Chapter 31 – Creator I
[Translator – Jjsecus]
[Proofreader – Gun]
Chapter 31 – Creator I
1
Among those who have listened to my story so far, there might be some who wonder about this.
So, what is the government doing?
In the midst of all this chaos, with cults babbling nonsense, Cthulhu tentacles slithering around, and world tree zombies sprouting in this crazy apocalypse, what exactly are politicians and the government doing?
Firstly, there’s something I want to say to those people.
“Hey, guys, the Korean government has something to say!”
That’s right. We should also consider the government’s perspective.
You’ve probably already heard that as soon as the gate opened in Seoul, the National Assembly building shot off into space.
By the way, at that time, the president was busy giving a budget speech in the National Assembly. It was truly an awe-inspiring moment when South Korea suddenly ascended to become a leading nation in the era of space exploration.
The unity between the ruling party and the opposition didn’t happen on the pitiful Earth but rather on a new colony named Space.
From the perspective of politicians, isn’t Korea just a pitiful homeland of the past? Like the Portuguese royal family, who moved their headquarters to Brazil to escape Napoleon, the Korean government also went on a summer vacation.
Q) What remains on the Korean Peninsula now?
A) A few members of parliament, ministers, governors, mayors, and a whole lot of monsters who didn’t even bother attending the budget speech.
Foolishly, politicians wasted three days even when the social infrastructure hadn’t completely collapsed yet.
You’d realize if you experienced it firsthand, three days in an apocalypse are enough to drive people insane.
There weren’t many brave souls who could keep it together even after hearing news like “Oh, monsters are having a gathering in our apartment complex’s park and parking lot!”
And finally, on the third day, the government or rather the remnants of the government delivered a grand speech to the nation, like the grand finale of a festival.
– Ladies and gentlemen, South Korea is still safe. For now, please continue with your daily lives without worry.
Truly a bland speech.
What politicians failed to realize at that moment was the Korean people’s DNA.
Their DNA was imprinted with infinite trust in the government. The people of this country remembered the lightning-fast response of their ancestors when the Japanese invaded, and how the South Korean military swiftly recaptured Uijeongbu after the North Korean invasion, then defended Seoul.
Being fooled once is the fault of the deceiver, being fooled twice is the foolishness of the deceived, and being fooled thrice, well, you might as well return your Homo sapiens certificate. And Koreans haven’t been eliminated from the evolutionary process yet.
“Trusting? Yeah, right!”Yoour favorite stories at novelhall.com
“Ugh! I knew it would be like this!”
“Head south! Definitely south!”
The civilians of the Korean Peninsula evacuated with surprising orderliness.
“Ladies and gentlemen! The area north of the Han River is still safe! Please trust the government and the military and return to—”
“Who’s that guy?”
“He’s the Deputy Mayor of Administration.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, damn.”
“I don’t know. Throw him.”
“Huh? Hey, hey, wait—”
The Deputy Mayor of Administration of Seoul (acting mayor in absence, third in line, and the sole survivor) attempted to stop the citizens by performing on Banpo Bridge, but Seoulites simply tossed him outside the railings, providing him with a firsthand experience of the Han River’s temperature.
It was a neat and somewhat extravagant throw that would have earned a standing ovation from the citizens of old Prague.
Perhaps if the politicians had candidly admitted, “Well, we’re screwed right now, but surprisingly, the area north of the Han River is safe when considering the distribution of monsters. To be more precise, every region in the country is equally unsafe,” the situation might have improved.
But what can you do? All that’s left is to resent the ancestors who burned through the people’s trust stack twice.
As the Seoul Republic collapsed miserably, the remaining interim governments had no choice. The mayors and governors nationwide had long engraved the phrase “each for their own” into their hearts.
The fact that the mayor of Busan, who was closest to the throne of chaos, fled to Japan was both the final straw and the decisive blow.
Depending on the observer, it might have seemed sinister or ominous, but due to my extensive experience as a regressor, I was quite free from such prejudices. So, I could evaluate Noh Doha’s expression without hesitation as a “kind smile.”
