Chapter 28

The New Budhha II

In the 17th cycle, Old Man Scho and I were running an academy. He was the principal, and I served as the vice principal. It was a ploy to easily attract and cultivate promising Awakeners from various countries.

We managed this academy earnestly for a while, accumulating plenty of data on the Awakeners. There will come a time to discuss this academy in more detail later.

“Gather all the graduating class and faculty!”

“I've already done that, you brat! You’re the last one!”

Old Man Scho lied. We had to roam the dormitory in our pajamas, waking up every combat team.

After preparations were complete, we set out for the rendezvous point agreed upon with other guilds for emergencies.

“Samcheon guild leader!”

“Oh, Undertaker. Swordmaster is here too?”

Along the way, other guilds joined us one after another.

Samcheon World, one of the two strongest in Korea, had quickly arrived with their elites. The sight of sixty Awakeners in pointed hats, wielding staffs, looked ridiculous, but their combat strength was no joke.

“What kind of mess is this?”

“We’re still figuring out the exact cause. The Constellations are giving me hints, but I need to see it with my own eyes. That giant tree was first spotted around 2 a.m. today.”

“Did it suddenly bloom?”

“Yeah. It grew that big in less than an hour, and it started glowing red only after it fully grew. So the report was a bit delayed.”

“...Ominous.”

“I agree.”

Then a Samcheon guild member approached Dang Seo-rin and whispered something to her.

All the guild leaders gathered at the rendezvous point looked at Dang Seo-rin. Despite Ten Legs being subjugated, she was still relied on as a leader. She sighed.

“Well, you all should see this. Bring it.”

“Yes.”

The guild members dragged something bound tightly with ropes. It was a human, or to be precise, someone dressed as a New Buddhist.

To be more exact, it was a human gnawing on their forearm and mumbling incessantly.

“Hun҉gry҉... Hun҈҈҉gry҉... Hun҉gry҈... Hun҈҉gry...”

Even tied up, the biting didn’t stop. They bent their head as much as they could and twisted their elbow backward to gnaw at their own flesh.

In the dim night, we couldn’t see it clearly at first, but now we noticed their legs and left arm had already been devoured.

The guild leaders' faces hardened.

“...What's that guy doing? Is he a zombie?”

“At least he’s a polite zombie, eating his own flesh.”

“Or maybe he's just a modest zombie.”

“What’s he mumbling?”

The live sight of someone tearing off their own flesh was grotesque, but the guild leaders who had survived till now were not easily shaken. Their expressions were grim, but their sharp eyes observed the zombie.

“From what we’ve seen so far...”

When Dang Seo-rin spoke, the guild leaders fell silent.

“All New Buddhists show the same symptoms.”

“All of them!”

A murmur of shock spread.

“Every single one?”

“Yes. Ah, I misspoke. You don’t even have to be a New Buddhist; anyone infected with the New Buddha virus, whether ordinary or awakened, is the same.”

“I knew it.”

Old Man Scho grumbled.

“There’s never been anything good that comes from cults. What, you get an extra life point if you get infected? No way such a lucky thing exists. I’ve been suspicious from the start.”

“......”

The guild leaders’ stares bore down on the German’s indiscriminate grumbling. Clearing my throat, I carefully took over the conversation.

“Samcheon Guild Leader, are these the only symptoms? Like Tami, a creature that devours itself? While intriguing, I don’t see the connection between the World Tree and these zombies.”

“What’s Tami? Anyway, watch a bit longer. Something curious will happen.”

Even while we spoke, the zombie didn’t stop feeding.

“Hun҉gry҉... Hun҈҈҉gry҉... Hun҉gry҈... Hun҈҉gry...”

Soon, the last remaining right arm fell off. The zombie stood tall like a Matryoshka doll.

“......”

The zombie raised its head and looked up at the night sky in the direction of the World Tree. Its mouth slowly opened, and a red flower sprouted from within.

The guild leaders collectively held their breath.

“My God.”

“Fuck, what...?”

Someone muttered, “Looks like a cordyceps...”

A fungus that parasitizes its host before blooming into a mushroom.

Except in this case, it wasn’t a mushroom but a brilliantly beautiful red flower.

The red flower used the zombie’s body as a flowerpot, and in the blink of an eye, it grew to the height of a one-story building. It was as if time itself had malfunctioned. We were speechless as we looked up at the crown of the red flower.

Pop, like popcorn bursting, the petals exploded.

