I’m an Infinite Regressor, But I’ve Got Stories to Tell

"Let\'s have a meal together sometime."

That\'s right.

To Koreans, this phrase doesn\'t actually mean meeting up to increase insulin secretion when you\'re really hungry.

To interpret it precisely,

"We are not allies, but at least we declare that we are not hostile to each other at this moment."

Every country has sophisticated diplomatic expressions like this.

For example, when a Japanese person from Kyoto asks, "Would you like some ochazuke?" it doesn\'t mean "Wow! Traditional food! The Japanese are so kind!"

If North Korea launches a missile, the automatic AI translation in your head should process it as "Please notice us! We\'re here too!" instead of "Damn Southern bastards, die!"

It\'s the same with "Let\'s have a meal together sometime."

If you respond to a Korean\'s statement with "Sure! When? Tomorrow? Next week?" the other party will seriously question whether this diplomatic relationship is worth maintaining.

And there\'s one common diplomatic statement that transcends national borders:

"The end of the world is coming soon! Everyone!"

"Hell is coming! I can see the scenery of hell with my eyes! Get on the new ark before the hellfire pours down!"

"I am the Son of Heaven and the Savior. Those who believe this truth will be blessed, but calamity will follow the disbelievers, this I declare."

It\'s the doomsday prophecy of cults.

Anyone who lives with their brain\'s translation function always on knows that the proper interpretation of "Someday, the world will end!" from cultists is: "But if you donate, we might be able to extend the deadline."

People who don\'t understand this basic diplomatic language are a minority in any country. The marginalized weak who are excluded from international diplomacy are always exploited.

And then the Void arrived.

“Wow! The end of the world really is here! The guru’s prophecy was true! Guru! What should we do now? Should we start the mass suicide you mentioned?”

“Uh.”

The brains of anomalies didn’t have a translator installed. Of course, they couldn’t understand the subtleties of human diplomacy.

On the day the Void arrived, cult leaders worldwide felt an involuntary urge to ask the anomalies, "Are you seriously that clueless?"

“No… what I meant was, just because the end is near doesn’t mean we have to commit suicide…”

“Guru, stop talking nonsense and hurry up and kill yourself.”

Most cult leaders found themselves on the receiving end of the clueless accusation instead.

But they didn’t need to be too sad. Their followers weren’t mean enough to completely abandon their gurus. They kindly completed the “prophecy fulfillment” achievement together.

- Breaking news. This morning at around 11 a.m., evidence of mass suicide was found in a facility in Chungcheongbuk-do…

- According to police investigations, there is no clear connection between the recent series of collective incidents…

- The terrorist group that occupied the Seoul subway has been identified as members of a certain cult. They committed mass suicide once a day, including their leader…

It was a harsh season for cult leaders.

There had never been such an unemployment crisis. Running a cult required more stringent choices.

However, in troubled times, heroes always emerge.

In the Korean Peninsula, two cult leaders successfully overcame countless suicide suggestions and declared, "I want to live! With you!"

Entry number one.

“All Awakeners must join the New Buddha to escape the sin of killing as soon as possible! Those who don’t are going against the will of Hwaeom! They are disruptors of universal peace!”

“Immortality without killing! Spiritual Hwaeom! Eternal cosmic peace!”

New Buddhism.

Coincidentally, a monk in central Korea who had settled in his city saw the zombie virus, the Udumbara, and reached enlightenment.

The faith that wearing flowers on their heads would make them immune to anomalies resonated deeply with modern people who doubted the performance of their mental translators. They willingly replaced their brain translators with more eco-friendly materials.

New Buddhism rapidly expanded its influence, dominating the Korean Peninsula, the Japanese archipelago, and the Chinese continent. At one time, South Korea\'s most popular export was not K-pop but K-religion.

Of course, once I started defeating the Udumbara, it lost all its influence. The monk and his followers booked a one-way ticket to Nirvana.

Entry number two.

“Understood! Brothers and sisters! I, your shepherd, will lead the way!”

“As expected of our leader!”

“Mo Gwang-seo! Mo Gwang-seo!”

Mo Gwang-seo.

