Past (8), the Season When Roses Wither (1)

Ga-eul stood on the platform where the seasons changed. A cold wind blew. People waiting for the train clutched their worn collars tighter. The distance between them and Ga-eul was far. It was a matter of nationality. Birth was essentially one’s status. Laborers from lower classes could not cross the line. The line drawn supposedly to protect Koreans. It was just a single red line, but it was absolute. Crossing without eligibility was a crime akin to attempted theft.

Clear discrimination. Yet, no one protested. Not only those who became superior, but even those relegated to inferiority. The media reported, day after day, on the crimes committed by some among them: murder, arson, theft, fraud, rape… The victims spanned all classes. And thus, those discriminated against became a whole defined by the hated part. “I am different.”

“I am—but am still treated as the same as you.”

Those crowded on the other side of the line scowled at each other. No one on this side even looked at them. Just being seen sparked suspicion. Police watched carefully. They, too, had low status. To reach Paradise after death, they needed to perform well. And so, laborers who could not speak Korean were no more than potential criminals to police officers struggling with the language. No, they had to be potential criminals. Self-love always preceded brotherhood. Empathy was the ability to kill oneself.

‘How nauseating…’

Ga-eul shuddered with disgust. The artificial grape scent of the energy pack eaten for breakfast climbed up Ga-eul’s throat. The throat felt parched. The inside of the nose burned.

Just then, the wind blew again. Sharp as a knife. The chill pierced all the way into the flesh. It was so bracing that Ga-eul felt a strange sense of relief.

With a gesture a little embarrassing if seen by others, Ga-eul opened the embrace toward the wind. The season sharing a name with their estranged sibling rushed into Ga-eul’s arms. The body felt the cold, but the mind felt warmth. Ga-eul was recalling the warmth of memories. Gyeo-ul had never liked winter. Every time it was cold, he never left the blanket. Ga-eul liked that—being able to hug him without awkwardness each time.

He must be terribly cold now, too.

Not the body—but the heart.

A static-laced electronic tone resounded.

[The inner circle line train for Hye-seong Group’s 3rd station is now arriving. Passengers, please board safely. The inner circle line train heading for……]

The train entered the station. The carriage to board was sparsely populated. It was rare for Koreans to work in physical reality now. To the foreigners who made up half the resident population, the native people of this land were often just intangible holograms. This was the dawn of virtual reality. Physical reality was already considered a dangerous space.

He was glad to receive extra pay for being outside.

On the other side of the line, commotion erupted. Those trying to exit and those trying to enter were jostling and fighting. A station worker shouted. The insults came in Burmese.

For Ga-eul, the meaning appeared as subtitles. It was a feature of the lens on his eyes linked with a mobile device. The shouting person was indicated with a line, letting Ga-eul know who was speaking. Any other utterances, unregistered by Ga-eul’s consciousness, self-filtered away.

Of course, if several people shouted at once, the subtitles often became jumbled due to device limitations. Since Ga-eul also managed workers, he wished for a higher performance device. Good ones came with improved filtering and voice conversion. But that was just a hope. Even the one in use was issued by the company.

‘I have to save it. Only use it for really important things.’

Shaking the head, Ga-eul boarded the train car. Most seats were empty. Ga-eul kept a distance from the few other passengers. Quietly, Ga-eul summoned Trinity. A dazzling array of interfaces appeared in vision. The world’s greatest artificial intelligence engine was responsible for Afterlife Insurance and many other domains—down to individual devices.

『Afterlife Insurance Central Concentration Department Visit Request』

Ga-eul called up the visit application form. Gyeo-ul, the season I lost—I have to go see him. It had always been difficult to get permission before. Poor people had low credit scores. At Afterlife Insurance facilities, security came before family longing. They said it was key to national competitiveness.

Now, with a stable job, things would be easier.

A job. Yes, Ga-eul had found a job. Hye-seong Group was famous for fairer employment contracts than any other company. Personal feelings had to be set aside. Gyeo-ul had already received a terminal diagnosis. He was extending his time left solely through his own effort. All for Ga-eul.

Ga-eul’s vision blurred. The form began to distort. Wiping away tears.

“I want to end this now.”

A single word from Gyeo-ul, worn out and exhausted. Of course, he had never actually said it. Gyeo-ul wasn’t the kind to hammer nails into a dear one’s heart. But Ga-eul had surely heard it. The expression, voice, and care that tried not to show—it was a voice that could be heard without words.

