Chapter 2
Chapter 2 – In the Land of Death
Hogu Byeolseong.
The goddess of smallpox, once called “Mama.”
Humans, bowing their heads and praying, could only hope for mercy from this terrible goddess of pestilence.
The most famous myth about her is the Ferryman Myth.
One day, Hogu Byeolseong, wanting to cross a river, called for a ferryman.
But the ferryman, seeing only her beautiful appearance, made an absurd proposition.
He dared to ask the goddess, “If you spend a night with me, I’ll ferry you across for free.”
Enraged, Hogu Byeolseong immediately cut off the ferryman’s head and threw it into the river.
Still not satisfied, she went to the ferryman’s house and killed his three sons as well.
She wiped out his entire lineage.
Gangrim, my mentor, had said this about her:
—If we are the inevitable deaths that cannot be avoided, then pestilence is the disease that makes even the occasional avoidable death a misery.
Indeed.
It wasn’t just the ferryman.
She was also infamous for the story of Kim Jangja’s son, whom she cursed with a plague for slighting her.
When Kim Jangja sensed trouble and left his son at a temple, Hogu Byeolseong tricked the child by mimicking his mother’s voice.
Then, she cursed the innocent child— making him suffer from all sorts of diseases until he eventually died.
It was only after Kim Jangja, having lost his son, pleaded desperately that she revived the child.
In the end, her mercy depended solely on her whims.
Sometimes, a lingering illness that wouldn’t heal was more agonizing than death itself.
…But.
For some reason, this eerie goddess had now appeared as a formidable ally.
“Hey, you bastard! You have the nerve to wear a human face and do this?! Demolishing someone’s grave?!”
“No, no, ma’am, that’s not it!”
Hogu Byeolseong grabbed the official by the collar and shook him.
The official was much larger than her, so the sight of him being shaken like a shrimp was comical.
“Ma’am, please, this is… ugh…!”
The helplessly shaking official gasped for air.
His face had turned purple, perhaps due to the miasma surrounding him.
Did they say that evil spirits unconsciously emit miasma?
I remembered Gangrim, who always became extremely displeased whenever I mentioned her.
He said that even the evil spirits themselves sometimes couldn’t control the power of pestilence.
That’s why, in the past, whenever a plague broke out, there were always one or two Chasa who collapsed from overwork.
It was even said that the ones who welcomed the advent of vaccines the most were the Chasa, who often died alongside humans during epidemics.
…While telling me this, Gangrim repeatedly emphasized that I should never associate with evil spirits.
And now, I was face-to-face with one.
“No, ma’am, please let go of me! Ugh!”
“Let go? What then?! Are you going to remove that dung-cart?!”
“Ugh, no, I can’t… ugh!”
“Then just die!”
I observed Hogu Byeolseong as she shook the official.
The damp miasma that emanated from her with every raised voice seemed to be her affection for my father, the deceased Yeomra.
Realizing this, instead of the initial eerie tension, I felt a sense of curiosity.
Why had the goddess of pestilence, who was said to have disappeared long ago, come all the way to the underworld— and why was she so enraged by Yeomra’s death, as if it were her own?
[ Bzzzt… ]
But then.
[ —Bzzzt—Converting to Earth format—Bzzzt— ]
Another pitch-black sphere appeared in the air.
It was identical to the sphere that had transformed into the bulldozer.
“…!”
This time, instead of a bulldozer— a giant woman, seemingly over 2 meters tall, emerged.
She wore black sunglasses, her short hair slicked back, and a suit that barely covered her muscular physique… uh… could she also be an official?
“Director!”
The official, who had been caught by the collar, called out to her as if she were his savior.
Even though he was quite large himself, he looked almost diminutive compared to the woman who had just appeared.
…Wait, was she really an official?
With Hogu Byeolseong still alive, this woman could also be a god or something, right?
“Hmm.”
The director surveyed the surroundings with an air of authority and then walked towards me.
“I am Jo Okhui, Director of the Earth Bureau. It’s an Earth-style name.”
She introduced herself.
…Earth Bureau Director?
“I’ll get straight to the point, sir.”
She had approached me before I even knew it.
I wasn’t exactly small myself, but her physique seemed twice as big as mine— making her presence quite intimidating.
