Chapter 179
The Existentialist I
Since the Ark was featured in the previous chapter, I thought I’d continue discussing ‘ships’ this time as well. Of course, there aren’t many ships that boast worldwide fame like the Ark. (If we limit it to the Korean Peninsula, the Turtle Ship is one that can compete.)
The ship I’m covering this time is both famous and not so famous. It’s called ‘Theseus’s Ship.’[1]
Before diving into the main story,
Astute readers might have noticed that I haven’t included the introduction “This chapter happened in the XXX cycle” for a while. To clarify, the story of the Super Monsoon anomaly leading the redevelopment of Busan was from the 664th cycle. In other words, it took place while the regressor called the Undertaker was evolving from an experienced player to a fossil fuel. Calling him a ‘munchkin’ then would not have been an exaggeration.[2]
However, today’s story will focus on a much earlier time.[Mr. Undertaker, while you took a brief visit to Okinawa last time, I saw with Clairvoyance a massive typhoon moving toward the Philippines.]
“A massive typhoon?”
[Yes. It seemed to be at least 1,000 kilometers in diameter and reached the boundary of the troposphere.]
“What is that? How terrifying...”
One of the taboos in subculture plots is having a strong protagonist become weak again. In the past, martial arts stories often featured protagonists falling off cliffs, losing their memories, or having their energy cores shattered. Such lazy plots cannot survive in today’s wild subculture market.
But in my story, it’s entirely possible. Like now, I can talk about cycle 664 and then “regress” to cycle 239, making my character legitimately weaker.
At that time, I didn’t have the ability to cross the Pacific Ocean with my bare body (people would call me crazy if I did), I had no idea about the Super Monsoon anomaly, and of course, I couldn’t have imagined that the Saintess would suddenly transform into a potato while out for a walk.
Even for a regressor, imagining that was difficult.
However, strange events at a similar level kept intruding upon my life, both then and now.
“Master Noh Do-hwa! It’s an emergency! Please quickly make a prosthetic!”
“Damn it...”
Of course, from Noh Do-hwa’s perspective, I must have been the uninvited guest in her life. One must always adopt a relativistic perspective to maintain stable human relationships.
“This isn’t just a patient, this person is on the verge of death. Damn it, how am I supposed to meet this deadline...?”
One day in the 239th cycle. I went to see Noh Do-hwa, who was carrying a severely injured person. From now on, let’s call this patient Patient A. Noh Do-hwa grumbled but immediately halted her duties as the National Road Management Corps Leader and began to save Patient A.
In the post-apocalyptic world, the President of the Korean Peninsula also served as the 24-hour emergency room duty officer.
“..., ...”
As Noh Do-hwa said, the patient was in a quantum state between life and death. Their entire body was covered in blood, with limbs having flown away in search of freedom and a heart that was thoroughly pierced. You could almost call it a miracle that death had not yet been confirmed.
Of course, it wasn’t a miracle from the heavens. The apocalyptic world was basically like a yandere character with a favorability rating of -100 towards humanity. What’s the point of a yandere without favorability? Exactly. It’s no different from a common murderer.
“How did this happen?”
“They are from a small guild. They were exploring the Void near Gimhae and encountered the ‘Code of Hammurabi’ anomaly. This person killed the anomaly’s heart in exchange for losing their own.”
“Huh. Such sacrifice... They’re lucky to be alive.”
“The other guild members performed CPR for an hour. The training was tough, but it paid off. I received the distress call and brought them here because it was closer than Pyongyang.”
Cardiopulmonary resuscitation (CPR).
It was always important, but after the Aura Healing Technique became essential knowledge for Awakeners, it became even more crucial. Now, Awakeners didn’t just rely on weak palm-pumping to save a heart. They used the mystic aura of the apocalypse.
Even in extreme cases such as when the heart stopped—or like now, was missing—emergency treatment was possible. Awakeners could use aura to forcibly regulate oxygen and carbon dioxide and circulate blood and, in turn, keep someone alive for hours.
How long? Until aura ran out.
Of course, circulating human blood throughout the body wasn’t as easy as it sounded. It required very precise aura control.
These days, job markets didn’t favor those who just piled up aura indiscriminately. In critical situations (which happened 90% of the time in the Void), guilds wanted people whose aura control was delicate enough to take responsibility for their own lives and the lives of their teammates.
And who developed and introduced this comprehensive Aura Healing Technique into the job market as a required subject?
Who else but me, the Undertaker.
