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HELHEIM SCANS
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Chapter 237: The Organ Recipient II
2
"Hmm. So, you're saying that long-term treatment happens automatically? If used properly, it seems quite useful…"
That was the first reaction from Chief Noh Doha after being briefed on the existence of Village Bus 44.
Indeed, it was fitting for someone who had a top-tier psychopath directly under his command. Even after hearing the news that healthy human organs were being effortlessly harvested, he remained this calm. Truly, the end times were upon us.
"Aren't you the one who first threw a death row inmate onto that bus, you madman…"
Beaten with facts, how cowardly.
In another instance, I secretly tested Noh Doha's MBTI, and it turned out to be ISTJ. No wonder dealing with Ts is difficult.
For the record, not that anyone cares, but Yoo Jiwon is an ESTJ. If you're noticing similarities between the National Road Management duo, it’s not a coincidence.
"But still, I don’t quite understand. What on earth does a bus have to do with organ extraction to create such a bizarre phenomenon…?"
Ah. On that note, as a scholar of the bizarre, I, Doctor Jang, had some theories.
"First of all, during World War II, there was a vehicle called the Gaswagen operated by the Nazis. It was essentially a mobile gas execution chamber, killing Jews with carbon monoxide from the engine. After the bus reached its destination, all passengers were dead."
"Holy crap. That actually existed…?"
It did. As expected from the maliciousness of Old Scho's homeland.
(For the record, Old Scho's family had been devout supporters of the Social Democrats for generations, a pure 100% leftist family.)
"It was eventually discontinued because too many complaint letters about the difficulties of cleaning the vehicles were received, but yes, it existed."
"Sigh… But that still doesn’t explain organ extraction, does it? It’s not like they were selling organs from gas-poisoned corpses, right…?"
"As for that, there was an execution bus right next door."
The execution bus.
It was a vehicle actually used in China. Instead of building a fixed execution chamber, they simply modified a bus.
A step forward from the gas chambers of WWII, executions on this bus were carried out with drugs instead of harmful gases. Since the bodies preserved most of their organs in A+ condition, they were ideal for trafficking.
"Holy crap. That actually existed…?"
It did.
Noh Doha's expression was starting to shift into “Maybe it really is justice if humanity disappears from the Earth," so I hurriedly added more.
"Even without the Gaswagen or the execution bus, buses often appear in urban legends. You know those films where you wake up in the middle of a Battle Royale with a bomb collar around your neck? Seen something like that?"
"I think I've heard of it…"
"All of those images combined probably gave birth to the anomaly known as ‘Village Bus No. 44.’"
So we ran a test.
"Alright. Prisoner No. 37, all you have to do is walk in front of that bus holding this book."
"What kind of book is this…?"
"Just a regular classic novel. Don't worry about it."
It was a small booklet of the Communist Manifesto by a German author, specially imported in its original language for this death row inmate.
"Take this book, walk in front of the bus, and shout like this. Got it?"
"Uh, yeah. So, you’ll really commute my sentence to life if I do this, right?"
"Of course! I’m Doctor Jang, best friend of the National Road Chief and mentor to the operations team leader. My word is law. Why? Do you want to go back and have your throat slit instead?"
"No, no. I’ll do it."
The inmate approached Village Bus 44 and shouted.
"Wo, workers of the world, unite――."
However, he never got to finish the sentence. The bus, which had been calmly parked until then, suddenly shot forward.
At about 300 km/h.
Screech—Boom!
The inmate, unable to react, became an ex-inmate. Splat. His remains splattered everywhere.
Among the mess, the arm holding The Communist Manifesto flew towards us and landed perfectly between Noh Doha and me.
Test successful.
"Looks like the Nazi Gaswagen influence is indeed present. After all, Nazis hated communists as much as they did Jews."
"Didn't you say the Chinese execution bus was part of the mix? Why would it hate communists then…?"
"Who knows? Don’t expect anomalies to have consistent logic. Or maybe it’s sophisticated enough to distinguish between the Soviets and the Chinese."
"That's some real bullshit…"
We moved on to the next test.
“Guildmaster, if we get caught, we’re in serious trouble…”
Sim Aryeon darted her eyes around nervously, clearly anxious.
We were currently at the Christ the Redeemer Cathedral of Mo Gwangseo, the heart of Pyongyang. Much like the Golden Throne of the Warhammer universe, the Eastern Holy Kingdom had its own sacred seat.