“With the absorption of Daebyeolwang’s divinity into Chaos, all his authority has been merged into the Cosmic Order Preservation Council. While the authority of Daebyeolwang and the Ten Kings of Hell are usually independent, due to the current absence of the Ten Kings, the supreme decision-making power over Hell now rests with me— Jo Okhui, the acting Director of the Earth Bureau, representing the Cosmic Order Preservation Council. As of today, I am suspending all functions of Hell and disbanding it. Therefore, any actions you take from now on will be considered obstruction of cosmic official duties.”
A long and detailed explanation followed.
But the first part was so shocking that the rest of her words didn’t register.
“Daebyeolwang… what?”
Daebyeolwang.
He was the eldest son of the Heavenly King, a god who had supported the underworld for ages.
The decline of this land had begun with the disappearance of Daebyeolwang, the very essence of the underworld’s energy.
Even after the advent of the Hunter era, the underworld had remained stable for a while. However, with Daebyeolwang’s disappearance and the erosion of his power, “destined death” the underworld quickly collapsed.
Because the Book of Life and Death, which recorded the destined deaths, had completely ceased to function.
“…You didn’t know.”
The director responded to my question.
Her tone was so businesslike and expressionless that it felt like I was talking to a machine.
“Sir, Daebyeolwang failed the pilot program for the Universal Mythology Integration Pilot Project.”
Her next words were shocking.
“To be honest, the Cosmic Order Preservation Council was largely at fault.”
***
The Universal Mythology Integration Pilot Project.
To summarize, it went like this:
Fifty years ago, in Earth time, the Cosmic Order Preservation Council— which manages the laws of the entire universe, decided to consolidate all the myths scattered throughout the cosmos.
The reason being— that the laws of each world were different, causing chaos.
However, the Cosmic Order Preservation Council couldn’t just blindly implement the policy.
Budget was an issue, and since it was an unprecedented endeavor, they couldn’t predict what would happen in the process of integrating all the myths.
Therefore, the Cosmic Order Preservation Council decided to select one planet as a pilot zone.
“Earth was a suitable planet in many ways,”
The Director explained.
“It had accumulated quite a lot of myths, and the size of the planet was also appropriate.”
It was a somewhat understandable reason.
“The level of civilization was also primitive. The most appealing factor was that they had no contact with other planets. It’s not easy to interfere with just one planet when it’s tied to the galactic economy.”
…Well, wait, that’s a bit sad from an Earthling’s perspective.
“Moreover, Earth had a history of constantly fighting over which god to believe in. We expected the inhabitants to actively participate in this project.”
“…”
At this point, I suddenly remembered a book I had read a long time ago.
—Do you see this pale blue dot? Please stop fighting over this tiny speck of dust.
Something like that.
Ah, so that’s why you guys shouldn’t have been fighting so much, humans.
“So the opening of the dungeons was because of that.”
I sighed and replied.
“Yes, in order to integrate myths, they first had to become reality.”
The Director continued.
“But then a problem arose.”
It was time to explain the mistake she mentioned earlier.
“Originally, we expected this project to go like this: When myths become reality, gods would lend their powers to humans, and humans would become agents of the said gods.”
Ah, so that’s what Awakened beings were. I got the gist of it.
“But when the agents became the gods’ proxies, they started fighting other mythical monsters. Then they started fighting amongst themselves. In short, it became a proxy war for the gods.”
By this point, I could guess what their mistake was.
“But then the agents started killing the gods themselves.”
…Yeah, that’s why our underworld was destroyed too.
“It was our fault for not properly assessing the aggressiveness of the inhabitants.”
“…”
Ah, if only the Hunters could hear this.
Their boldness in destroying even the underworld in just 50 years was enough to make even the cosmic order lament.
“Well, this is about the extent of the information allowed for this coordinate…”
…Coordinate?
“Actually, humans killing gods isn’t that big of a problem.”
What? Not a problem?
I frowned.
I’d been thinking about this for a while now, but this person… something about her was off-putting.
She spoke politely, but listening to her made me feel like a speck of cosmic dust.
“The real problem is that the souls who have lost their place due to the collapse of the underworld are accumulating as cosmic sediment.”
Regardless of my feelings, the Director continued her explanation.
“Planets with accumulated cosmic sediment are usually classified as abomination planets.”