Like all pioneers of new doctrines, Mo Gwang-seo had a unique background.

He was a double excommunicate, first excommunicated by the Catholic Church from the Mary’s Ark of Salvation, then again by the group that excommunicated him. He was truly an unparalleled cultist.

When you multiply a negative by a negative, it becomes a positive. Unusually for a cult leader, Mo Gwang-seo had a mathematical brain and was convinced he was on the right path of faith.

His followers numbered around 210. He didn’t even rank among the top cults on the Korean Peninsula, but Mo Gwang-seo didn’t mind. After all, Jesus had only twelve disciples (one of whom respected Brutus more than his master).

Mo Gwang-seo\'s confidence was not without basis.

More accurately, he created the basis.

“What’s that smell? Leader, what is that?”

“Ether.”

“Pardon?”

“This is the holy ether that will guide me to heaven, contained in this barrel.”

The latest chemical substance Mo Gwang-seo called ether was also known as gasoline.

Indeed, Mo Gwang-seo proved he was on a different level from other mediocre cult leaders.

Before his followers could even hint at wanting an explosive show like the one they heard the next-door cult leader had, Mo Gwang-seo had already prepared gasoline.

“Brothers and sisters! Fire has always been holy ether! It purifies the worldly filth and brings us closer to heaven! But cleansing the filth is no easy task, so as a soul who has penetrated the six spiritual realms, I will pave the way and guide you all to the heavenly kingdom above.”

The commonality between a rock star and a cult leader is the importance of performance on stage.

As soon as his speech ended, Mo Gwang-seo doused himself in oil from head to toe.

The smell of gasoline was so strong that even someone with pollen-impaired senses in spring could notice it.

“Everyone! You must do the same. Each of you must penetrate the wind path I create with all your might, so the souls left on earth can easily ascend! And let the world be saved by the merciful light of glory and the blessing of love! In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen!”

Mo Gwang-seo quickly ran outside the hall. He had received a normal education in South Korea and knew what would happen if gasoline ignited in an enclosed space.

Incidentally, he majored in film directing in college.

“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen!”

“Leader! Leader!”

Moved by the cries, a few followers shouted “Amen!” and chased after the cult leader. One particularly fast follower easily caught up to the leader and hugged him tightly.

“Leader! I’ll go with you! I’ll pave the wind path with you!”

“Oh- ohhh!”

Perhaps Mo Gwang-seo intended to keep running and escape.

After leaving the followers\' sight, he might have planned to detonate pre-set explosives to make it seem like the leader sacrificed himself to ascend.

Then, if he returned a few days later, he would appear to the followers as a resurrected messiah. This would be a textbook example of turning a crisis into an opportunity.

What Mo Gwang-seo didn’t account for was that his performance was so brilliant it overly inspired the followers.

“Let go! Let go! Don’t touch that—”

Boom!

According to survivors, an explosion occurred near the parking lot of the hall. Even if Mo Gwang-seo had doused himself in oil, simply catching fire wouldn’t have caused a massive outdoor explosion.

Mo Gwang-seo and the two followers who went after him were blown up on the spot. Particularly, Mo Gwang-seo’s body was torn to pieces and burned for a long time.

“The leader has ascended!”

“The leader has paved the wind path!”

“Ah, holy. Amen...”

Had the story ended here, it wouldn’t have been different from countless other cults that sprang up and naturally dissipated right after the Void’s arrival.

As always, misfortune struck when the curtain didn’t fall at the story\'s end.

“Huh?”

“What is it, Mr. Kim? Don’t change your mind now, just douse yourself with gasoline.”

“No, look! Look at the leader’s ascension site! That’s...!”

“What?”

As the remaining followers were preparing for a group immolation in the parking lot, someone pointed.

There was light.

This wasn’t a literary interpretation about logos meaning light in the Bible. The literal ‘light’ appeared near the outdoor parking lot of Okjeong Lake in Okjeong-dong, Yangju, Gyeonggi Province.

Step. A human silhouette walked out from the center of the light.

“Oh, ohhh...”

It was Mo Gwang-seo.

