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[ Where are you rushing off to so busily? Let’s just have a little chat. ]

[ You’re jamming some weird duckbill thing into your mouth, so you can’t even talk! Is it that the fish bit your tongue off? Your face looks all green, like a water ghost! Oh dear, my hand’s turning blue too! We’re both just a couple of blue creatures. ]

Muffled words spewed forth from the water ghost’s mouth.

The utterly chaotic combinations of words somehow seemed to fit the situation, yet there was an unmistakable feeling of something being off.

Bound by the dominance of their thoughts from life and constantly worn down, they were bound to be imperfect. Filling the worn-out gaps with something else, and when that wore away, stuffing in another. That mishmash was precisely what now spilled from the ghost’s mouth.

Thus, it represented nothing more than a string of meaningless words, akin to the babbling of a poorly trained AI.

Even when they spat out language, it wasn’t based on anything from their lives, but stemmed from everything they saw and heard in life—like things heard from people in other regions or seen on TV, dramas, and the like.

Yet, even that babble connected with beings in the same predicament.

People could easily discern the true meaning of those words that only invoked a sense of bizarre fear.

Mockery.

The water ghosts sliding in on ice chunks were clearly mocking the water ghosts that resided in the Root of Belladonna, infused with their uniquely wicked emotions.

It was no different from laughing at someone unaware who stepped into the water only to be caught and drowned, resonating with the cruelty of a child playing with insects, mercilessly killing them.

[ ———-!!! ]

[ —Kyaaah! ]

The presence of mockery marked the unmistakable tilt in the battle.

As evidence, the water ghosts currently living in the Root of Belladonna were being mercilessly bitten and torn apart.

Those water ghosts crossing over from what could be dubbed the land of ghosts were each terrifyingly strong compared to regular water ghosts, and their numbers overwhelmed those of the existing ones.

They swarmed in twos and threes, biting, tearing apart, squashing, and ripping them to shreds, absorbing their bodies—it was far beyond what they could withstand.

Moreover, the act of devouring or tearing apart the same ghost came so naturally that it seemed like a matter of course.

As if it were a matter of pride that they hadn’t been absorbed by other ghosts in North Korea, despite still having plenty of ground to cover, their behavior was each more lethal, as if they were proclaiming to overcome the wear of time and claim that spot.

Thus, the water ghosts in the Root of Belladonna were annihilated in an instant.

The water ghosts who tore apart thoughts and spirits, with only those who smiled brightly, having satisfied their spree of tearing and breaking left behind.

[ Hehehehe. ]

[ Uhhihihihihi! ]

For Park Jinseong, this was a delightful miscalculation.

Originally, Park Jinseong anticipated that the battle would be fierce, but it had overwhelmingly turned into total annihilation instead.

Thinking of the plan to either exterminate or subdue the remaining native water ghosts during a later visit to the Root of Belladonna, the conclusion was absurdly easy.

Yet, well, it was better that way than to have water ghosts immediately rush at him as soon as they spotted a person, scrambling to put him in the same predicament they were. Instead, using ice chunks and energy as delicious bait, they were more like hunting dogs, fulfilling the minimum causal condition necessary to subdue or handle them.

In other words, it could be considered a stroke of good fortune.

However, it would be foolish to just barge in without at least knowing what lay hidden in the Root of Belladonna or what the facilities might contain.

[ Using what I found in the sea to form a torso and weaving arms and legs with seaweed, I move the squishy head atop it. It resembles a human form closely, and since it is a sacred being born and raised in the sea, those that belong to this sea must obey my summons and bear me on their shoulders. ]

What he needed to do was reconnaissance.

After sharing vision with the puppet, he would conduct a ‘safe’ reconnaissance using the water ghosts as escort troops.

* * *

Faith is born from fear and awe.

Yet interestingly, it’s not just the feelings of fear and awe that impart a sense of powerlessness to humans that give rise to faith. On the contrary, the instinct and reason of humans striving to overcome that fear and awe also frequently create faith.

Overcoming fear, conquering the unknown and making it knowledge, pulling awe down from its pedestal to a place like one’s own—such willpower. And after repeated attempts, what was abstract would transform into something concrete, merging with culture to become a story.

Humans are storytelling beings.

So they naturally name their faith, attach narratives, and sing of them.

To tell their stories,

To tell the story of faith.

Yet among those ‘stories,’ few carry on into the future.

They often disappear due to wars or disasters, or accidents where those who knew the stories are wiped out. Interestingly, such occurrences are far too common as well, as they merely seem to fade away.

That’s due to the absence of records.

What isn’t recorded vanishes.

Those who remember forget, those who recall die, and those who remember turn away.

Thus as time flows, that story becomes part of culture, part of customs, or simply phases out leaving behind only traces. It’s a pitiful end compared to what was born from awe and fear.

Then, what is the reason for the absence of such records?

Is it because there’s no writing?

That’s possible.

Is it because those who can properly use writing were lacking?

That makes sense too.

In the past, illiteracy was very common, and simply knowing how to write was a form of power.

Thus, power holders in the past wished to use writing themselves to maintain control and intentionally obstructed commoners from learning it.

They would label writing as ‘sacred,’ stating that only priests or those of noble blood could use it properly. They conjured fear by saying that there was magical power contained in writing, making them wary of handling it. They would even raise the difficulty of learning to the extent that those too tied up with survival couldn’t even attempt to learn.

So both points hold water.

However, do you know?

It’s rather fascinating that the lack of continuity in faith and superstition has another reason.

And it’s not just confined to one region, but can be intriguingly found worldwide.

That is the ‘fear of record-keeping.’

The fear that documenting something sacred or terrifying might invite misfortune.

The dread of casually recording divine things and possibly facing divine punishment.

The compulsion to only transmit it orally, mouth to mouth, instilled by this fear.

Such fears have been discovered across the globe.

It’s an undeniably interesting trend.

Seeing such commonality between people who’ve never met or interacted…

Perhaps this is because the essence of faith is fear; hence the actions of people trying to evade that fear are likewise similar?

Much like hiding to avoid external threats, could it not be an instinctive behavior stemming from humanity’s genes aimed at preventing a predator from spotting their weaknesses?

Considering that it often fades away, gets distorted through oral tradition, and eventually devolves to a level where it merely serves as a warning to children… perhaps such behavior from humans might be correct.

This too was one method of overcoming fear.

This remains an utterly captivating topic.

The patterns of human behavior, the fading and altering faith, the instincts imprinted in humanity’s genes, and so forth…

Fields like cultural anthropology, sociology, anthropology, biology, and many others.

It can be said that there are countless subjects that could capture interest and merit study.

“…Haha. I can’t believe such things existed in the Root of Belladonna.”

Countless researchers.

People affiliated with universities.

Those who research with sponsorships.

Individuals conducting personal research with their own wealth.

People traveling the globe and doing field research.

Many researchers exist in the world.

Among all these researchers, there could be someone who creates a research institute in a horrific area like the Root of Belladonna, where water ghosts swarm. Maybe they’re secretly researching something socially sensitive or have circumstances that require them to keep it from the world. And perhaps, in that place, they might be studying those previously mentioned ‘fascinating subjects.’

But…

What Park Jinseong’s puppet, sharing its vision, observes is.

The research conducted in a hidden research institute within the Root of Belladonna is truly something special yet cruel.

“Artificial faith, a form of faith….”

 

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