Next to us, seated on the throne, was the living god, the reincarnation of Jesus—Mo Gwangseo the Christ.
“If anyone finds out we’re messing with Mo Gwangseo, no matter how much power I have as the Saint of the North, I could end up executed.”
“Aryeon, don’t you trust your guildmaster?”
“W-what? I don’t trust you at all, though?”
“……”
“……”
“I’ll set up a 1-on-1 fan meeting with the DJ of Nymphcalypse for you.”
“I’ve trusted you for over a hundred million years, through all my past lives! L-let’s go, quickly!”
We quickly kidnapped Mo Gwangseo.
We had already prepared Bus No. 44 in a secret underground parking lot in Pyongyang, making sure no sound would escape by blocking the walls thoroughly.
"Wow, Guildmaster! When did you set up a hideout like this?"
- Scribe…
“Before the founding of the Eastern Holy Kingdom. There are lots of underground bases scattered around Pyongyang.”
- Scribe…
“Wow! Please teach me! Lately, it’s been annoying to deal with all these faithless heretics. It’d be so convenient to bury them in a place like this. Anyway, Guildmaster.”
“What?”
- Scribe…
"Hasn’t Mo Gwangseo been mumbling something toward you for a while now…?"
"You’re imagining things. It's just an anomaly, stuck in a fixed posture. It’s not like it can speak human language without Hayul around."
“Oh, I must be mistaken. Hehe, I thought—"
- Scribe…
"Now, on three, let’s open the bus door. One, two, three. Here we go."
We threw Mo Gwangseo into Bus 44.
Then.
Flash!
There was light.
Mo Gwangseo's body exploded, painting the bus windows red. But even this blasphemous red was bathed in his holy radiance, so it was bound to become divine.
"Oh."
"Aaah! M-my eyes! The light!"
Aryeon fumbled around, performing a scene straight out of an old anime, yelling, "My glasses! My glasses!" in a panic.
However, the sanctity of Mo Gwangseo did not end there.
Flash! Flash! Flash! Flash!
Splat! Splat! Splat! Splat!
Every three seconds, blinding light erupted endlessly from within the bus, and each burst was followed by blood splattering, painting the windows red as if with dye.
Bus number 44 had killed Mo Gwangseo, but Mo Gwangseo was resurrected once again, as always. It was an intense battle of pride between two anomalies.
Watching their duel could have been a form of entertainment, but I had a more pressing task at hand.
"Saintess, how is it?"
[… It seems the healing is taking place.]
My priority was determining whether the incurable patients were being cured.
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Night]
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The saintess had dispatched several Awakened individuals to observe the patients' conditions.
[The patients who were blind are recovering the fastest. One, two, three… it’s happening quickly.]
Though the Korean Peninsula’s healthcare system was generally poor, it had its exceptional points.
This was thanks to the existence of ‘Prosthetics Maker’ Noh Doha and ‘Crow Who Drinks Poison Sim Aryeon.
However, Noh Doha took an incredibly long time to craft each prosthetic.
Considering his duties as the National Road Maintenance Director, even 72 hours in a day would not be enough.
Noh Doha himself always wished to take on more patients, but I firmly limited the number. From experience, I knew he'd collapse if he overworked himself.
Sim Aryeon, too, was not omnipotent.
In fact, it would be a problem if she were. Absorbing too much aggro from the world would inevitably turn her into a corrupted being.
I deliberately skipped over the episode where Sim Aryeon becomes corrupted. But who knows, I might have to address it later, whether I want to or not.
‘If it turns out that the combination of bus number 44 and Mo Gwangseo has no adverse effects on incurable patients…’
If that were the case, the medical system of the Korean Peninsula would enter a new era.
I would even consider abandoning the fictional state of the Eastern Holy Nation if necessary.
Putting Mo Gwangseo on a bus would be more efficient than on a golden throne.
[The patients are continuing to heal. Ah.]
[Wait, Doctor Jang. …There’s something strange.]
Of course, that convenient future did not come to pass.
“What is it?”
[Some patients… Specifically, six of them are showing strange symptoms.]
[A halo has appeared above their heads.]
A halo. The ring of an angel.
[Wait, it’s not just the halo. The six patients are growing wings.]
[……!]
