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17kNovel > I’m an Infinite Regressor, But I’ve Got Stories to Tell > Chapter 147

Chapter 147

    The God yer II


    There was once a Russian medical student from a poor family named Anton Chekhov. As is often the case, Russia was and filled with a peculiar magic. The more unfortunate the Homo sapiens of thatnd, the more their writing prowess seemed to flourish. Chekhov died young at 44 from an incurable disease. Having grasped the three ursed elements of ''Russia,'' ''poverty,'' and ''incurable disease,'' Chekhov exchanged his life for an extraordinary literary talent. It was as if all the evil spirits of Russia whispered to him to be a writer. Through this grand dark magic, Chekhov emerged as a great literary figure.


    Chekhov once said:


    <strong>"If a gun is hung on the wall in the first act, it must be fired in thest. If not, don''t bother hanging it there."</strong>


    This is known as "Chekhov''s Gun." Chekhov probably intended to say, "Use foreshadowing well, you writers." However, as with all dark magic, Chekhov''s spell had unintended aftereffects. Incidentally, Chekhov worked in Siberia, and the weather patterns originating from there are famous for affecting the Korean Penins every winter. Even the greatest sorcerers cannot escape meteorological phenomena. Chekhov''s dark magic, too, rode the winds andnded on the Korean Penins.


    Here is a concrete example.


    “Hey! Look at this! It’s a gun!”


    “Wow. A military unit must have dropped it. Good job! Thanks to you, we found it.”


    “Hehe.”In Seoul, there was a loving couple. Despite the apocalypse filled with anomalies, they were living a pure love story. One day, they found a gun and ammunition left behind by a military unit. The couple, thinking it was a great find, took the weapon.


    And then.


    -Bang!


    Less than two weekster, one shot the other.


    “Ugh... Miro, why...?”


    “Sorry, Oppa. I don''t have the will to live anymore. So let''s die together.”


    “No...”


    The couple, who had been living a happy love story, suddenly plunged into a tragic tale. This was just the tip of the iceberg.


    -Bang!


    Another family found a gun and that very night, the entire family was shot dead. Someone, bewitched by an anomaly, hallucinated that enemies were attacking from all directions and massacred their family.


    “Aaaaah!”


    By dawn, realizing that the ''enemies'' they killed were actually their family, the person took their own life with the same gun. Simr cases were countless.


    -Anonymous: There’s a group of survivors who built a hideout next to my neighborhood, butst night they got totally wrecked lol.


    -Anonymous: I heard gunshots all night. Seems like they had a stockpile of guns. When I checked, they were screaming and shouting like crazy.


    -Anonymous: They looked like a tight-knit group from the same hometown, but one gun destroyed them all.


    You get the idea.


    That''s right.


    The dark magic cast by the Russian writer ensnared all firearms. Every gun became haunted by the anomaly known as "Chekhov’s Gun."


    In this world, if a gun existed, it would inevitably be fired at a crucial moment. More precisely, crucial moments were forcibly created because of the gun''s presence.


    Lovers’ deaths. The copse of close-knit groups. Regardless of the people or events, if a gun existed, it would invariably lead to dramatic moments until the ammunition ran out. It was a modern-day version of Paris’s Golden Apple. Wherever a gun existed, discord and tragedy ensued.


    “Hey, put down that gun!”


    “Shut up! My family’s dead! Why should I stay in the army? You all die too!”


    -Bang, bang, bang!


    The South Korean military, once advancing towards Seoul to im the throne of the Korean Penins, was swiftly annihted. While the Ten Legs devouring the military yed a major role, the final blow was delivered by Chekhov’s Gun.


    “If we start an internal conflict here, we’ll lose all hope...”


    “Hope? Screw that! Die!”


    “Stop him! Why are you all loading your guns too? Are you insane?”


    In short, the entire unit erupted in gunfire. Rumor had it that even the divisionmander was killed in the crossfire. Fortunately, firearms in South Korea were concentrated in military units, so only military power was lost. The USA, however, where every household deemed a shotgun essential, faced severe consequences. Within a month of the apocalypse, 50% of Americans had died. If they had known this would happen, even the staunchest opponents of gun control might have reconsidered.