Backlit by the light, Mo Gwang-seo looked as if he was surrounded by a halo.

Thud. The followers kneeled without hesitation.

They wept.

“A miracle...”

“The leader has resurrected!”

Smirk.

Mo Gwang-seo, or rather, the being the followers believed to be Mo Gwang-seo, did not answer. He merely smiled kindly.

But that was enough for the mentally conditioned followers.

Like heroines in light novels falling for the protagonist’s head-patting technique, the followers washed their tears with tears, kissed Mo Gwang-seo’s feet, and pledged eternal loyalty.

“It’s a resurrection! It’s a miracle of resurrection!”

Now, the followers no longer needed the wind path to ascend to heaven.

The very place where the resurrected Jesus existed, this land, was the holy temple.

They didn’t hear trumpets, nor did they see angels, but those trivial details didn’t matter. To live as a cultist, you must have the courage to ignore life\'s trivialities. And the 200 followers were indeed courageous.

“Chairman Mo Gwang-seo was the resurrected Jesus!”

“Oh! Amen! Amen!”

“I am saved! We are saved!”

Mo Gwang-seo won.

Where? In the religious war.

In this land called the Korean Peninsula, a jar of despair with 20 gods and 50 resurrected Jesuses waging eternal crusades, Mo Gwang-seo was chosen as the last man standing.

Now, Mo Gwang-seo’s cult was reborn as the \'Resurrection Church.\'

“Spread this miracle far and wide!”

“Believe in the miracles of holy water and holy fire!”

“Evangelize and evangelize again! Amen!”

Followers of the Resurrection Church traveled across the country with holy water—gasoline—marked on their foreheads.

While New Buddhism absorbed followers from the Buddhist sects, the Resurrection Church voraciously devoured Christian believers.

Of course, other cultists became the most tempting prey.

“What? Apostatize? How dare you! Our leader received the Eucharist from the Pope, and it turned into flesh and blood in his mouth, and our statue of the Virgin Mary shed tears 500 times, and we have photos and evidence!”

“So what? Our leader resurrected.”

“What?”

“Our leader is the resurrected Jesus. What can you say to that?”

Mo Gwang-seo’s resurrection didn’t end at one. The first time was hard; the second, third, and fourth were easy.

Every Sunday, Mo Gwang-seo was engulfed in gasoline and set ablaze. And each time, he walked out of the light, beaming a merciful smile.

“Ah, ahh!”

“Do you believe now?”

“I believe! Amen!”

The material ‘evidence’ other cults boasted of was nullified by the vivid resurrection show before their eyes.

Sinning by killing the person they believed to be Jesus every Sunday was justified before the mission of evangelism. It was unrealistic to expect rationality from them.

Attending Sunday mass and then returning to their base, the apostates immediately arrested the ‘false prophets.’

“You Satanic bastards! Do you think you can do this to me and get away with it?”

“Shut up! You are Satan!”

“What, what?”

The competitors who were gods and Jesuses yesterday turned into Satan overnight.

Followers criticized themselves for being deceived by the Antichrist and poured the holy water from the Resurrection Church on Satan’s head.

“Please, spare me! Please, spare me!”

“Let the ether purify the filthy soul. Amen.”

“Amen!”

Holy beacons ignited across the country. Naturally, stories of the Resurrection Church began to reach me, who was active between Seoul and Busan.

‘...What the hell.’

My eyes grew cold.

There was nothing special about cults themselves. They had always been prevalent on the Korean Peninsula.

Ever since Hwanung hypnotized a perfectly normal bear, saying, "You are not a bear anymore, but a human," this land had been famous for mental brainwashing.

But the Resurrection Church was a bit different.

I was a sound Korean. So, as soon as I heard Mo Gwang-seo’s story, the AI translator in my head worked furiously.

A being that keeps resurrecting?

But doesn’t understand human language?

Glows and smiles silently with each resurrection?

‘...No matter how I look at it, that’s not a person. It’s a human transformed into an anomaly.’

Indeed.

These cultists were no longer content worshiping humans and had started venerating ‘anomalies’ as Jesus.

Footnotes:

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