The Tales of an Infinite Regressor

Chapter 147



Chapter 147

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Godslayer II

3

Once upon a time, there was a Russian-born medical student, Anton Chekhov, who came from a humble background.

Even back then, as it is now, Russia was a frozen land imbued with a strange power. The Homo sapiens of that land had DNA that made them burst with literary talent the more unfortunate their circumstances.

Chekhov died young, at the age of 44, from an incurable disease.

Possessing the trifecta of "Russia," "humble background," and "incurable disease," Chekhov traded his life span for an extraordinary literary gift. It was as if all the evil spirits of Russia whispered to him to become a writer.

Through an extraordinary dark magic, Chekhov transformed into a great literary figure and said:

-If you have a gun hanging on the wall in the first act, it must fire in the last. If it won\'t, don\'t bother hanging it there in the first place.

This is what’s known as "Chekhov\'s gun."

Originally, Chekhov probably just meant to say, "So, writers, make sure to use your foreshadowing effectively."

But as with all dark magic, Chekhov\'s spell unintentionally caused ripple effects.

For reference, Chekhov was active in Siberia, and the air masses formed in Siberia are infamous for striking the Korean Peninsula every winter.

No matter how great a sorcerer, one cannot escape the forces of nature. Chekhov\'s dark magic also rode the wind and landed in Korea.

Let’s consider a specific example.

“Hey, look at this! It’s a gun! A gun!”

“Oh. It must have been dropped by a military unit. Good job finding it, Miro.”

“Hehe.”

There was a happy couple in Seoul.

Even in a world stained with strange occurrences, the couple was living a sweet and romantic life.

Then one day, they found a firearm and magazines that had been dropped by a military unit. The couple thought this was an unbelievable stroke of luck and decided to keep the weapon.

And then...

-Bang!

In less than two weeks, one of them shot and killed the other.

“Ugh... Miro, why...?”

“Sorry. I just don’t have the will to go on anymore. So let’s die and become one.”

“No...”

The couple who had been living a peaceful and happy life suddenly took a dark and tragic turn.

And that wasn’t even the worst of it.

-Bang!

Some families who found guns ended up being shot dead on the same night.

Someone, possessed by something strange in the middle of the night, mistakenly thought they were under attack and slaughtered their entire family.

“Aaaargh!”

As dawn broke, the person who had "defended" against the "enemy" realized that all of the "enemies" were actually their family members. Overcome with despair, they took their own life.

Of course, they used the gun.

There were countless similar cases.

-Anonymous: This survivalist group built a hideout near my town, and they got completely wiped out last night, lol.

-Anonymous: It seems like they had a stockpile of guns, given the non-stop gunfire I heard all night. I got curious and approached their place, but it was a madhouse—yelling, screaming, total chaos.

-Anonymous: They were all from the same hometown and seemed really tight-knit, but it looks like guns were all it took to tear them apart. Crazy stuff.

Now, you might be starting to guess.

That’s right.

The dark magic cast by the Russian author had affected all firearms. Every gun became haunted by the anomaly known as "Chekhov’s gun."

So, in this world, "if a gun exists," it must "go off at a crucial moment."

To be more precise:

Because a gun exists, a "crucial moment" is forcibly created.

The death of a loving couple.

The collapse of a tightly-knit group.

Regardless of the people or the events, if a gun exists, it inevitably creates a defining moment.

Until when? Until the magazine runs out of bullets.

It was a modern-day version of Paris\'s Golden Apple. Wherever a gun existed, discord and tragedy would ensue.

“Hey? Hey? Put that gun down, will you?”

“Shut up! Why should I stay in the army when my family’s all dead? I’ll kill you all too!”

Bang, bang, bang!

The national army, which had once charged toward Seoul with the intent to seize a new throne on the Korean Peninsula, was annihilated in an instant.

Although the ultimate reason was that the "Lonely Gourmet" slaughtered the army in a feast, Chekhov’s gun dealt the final blow.

“No, if we start infighting now, the hope of our people will be wiped out...”

“Hope, my ass! Die! Just die!”

“Someone stop that bastard! Wait, what the hell? Why are you all loading your guns? Are you crazy?”

In simple terms, the entire division erupted in a gunfight. Rumor has it that even the corps commander was caught up in it and killed instantly.

Fortunately, on the Korean Peninsula, firearms were mainly concentrated within military units, so only military strength was lost.