    Thus,


    -[Samcheon] WitchJudge: This is a notice to all members of the Samcheon World guild and all awakened individuals entering Busan. Firearms are strictly prohibited in Busan. Vition will result in...


    -[Baekhwa]13thGrader: An illegal firearm was found in Sejong City! There will be a public execution in front of the government building at lunchtime today. Please show your support! (>_<);;


    Not just North America, but the entire world, including the Korean Penins, began rigorously regting firearms. Possession of a firearm was almost a guaranteed death sentence. Killing someone was bad, but possessing a gun was worse. Guns didn''t just kill; they sowed discord and ensured tragedy. In a way, "Chekhov''s Gun" was less fitting a name than "Forced Tragedy Ensurer."


    This was why Cheon Yo-hwa muttered, “This crazy bastard,” upon discovering a K5 pistol in her guild.


    “Now then.”


    We thoroughly searched Baekhwa High School. Thankfully, there were no other firearms besides the one found in the window frame.


    “Why did your guild member collect and hide a K5 pistol?”


    “Well, we interrogated her with some waterboarding. She had a crush on the vice president of our student council.”


    Cheon Yo-hwa sighed.


    “But the vice president is dating someone else. That person was the victim in this case...”


    “A love triangle?”


    “Yes, something like that...”


    This story felt distant from my own experiences, making me feel like an observer.


    “So, the perpetrator nned to kill the victim with the gun? Foolish. She wouldn’t gain the vice president’s love that way.”


    “Well... It’s a bit moreplicated.”


    Cheon Yo-hwa scratched her cheek.


    “She nned to use ''Chekhov''s Gun'' to justify her actions.”


    “What?”


    “Her n was to pretend she found the gun while we were on one of our regr patrols in Seoul. Then, during patrol, she would act like she was possessed by ''Chekhov’s Gun'' and identally shoot the victim.”


    Cheon Yo-hwa made a finger gun and mimicked firing.


    “She intended to disguise it as an idental shooting caused by the anomaly.”


    “Acting?”


    “Yes, acting. She thought that by pretending it was an idental discharge, she could argue that she was possessed by the anomaly. She figured she might face demotion but wouldn’t be expelled or executed. Kids these days are so cunning.”


    I was somewhat astonished.


    “So, she nned to disguise a murder as an ident caused by an anomaly?”


    “Yes. Isn’t it terrible?”


    Incredible. I had heard stories of guild members abandoning annoying colleagues during explorations, but rarely did someone actively n to use an anomaly as a cover for murder. Human malice truly had no limits.


    “......”


    At that moment, something clicked in my mind.


    A student''s idea of using ''Chekhov''s Gun'' sparked a realization.


    Gun. Destruction. Gun. Malice. Gun.


    Various words intertwined in my mind.


    “Teacher? Are you okay?”


    “......”


    “Oh, you’re deep in thought.”


    Cheon Yo-hwa, familiar with this sight, went about her business. It took me about three minutes to fully process my revtion. During that time, Cheon Yo-hwa stood guard as if protecting a meditating colleague.


    “Yo-hwa.”


    As soon as I spoke, Cheon Yo-hwa smiled, as if she had been waiting. She handed me a cup of tea brewed with green tea leaves.


    “Yes. Did youe up with something good?”


    “Yes. If all goes well, I might acquire the strongest weapon on the Korean Penins this time.”


    “The strongest weapon on the Korean Penins?”


    Cheon Yo-hwa tilted her head.


    I covered the cup with my palm and nodded.


    “Yes. Yo-hwa, what do you think is the strongest weapon on the Korean Penins?”


    “Hm? Uh, let’s see... North Korean nuclear missiles?”


    “Those didn’t even scratch the Ten Legs and disappeared. Think of a weapon more practical for human use.”


    “Um... The Four Tiger Evil-Cutting Sword?”