If no one else, Ga-eul could not be fooled. So Ga-eul replied.

“If you’re not here, I’m not either.”

Live, if only for my sake. Again, not actually spoken, but conveyed fully through everything but language. Every time those memories surfaced, Ga-eul felt self-loathing. I was so selfish.

“It’s all right.”

Gyeo-ul in memory smiled calmly.

A conversation where neither could show their true feelings. Ga-eul was glad, but aside from that, there was only pain.

Ga-eul pushed aside the incomplete application form.

What should I do? I don’t have the courage to go see him.

Just thinking about reliving that time made Ga-eul’s hands tremble. That’s right, the reason for so few visits was more weakness than procedure. Terrifying dread and ugly self-hate. Gyeo-ul, who could smile so casually in a hopeless situation, was a pain almost scary to Ga-eul.

Ga-eul’s upper body slumped. Covering his face with both hands, Ga-eul sobbed, stifling the sound.

“You bastards, you damned bastards…”

At first, the resentment was toward the parents. People who had sold away what never should have been sold. Then, that became resentment toward the old monsters who took the child’s body, then toward himself, unable to do anything, and finally warmed into resentment toward the whole world.

That child must hate the world, too. No doubt.

But…

‘Could he even resent me, too?’

Love and hate could always coexist. If Gyeo-ul showed even a trace of resentment, Ga-eul would not be able to endure it.

One more thing, unbearable. The possibility of giving Gyeo-ul a fresh wound.

Ga-eul couldn’t breathe.

#Intermission, polyamory

Dear customers, it’s been a while.

Yes! I haven’t gotten fired yet. Oh, don’t be sad—*I’d* be sad if you were.

A lot of time has passed since 『Plucking Stars from the Sky』. So many people went home with their hands full of stars, after I introduced it back then. Thanks to that, I received praise and criticism at once. Praise for boosting sales, criticism for the surge of customer complaints. I really don’t get along with customer satisfaction center reps.

Honestly, I expected this.

Those of you who bought multiple celebrity virtual personality packages at once. Let’s be honest: you didn’t read the user precautions, did you? Not that I blame you—you rarely read the revised terms and conditions of Afterlife Insurance, let alone a DLC’s user notes, right?

So let me explain the precautions you skipped, in a seductive homme fatale voice. Simple listening test: listen carefully and answer the question.

『◎ Precautions for Product Use – feat. system administrator』

Most celebrity-related and character virtual personality packages you’ve purchased include essential psychological control options. Basic setup includes meeting conditions and initial favorability.

There are even options that block virtual personalities from feeling romantic attraction to others. Very popular! Set it this way, and all romantic affection accumulates only for the player—meaning you’re guaranteed to win love, 100% eventually.

Wouldn’t it make you mad to pay all that money, only for your virtual partner to run off with someone else? You’d feel self-loathing for spending all that cash, wouldn’t you? Oh, but some people enjoy that kind of self-loathing too. We respect all preferences, so long as they bring us profit.

However—virtual personalities are imitations of human personalities. They have the full range of feelings a human might feel. If they can love, they can get jealous, too. The line between the two is blurry!

Of course, we know your empathy isn’t enough to treat AI like people, and—let’s face it—you probably haven’t had a real relationship yourself. But that’s beside the point.

Oh, can’t we just add jealousy-suppression as a default psychological control option?

You need to recall what “default” means: the bare minimum for stable product use. The provided psychological controls are only what’s needed to use the product normally. That’s the marker between standard and extra.

So the Star Wars you experience is beyond what we cover. It’s not a bug or a scam.

That’s the end of the explanation. Here are four customer responses to virtual personality jealousy. Choose the most appropriate.

① Fuck↗You↘

② My name is Annoying Customer. I’ve discovered my true customer identity. Yes, I am an annoying customer. Time to go complain at the customer center.

③ Shut up and take my money!

④ If that’s how it is, time to march to the Blue House!

Well? Too easy?

Uh… sorry, #4 is not the answer—though it does fit our dear customers’ style.

*Applause* Yes, #3 is correct!

The ultimate solution to all romantic drama you’ll encounter in virtual reality! Introducing the new DLC: the Polyamory Package!