So, because the Hunters destroyed the underworld, the entire Earth has now become a dumping ground for unwanted souls.
“Planets with accumulated cosmic sediment are usually demolished within a hundred years for environmental cleanup.”
…And it seemed Earth was going to disappear within a century because it was an eyesore.
“However, since planetary demolition tends to cause resentment, it was decided to temporarily restore the underworld.”
This seemed to be the main point.
“Unfortunately, you are the only remaining survivor of the Korean underworld.”
The Director said, pushing up her sunglasses.
“In other words, you have become the designated survivor of the underworld.”
As I heard those words, a cold sensation pierced my heart.
An ominous premonition, as if the scenario I had tried to avoid was about to become a reality.
“Designated survivor of the underworld?”
I reacted a beat late, and the Director nodded.
“Yes. According to the Korean underworld Law, if the Ten Kings of Hell fail to complete their term, their authority is transferred to their direct subordinate Chasa.”
She wasn’t wrong.
Even though they were called kings, the official title of the Ten Kings of Hell was “Judge.”
Of course, their average term was 14,782 years, and none of the ten had ever retired before passing away.
Yes, it wasn’t unheard of for a Chasa to inherit the throne…
“Um… that…”
I couldn’t help but feel a surge of emotion.
“There was… Gangrim, the Chasa…”
Chasa were indeed the successors to the Kings of Hell.
…That’s why Gangrim— before he left, had offered to reincarnate me as a human, using his authority as the highest power in the underworld.
“No.”
The Director said.
“Currently, the only confirmed survivor of the Korean Underworld is you.”
Why?
Suddenly, it wasn’t the Director’s voice that echoed in my ears, but my brother’s voice from the day he left the underworld.
—Live, Jeyeon.
As I absent mindedly pondered his words.
I paradoxically felt the reality of his absence.
Because I felt it, all those memories resurfaced.
His voice urging me to live.
And even the brief, awkward touch of his hand against my hair.
Yes, I truly am alone now.
“…I was just going to reincarnate.”
I managed to say, squeezing out the words.
Honestly, I just wanted to be reborn.
As a mosquito or anything else, if I could just be born again… I could forget the parting, the sorrow, everything.
“In that case, the Cosmic Order Preservation Council will temporarily manage the underworld.”
“…”
With mixed feelings, I looked around the underworld.
The Reincarnation Gate I had diligently cleaned.
The hells where the prisoners had escaped.
The tomb of my father, Yeomra, devoid of even a single blade of grass.
And finally, the bulldozer that was about to demolish the underworld.
“Then why are you demolishing it?”
I suddenly felt concerned.
If the Cosmic Order Preservation Council was going to manage the underworld anyway, couldn’t they just leave it as it is?
“Because no one believes in it anymore.”
Her words made my lips move involuntarily.
After swallowing my words a few times, I realized I wanted to refute her.
“The myth of reward and punishment has become meaningless, so we’re just leaving the basics. Death itself.”
Right.
It was a reality I thought I had already accepted.
But hearing it from someone else…
“…Then.”
A spark reignited within my chest.
A spark I had tried to suppress, but couldn’t extinguish.
A spark that still urged me to act.
“Then if I… if I become the supreme god of the underworld.”
The lingering attachment to the world beyond, which I thought had faded, had resurfaced.
“Could I… restore the myth of reward and punishment?”
The solace that even if the world of the living was unjust, at least the world of the dead was fair.
“…”
The Director looked at me with indifferent eyes for a moment.
“Yes.”
She replied matter-of-factly.
“You’re quite behind, but well, if you were to manifest the myth yourself, it might be possible.”
An indifferent answer, offering no positive encouragement— just stating that it wasn’t a zero possibility.
But even that meaningless sliver of possibility turned my suppressed longing into a burning desire.
I didn’t want to give up on this world after all.
“I’ll do it.”
—You chose death because you were afraid of life. That fear hasn’t gone anywhere.
He wasn’t wrong.
But perhaps, I was even more afraid of losing death itself.
Of having to live again.
Of having to reclaim a death that was fairer than life.
If both required a fierce struggle…
Then, at least I alone would choose a just and fair death.
“I will do it… Become The King of the Underworld.”
And so, I made my decision.
Instead of being dragged along by life, I would stand on my own two feet in this land of death once more.
———-