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Chapter 184



Chapter 184

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Addict I

1

A mirror symbolizes self-reflection, self-objectification, realization, and awareness.

However, the bathroom mirror is an exception.

The bathroom mirror, conversely, represents unfounded confidence, failure in self-objectification, an overestimation of one’s appearance, ignorance, and blind faith.

And there’s someone in my life who can be called the “bathroom mirror of Korea.”

Sim Aryeon? No, even she would be considered normal compared to this person.

The bathroom mirror of Korea. The owner of blind faith.

And the protagonist of this story is none other than...

“I am the Marquis of Yuldo Kingdom.”

“……”

“And I am the greatest in the world, both past and present.”

An elderly Sword Maiden with a talent for reducing people\'s sanity just by introducing himself.

“Sir.”

“……”

“…Your Excellency, the Marquis.”

“Hmm? Oh, Doctor Jang, I didn\'t notice you were here. It seems your ability to hide your presence is extraordinary, befitting someone with the highest internal energy in Korea!”

“……”

My head already started aching, but I couldn’t run away. There was a deep reason for this.

It was the 671st turn. Craftsman Noh Doha, who specialized in dealing with elderly people, unfortunately caught the Void Poison plague and was bedridden.

The bacteria, finding no one else to infect, had the audacity to invade Noh Doha. Truly, a brave germ.

As a result, I was the only one left who could negotiate with the elderly Sword Maiden and make a deal.

If you ask if there were no capable people left in the National Road Management, well... there weren’t. What do you expect in an apocalypse?

The talent pool of Korea after the collapse of civilization was about as competitive as Shu after the Battle of Yiling.

End of explanation.

“Your Excellency, the Marquis. It’s your turn this week to step on the soil of Gimhae Plains, but why have you abandoned your duties without a word? Because of this, the spring harvest this year is at risk of failing.”

“Bah! It’s such mundane matters that have corrupted the world! I have much more pressing duties!”

If you abandon those mundane duties, the citizens of Busan will all starve to death.

And after Busan collapses, the entire infrastructure of Korea will crumble like dominoes.

I engraved the word “patience” in my heart and maintained my business smile.

“…I failed to grasp your grand vision. It must be of utmost importance if you say it’s pressing.”

“Haha. Now you’re talking. That’s why I like you, Brother Jang.”

“If it’s not rude, may I ask what this pressing duty is?”

“Of course!”

Thud.

The Sword Maiden pulled something out from his long sleeve (yes, the kind of long sleeve you’d see in a historical drama) and placed it on the table.

“Behold! You cannot imagine how much I’ve suffered because of this strange and wicked thing!”

I looked.

The item the Sword Maiden described as “strange and wicked” was indeed peculiar upon closer inspection.

First of all, the body was long. And it had dozens of small, round things attached to it, like insect eggs.

The body was green, and the eggs were yellow.

Here’s the question: What is this?

“…Your Excellency, the Marquis.”

“What is it, Brother Jang?”

“This is just... rice, isn’t it?”

Yes.

The “strange and wicked thing” was none other than rice. The original form of the staple food that every Korean would recognize.

At my question, the Sword Maiden sighed heavily.

“Ahh, what a pity. Even someone like you, Brother Jang, couldn’t immediately identify it.”

What nonsense.

“I apologize for my lack of insight… but what is this object that looks like rice?”

“It’s opium.”

“Pardon?”

“I said it’s opium. Haven’t you heard of it? It’s a wicked substance that causes great harm if inhaled!”

No.

Of course, I knew what opium was. When you cut open the poppy fruit, the plant’s sap comes out, and when refined, it becomes opium.

It also has analgesic effects, and in the old days, elderly people in rural areas would secretly grow it.

Legend has it that due to the Korean habit of turning anything into side dishes, there was once a dish called poppy salad in ancient times.

The problem was that the plant in front of me, no matter how I looked at it, was just rice.

“So, Your Excellency… Are you saying that if someone chews on this strange and wicked thing that looks like rice, they’ll experience the same effects as smoking opium?”

“Indeed! Ah.”

The Sword Maiden added as if in passing.

“However, the effects aren’t exactly the same. Unlike opium, it has no addictive properties.”

“――Wait a minute.”

Unintentionally, I grabbed the Sword Maiden’s shoulder.

“…? What’s the matter?”

“No addiction? You just said this rice-opium has no addictive properties?”

“Indeed.”

“Your Excellency. If this is really similar to opium, meaning it has some narcotic components, then consuming it would make people feel very good, correct?”

“Hmm. Indeed.”

“But the fundamental problem with all narcotics is addiction and dependency. The more you consume, the more you crave it, you build tolerance, and your brain eventually can’t feel any happiness without it. All these side effects are collectively referred to as ‘addiction.’”

“Call it whatever you want.”

“I’ll ask again. Your Excellency, does this rice-opium truly have no addiction whatsoever?”

“Ah. Indeed, I told you.”

“……”

Pop!

A formula quickly formed in my mind.

Narcotics - Addiction - All Side Effects = ?

“No! Then this isn’t a drug at all!”

“Hmm?”

The Sword Maiden tilted his head.

“That’s an odd reaction. When did I ever say this was a drug? I said it’s opium. Opium, as you know, was a plant brought by the cunning imperialists of Europe to disrupt China…”

“Please start cultivating it immediately! This!”

Grabbing the Sword Maiden’s shoulders with both hands, I exclaimed.

