NOVEL NEXT Chapter 212
Episode 212: Low-Grade Nietzsche, Park Jeong-yong
At the endlessly serious nonsense I spouted, Yuria was initially very flustered.
However, unexpectedly, she seriously helped me puzzle through it. She must have been over-engaged in the position of listening to something akin to a confession, as if she’d taken it as a personal mission.
Soon, Yuria raised her finger and began firing off questions.
“Um… is there some kind of monster among the people around you?”
“Yeah.”
“Is the monster only hiding among the people you remember?”
“Hmm… I don’t think so.”
Just because someone exists in my memory doesn’t mean I necessarily know them. For instance, there’s ‘Yona,’ who I just met at the orphanage. I didn’t know her at all, which was why her face was a blur to me, but my subconscious included her in this nightmare.
‘Thus, even those who I currently have no memory of, but who have left an impact on my subconscious, can easily appear.’
Everything that has appeared in this dream could very well be fragments of this nightmare. It doesn’t have to be people; it could be any kind of object.
As I roughly explained all this to her, Yuria let out an uncomfortable sigh.
“Is there definitely a monster? Isn’t it possible there isn’t?”
“It’s definitely there. Let’s assume that catching them is the only way I can survive in this world.”
“Eck?!”
At this, Yuria’s eyes widened in shock.
This was a pretty intense reaction from someone who didn’t seem to believe me earlier.
I imagine if I asked her something like “Who would win in a fight between me and Krillin?” she’d have a meltdown. Definitely someone who becomes deeply engrossed.
“S-so, you absolutely have to kill it? If you don’t kill it, the hero dies?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s harsh. That’s really cruel.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah, it is. You’d be stabbing something that looks like someone precious to you.”
“It’s a monster.”
“B-but it looks exactly like someone precious.”
“But it’s a monster.”
“Urgh, fine…”
What is this? Have I become so accustomed to surviving in a harsh environment, whether on Earth or in another world, that I no longer recognize hardship? I don’t really feel like this is cruel at all. In fact, it seems ridiculously beneficial, like I’ve somehow become VIP without noticing.
I sent Yuria, who was worriedly staring at me, a wry smile.
“Wouldn’t do it to survive? It’s not like you’re killing someone you truly cherish. It’s just a monster disguised as someone.”
“Well… aren’t you troubled by this at all?”
“Anything you want to achieve requires sacrifice, right? That’s what I’ve learned from experience. That’s how everything in life works.”
I began this conversation casually, but the conclusion was anything but light.
Yes. I’ve come this far by standing on countless sacrifices. Many have died, and while some will survive because of my decisions ahead, others are surely going to die.
Perhaps that’s why I feel this quest is such a blessing.
“This is nothing. It’s a bargain, especially since only I need to suffer.”
Because this is a nightmare that materializes from my own mind, no one else will get dragged into this. That’s why I was immediately able to suspect and stab the monster that had taken on the appearance of my father.
It doesn’t matter what form the opponent takes. Whether I succeed or fail in determining if it’s a fragment of the nightmare…
When I stab it, it’s me who feels the pain.
“Very admirable.”
Yuria responded with those words.
She looked at me directly with a straightforward gaze and smiled softly.
“To be someone who can say that, I think you’re truly remarkable, Hero.”
I felt my face heat up for a moment.
Is it my hidden desire to hear words of comfort from a cute girl like her? That’s so embarrassing.
After thinking about it for a moment, I shook my head.
“… No.”
No. This isn’t what I originally wanted to hear.
There was someone I deeply wanted to say this to, and that was my dad, who had always lived a simple life.
Unfortunately, he had already crossed the three paths to find his wife. So, now I live with the goal of becoming a person worthy of hearing such words.
“I may be great, but I’m a sucker.”
I said this self-deprecatingly.
In reality, I’ve only ever heard the word “sucker” during my life. But if fulfilling my late father’s way of life is the goal, I have no complaints.
However, Yuria shook her head firmly and raised her gaze higher.
“He’s not a sucker. Everything you said is true.”
Following her gaze, my eyes moved as well.
Above the main altar in the church, there was a piece of art on the wall – the Pietà.
The artwork depicts the Virgin Mary cradling the dead Jesus, expressing the greatest sorrow.
“…”
That painting. There was an identical one hanging in the orphanage.
That’s why I remember it clearly.
“There’s no world without tears, pain, or sorrow. For some to be happy, someone else’s happiness must necessarily be sacrificed.”
Yuria stared at the Pietà for a while. Then, she met my eyes.
With a bittersweet smile, she spoke.
“The only one who could create a world where everyone is happy might be God.”
“… God?”
“Yes. God.”
“God.”
As I repeated this single word over and over in my mouth, I became hypnotized.
I lifted my gaze to the altar once more. The figure of the dead Christ and the Virgin Mary with her eyes closed hung on the wall as if alive.
I stared blankly at it for a while… and then I realized.
“Thank you, Holy Madonna.”
The existence capable of creating a world where everyone is happy.
