WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 449: That Woman S III
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“...”
A torn-off arm. A severed leg.
It was far too cruel to call a fashion anyone would willingly wear, yet that was Sim Ah-ryeon's outerwear.
The Undertaker paused for a moment, then muttered.
“...No. Ah-ryeon. You can grow an arm or a leg back in an instant now with your healing ability, can't you? So why are you suddenly doing that one-legged, one-armed cosplay?”
“Aah.”
Sim Ah-ryeon grinned ear to ear.
“S, sorry! I forgot!”
“Sure you did. Liar. What idiot in this world forgets that their own arms and legs got blown off?”
“Ehehe.”
Sim Ah-ryeon stroked her opposite shoulder with her remaining hand.
“It's just, um. If my limbs aren't all in one piece like this, the people who come to, you know, do me harm, they flinch a little.”
“...”
“I, interesting, right? Haaah. Even people who lost family to the anomalies and storm in furious, the moment they actually see me looking like this, they hesitate. Ah. Not everyone, of course. About sixty percent...?”
I see.
The Undertaker nodded.
“A kind of filter, then. It screens out whether someone carries emotion dense enough to keep spitting rage and resentment even while looking at you in that state.”
“Yes!”
Ten years ago.
The instant the Undertaker learned that Sim Ah-ryeon possessed the ‘ability to drink emotion,' he set to work in earnest on ‘raising Sim Ah-ryeon.'
The premise of the project was simple. All the desperate, brutal events unfolding across the present world, he pinned the blame for every one of them on a single human being named Sim Ah-ryeon.
To pull the project off, the Undertaker marshaled every scrap of knowledge he had.
He used the authority of the Infinite Metagame, a ‘real Constellation,' and on top of that he exploited the powers of the Saintess, a ‘fake Constellation.'
And so was fabricated the worst of all enemies, humanity's traitor, the Miko of ten thousand anomalies.
The villain known by the alias of the Necromancer.
The very Sim Ah-ryeon standing before him.
[‘The Saintess of National Salvation’ congratulates you on the subjugation of the Ten Legs.]
[‘The Saintess of National Salvation,' however, frets that the Necromancer who called the Ten Legs down upon the earth is still scheming in the shadows.]
He made quests.
[‘The Conquerer of the Alps’ lavishes praise on the warriors who subjugated the Meteor Shower.]
[‘The Conquerer of the Alps’ reports that the Necromancer, defeated, has fled to the Japanese archipelago.]
He composed scenarios.
The story the Undertaker fabricated was simple. He had merely placed the ‘Necromancer' Sim Ah-ryeon behind every major incident in the world.
She summoned the Ten Legs. She spread the Udumbara virus. She called down the Meteor Shower. She birthed the Monster Wave.
She, she, she...
She, above all, was absolute evil.
[‘The Saintess of National Salvation’ blesses the awakeners before the final battle!]
Naturally.
This cycle's humanity began to gather its collective will toward eliminating a single absolute evil.
Not a soul suspected the scenario was fabricated.
Even within the Regression Alliance, only the Saintess, apart from the Undertaker, knew the truth.
Because it was an age when everyone needed an object for their resentment.
Because the very hologram the awakeners forever summoned with a whispered ‘status window!' had been in the grip of the Infinite Metagame, dancing to the Undertaker's will from the start.
Because the Infinite Metagame, having devoured even the authorities of the Endless and the puppet master, had arrayed an endless, countless host of zombies around the ‘final boss' Sim Ah-ryeon.
That majesty. That army. That healing ability that mended endlessly no matter the wound, far beyond anything a human could possess.
It was a disguise more than sufficient, more than excessive, to deceive humanity.
[‘The Conquerer of the Alps’ declares the victory of the Human Allied Forces!]
And so, not long ago, the allied forces, braving countless sacrifices, succeeded in subjugating the Necromancer.
The awakeners who had lost family and comrades were out of their minds. The ordinary people who counted awakeners as family and comrades were stained with the same madness.
They craved Sim Ah-ryeon's death. A festival of blood. Above all, an execution as agonizing as one could imagine.
But.
[‘The Chancellor of the Red Cape’ prophesies that if the Necromancer is killed carelessly, a curse beyond death will blanket the earth.]
