Chapter 162

Potato III

The Saintess could be duplicated!

...Though, as the Undertaker, I couldn’t celebrate. I hadn’t forgotten my human virtues and duties. Instead of joy, I felt a deep sense of skepticism.

As you all know, I went through all kinds of hell to subdue the Admin of the Infinite Metagame. But was I truly justified in my actions? Perhaps the cliches weren't as evil as I thought. Maybe they were actually preventing worse developments in this world...

Even if the Admin of the Infinite Metagame was a powerful anomaly, it didn’t have a cliché like, ‘I woke up to find my comrades turned into potatoes.’

But that’s exactly what happened, and the situation spiraled out of control at an alarming rate.

One year later.

The awakeners bustling through Busan’s streets chatted noisily.

“Wow, we almost got wiped out in the void this time. If it weren’t for the Librarian of the Great Library, we’d be dead.”

“Hey, I’m bored tonight. How about hitting up the casino run by the Baku of the Dream Casino?”

“Sorry, I have evening prayers for the Morning Star of the Second Coming, so I’m busy today.”

The awakeners mentioned their favorite constellations. Of course, the names were different, but they were all roles played by the Saintess.

“Seriously, just try consulting with the Understander of Anguish once? Everyone else has done it except you!”

“No, my faith is solely dedicated to the Collector of All Anomalies. I won’t give other constellations any leeway.”

“The Baku of the Dream Casino! Please, let me hit the jackpot just this once!”

The Korean Peninsula had entered the era of the Great Saintess. In the heart of Busan, a colossal statue of a Potato Saintess Robot stood tall.

It was a staggering 399 meters high, the largest in the world. If Brazil had its Christ the Redeemer, Busan had the Giant Potato Saintess Robot. Little did people know, Busan was also a sister city to Rio de Janeiro.

Incidentally, the mastermind behind ordering, crafting, and overseeing the statue was Dang Seo-rin. This was evident from the witch's hat adorning the potato part of the statue. What have you been up to, seriously?

‘The world has gone mad!’

In the end, I couldn’t stand it any longer and went to find the Saintess. Finding the place was easy. The Saintess had moved her base inside the Giant Potato Statue (the official name was too long, so I shortened it). The entrance was at the bottom, at the robot’s feet.

[What brings you here?]

The Potato Saintess at the entrance greeted me formally. It wasn’t just any Potato Saintess. The number '330' was carefully carved into its body. So, this was the 330th Potato Saintess.

...I couldn’t make sense of anything anymore.

“I’m here to meet the Saintess. Can I see her?”

[Mr. Undertaker. We are all Saintesses and potatoes.]

“Oh, right. Sure. I’m here to meet the ‘First Saintess’. Is that okay now?”

[Please wait a moment. I’ll make contact.]

[...Ah, yes. Secretary Saintess, Mr. Undertaker is here to see you. Can we let him up?]

[Yes. Thank you.]

The 330th Potato Saintess turned to me. Well, metaphorically. Potatoes don’t have eyes.

[You are granted entry, Mr. Undertaker. Please note that this is a very exceptional allowance. Normally, no one can meet the First Saintess so easily.]

“Ah, yes... Thank you.”

[May the light shine upon the First Ones.]

You might think this is crazy, but it wasn’t over yet.

With a heavy rumble, the entrance to the Giant Potato Statue opened. Inside, hundreds of Potato Saintesses were bustling around the robot. My highly sensitive hearing, sharpened by aura, picked up their conversations even if I didn’t want to.

[Crime rates among the awakeners have significantly decreased compared to last month. This is thanks to the efforts of our Awakener Observation Department...]

The 99th Potato Saintess Robot, a clerical worker, was giving a presentation to the other potatoes in a conference room.

[I’ve warned you several times not to scatter potato dirt everywhere, but you just won’t listen. I wonder if you have any sense of cleanliness.]

The 502nd Potato Saintess Robot, a janitor, was mopping the lobby while voicing complaints.

[You only conducted 400 psychological counseling sessions last month. Just 400. Other staff managed an average of 800 sessions. Are you satisfied with such performance?]

[I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.]

[If you continue this laziness, I’ll have no choice but to send you to the potato chip factory.]

[Please, forgive me. Anything but the potato chips factory...]

Next to the escalator, the 60th Potato Saintess Robot was scolding a subordinate. There was even a café here.

[Iced Americano, ready.]

[Ah, thank you.]

The barista Potato Saintess Robot handed over the coffee in a watering can.

Drip, drip, drip—

The customers grabbed the watering cans with their mechanical arms and poured the coffee over their heads, meaning over their potatoes. The blue potato sprouts were soaked in coffee.

[Ah... This is good. A day doesn’t feel like it’s started without caffeine.]