The red flower blossomed and withered in ten seconds as if each was its own season. But unlike other trees, it didn’t shed its flowers downward.

The guild leaders were speechless.

I could only guess she cooperated with Awakeners working with the South Korean government (or remnants of it), like Noh Do-hwa, among others.

After assigning the Saintess her quest, I took care of the cult leaders responsible for founding the New Buddhists. Even if other faiths would eventually arise, eliminating them bought us at least a year or two.

And so, in the 36th cycle:

“It’s not Jeju Island.”

37th cycle:

“No sign of a first patient in Gyeongsangnam-do.”

38th, 39th, 40th cycles.

Finally, in the 41st cycle.

“...Found them.”

The Saintess opened her eyes.

“Chungcheongnam-do. Asan. Onyang.”

More precisely, an old inn in Onyang.

The old commercial district had withered after the city center shifted, leaving the inn to decay precariously beside neglected sidewalks where weeds flourished more than people.

The inn seemed abandoned. Its beige paint had flaked off in patches.

In room 202 on the second floor, where there wasn’t much left to take, a mother and her son lay dead.

“......”

The mother and child looked like they had just closed their eyes.

Finding this place was nearly miraculous. An Awakener working at the local community center was patrolling residential areas and lodging facilities, ensuring no residents had been left behind. (Perhaps the Saintess, pretending to be a Constellation, had directed him.)

When the staff member found the bodies, the Saintess witnessed the scene simultaneously.

He moved to his next checkpoint, burdened with caring for the living, but the Saintess’s gaze lingered, leading me here today.

There was a reason my alias was the “Undertaker.”

“Hmm.”

The mother leaned against the wall, holding her child tight. He was an infant, and small, delicate red flowers, like young ferns in spring, bloomed above her shoulders.

Around his wrist hung a prayer bead bracelet that was a bit too large for his tiny wrist. It wasn't hard to imagine whose bracelet it was and who had put it on him. I briefly thought about the mother’s feelings when she placed her own bracelet on her child.

When crossing to the afterlife, perhaps she hoped her child wouldn’t fall into hell.

I stood still, gazing at the scene before me like a Buddhist staring at a statue.

[Mr. Undertaker.]

The Saintess spoke telepathically. She didn’t pretend to be a Constellation with me, using her real voice instead.

I nodded.

“I understand. Don’t worry.”

I infused my sword with aura and swung it. A few red flowers scattered across the small, one-room world.

Udumbara was a mythical flower.

There isn’t much of an epilogue to this story.

But from that day onward, I had one more task to handle at the start of each cycle.

Taking care of Seo Gyu and Sim Ah-ryeon at Busan Station. Drinking Café au Lait with Old Man Scho at Baekje Hospital. Establishing an alliance with the Saintess. And then heading up to Chungcheong-do to see the red flowers.

Later, I learned that no matter how many times I repeated my regressions, it was impossible to save the mother and her child. They were already dead by the time the Gate crisis hit Seoul.

Cause of death: starvation.

Misery is always in season.

“Phew...”

Sometimes, I arrived at the inn a few days late due to a delayed schedule. By then, the Udumbara, once no bigger than a young fern, would have already grown into a small cherry tree.

“Wow, it’s so beautiful...”

I brought a companion along to see the flowers every new cycle. In the 96th cycle, my companion was Sim Ah-ryeon.

“Is this really the anomaly you mentioned, guild leader? You said it should be classified at a continental danger level on SG Net...”

“Yes.”

“It’s such a fascinating sight. Makes me want to paint it.”

True to her word, Sim Ah-ryeon had brought an easel here and set it up. As she pulled out her paints, she said, “Ah.”

“So, guild leader, what kind of flower is that...?”

A flower that has destroyed the world countless times.

Instead of telling her that, I brushed aside the branches and said,

“It’s a flower that blooms each season I die.”

“Gasp.”

Sim Ah-ryeon marveled at my sophisticated expression.

“Middle school syndrome...”

“......”

“A grown man with middle school syndrome...”

Hmm.

Next time I bring her along, it’ll be to a creepy haunted spot.

Footnotes:

[1] The term "화엄" refers to the "Huayan" school of Buddhism, also known as the Flower Garland School. This tradition is named after the "Avatamsaka Sutra" (Flower Garland Sutra), one of the most influential Mahayana sutras. The Huayan school is known for its intricate and profound philosophy which emphasizes interpenetration and interdependence of all phenomena. In East Asian Buddhism, it has been particularly influential in China, Korea, and Japan.

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