The situation was far more severe in the land of a hundred trillion dollars, i.e., the United States, where every household considered a shotgun an essential item.

Less than a month after the arrival of the void, 50% of the American population had died. If only they had known this would happen in advance, perhaps even the staunchest opponents of gun control might have reconsidered.

And so...

-[Three Thousand] Presiding Judge: This is an announcement to all guild members of the Three Thousand Worlds and all awakened individuals entering Busan. The possession of firearms is strictly prohibited in Busan. Any violation will result in...

[Baekhwa] 13th Grade High School Student: A prohibited firearm has been found in Sejong City! There will be a public execution at the square in front of the government building around noon today! Please come and watch! ;;

Not just in North America, but across the Korean Peninsula—indeed, throughout the entire world—nations began to regulate firearms fiercely.

The crime of gun possession was nearly always punishable by death—99% of the time.

Owning a gun was considered worse than committing murder.

This was understandable. Guns didn’t just kill people; they sowed discord within groups and inevitably led to tragedy.

In a way, the anomaly might have been more aptly named "Enforced Tragedy" rather than its original name, "Chekhov\'s Gun."

That was why, when Cheon Yohwa found a K5 pistol in her hideout, she muttered darkly, "This insane bastard."

4

“And so.”

We searched the entirety of Baekhwa High School. Fortunately, aside from the gun found under the window, there were no other firearms.

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

“Um, we interrogated them and got a confession. The perpetrator had a crush on our school’s vice president.”

Cheon Yohwa sighed.

“But the vice president was dating someone else. That person was the victim of this incident...”

“A love triangle?”

“Well, yes...”

Since it wasn’t directly related to me, I felt more like a detached observer.

“So, was the perpetrator planning to use the gun to kill the victim? Foolish. No matter what they did, they wouldn’t have won the vice president’s love.”

“Ah, it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

Cheon Yohwa scratched her cheek.

“The perpetrator planned to use ‘Chekhov’s Gun’ as a defense for their actions.”

“What?”

“Their plan was this: since our school, Baekhwa High, regularly sends students on expeditions to Seoul, they wanted to pretend they had found the gun by chance while out on the road.”

Cheon Yohwa made a finger gun and mimed shooting it.

“And then, during a patrol, they’d act as if they were possessed by ‘Chekhov’s Gun’ and fired the gun impulsively... Bang!”

“...Acting?”

“Yes. They were going to stage it as if the victim died from a stray bullet.”

“Hah.”

“That way, they’d still face repercussions, but they could use the excuse of being ‘possessed by the anomaly’ to explain their mistake. They figured they wouldn’t be expelled or executed even if they were demoted to first grade. Kids these days are so cunning.”

I was a bit taken aback.

“So, to sum it up, they planned to pretend they were possessed by an anomaly and use that as an excuse to commit murder?”

“Yes. It’s really awful, isn’t it?”

My goodness.

I’d heard stories of people abandoning troublesome guild members during expeditions into the void, but it was rare to see someone so proactively try to use an anomaly as an alibi.

Human malice truly knows no bounds...

“...?”

That’s when it hit me.

The audacity of a student who tried to use "Chekhov’s Gun" to their advantage gave me a sudden realization.

Gun. Ruin. Gun. Exploit. Gun.

Various words intertwined in my mind.

“Huh? Teacher? What’s wrong all of a sudden?”

“...”

“Oh, you’re deep in thought.”

Cheon Yohwa busied herself with her tasks as if this were a familiar occurrence.

It took me about three minutes to organize my thoughts and fully come back to my senses.

During that time, Cheon Yohwa stood by my side like a guardian, as if she were standing watch over a colleague’s meditation.

“Yohwa.”

As soon as I opened my mouth, Cheon Yohwa smiled as if she had been waiting for this. Then she handed me a cup of tea, simply brewed with green tea leaves.

“Yes? You’ve come up with a good idea, haven’t you?”

“Yes. If I play my cards right, I might obtain the most powerful weapon on the Korean Peninsula.”

“The most powerful weapon on the Korean Peninsula...?”

Cheon Yohwa tilted her head in curiosity.

I covered the tea cup with my palm and nodded.

“That’s right. What do you think is the most powerful weapon on the Korean Peninsula?”

“Huh? Um... maybe North Korea’s nuclear missiles?”

“They didn’t even leave a scratch on the Ten Clans and disappeared. Try thinking of a weapon that people can actually use.”

“Ah, then... the Four Tigers’ Sword?”