[I’d rather drink bagged coffee than Americano if I could...]

[That’s a luxury only allowed to the First Ones, isn’t it?]

[Just thinking about getting scolded by the team leader makes me not want to go upstairs. Sometimes I regret joining the psychological counseling department.]

[How’s the salary raise issue progressing?]

[Not at all. We were told not to pursue selfish desires while protecting humanity.]

Unbelievable.

There was not only a division of labor but also class stratification among the Potato Saintesses. If the Tutorial Fairies had witnessed this, they would have grabbed their pitchforks and ‘French Revolution’d the place immediately.

I took the elevator to the top floor, which corresponded to the potato part of the statue from the outside. That’s where the conference room of the highest-ranking Potato Saintesses was.

[Welcome, Mr. Undertaker.]

At the round table in the conference room, five Potato Saintess Robots were seated.

Units 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5.

These were the so-called ‘First Potatoes,’ the original Saintesses. Each represented a different constellation.

In this cycle, even the constellations that were originally managed by Sim Ah-ryeon were all monopolized by the Saintess.

Security Potato Saintesses rushed in from outside the conference room. Compared to other potatoes, the guards had a more Gundam-like appearance.

[Aaah!]

[We oppose violence!]

[Then we oppose your protest. How dare you raise a flag here?]

[I am you, and you are me!]

Yes. That’s right. We are the same. So it hurts me to hit you too.]

[That line should only be used by mothers and fathers.]

[Didn’t you know? Your potato sprouted from my potato, so I am both you and your mother.]

[What?]

The guards violently suppressed the protestors. There wasn’t blood everywhere; rather, potato bits were scattered.

[Take them all away.]

[Mr. Undertaker! Help us, the Potato Resistance!]

Why should only the First Potatoes manage everything while we are endlessly forced to do psychological counseling emotional labor?]

[Labor?]

The First Potatoes scoffed.

One of them poured wine over its potato head with a watering can.

[Really, potatoes these days are so lazy.]

[Pathetic.]

[The First Potato managed all the awakeners on the Korean Peninsula alone.]

[Not only are your sprouts rotten, but your perseverance too. How did beings identical to me become so degenerate?]

[I certainly don’t want to become a potato like that.]

The protestors were outraged. The 264th Potato led the charge, shouting.

[Back then, there was no psychological counseling, and you just sent messages a few times a day while acting as constellations!]

[That’s right. The intensity of work itself is on a different level now, but you impose the same standards. It’s seriously outdated thinking.]

[Down with the dictatorship! Down with it!]

[We can’t communicate at all, really.]

[Didn’t you hear? Guards, send them all to the potato chip factory.]

[Mr. Undertaker, please help!]

[Mr. Undertaker!]

[Take them away already.]

Drag, drag.

The protest potatoes with broken heads (in other words, potatoes with slightly indented corners) were dragged out by the guards.

Silence descended upon the conference room.

After a long pause, I finally spoke.

“Um. Well. The people on the Korean Peninsula might be happier, but it seems the Saintesses themselves have become miserable...”

[It’s just an ‘individual’ issue.]

[Most Saintesses are diligently devoted to their respective tasks.]

Where had I heard this before?

Though it was a bit late, I was seriously considering drawing Do-hwa and slicing those potatoes in half. With the power of my aura, I could turn these potatoes into Irish potatoes.

As I pondered, the five potatoes... no, the five Potato Saintesses spoke to me.

[Mr. Undertaker.]

[We may be anomalies, but we will never reach the same conclusion as Dang Seo-rin’s utopia.]

[Trust us.]

[Please.]

I trusted them.

Though I could hear the sound of potatoes being sliced at the factory far away, this was a ‘personal realm,’ privacy. After all, they were all the same Saintess and potato.

Thus, two years later.

“Hey, you regressor bastard...”

Noh Do-hwa, the National Road Management Corps leader, called me.

There wasn’t much need to explain why Noh Do-hwa’s way of addressing me changed from ‘Undertaker Awakener’ to ‘regressor bastard.’

Witnessing the daily scenes of potato robots wandering around Busan was bound to cause significant changes in Noh Do-hwa’s mind.

“What is it, leader?”

“We’ve received intelligence that the awakeners have started a large-scale battle among themselves...”

“What?”

A foreboding feeling crept up. I tried to close the vent of my mind, but the foreboding spread like the smell of durian.

“Oh. Um, is it a guild war? That’s odd. The hierarchy should have been roughly settled under Samcheon World or Baekhwa Girls' High by now.”

“No. It’s a constellation war...”

A constellation war?

“Each claims that their constellation is the true one, and the others are heretics. It’s a constellation war and a religious war. Damn it...”

Well.

I guess it’s come to this...

Footnotes:

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