The moment this package is applied to your worldview—poof, the jealousy is gone! All your lovers will calm down like magic. Even the most possessive character will turn over a new leaf if they fall for you.

If, however, you enjoy mild jealousy, don’t worry—we have an option to set jealousy intensity. It’s an selfish function just for you.

Frankly, the DLC’s name may not be entirely appropriate. Strictly speaking, polyamory is about believing there’s no limit to how many people a person can love—not caging boundless feeling in the rigid shell of monogamy.

Wow. How can anyone view humanity so positively?

We already know the truth: love is a feeling with obvious limits.

Of course, there are plenty of cases showing unconditional, infinite love. We hear impossibly beautiful love stories all the time.

But they’re rare—that’s what makes them tales worthy of praise.

How many people are even capable of that much love?

One in a thousand? One in ten thousand?

Let’s say, generously, one in ten thousand.

If only 0.01% of humanity could manage that mental state—wouldn’t that be called madness?

So, dear customers, forget political correctness and be honest about your desires. For most people, polyamory is just a common sex fantasy! Virtual reality sets humanity free! In VR, we can be our true, unadorned selves!

Ready to purchase a new kind of happiness?

Turn all the virtual personalities who love you into total lunatics!

Hahaha.

This has been an announcement from the Paradise Group Virtual Reality Division.

—————————= Author’s Note —————————=

#Conversation

Tunguska: These days, reading hate comments breaks my mental. It wasn’t like that at first…

Friend: Tsk tsk tsk

Tunguska: If only I break, it would be unfair—so I’ll break readers’ mentals, too.

Friend: Such innocent mischief.

#Q&A

Q. Bahoe: “No reproductive organs… Are they one of those ancient species where you just have to hold hands to have kids?”

A. Who knows. I hear that these days, after drafting a marriage contract and playing 15 rounds of Heroes of the Storm, whoever loses more gets pregnant.

Q. AntiChrist: “After buying Noblesse and receiving a manuscript coupon, I struggled through many works but never found one better than The Little Prince, so I use all of them here.

―〉 Here is the coupon WRYYYYYYYYYYYY”

A. Huh? What does that—Well, there’s always Wind and the Milky Way. Honestly, I want to pretend I agree, but I can’t because of my conscience and innocence.

Q. Lee Moon-se: “Nothing fills innocence like cash over votes. Here, take a bunch of manuscript coupons, haha.”

A. Thank you. I’ll eat them.

Q. Credica: “My pass period and my innocence shrink daily—what should I do now?”

A. In four years, run for US president, take over the White House, lock me in Guantanamo base, and whip me daily till I produce the next episode.

Q. Quieit: “When does the author recharge innocence? When there’s a scratch on your heart? When you’re sure you can fry meat for lunch? When you feel satisfied enough to take an objective look at yourself?”

A. When I finish writing, post it, anxiously wait for the first comment, and, seeing a positive one, think, “Now I can sleep.”

Q. Iron Kestrel: “These days, I read via Naver Books—do you not upload on weekends?”

A. Editors need weekends off, too. Truthfully, five-day workweeks should be guaranteed everywhere… It’s a bit sad seeing other publishers who have uploads even on weekends.

Q. Blue Crystal: “When does the paperback come out??? I really want a hard copy.”

A. Even I don’t know. I’ve heard it’s being worked on… Honestly, I’m not that greedy for print books… I only signed a contract including print copies as fanservice because readers wanted it… Hehe… I’ll check and get back to you.

Q. Xing Tian: “I enjoyed reading. As for why there’s no reply to my comment: (1) Major spoilers. (2) Important plot point later. (3) Too long, so you got tired reading. (4) Nothing particular to say. (5) Is this even a question? (6) Other. I’m curious which.”

A. Probably because I pulled an all-nighter and was dazed!

But if it’s (2), I couldn’t say anyway—itself’s a spoiler! Haha.

Answers for ch133 comments.

Experiences of the past episodes are actually reflected in Gyeo-ul’s usual actions and responses. To be honest, Gyeo-ul doesn’t behave childishly, does he? Like how he negotiates with Lichingen.

In typical regression stories, that “I’ve gone back so I know this for sure!” bit repeatedly comes up; I think that’s somewhat overly convenient.

Afterlife Insurance-protocol VR contextual computation varies by situation.

All the more so when the worldview itself is being deliberately changed. That’s what the Management Rationalization Committee story is about.

———————

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep