Chapter 157

The Strategist IX

The Admin of the Infinite Metagame changed its appearance. From a charming blue butterfly beloved by all, it morphed into a form shrouded in TV noise. It was likely becoming something terrifying. This scene, where the Outer God finally proclaimed, "Yes, I am Kira," and revealed itself as the final boss, did not scare me at all. After all, even in Death Note, the ultimate villain switched professions from god to vocaloid after making that declaration. It would have been strange to feel fear.

Calmly, I drew my gun. A Walther PPK pistol, the God Slayer. It was a special relic I had acquired from Namsan specifically for this battle. Feeling its cold touch, I recalled a conversation I had with the Saintess 33 days ago.

Yes, reflecting on the past before delivering the final blow was also a timeless cliché. Countless creative works have proven a significant correlation between a character’s recollections and their attack power. Hence, the flashback scene, start.

“Mr. Undertaker.”

The Saintess whispered.

“By the way, why must we take the format of a ‘speedrun stream’? Can’t it just be a normal stream?”

It was a dark night. It was the very night when Oh Dok-seo had declared, “I will save you, Mister!” She had confidently accumulated another dark history, then had fallen into a deep, oblivious sleep.

In contrast, the Saintess and I needed hardly any sleep. The Saintess could simply click the [Time Stop] button and sleep as much as she wanted, while my training was advanced enough that just a brief rest was sufficient.

Even as the apocalypse unfolded, forcing all humanity into a strict routine of early to bed and early to rise, only the two of us continued to enjoy the indulgent late-night lifestyle of bad adults.

“Oh, that’s literally a matter of time.”

“Time?”

“Yes. The Outer God, the Admin of the Infinite Metagame, waits for more humans to worship it as a god.”

Snore—

On the bed, Oh Dok-seo was snoring loudly, spreading noise throughout the world.

“People imagine gods in their own ways. A benevolent god, a fearful god, an omniscient god... The more diverse these images become, the more forms the Admin of the Infinite Metagame can take.”

“Take different forms?”

“Yes. The images of gods that have appeared in humanity’s creative works are truly countless. the Admin of the Infinite Metagame can choose any one of them as it pleases.”

The Admin of the Infinite Metagame could transform into anything. It could become Cthulhu and create a horror scene or turn into an extremely kind god to draw voluntary submission from people.

“I speculate that its power lies in determining the genre of this world.”

“.......”

“If, by any chance, the genre of the world gets fixed as a tragic story, it would be disastrous. Before the Admin of the Infinite Metagame selects a genre, we must first impose a specific genre on the Outer God.”

“A specific genre? Like what...?”

“Comedy.”

I took a sip of café au lait.

“Perhaps you noticed when we crossed the sea in Hamel's Journal. I have been intentionally making the situation comical to avoid falling into a tragic genre.”

“Ah.”

“If we can define this cycle’s genre as 'comedy,' at least in the beginning, the Admin of the Infinite Metagame will never be able to descend in a terrifying god's form.”

“I see. That’s why you keep joking around.”

I nodded. Works had an inherent atmosphere. No matter how much the Admin of the Infinite Metagame tried to introduce a tragic plot, if the atmosphere was light and comedic from the start, forcing it into a tragic tone would be criticized as poor writing. That wouldn’t be a planned cliché but a failed story.

If such a situation occurred, the Admin of the Infinite Metagame would admit that it lacked the ability to manage clichés. Anomalies could never reject their essence. We had to exploit this flaw.

“Saintess. We have taken the Hate Pill, so all sorts of misfortunes will soon befall us.”

“.......”

“When we return to Korea, we will head straight to Baekhwa Girls' High School. The Infinite Void distorts human perception of time endlessly, so we will likely spend over five years there. Let me be clear, it will be five years of hell.”

I smiled and murmured.

“――just as planned.”

Yes. One of the greatest clichés in creative works: ‘everything went according to the protagonist’s plan.’ I had accumulated enough cause and effect to assert this cliché. From the 135th cycle to the 593rd, even dying under Noh Do-hwa's strangling, I had been building these buffs for this very moment.

Into this single bullet, I infused:

[Total Luck Law],

[Hate Pill],

[Chekhov’s Gun],

[Flashback],

[Just as Planned].

Click.

I pulled the trigger towards the god.

- Bang!

The gunshot echoed loudly. Perhaps too loudly. The Admin of the Infinite Metagame, realizing my strike belatedly, tried to evade. However, it was in the midst of transformation after declaring itself the final boss. Attacking someone mid-transformation was generally against the rules of all series, but if done only once, such a surprise attack was allowed.

Crack—!

As my bullet passed through, it scratched the noise-covered realm of the Outer God. The area closest to the god, unfolding in 16-bit, 8-bit, and 4-bit low resolutions, was pierced by the bullet. The bullet swirled through the low-resolution world like a tornado, shattering it like glass.

As the bullet hurtled towards it, the Outer God’s messages flooded the screen, panicked and without minimal formality.

[The Admin of the Infinite Metagame claims the cliché ‘Twist within a Twist.’] [The Admin of the Infinite Metagame claims the cliché ‘Attacks during transformation fail.’] [Resurrection] [Regeneration] [Claims] [Requests] [‘Did they defeat it?’ cliché for priests and followers] [cliché] [requests] [The Admin of the Infinite Metagame] [is] [■] [is] [is] [■] [■]

Those were the screams of the anomaly. The bullet pierced the god’s wing.

[The Admin of the Infinite Metagame] [■] [is] [ah] [is] [ah] [ah] [■] [■] [■] [■] [■]

Crackle.

The 16-bit space that had spread to the horizon rapidly contracted. The contracting point was where the bullet had pierced. The black, gray, and white noise spun like a black hole, drawing everything into a single point. Tens of thousands of NPCs screamed bizarrely as they were sucked into the black hole.

Then, holes began to appear throughout the world. With the sound of breaking glass, bullet holes formed in the sky, the ground, and the hotel building.

[■] [■] [■] [■] [■] [■]

Splash. Splash. The holes spewed out black liquid like waterfalls. The black vomit smelled like oil. As the liquid flowed, a strange noise echoed, resembling the static of a broken radio. The disgusting smell and unpleasant sound quickly spread, blackening the entire world.

Oh Dok-seo and I were submerged in the Outer God’s vomit. The black liquid rose up to our heads, but fortunately, we had no trouble breathing. It was probably not a physical liquid.

When I closed and reopened my eyes under the black surface, an infinite expanse of white space unfolded around me. It was so entirely white that it was difficult to discern up from down. This was the Divine Realm. Not the artificially created comedy temple, but the true space where the Admin of the Infinite Metagame existed.

“Ah, Mister? Where are we?”

“.......”

Only I, Oh Dok-seo, and the Saintess were invited to the Divine Realm. Perhaps only the three of us were recognized as the main characters of this story.

-....... .......

Before us, the master of this space lay collapsed.

Footnotes:

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