally rude misunderstanding on my part..."

"Not at all. It's fine. Your very existence is already an affront to the world. There's no need to start apologizing now."

After that heartwarming exchange of well-wishes, we began a serious strategy meeting.

"When did the Hundred Flowers guild leader start acting like this...?"

"Exactly a week ago. She suddenly showed up at my hideout without any guild members and latched on to me."

"Hmm. You said she handles her hundred ghosts like Pokémon, didn't you? No sane human could handle anomalies. Could her mind have become contaminated enough to send her off the deep end...?"

"Well, if Yohwa were the only one acting this way, I'd have thought so too..."

"...?"

Noh Doha tilted her head.

"You're saying there are two beings clinging to you, not one? Where? I don't see anyone else...?"

"Ah, can you not hear it—the [Voice] of that exalted being?"

"Fuck. Here he goes again..."

"If you are but an ordinary mortal who cannot hear it, then it cannot be helped. I, Undertaker, the only one capable of conversing with that being, shall have to translate it for you myself."

"Seriously, why is this crazy bastard so good at pretending to be normal in front of everyone else, but turns into a fucking brat only when he's with me...?"

I ignored her and briskly wrote on a sheet of paper.

[Mr. Undertaker. It is difficult to imagine a world without you.]

[Mr. Undertaker. Ethics are the norms of society, and a society requires at least two human beings to come together.]

[Mr. Undertaker. In that sense, it would be no exaggeration to say that you have become a bridge for me in my solitude.]

The words kept coming.

"Huh? What... is this...?"

At first, Noh Doha had watched with a look that said, What is this bastard doing? But her face gradually grew darker.

[Mr. Undertaker. Had there been no regressor in this world, countless lives would have been sacrificed to Tenlegs.]

[Mr. Undertaker. Even if no one else recognizes that fact, I know.]

[Mr. Undertaker. I can only apologize for always leaving you with far too heavy a burden.]

[Mr. Undertaker. I am—the world is—being saved by you.]

"..."

Noh Doha's jaw dropped. If you turned that expression into a gacha-game skin and sold it, its rarity would warrant at least a UR rating.

"Don't tell me this is... the Saintess...?"

"Yes."

"Whaaaat...?"

"Surprising, isn't it?"

"I've never been more horrified in my life...?"

"For the record, she's still sending these in real time, like KakaoTalk messages. About once every ten seconds."

"..."

"And that's after I asked her to cut back. A week ago, it was once every second. Wow, I never imagined Telepathy could be used as unlimited KakaoTalk. Thanks to that, my mental state is now chocolate melting into goo."

"Hmm..."

Noh Doha groaned. A quiet silence settled over the meeting room—though it wasn't particularly quiet for me, since the Saintess's messages kept arriving.

Of course, Cheon Yohwa also supplied background music beside me with her nonstop "hehe" giggling.

"I more or less understand. So... do you have any idea exactly what anomaly is causing this fucking phenomenon...?"

"I do. All we need to do is identify what the two people showing these abnormal symptoms have in common."

Cheon Yohwa clung to me because I'd "saved" her. The Saintess sent endless praise because I was "saving" the world.

"Salvation Syndrome."

Or "Salvation Narrative Syndrome."

That was the name of this bizarre anomaly.

3

Salvation. Rescue.

A narrative frequently seen in genre fiction: the world treats a character unfairly, everyone else joins in, and then the protagonist alone appears—ta-da!—to save them. That cliché.

Naturally, the character feels boundless affection and gratitude toward the protagonist who saved them.

Why naturally? Well, uh. Try handing a million won to a gambler who's lost their entire fortune at Kangwon Land, no questions asked, and you'll see.

The difference between a rescued character and a Kangwon Land gambler is that the latter's life exists in reality and therefore won't change much, whereas the former, being fictional, really does escape the abyss of a ruined life thanks to a million won's worth of help.

Let's outline the key points of a salvation narrative with a simple example.

'Aaaah! I was once the daughter of a noble house, but wicked people plotted against us, my family fell into ruin, and I was sold to a slave trader.'

'If you hadn't helped me, I would have become a demon who despised and hated all humanity, served as a lackey of the Demon King's army as it destroyed the human race, and met the worst possible bad ending. (Point 1)'

'But because you helped me, I escaped the bad-ending route, discovered talents I never knew I had, and awakened as a far more powerful being. (Point 2)'

'You spared no sacrifice or effort for a mere slave. You were wounded and bled. You could have ignored me like everyone else. You could have simply passed me by. Why would you go so far for someone like me? (Point 3)'

'Being with you has taught me something. This is simply who you are. A person who saves others even at the cost of sacrificing yourself. Then I will support you from behind the scenes. Even if it means giving you everything I have. (Point 4)'

Of course, there are countless variations on this cliché. It's like how, once a good restaurant starts doing well, places claiming to be "the original" spring up on either side.

For instance, Point 4 can become: 'Being with you has taught me something. You're kind only to me. I'm the only one you treat as special. Then I will give you everything I have.'

There is one essential point. To the character, the protagonist is worth as much as "the world itself," or bears "the weight of the world" alone on behalf of everyone else.

Therefore, the protagonist deserves to "be praised."

No, no amount of praise can ever do justice to the protagonist's accomplishments and attitude. Because the world's misfortunes are endless, yet the protagonist keeps trying to shoulder that infinite misery, and thus remains forever "wounded." (Point 5)

"—Or so an otaku among our National Road Management Corps staff, well versed in the conventions of genre fiction, has summarized for us..."

"Excellent."

If this had happened after I met Oh Dokseo—the awakened version—I could have figured it out myself. But the me of run 119 was rather removed from genre fiction.

Noh Doha? She went without saying. She hadn't even watched the film versions of [The Lord of the Rings] or [Harry Potter], you know?

The two of us, mere ordinary people, read the impeccably prepared [Analysis of Salvation Narratives] report from the Corps staff and felt satisfied.

In short, we were exactly like bosses who know nothing about a field, read a few scraps of a neatly organized report from a subordinate, and think, *'Okay, thanks to my brilliant mind and wealth of life experience, I've achieved complete expert-level understanding of a field I've never encountered in my entire life.'*

"Then the solution is simple too."

"Oh, what is it...?"

"Ultimately, all we need is for the person who saved these characters to be 'not particularly noble,' right? For instance, I could secretly torment cute fairies behind everyone's backs, or just do pathetic things in general. Then 'Salvation Syndrome' can't hold up."

"Oh..."

"Let's start abusing fairies today. That should quickly shatter their view of me as sacred, and the anomaly will lose its power and evaporate."

"Just what I'd expect of Awakened Undertaker. Your character is atrocious, but when it comes to anomalies, you understand them better than anyone. A true piece of human garbage..."

"Thank you. Though I may not look it, I still have a long way to go compared to you, Commander."

"Hmph..."

The two of us congratulated ourselves, certain of victory.

Let me stress again that Noh Doha and I were in no way experts on genre conventions.

Nevertheless, we were powerful decision-makers overseeing both the light and dark sides of the Korean Peninsula. The Saintess, who would normally have served admirably as an inspector, had gone rather badly off the rails.

History repeats itself.

A lack of specialized knowledge, and the collapse of oversight over absolute power. Humanity has spent thousands of years amply demonstrating what kind of shitshow those two phenomena produce in combination.

Tragedy was inevitable from that moment on.