A Survival Guide for a Counselor in the Apocalypse Chapter 49

Chapter 49

 

The moment the clown burst into that wide, tearing grin, trumpets began to blare throughout the entire space.

Like a triumphal march, a grand and splendid song layered over the sound. Countless “Citizens of 6” began to sing.

 

— 

Ah, at last!

At last, he has arrived!

Finally, ah!

Our one and only!

— 

 

Calling the clown their “one and only.”

And then…

He approached.

Thud!

Even if we stepped back three paces, he caught up in a single stride. As if playing with us, he merely followed.

The clown, who had been laughing gleefully, opened his mouth. And assuming the mouth would only be on his face… yes, that was a surprisingly naïve prejudice.

The clown had mouths that opened on his abdomen and even on his forehead.

‘Fuck, just because it splits open doesn’t mean everything’s a mouth.’

With a tearing sound, flesh split sideways and began to open. A voice emerged from the mouth on his abdomen.

 

— 

Why do you not follow my laws in my land?

— 

 

The same voice as the king we had heard from afar.

 

— 

Is it negligence, or arrogance?

— 

 

It sounded right in front of us. Though the voice came from the abdomen, the two mouths on his forehead moved identically.

Sharp teeth were visible. Inside the mouth was endless darkness.

 

— 

I am angry.

— 

 

The mouth on his abdomen moved.

 

— 

This is amusing.

— 

 

The creature began to speak as if insane.

 

— 

Amusing amusing amusing amusing amusing amusing amusing amusing amusing amusing amusing amusing amusing amusing amusing…

— 

 

It echoed madly.

 

— 

Amusing. He says it is amusing. Amusing. He says it is amusing. Amusing. Amusing. He says it is amusing. Amusing. He says it is amusing. Amusing.

— 

 

Throughout the entire space.

 

—

[Anger: 100%]

[Rage: 100%]

[Frenzy: 100%]

[Ecstasy: 100%

—

 

The windows kept changing. It became ecstasy, then anger, then frenzy, then rage again.

The clown laughed like a madman, and the “Citizens of 6” laughed along with him just as crazily. The laughter climbed up to the very top of my skull.

After laughing for a long time, the clown suddenly stopped.

The moment it went expressionless, the entire space followed suit. The master of this space was none other than the clown… him.

He was the king, the master, the god.

‘At that level…’

That thing was likely a proxy corresponding to the persona of the “Clown of Revelry.” A “persona” was a proxy that rarely appeared, but when it did, its rank was that high.

‘Persona.’

Exactly as the word implies. The persona of a “Third Party.” A persona that projected everything.

Normally, in the event space of a “Third Party,” the one worshipped as a god is the “Third Party” itself.

Most of them were the last survivors of their worlds and the saviors who upheld them, so even their “event spaces” inevitably reflected their own worlds.

Like our gods. They exist, yet do not. They are worshipped, yet cannot fully manifest. “Third Parties” always felt a thirst because of this.

They desired to exist as perfect gods, manifested gods, tangible gods.

‘Even at the cost of creating a weakness.’

The “Third Parties” who willingly created personas.

They designated a proxy and poured all their essence into it. Then they named it their persona.

Within the “event space,” that proxy became their alter ego.

The persona served many roles, but the biggest one was directly appearing in the story to elevate the “Third Party’s” status. The persona made it seem as if the “Third Party” itself had personally descended into the story. Direct presence carries more weight than indirect presence.

‘That’s also why a persona is a weakness.’

The problem is that a persona can die. It was created to become a “god,” but it is neither omnipotent nor perfect.

If there is a myth about how a “god” dies, it becomes that god’s eternal weakness. If a persona dies, it is judged as the failed story of the connected “Third Party.”

 

—

[Ah, I smell the delicious scent of failure.]

—

 

If their persona dies, it becomes a story where the “Third Party” could die.

In other words, it becomes a story containing the death of a god.

And that story is no longer exclusive… it is given to everyone who participated in that space. They all gain a means to defeat that “Third Party” forever.

So a persona is, in other words…

 

— 

Why did you not choose 6?

— 

 

…a “Third Party.”

 

— 

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

—

 

I still cannot kill or deal with a “Third Party.”