[The six patients have started to move. Doctor Jang, stop bus 44!]
I unsheathed Doha.
As my aura swept over, the bus turned into a pile of scrap metal. The anomaly was immediately destroyed.
From the crater left behind, where it looked as though a bunker-busting missile had exploded, light flickered—Mo Gwangseo had resurrected one last time.
[The patients… The winged creatures are flying at an incredible speed.]
[Their direction is toward Pyongyang, or so it seems.]
[They’re really fast. 300 km/h, no, they’re accelerating. 500 km/h, 600 km/h, and they’re still speeding up, heading toward Pyongyang. The closest one has already entered Pyongyang airspace.]
[Doctor Jang, their destination is likely…]
That place.
“Aryeon.”
“Yes, yes?”
“Come to the Guildmaster.”
“Yes.”
Sim Aryeon approached me without any hesitation and leaned into me. I raised my aura and enveloped both her and our surroundings with a barrier.
BOOM!
Almost simultaneously, the ceiling was torn apart. Debris and dust rained down relentlessly, bouncing off the aura shield.
I swung Doha to disperse the dust cloud.
Revealed through the hole in the sky was the form of an anomaly.
Aaaah.
An angel.
The saintess had said earlier that the patients were growing wings, and that description was both fitting and inaccurate.
The creature floating in the sky was entirely made of wings.
At the center was a gigantic, writhing eye.
Around this one enormous eye, smaller eyeballs stretched out in every direction, each covered by a wing-like eyelid.
It resembled the biblical description of an angel.
Aaaah, Aaaah.
The voice echoed from the place where the wings fluttered and the eyes rolled.
Then, thousands of beams of light surged toward me from the gaps between the wings.
“Hmm.”
A thunderous roar filled the air.
The underground bunker was dug even deeper. If there had been a mountain peak above us, it would have been obliterated by that laser strike.
‘If six of those creatures gather, each attack will be on par with Meteor Shower.’
Seeing that I was unharmed even after its attack, the ‘angel’ flapped its wings again. Without any cooldown, another barrage of lasers formed.
I swung Doha lightly.
A dark wave cut through the lasers at an angle, racing toward the angel.
Slash!
A diagonal line sliced through the dozens of wings. Unlike the angel’s thunderous attack, my strike was utterly silent.
With a faint sound, the angel was severed.
Aaaah. Aaaah. Aaaah.
Flap, flap.
The wings fell, one by one, like leaves drifting down.
Like a white magnolia bowing its head.
Once the late spring’s rain of petals had fallen, the angel vanished without leaving any remains.
In the ruins of the bunker, only the enormous wings fluttered about.
"……."
In silence.
Sim Aryeon looked up at me, saying nothing, just staring.
I smiled and patted her head. Only then did her blank expression relax, and she grinned widely.
“Sorry, things got a bit out of hand.”
“No, it’s fine. We can just clean it all up!”
“Is the land of Pyongyang cursed…?”
“Aren’t you going to use the bus? The village bus?”
“No, I will never use it.”
“Hehehe…”
Even after that, five more of those ‘angel’ anomalies attacked.
While dispatching them was easy, the aftermath was troublesome.
Every citizen of Pyongyang had witnessed the bizarre winged creatures flying from the sky.
Still, the situation was somehow resolved with Sim Aryeon calming the citizens. Given the extreme environment of the Eastern Holy Kingdom, the people treated Sim Aryeon like a saviour.
After finally returning Mo Gwangseo to the golden throne, I contacted the observation tower in Yongsan.
“Saintess, do those six patients who turned into angels have anything in common?”
[Yes. As you might have expected, Doctor Jang, all of them had suffered fatal wounds in the Void and were on the verge of death.]
“I see.”
I sighed.
“It seems that when too many of one’s internal organs are replaced with Mo Gwangseo’s, they turn into anomalies.”
[I think so too. If only one or two organs are replaced, it's harmless, but their identity changes once it exceeds a certain threshold.]
“The people whose organs were replaced by Mo Gwangseo’s parts became copies of Mo Gwangseo… Hence, they turned into angels.”
A bus is a mode of transport.
In the end, it was responsible for transferring something somewhere.
The passengers the village bus number 44 was transporting were none other than internal organs. All kinds of organs.
In other words, this anomaly’s true name was the "Organ Transfer Bus."
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Night]
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