[‘The Saintess of National Salvation’ frets that, while she understands your rage, you must not be toyed by the Necromancer's tricks to the very last.]
Simultaneous warnings from several Constellations.
When the voices that had faithfully guided humanity until now restrained them all at once, even the people whose eyes had gone bloodshot regained their reason.
No. Could that be called reason?
The false Constellation had been brainwashed by the Undertaker. And humanity, in turn, had been brainwashed by the Constellations.
Their judgment. Their courage. Their war. Their blood-spitting rage, and even their reasons for swallowing that rage. Their epic.
All of it.
There was nothing the Undertaker had not engineered.
-Let us think of it as a blessing in disguise.
A few years earlier, the Undertaker had spoken before the leadership of the Human Allied Forces.
-Look back on the atrocities this one has committed all this time. A simple death may not satisfy us.
-Then what is it you propose we do, nya?
While the other officers held their silence, Manyo Neko of the Magical Girl Association answered back on their behalf.
Manyo Neko had lost a dear friend during the war with the Necromancer. Weeping tears of blood, she had tried to tear the Necromancer apart limb from limb, and the magical girls around her had barely managed to hold her back.
-Consider the nature of this Necromancer.
The Undertaker seized Sim Ah-ryeon by the head and lifted her up.
A hiccupping moan. Even so, the corners of her mouth still curled in that silly grin, and the awakeners of the Human Allied Forces glared at Sim Ah-ryeon with eyes full of revulsion.
-No matter how much you wound her, she regenerates at once. Unless you blow her head clean off in a single stroke, she won't die easily.
-So what are you getting at, nya?
-We have surely marched all the way to this hell as humanity's representatives. But does that give us the right to stand in for all of humanity's hatred?
The Undertaker declared,
-Let us keep her alive. So that anyone, whenever they wish, as much as they wish, may take out their grudge on the Necromancer.
-...
-It won't be atonement. But won't it at least be a release?
It was a sweet thing to say.
If sweetness could ever linger in blood, anyway.
The Undertaker's tongue ended up bewitching the awakeners after all.
They believed, firm as iron, that executing the Necromancer rashly would call down an unprecedented curse no matter what.
If the main dish was wrecked, then claiming at least the dessert felt like nothing less than a victor's rightful due.
-But, Undertaker. I'm not confident I won't just kill her if I'm left alone with that son of a bitch, nya. And there are more than a few people as pissed off as me, nya.
-There is a way.
-What is it, nya?
-I will entrust the Necromancer's management to Yu Ji-won.
-...
-Even when venting grudge and rage on the Necromancer, it must always be done in front of Yu Ji-won, while she watches.
The awakeners turned to look at Yu Ji-won.
And every last one of them nodded. Indeed. That psychopath without a drop of blood or tears would manage the Necromancer's life splendidly.
And so two years passed.
“Yu Ji-won.”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
“There are no more visitors for today, correct?”
“Correct, Your Excellency. The heat has been severe lately, so I've been arranging the schedule to wrap up business in the morning where possible.”
In the beginning, Sim Ah-ryeon's door had been thronged with those who wished to take revenge on the Necromancer, humanity's traitor.
But around the two-year mark the schedule gradually loosened. Murderous intent and hatred were emotions too, and it wasn't easy for a human to sustain a single emotion forever.
Above all, revenge against the Necromancer permitted, quite literally, only the kind of torture that ground her arms and legs to pulp.
Those who tried to approach the Necromancer with other intentions under the guise of revenge, Yu Ji-won screened out at her own discretion.
Torture was work that demanded evil of the perpetrator too, and there weren't many people willing to prescribe themselves such a deadly poison.
“Ms. Manyo Neko did put in a reservation for this evening. But she's the same all three hundred and sixty-five days of the year, so I expect she'll grant us this one day's grace.”
“I see. Then I'll contact Manyo Neko separately. I'll book Sim Ah-ryeon's evening myself today.”
“As you say. Dispose of it however you wish, Your Excellency.”
The Undertaker looked at Sim Ah-ryeon.
“...”