To them, I am nothing but an insect.

The clown approached.

 

— 

Why did you choose 3?

Do you know 3?

Why did you choose 3?

Why 3 instead of 6?

— 

 

Was it truly trying to converse, or simply treating me as entertainment? I needed to figure that out first.

I kept my mouth shut for a moment, then spoke.

“…Curious?”

The clown grinned widely and replied:

 

— 

Yes. I am curious.

I am deeply curious.

— 

 

Conversation was possible. At the same time, I was still just a plaything.

Lee Hoin grabbed me as if asking why I was even talking, and I stepped back as well.

The clown continued staring at me. Smiling. It didn’t care whether I moved away or not.

“…The number 3 kept appearing so often. Just like 6. A kind of instinct, I guess.”

 

—

Instinct? How trivial.

—

 

It looked down at me as if it already knew.

 

— 

Instinct is nothing but coincidence.

— 

 

I glanced around. The bracelet on my arm had all six stamps filled.

The way out, six completed marks.

‘…All six are filled.’

We’d gotten a stamp before the parade. That meant we could leave.

 

—

Did you come here by coincidence?

Did you become 3 by coincidence?

Did you kill demons by coincidence?

By instinct? By mere feeling?

—

 

As I moved farther away while listening to it, I answered:

“Sometimes instinct is the most useful ally.”

The clown laughed cheerfully. It sounded mocking, but also genuinely amused. Maybe both.

Taking advantage of that moment, I said over my shoulder:

“Let’s head to the entrance.”

The entrance. The ticket booth.

The entrance was also the exit… if we could reach it.

We started moving. Turned toward the ticket booth and prepared to run.

 

—

A lie.

I smell lies from you.

You know more than you let on.

I smell deceitful revelry.

—

 

I ignored it and began sprinting toward the entrance.

The space itself watched us. Observed us. Even our escape seemed like entertainment to it.

As if it already knew where we were heading, the clown slowly began to follow.

 

—

How do you know?

Why do you deceive me?

How did you deceive me?

—

 

Thud. Thud.

Thud.

Heavy footsteps followed behind us.

After trailing us for a while, it burst into laughter and asked:

 

—

Who are you?

The sole Watcher of the Death Realm?

Mm, no. Not that.

—

 

The sole Watcher of the Death Realm. Sa Jaeheon.

A title used by the “Third Parties” to refer to him.

It dismissed him so easily.

 

—

The Silent One of the Ashen Earth.

Ah, was that one dead? Or alive?

But that’s not you.

 

You don’t smell of ash.

Heartless Thunder?

No. You don’t carry the scent of lightning.

 

Ah, that one…

Yes, dead.

Did he die embracing his world?

—

 

Titles of saviors from countless worlds poured out…

The Silent One of the Ashen Earth, Heartless Thunder, the Devourer of Dawn from the Twilight World, Sa Jaeheon…

Even those who had not yet become “Third Parties” still stood as the sole pillars of their worlds.

If they disappeared, their worlds might vanish entirely.

The very centers of their worlds.

Thud, thud.

THUD!

Slash!

Something swung violently behind us.

 

—

Answer me.

Who are you?

Who are you?

—

 

It swung again and again, as if it would kill us just to make us stop.

“Over here!”

Lee Hyun broke through ahead.

I was at the very back of the group. Normally, I’d be at the front, but–

‘The aggro’s on me. If I go to the front…’

From our perspective, I’d be leading. But from its perspective, I’d be the last target.

If I ran in front, it would swing deeper, trying to catch me.

So I kept a measured distance behind them as I ran.

 

—

There cannot be two in one world.

A world so favored must not exist.

 

Therefore…

A favored world.

—

 

Favored?

This is what you call favoritism?

 

—

It is unfair and unreasonable.

Favoritism must be corrected.

—

 

Behind us…

THUD!

… the footsteps suddenly stopped.

 

—

[Ahaha, is this what they call the calm before the storm?]

—

 

The calm before the storm.

The commentator sounded delighted.

And usually, when that bastard is delighted…

 

—

One of you must die.

Your soul must be burned, so it can never return.

—

 

…it means misfortune for me.