It would be wonderful if it existed, but there’s no way it ever could.
God. Right. That’s it.
“That’s it.”
The reason I’ve felt so uneasy in the church all this time – I’ve finally found the answer.
I immediately jumped onto the altar, leapt again, and rushed toward the painting.
Swishing. I pulled out my sushi knife and gripped it backward. And then I screamed in a fit of rage.
“God is dead, you bastards!!”
There may or may not be a God in this alternative world, but there’s no way there’s one on Earth. If by chance there was, I wouldn’t forgive him.
That’s right. A church? What a ridiculous, absurd building. There’s no way its existence makes sense in my memories.
It had only felt strange to me because it was revolting.
“Sashimi of Nietzsche!!”
Hwahk. The bizarre technique name accompanied the sushi knife as it plunged deep into the painting. It hit the Virgin Mary’s forehead precisely.
The material of the painting seemed solid, yet the blade sank in with a soft, unpleasant squelching sensation.
-Khaha. Took that hit, did I?
The Virgin Mary inside the painting grinned with a smile that stretched to her ears and spoke with a sneer.
Drip drip. The painting slowly melted, revealing a collapsed, formless black monster underneath.
-So you’re still the offspring of the holy maid, even if you’re corrupted, huh? I never imagined a fragment of my memories could interfere with me.
It was a fragment of the nightmare.
My guess had been right yet again.
-Be careful with the remaining one, dreamer. The resistance won’t be easy… Khuhuhu.
“Speak and I’ll know what to do.”
I poked its belly impatiently, urging it to leave as soon as possible.
The fragment of the nightmare disappeared slowly, leaving only an unpleasant laugh behind it.
[Notification: Fragment of Nightmare defeated.]
[Condition 1: ‘Fragment of Nightmare’ Hunted (2/3) – Not fulfilled yet.]
As expected, the panel appeared.
Success in the hunt. The second fragment of the nightmare disappeared.
‘Now there’s only one left.’
I deftly rotated the sushi knife and slipped it back into the inner pocket of my parka.
The sense of accomplishment made me tremble briefly, and I immediately prepared to search for the next fragment of the nightmare.
Then, a thud. From beside me, I heard the sound of someone falling on the floor.
“Huh? Uh… Ah… Wa, What was that just now? Was that… a monster?”
It was Yuria. She was struggling to believe the events she’d just witnessed, murmuring in a trembling voice.
Her delicate finger pointed at the painting melting in real-time.
“Yo, Hero… Wait! Everything we’ve talked about until now… was… real?”
Perturbed, her fearful gaze quickly turned toward me.
I thought for a moment about how to explain it to her, then roughly patted her black hair. The soft sensation felt so real.
“You’d probably make a good nun. You’re doing better than I expected.”
“Wha… Wait, that’s not what I’m talking about! What about that thing just now! That monster…!”
I decided not to say anything.
I drew a cross over her head as she collapsed where she stood, then smoothly walked out of the church.
“I owe you a lot, Sister. Go to heaven. I’m just going to the damn hell.”
“No, Hero! Wait a moment!”
Yuria shouted frantically to stop me.
Of course, I shrugged and ignored her cleanly.
*
“So, how do I get rid of the last one?”
After about a 10-minute walk from the church, I was back in the center of Hwaseong.
Even in the midst of a dream, I was seized with intense thirst after some intense exertions. I bought a cola from a nearby convenience store, drank it, and now I stood engrossed in thought.
Just then.
“Uh… Big Brother? Is that you, Jung Yong?”
A woman’s voice called my name from behind.
Could it be Seseona or Seop Baek again? My heart felt as if it was jumping out of my throat, and I dropped the soda can. I whipped around, startled.
My breath eased.
“Alright, so it’s not them.”
As expected, there was a woman, but I didn’t recognize her face.
A Korean woman of my age with lush hair reaching her shoulders and clear eyes stood there.
She gasped and paused before her face lit up with a radiant smile and she took a step forward.
“Wow! It really is Jung Yong! Meeting you here is incredible! Do you remember me?”
Judging from how I’ve referred to her as ‘her’ or ‘the woman’ so far, it’s obvious I don’t remember her at all.
Is she also like Yona? A Schrödinger’s her, produced by my subconscious?
“Seriously, don’t you remember? We worked together in Pyeongtaek not too long ago!”
When I showed signs that I didn’t remember, she seemed shocked.
Her shoulders slumped as she began to lecture me, clearly upset.
“Why don’t you remember, Big Brother? I haven’t forgotten it since that day… And why didn’t you reply to all my messages! Did you ignore me on purpose?!”
“W-what day was that? What… messages? Oh.”
Ah, yeah. I remember now.
At her mercurial expression, something stirred in the recesses of my memory.
I slowly recited her identity.
“You worked at that taekwondo dojo… and got harassed by our team leader?”
Ah, it was that girl I briefly worked with on a labor site long ago.
The identity of the girl standing there puffing her cheeks out in front of me was just that.