Why was it? Even as the two of them talked, Sim Ah-ryeon kept watching the Undertaker with a beaming, simpering smile across her whole face.
What on earth was so wonderful about all this? The Undertaker frowned, not wanting to understand.
“...If you haven't developed some obsession with caterpillar cosplay, heal yourself already. If you're going to go around in that state, I've got no choice but to, what, carry you piggyback or something.”
“Aah. P, piggyback. You'll give me a piggyback ride?”
“Dream on.”
“Heehee. Yaah...! Trans! Form!”
The moment Sim Ah-ryeon called out playfully, there came a slithering sound.
From the cut faces of her severed limbs, masses of flesh grew out like vines. The vines wove and tangled together and at once formed the shape of arms and legs.
Sim Ah-ryeon sprang to her feet.
“Boom! Pow!”
“...”
No one laughed.
The Undertaker pressed his lips shut, and to bury the fact that he had pressed his lips shut he hurried to speak.
“Here. Put on some new clothes.”
“Ah. This is... M, more of a hijab than clothes? It's basically just a cloak...?”
“Would you rather walk around with your bare face out? The citizens would throw stones at you the moment they saw you. I've never made a hobby of getting stoned over one traveling companion.”
The Undertaker turned his back and stepped out of the alley. It was his way of giving her space to change.
“Your Excellency.”
Yu Ji-won, too, left Sim Ah-ryeon behind and followed him.
“There's something I need to tell you.”
“You can speak freely.”
“It's about the healing ability the Necromancer just displayed.”
A glance. Yu Ji-won checked the depths of the alley for a moment, then dropped her voice as low as it would go.
“Just a little while ago, she couldn't put out that kind of output.”
“What?”
“Didn't the Necromancer say something about deliberately not healing her arms and legs to stir up sympathy for herself?”
“She did.”
“But that's not it. In reality, she wanted to heal but had no battery left to do it with. With her limbs being shaved down and crushed every single day, even that seemingly infinite healing ability had a limit.”
“...”
The Undertaker blinked. That was how unexpected it was.
“No. What are you saying? You witnessed it up close too, Yu Ji-won. Her arms and legs recovering fully in under ten seconds.”
“Yes. That's exactly why I'm raising the matter.”
“Didn't Sim Ah-ryeon just lie to you? Pretending her healing power was all drained. That girl acts better than you'd think. You have to consider the possibility that you were fooled.”
“Hm. I am considering it, of course.”
Yu Ji-won stroked her chin.
“Still, Your Excellency. I pride myself, for what it's worth, on a natural gift for telling truth from falsehood. As for why a person who only this morning was wilting, barely enduring the torture, suddenly flits about full of energy the moment Your Excellency arrives, that I find hard to guess.”
“...”
The Undertaker's heart stirred.
Again. Again, that unpleasant feeling came over him.
Like the moment he first met Sim Ah-ryeon and draped a doctor's coat over her, like the ten years he spent brainwashing the Saintess.
Deep waters. The sea where he had dropped a heavy anchor in his heart kicked up black waves.
‘Now that I think of it, even the Saintess fretting over Sim Ah-ryeon out of nowhere this morning, was that already strange?'
The Saintess too would have been monitoring Sim Ah-ryeon from time to time with her Clairvoyance.
It wasn't something to brush off easily. Both the Saintess and Yu Ji-won were reporting the same anomalous signs.
And as far as the Undertaker knew, the two of them still ranked among the most trustworthy awakeners.
“...I understand your concern.”
“I beg forgiveness for daring to trouble Your Excellency's mind with such presumptuous words.”
“It's fine. That's your role. As I said, I'll keep Sim Ah-ryeon with me today, so you go on home.”
“Thank you, Your Excellency.”
Yu Ji-won gave a crisp salute and turned to leave. Not a word of complaint. Even in an age like this, she carried herself like the trusted aide who still held the Undertaker's favor.
“...What a mess this all is.”
The Undertaker drew out a cigarette and put it to his lips. On the surface it looked like an ordinary cigarette, but it was in fact a special blend crafted by the Alchemist Uehara Shino.
A little while later.
“Ehehe... I, I'm all dressed!”
“Mm.”