It’s no wonder I was respected by most Awakeners in most cycles. If I suggested establishing the National Road Management Corps, all the guild leaders across the country would agree. They were practically my external disciples.
Anyway.
“Arms, legs, and heart. Master, please make the heart first, and the limbs later. Meanwhile, I’ll keep the patient alive.”
Sighing, Noh Do-hwa adjusted her monocle and took out her tools. “Hang in there for 60 more minutes...”
Noh Do-hwa’s awakening ability—[Prosthetic Creation]. An ability that made the prosthetics work ‘as if they were part of the original body’.
Initially used mainly to make artificial legs and arms, it was gradually applied to more “sophisticated” body parts as the cycles progressed.
Now, when Awakeners joined a guild, they almost always took ‘body photos’. These body photos captured not only the external appearance but also the internal organs like the brain, heart, lungs, and other internal organs. Guilds sent these body photos to the National Road Management Corps for registration, and for a simple reason: so that in emergencies, like now, Noh Do-hwa could make body parts as close to the original as possible. A kind of insurance, in a way.
Needless to say, Noh Do-hwa was very busy.
It was easier to find a healer than to request a prosthetic from her, who had a workload like that of Zhuge Liang. But what if the heart was gone? There were very few healers who could treat that. At best, the Saintess villain from the north.
Severely injured patients—practically dead but barely kept alive by their comrades’ aura—had a chance of survival only with Sim Ah-ryeon or Noh Do-hwa.
Just like this case.
“I’ve made it. Cut the chest open.”
“Done.”
As you might expect, I had to commend Noh Do-hwa. For the apocalyptic Korean Peninsula, she acted as a pseudo-government leader, took care of the elderly, and treated emergency patients who lost their hearts every few days. What couldn’t she do?
“Fortunately, the blood vessels are relatively intact. No, they’re too intact...”
“That’s because the Code of Hammurabi only exchanged the heart. It’s not an external injury.”
“I see. Then, I’ll attach it...” Noh Do-hwa transplanted the artificial heart. Sweat dripped from her chin, a sign of how focused she was on Patient A.
“The heart is properly positioned,” I said.
“Attach it with aura.”
“Okay. I’ll keep circulating blood with aura until the heartbeat returns. One, two, three.”
Thump!
Patient A’s body jolted.
Noh Do-hwa and I, used to such procedures, continued the surgery smoothly.
“Reduce the aura bit by bit.”
“70% reduced. Respiratory rate is normal. Heartbeat has a regular rhythm. No issues.”
“Reduce more.”
“50% reduced. No issues. The patient’s Aura is faintly returning. It’s repelling my aura.”
“Reduce significantly. Slowly...”
“Yes. 30%, 20%, 10%, 1%. No issues. Repelling stopped. Stopping aura infusion.”
I gently stopped the Aura connection I had maintained for nearly two hours.
“......”
“......”
Noh Do-hwa and I quietly watched over the patient on the bed.
We didn’t use the commonly seen vital sign monitors, the so-called beep-beep-beep patient monitoring devices. Absolutely not. Never.
As mentioned before, electronic devices were dangerous in today’s world. They were all contaminated when the Void came. If we used a vital sign monitor, no matter how good the patient’s condition was, soon it would be this:
Beep-beep-beep-beep— Beeeeeeeep—
And the heart would stop.
They were no longer treatment tools but killing machines.
It’s absurd, but what can we do? That’s the state of our world. Even in such a world, those who could be saved had to be saved.
“One minute passed. No issues.”
“...”
“Three minutes passed. No issues. Pulse, pupil constriction, all normal. Checking consciousness.”
My dark aura forcibly raised the patient’s consciousness.
Huff— the patient took a deep breath.
“Huff, huff... Where, where am I...?”
“Can you hear me, patient?”
“Yes, I can... I can hear you...”
“What’s your name?”
“Ah... Reom...”
I nodded. “Consciousness is clear. No contamination from the Void detected. You can rest assured now, Master Noh Do-hwa.”
“Whew...” Noh Do-hwa slumped into a chair. She looked too exhausted to speak.
I tactfully went outside, made iced coffee, and handed it to her. For a moment, she seemed to consider pouring it over me but then just drank it.
“I’m going to die at this rate...” she complained.
“It’s okay. Everyone is like that.”
“Damn it, it’s work overload. I’m serious. We need to delegate more authority to Manager Yu Ji-won or something to reduce the workload...”
“Master Noh Do-hwa. Do you know what we call Ji-won if she has more authority than she does now?”