    As expected of the student council president of a prestigious private school, she was knowledgeable about peculiar artifacts. Incidentally, Cheon Yo-hwa scored top marks in Korean, Math, English, and Korean History on the college entrance exam. In case you’re wondering how she took the exam in a copsed world, well, a unique anomaly and void appear in Korea every November called the "College Schstic Ability Test." Despite the bizarre questions, Cheon Yo-hwa achieved near-perfect scores. If you searched her bag, you’d even find an ''Honorary Seoul National University Student ID.''


    In any case,


    “That sword is quite powerful, but it’s still weaker than my cane-sword. It never created any true legends. The strongest weapon today is one that holds a powerful ''story'' capable of defeating anomalies.”


    “Um... I don’t quite get it. I’m not very interested in weapons. Did our country ever have such a weapon?”


    “There is one.”


    I smiled.


    “Yo-hwa, have you ever heard of ''The Heart of a Beast''?”


    “The Heart of a Beast?”


    The bullet that killed a god. A German-made Walther PPK pistol. Serial number 159270. The strongest treasure on the Korean Penins. The bullet that pierced the heart of Yu-sin.


    That’s right. The gun that assassinated the former president was calling out to me, the Undertaker, toe and im it.


    Surprisingly, the firearm that achieved the monumental feat of ''assassinating a president'' wasn’t preserved in a museum. Its whereabouts werepletely unknown.


    After the assassination by the head of the Central Intelligence Agency, the pistol was moved to the Army Forensic Science Laboratory. After forensic analysis, it went to the Security Command, then to Army Headquarters. After the trial concluded, it was supposed to be returned to the Central Intelligence Agency.


    In Korea, when an item passes through more than three government agencies, it means its ownership is eternally relinquished. The ''strongest treasure on the Korean Penins'' was no exception. Naturally, the Walther PPK pistol vanished.


    The Central Intelligence Agency imed:


    -The Security Command confiscated it.


    The Security Command asserted:


    -We returned it to the Central Intelligence Agency long ago.


    If this scene seems familiar, it’s not a coincidence. Bureaucrats everywhere share the same DNA.


    However, it’s not just a matter for ridicule. Facing a cursed demon gun... no, a demon pistol, the bureaucrats might have instinctively felt fear. It was a monstrous relic that shouldn’t exist in this world. Mere mortals were eager to send it back to the divine realm.


    Yes. The bureaucrats were right. The wisest way to deal with a curse was to pretend it didn’t exist. The Korean government seeded in sealing the cursed relic using the most sensible method.


    And now, I, the Undertaker, needed that relic. Desperately.


    Immediately after parting ways with Cheon Yo-hwa, I headed north from Sejong City. I arrived in a district of Seoul.


    […Mr. Undertaker.]


    The Saintess, who often spent her time monitoring my activities through the countless CCTV cameras she had set up, finally spoke.


    “Yes?”


    [Are you really nning to enter there? You’ve always warned me not to enter that void.]


    “Yes. You shouldn’t go in, but I can.”


    [......]


    I ignored the Saintess’s silence and looked up at the scene before me. In the background stood Namsan, andmark of Seoul. Naturally, there was a building that should be there.


    The headquarters of the Central Intelligence Agency, or the more familiar "Agency for National Security nning" for some. Now, it was a void.


    That’s right.


    As mentioned in the previous story, the pinnacle of genre literature, "monopolizing opportunities," had met its end in our world. The sinister anomaly known as the Total Luck Law saw to that. But why grieve? A specialized Chinese restaurant’s sweet and sour pork is better than a buffet’s. Even if monopolizing all dishes was forbidden, enjoying the best one was enough. I, the Undertaker, prided myself as a gourmet, second only to Dang Seo-rin and the Ten Legs on the Korean Penins.


    “Saintess, I’m going to farm the ''weapon that yed a god.''”


    [.....]


    “Please watch over me.”


    Today, I was going to im the greatest treasure on the Korean Penins.


    Footnotes:


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