Wrapped head to toe, Sim Ah-ryeon poked her head out of the alley.
Dressed like that, no one would recognize her. The Undertaker took out an ashtray and asked.
“So. Anything you want to eat? Worst case I can rent out a restaurant for us, so say whatever you like.”
“I, I want to eat something the Guild Leader cooked with his own hands... Ah. W, wait a second!”
“...?”
Sim Ah-ryeon came hurrying over. Then she snatched the cigarette from the Undertaker's hand and, of all things, pressed its tip against her own forearm.
The Undertaker froze.
Sssss. The faint sound of searing flesh trailed through the alley like a lingering echo.
“...”
“Ehehe.”
Sim Ah-ryeon was watching the Undertaker's face just like that.
With eyes crinkled into a smile.
“N, now let's go! Guild Leader...”
“...”
They arrived at the Azit.
Walking over while trying to avoid the citizens' eyes where he could, the Undertaker turned things over in his head the whole way.
‘Ah-ryeon, you said you eat people's emotions.'
‘There's no emotion more intense than the grief and hatred of people who have lost family and comrades. So your ability ought to grow stronger.'
‘Why has it weakened, then?'
‘Did I build the Strategy Guide wrong? Or is Sim Ah-ryeon deceiving Yu Ji-won and the Saintess, and beyond them, me?'
But every line of worry came to nothing.
A stifling feeling, somehow never quite hitting the core, had welled up in his heart. Like filth backed up and overflowing from faulty drainage.
“Hwaah. A, as expected. The tteokbokki[1] the Guild Leader makes himself is the best!”
The filth's uneasy stench didn't fade even after he brought Sim Ah-ryeon to the Azit and cooked up this dish and that, even when they sat across from each other at the table.
A tilt of the head. Sim Ah-ryeon, munching down tempura with her tteokbokki, cocked her head.
“Hm? G, Guild Leader, you're not eating?”
“No.”
“B, but it's this delicious. Mm. Then I'll eat all these fried dumplings myself! Strangely, there's a flavor only these cheap fried dumplings that come with tteokbokki have, this damp, chewy thing...”
“Ah-ryeon.”
“Y, yes?”
“Why does your healing ability recover properly only when you meet me?”
“You already know.”
Nom.
Sim Ah-ryeon leaned over, forking up even the Undertaker's share and eating it as if it were nothing, and answered.
“D, does that part really need explaining? Honestly?”
“Explain it.”
“It's because the Guild Leader is the one whose emotions surge most violently when he looks at me.”
“...”
“Other people's emotions are, how do I put it... Mm. It's a bit funny when you think about it, isn't it? Going on about how precious their family and comrades were, and then mixing up the real culprit who drove their family to death... Farmed fish? Stuck in an aquarium, thinking the place they live is the real sea? It makes me laugh just watching, and when I laugh, they get even angrier...”
His chest.
“Honestly, the Ten Legs, the Guild Leader could subjugate them alone if you went all out, couldn't you? The Meteor Shower too... But you deliberately had other people do the subjugating. So, um, there are victims, aren't there. After all. The people who died, too.”
His heart.
“Which means... It's no different from the Guild Leader killing them. The truth is.”
“...”
“B, but people think I killed them. Hwaah. The farmed fish and the bugs in their breeding tanks come thrashing and rubbing themselves against me... And honestly, taking it seriously is a teensy bit... much, right? Hehe.”
The Undertaker pressed his lips shut.
This time he couldn't subdue the silence with words.
No. Even if he had subdued it, it would have meant nothing.
For all that the words went away.
“So that's just it,” she said.
The filth that had filled his chest like a settling tank churned without rest.
“I don't live off the emotions of animals or bugs. I live off the emotions of people.”
“...”
“And when the Guild Leader is the only person left in this world, isn't it only natural that my ability grows stronger when the Guild Leader is around...?”
Quietly.
Feeling stifled, the Undertaker, without thinking, laid a hand over the center of his chest.
His heart was beating.
Footnotes:
[1] Tteokbokki is a popular Korean street food of chewy cylindrical rice cakes simmered in a sweet-and-spicy gochujang (red chili paste) sauce, commonly served with fried side dishes like tempura and dumplings.
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