As expected of the student council president of a prestigious private school, she was well-versed in strange artifacts.

For the record, Cheon Yohwa scored in the top tier (1st grade) in Korean, Math, English, and Korean History on the college entrance exam.

You might wonder how they even held a college entrance exam in a world where the government had collapsed, but, well, every November, anomalies and voids appear in Korea in the form of the "College Scholastic Ability Test."

The questions are bizarre, but Cheon Yohwa managed to achieve near-perfect scores. If you rummage through her bag, you’d even find an "Honorary Seoul University Student ID."

Anyway.

“That sword is quite powerful, but it’s still weaker than my staff-sword. It hasn’t created any real legends. In today’s world, the most powerful weapon is one that has its own ‘story’ strong enough to cut down anomalies.”

"Hmm... I don\'t really get it. I’m not very interested in weapons, but I wonder if such a weapon even exists in our country?"

"There is one."

I smiled.

"Yohwa, have you ever heard of \'The Heart of the Beast\'?"

"What?"

‘The Bullet That Killed a God.’

A German-made Walther PPK pistol.

Serial number 159270.

The strongest treasure on the Korean Peninsula.

The strike that pierced the heart of Yushin.

That\'s right.

The gun that once assassinated the president was now calling out to me, the Doctor Jang, asking to be retrieved.

5

This might be surprising, but the gun responsible for the historic achievement of the \'Presidential Assassination\' was never enshrined in a museum.

In fact, its whereabouts were entirely unknown.

After the Director of the Central Intelligence Agency committed the assassination, the gun was transferred to the Army Forensic Science Laboratory at the Ministry of National Defense.

After the scientific analysis was completed, it was sent to the Security Command, and from there, it was moved to the Army Headquarters.

Finally, after the trial was concluded, it was returned to the Central Intelligence Agency, with the thought, "This gun belongs to another agency, so we should return it, right?"

In South Korea, if an item passes through more than three government agencies, it essentially means that the ownership of that item is forever relinquished.

The ‘strongest treasure on the Korean Peninsula’ was no exception.

Naturally, the PPK pistol went missing.

At the Central Intelligence Agency, they claimed:

- The Security Command confiscated it.

While at the Security Command, they insisted:

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

If this scenario sounds familiar, it\'s not a coincidence. Public servants\' DNA is the same at the local or national level.

But this isn\'t just something to laugh about.

Perhaps the public servants at that time instinctively felt fear in the presence of this cursed demonic sword—no, demonic gun—that killed a god.

It was an abomination that should not have existed on Earth. As mere mortals, they had to return it to the divine realm as quickly as possible.

Yes, the public servants were ultimately correct.

The best way to deal with a curse is to pretend the curse doesn\'t exist.

The South Korean government succeeded in sealing away the cursed artifact in the most prudent manner.

And now, I, the Doctor Jang, needed that artifact. Desperately.

As soon as I parted ways with Cheon Yohwa, I headed north from Sejong City.

And arrived in a certain district in Seoul.

[…Doctor Jang.]

The saintess, who always passed the time by monitoring the CCTV she had installed on me, finally spoke up.

“Yes?”

[Are you really thinking of going in there? I mean, this is the void you always warned me never to enter, right?]

“Yes. It\'s true that you shouldn’t go in, Saintess, but I’ll be fine.”

[…….]

I lightly ignored the saintess\'s silence and looked up at the scene before me.

In the background stood Seoul\'s iconic Namsan Mountain.

And of course, there was a building that had to be there if it was Namsan.

The headquarters of the Central Intelligence Agency. Some might be more familiar with the name \'KCIA,\' the organization’s base of operations.

But now, it had fallen into a void.

That’s right.

As I mentioned in a previous episode, the pinnacle and culmination of genre fiction, known as "Luck Hogging," had come to an end in our world.

All thanks to that treacherous anomaly known as the "Law of the Conservation of Luck."

But how could one mourn such a thing?

After all, fried pork at a specialized Chinese restaurant is always tastier than a buffet. Even if we’re banned from hogging all the dishes, we can still enjoy the best single entrée.

Me, Doctor Jang. I pride myself as a gourmet second only to Tang Seorin and the Ten Clans on the Korean Peninsula.

“Saintess, I’m going to farm the treasure that killed a god today.”

[…….]

“Please watch over me.”

Today, I’m going to feast on the greatest fortune the Korean Peninsula has to offer.


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