“I don’t know, a monster? A dictator? Is this the start of your ‘I’ve seen this happen before in a previous cycle’ speech?”
“What if it is?”
Splash!
Even as an experienced regressor, there were a few things I hadn’t anticipated.
First, coffee could be poured even when half-drunk.
Second was Patient A, whom we had saved.
“Thank you! Corps Leader! Undertaker!”
By the way, this person’s real name was Ah Reum. Their given name was ‘Reum’ and the surname was ‘Ah’. Quite rare on the Korean Peninsula.
“I’ll live harder for the life you saved! Thank you so much!”
Patient A thanked us, but none of us took it to heart. Usually, Awakeners who lost their hearts would retreat. The Void was too terrifying.
No one blamed them. Losing limbs was nothing to the heroes, but when it came to the heart or brain, they acknowledged retirement.
But Patient A was extremely dedicated.
One month later.
“Master Noh Do-hwa! It’s an emergency! Please quickly make a prosthetic!”
“Damn it...”
I kicked open the door of the National Road Management Corps main office meeting room.
Noh Do-hwa, who was in the middle of a meeting with other managers, cursed. She inspected the patient and cursed even more.
“Wait a minute. Damn it. This face looks familiar. Isn’t this the person who lost all their limbs and their heart last month...?”
“Yes, it’s them.”
“After such injuries, they went into the Void again? And now their head is half gone...?”
“Surviving this would be a miracle. They encountered a Basilisk. We have their brain photos. Please make it as similar as possible.”
“Damn it...”
Surprisingly, Noh Do-hwa could even make an ‘artificial brain’—but only one hemisphere at a time. As long as one hemisphere was intact, the artificial one could work normally. If the entire brain was gone, even her S-class prosthetics were useless.
We didn’t know why, nor did we want to. In this era, ignorance was power. Francis Bacon wasn’t a name but a misprint of ‘France is Bacon’.[3]
“Thank you! Corps Leader! Undertaker! I’ll live harder for the life you saved! Thank you so much!”
“Oh, yes. Just live safely...”
Once again, Noh Do-hwa saved Patient A, who had lost their left brain.
Now, Patient A had a prosthetic for the left brain, heart, left arm, right arm, left leg, and right leg. At this point, one would be hard-pressed to call them a Homo sapien. But, well, sometimes you see people with sunflowers for heads on the road. Artificial humans were relatively acceptable.
The problem was what happened next.
“Master Noh Do-hwa! It’s an emergency! Please quickly make a prosthetic!”
“......”
Two months later.
Noh Do-hwa, who was enjoying her privacy in the basement wine cellar, made a sour face at the sight of the patient I brought.
“Damn it, are you kidding me? It’s that person again...?”
Our Patient A was missing their right brain this time. What a coincidence.
In my long life, this was a first. Who loses all limbs and their heart, goes back to the Void, loses the left brain, goes back again, and loses the right brain?
But a regressor’s life is not arithmetic but statistics. Madmen existed, and such insane scenarios occurred.
“So, are you going to save them or not?”
“Damn it, I’ll save them. But... this means alternating the left and right brains with prosthetics. What will happen? This is my first time doing this...”
“Relax. It’s my first time too.”
“Wow. That reassures me so much, you damned regressor...”
Anyway, Noh Do-hwa made the right brain, and successfully attached it to Patient A.
It almost had us thinking our job was being Patient A’s personal doctors.
Eventually, we became the first medical team in history to replace an entire human brain with an artificial one.
“Patient, can you hear me?”
“......”
“What’s your name?”
“......”
Blink, blink.
Patient A opened their eyes. Their heartbeat was normal, and intelligence was evident in their eyes.
“My name is Ah Reum.”
I patted Noh Do-hwa’s shoulder, celebrating the success of this absurd surgery.
But then.
“But, what exactly is ‘Ah Reum’?”
In hindsight, it might have been better if the surgery had failed.
“Pardon?”
“I have the name Ah Reum. But is the Ah Reum of 10 years ago the same person as the Ah Reum now?”
Patient A spoke methodically with a strangely foreign voice.
“What about the Ah Reum of 10 seconds ago? The Ah Reum of 1 second ago? The Ah Reum of 1 second later? Who am I? What am I?”
“......”
Yes.
At that moment, a new anomaly was born in the world.
Footnotes:
[1] The Ship of Theseus is a thought experiment that asks whether an object is the same object after all its components have been replaced over time.
[2] Munchkin refers to an OP character, and often one who is cliché.
[3] Francis Bacon coined the phrase “knowledge is power.”
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