“Go to Gimhae Plains and, along with catching up on farming, please grow this rice-opium or whatever it is!”

“What nonsense.”

The Sword Maiden snorted.

"Hah! It\'s outrageous enough that I have to report this root of all evil, which should be burned immediately, just out of respect for you, yet you expect me to cultivate it personally? Absolutely not! I will never grow it, no matter what!"

"By cultivating this and distributing it to the imperialists in Europe, I intend to settle an old grudge."

"I will start cultivating it right now, brother."

Fifteen days passed.

The Sword Maiden, who had never before shown such passion for farming, took to it with fervor, and the opium rice (with zero addiction) grew rapidly.

And then the testing began.

“Wh-why did you call for me, Guildmaster?”

“The Sword Maiden may have claimed there are no side effects, but if it turns out to be a lie, I’ll need you to handle it, Aryeon.”

“But, um, I’m really busy these days… I only came because it’s your request, Guildmaster…”

“Yes, thank you.”

I casually dismissed Sim Aryeon’s words.

Since she became the Saintess of the North, she’s started enjoying showing off how busy she is.

Anyway, the new drug testing drew all sorts of people.

Among them was Noh Doha, who had just gotten out of bed after a long illness.

“But is it really possible to have opium with absolutely no side effects? I thought the very way opium induces pleasure inherently damages the brain…”

“I don’t know. According to the Sword Maiden, it’s a plant he discovered by chance in the void. Anything can happen in the void, so maybe a side-effect-free drug could exist.”

“Sounds like a load of bull…”

I agreed.

But what if it wasn’t?

Then we’d have to redefine the term “drug.” It’d just be a medicine—no, even a panacea.

“Alright, everyone, please pay attention.”

Everyone in the testing hall turned to look at me.

“We’ll begin by testing five inmates from the National Road Management Corps’ prison, all afflicted with the ‘Murder Addiction Syndrome.’ The efficacy of the opium rice will be tested in solid, liquid, and gas forms.”

“…”

“And just in case side effects appear over time, the experiments will be conducted in stages of 1 year, 3 years, 10 years, 20 years, and 50 years. Yes, you there, Sim Aryeon, why are you raising your hand?”

“Guildmaster, um, can I, like, try some… just a little bit…?”

“No, you cannot. Let the testing begin.”

The inmates were each isolated in separate rooms.

Dark, enclosed spaces where nothing could be seen once inside. Each inmate was given a bundle of opium rice.

- Let me out of here!

- I’m sorry! I’ll never kill an innocent person again! Please, forgive me!

Bang, bang.

The sound of someone weakly pounding on a wall could be faintly heard, so quiet that only those with extraordinary hearing could detect it.

There was a red button in front of each of the five isolation chambers.

The button advanced time by one year inside the chamber.

Pressing it once made a year pass. Pressing it twice, two years. Theoretically, pressing it 200 times would make 200 years pass, and even billions of years were possible.

Of course, the chambers and buttons themselves were one complete anomaly.

Inside the chambers, survival was possible without food or water, though sleep was impossible. And escape was out of the question unless the door was opened from the outside.

In short, it was the perfect prison.

The National Road Management Corps frequently used this anomaly. With it, a sentence of 1,000 years could be served for real.

Since this prison was introduced, crime rates had plummeted. A prison sentence became more feared than execution.

“Chief Noh Doha, please begin with a 1-year sentence.”

“Sigh. Alright…”

Click. Noh Doha pressed the button in front of the first chamber.

The faint pounding sound from within rapidly sped up—bangbangbangbangbang—but only for a moment. In less than 0.01 seconds, the noise fell silent.

“One second has passed. Shall we open it?”

“Yes, please do.”

The members of the National Road Management Corps approached and opened the door to the first chamber.

Usually, inmates who had just completed their sentences came out insane.

Which made sense. Who could remain sane after being confined alone for anywhere from two months to 150,000 years (a sentence actually handed out) in a pitch-dark room?

Drooling, muttering incessantly, or becoming entirely unresponsive as though their mind had died—it was common.

But this time was different.

“Huh?”

The inmate who emerged from the first chamber appeared completely normal.

He was casually munching on the grains of opium rice.

“Has it already been a year?”

“…”

“Wow, thank goodness. I was so bored I thought I’d die. Haha. Am I free now? I swear I’ll never commit a crime again!”

The inmate from the first chamber smiled broadly.

No signs of mental illness or void addiction were detected. The inmate genuinely seemed healthy and unaffected.

“Hm…”

“Hmm.”

Noh Doha and I exchanged glances.

We immediately proceeded to the next test. Noh Doha pressed the red button three times, ten times, twenty, and fifty times.

The result?

“Finally, freedom!”

“Thank you, Lord of the Holy Light! Truly, thank you!”

“I’ll live a righteous life from now on!”

Amazingly, all the inmates who completed their sentences emerged in “good mental and physical health.”

Even after Sim Aryeon conducted thorough examinations, no side effects were found.

The inmates had endured isolation in the chambers, feeling nothing but happiness from consuming the opium rice.

“Doctor Jang, this is…”

“Yes.”

I nodded toward Noh Doha.

“Let’s start mass cultivation immediately. This…”

“…”

“This new plant will no longer be called the sinister name ‘opium rice,’ but will henceforth be known as ‘dopamine.’”

I am invincible.

The Sword Maiden is a god.

And dopamine can be replicated.


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