“If by any chance something goes wrong, there may be cases where it feels like a nerve-wracking pain. You can think of it as a 5% chance of a gacha failure... If that happens, please come back to me. I’ll remake it for you at half price...”
Noh Doha was a prosthetic maker.
Prosthetics referred to auxiliary devices used by disabled people with mobility difficulties. Like wheelchairs or crutches, you know, those kinds of things.
He had been repairing and producing various prosthetics while working at a public hospital long before the Gate incident. He was already well-known among wounded soldiers who had lost limbs due to mines or similar incidents. They said he was a talent eagerly sought after by veterans’ hospitals, but Noh Doha himself didn’t seem to care much.
“I probably shouldn’t say this, but I don’t like soldiers...”
“Just out of curiosity, does Noh Doha have any humans he likes?”
“No, I don’t, but...?”
“...”
He was a miracle person who hadn’t become a shut-in.
Even Noh Doha had concerns. Specifically, concerns about patients, or more precisely, concerns about “patients with severe mobility difficulties.”
“Some of the patients seem to be having a hard time moving...”
Patients whose nerves in their backs had been damaged had to ride wheelchairs to get around.
Even if there were cars with seats for disabled people, things were somewhat improved, but as the days went by, not only did gasoline run out, but the asphalt roads themselves became bumpy. It was difficult not only for cars but also for wheelchairs to move around.
Most people would have given up at this point.
Since the Gate incident began in earnest, the idea of having to treat disabled people became quite rare. It was an era where being killed by a monster was treated as a natural death. If it weren’t for Noh Doha, I would have coolly given up on run 11 from the moment my left leg was severed.
“Even the elderly find it increasingly difficult to come to our workshop because the roads are so uncomfortable to navigate...”
But the owner of exceptional wit was different, indeed.
“Then shouldn’t we make the roads a bit more comfortable...?”
Noh Doha led the negotiations with his sagging body.
At this time, despite the desensitization towards the disabled, the number of disabled people had increased dramatically. Losing an arm or a leg in battles against monsters was nothing short of an achievement.
And Noh Doha was an Awakened who had gained the ability to produce prosthetics.
The prosthetics made by Noh Doha, even if they were made of wood or metal, had the effect of feeling like real muscles from the user’s perspective. Just put them on and you’re good to go. There was no need for rehabilitation training or adaptation period.
In short, among Noh Doha’s “regular customers,” there were a considerable number of Awakeneds.
Most guild leaders were all nodding along with Noh Doha. Even if they themselves were fine, wouldn’t they want to send their guild members to Noh Doha’s workshop for prosthetics if they were injured?
Noh Doha was a true civil servant who never refused a bribe. If you didn’t open up to him in advance, you’d hear something like, “Oh, sir, your appointment has been delayed by about six months.”
Even the guild leaders with high noses had become a bit more flexible when it came to considering the survival chances of Awakeneds missing limbs over six months.
“Oh, Mr. Noh. How did you end up here?”
“Oh, well... I was thinking about improving the road from Haeundae to Bansong-dong...”
“The road? You, sir? Why?”
“One of the patients residing in Bansong-dong complained that the road to our workshop was completely destroyed. While finding a house in Haeundae is no big deal, I don’t want to be that considerate. I was thinking of just paving the road...”
Normally, paving a road was a much bigger favor than finding a house, but there was no proper balance patch in the lunatic’s brain.
“But isn’t Bansong already under the control of the guild leader? Would you be able to provide some small assistance if I were to pave the road?”
“Hmm. So it’s just Mr. Noh doing the business alone?”
“Yes...”
“Oh, well, of course we should help then! Just tell us what you need!”
And so, a one-lane asphalt road from Haeundae-gu, where Noh Doha’s workshop was located, to Bansong-dong in Busan was completed.
Since it was just a renovation of the existing road, the construction wasn’t too difficult. Noh Doha’s workshop took care of all the work and post-management.
Thanks to Noh Doha, Mr. Lee, a 71-year-old patient, could safely visit, even if it took a bit longer. The patient was satisfied, Noh Doha was satisfied, and the property prices in Bansong-dong were also satisfied.
That was just the beginning.
[Translator – Jjsecus]
[Proofreader – Gun]