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Pierre Martin.

A being that has become a terror on the African continent.

After the outbreak of the Third World War, the shaman, whose news had ceased at some point, was now confronted by Park Jinseong.

Though neither is in their true form, it inevitably makes for a bizarre encounter…

“Everything has another side. Without a divine perspective that allows one to see things from all angles, and without the omniscient power, how can one confidently assert ‘this is what it is’? Even a round stone appears different depending on where it’s placed or the angle from which it’s viewed; such is the principle of the world. A phantom is no different.”

“Indeed… If the nature of the shadow is to change with the light, then it aligns with what you’ve said, Monsieur. I too have strived to find the starting point of the shadow, the original, its root… But if all I can see is the shadow despite my efforts, what does it matter what form the original takes?”

Pierre Martin let out a low chuckle and turned to Park Jinseong.

“Look at the insects you brought, Monsieur… Their perspective differs from humans, and they cannot be the same. Even if they flew up to the same height as us, they would still be different. Is it rooted in their birth? A difference in species? A disparity in rank? If that’s the case, if the perspectives of insects and humans are different, what is above and what is below? Can one claim superiority because it’s human and inferiority because it’s an insect?”

His voice began to sharpen.

Though still sounding cracked, it resonated in the air like an echo from the abyss, growing clearer and stronger in tone.

“Humans see things that insects cannot. Insects perceive things humans cannot. Even while living in the same world and viewing the same world, this holds true. Even when gazing in the same direction, if what they feel and interpret differs, is it truly the same world or a different one?”

A gleaming madness.

Yet nestled within it is a profound mystery.

“If viewing one thing brings about such differences in perception and sensation, then what does that mean for the essence of that thing? If everything in this world is ruled by perception, and only perceived through the senses, then if we must conceive it in our minds to realize its existence, what is the true form of that essence? Does it truly exist?”

Hee hee hee…

“Monsieur, we see the shadow and live within it… If we shall never escape the shadow for our entire lives… what difference is there between us and the shadow?”

“Indeed.”

Park Jinseong gazed into Pierre’s eyes.

Within them stirred madness and profound mysteries, enlightenment and emptiness swirling together in a strange balance. Or perhaps it was a fleeting moment of peace and order. When considering the things that man had wrought in Africa and Europe…

But that does not make Pierre Martin’s words mere ramblings of a madman.

Though steeped in madness, they pierced deep into thoughts plagued with anguish, clearly harboring profundity.

“Pierre Martin, Pierre Martin. I ask you, if the world can only be perceived through our senses, then are we trapped in the prison of sensation? If sensation defines our limits, must we transcend those limits, or must we accept them and live within them?”

“Monsieur, sensation is an inevitable wall we must face because we are alive.

But what is sensation?

Even if we see and feel the existence of the soul, that too is sensation; even when we can perceive time and space, that too is sensation; even if we transcend the limits of the human species by transplanting those of other animals, that remains sensation.

To transcend the limits of sensation means to transcend the limits of humanity itself? Is it to awaken the thoughts and souls dormant within and perceive the surroundings? If that too is called sensation…

Then what does it mean to transcend sensation?”

If sensation defines our limits, what precisely is that sensation?

If through relentless effort or talent, one is able to feel something different, can that not also be called sensation?

In the moment of awareness, does that not become part of sensation? If sensation is an endlessly expanding concept, then what would it mean to transcend it?

“Monsieur, this is where the key lies… what defines us, what keeps us bound within the shadows. Our perception, the existential feeling that arises from that perception. Here, here is what I have long sought….”

Pierre chuckled, spreading his arms wide.

As if inviting one to look around.

As if proclaiming himself the master of this place.

“Look at this cylinder… Just a few decades ago, it would be an object seen only in sci-fi movies… A cylinder capable of cloning people… With skilled scientists, they could even create babies with edited genes.

See the tube connected to this cylinder? Once the ‘waste’ is disposed of with the saws and knives inside, the ‘waste’ is sucked into this cylinder… And thanks to structures designed by experts in fluid dynamics, it gets thoroughly cleaned after just two passes… Afterward, the culture solution descends from that tube above, and based on the cells in the cartridge… or the person contained within, a new person takes shape….”

Pierre’s face lit up with a joyful smile.

“Do you see that one? The oddly glued-together cylinder… That’s quite impressive. It’s a cylinder for forming beings while taking the risk of side effects. After realizing the high probability of failures or deformities, the scientists devised ways to utilize it regardless… It can almost be considered a prototype.

Do you see the sharp knives, needles, suturing tools, and lasers within? If there’s a deformity, they can reshape it to resemble the original form… Even if it is something far from human shape, they’ll make it into a human shape by any means… For something at the level of a meat chunk, they’ll do anything to create internal organs to ensure ‘survival’… Hahaha.”

Isn’t that truly impressive?

“I was in awe. To be honest, I had seen too much of the Chinese causing trouble in Africa, which didn’t sit well with me… But upon reaching this place, I couldn’t help but open my mind to it. Yes… It’s not without reason that Jewish merchants, Chinese merchants, and Arab merchants are called the top three merchants of the world. No ethnic group is as specialized in trading as the Chinese, I’ve realized this…

Isn’t it economical…!

In other countries, they’d merely try to reduce the probability of failure and prevent deformations… But they thought of it entirely differently! If deformity is an issue, then simply reshape it; if there are defects, just make sure it stays alive! This is an idea that couldn’t arise unless one obsessively seeks to save costs and make a profit…!”

Genuine admiration seeped from Pierre Martin’s words.

“Monsieur, did you see the drum when you entered?”

“Indeed.”

“Can you guess what’s inside that drum?”

Park Jinseong nodded in response.

“There would be waste.”

“Yes… there is waste….”

Waste.

A commonly used term, yet too profound to be employed in a facility capable of cloning people.

“Fragments of human bodies. Culture solution rendered unusable after a single use. Entities at risk of contagious cancers, etc.… That drum is filled with things like those… But do you know?

The amazing trading people were actively thinking of turning those into money….”

“Turning that into money? Ah, indeed.”

Park Jinseong nodded at Pierre’s words.

It hasn’t been long since the cannibalistic customs disappeared in China.

These cannibalistic practices can be traced back to records as early as the 21st century BCE in the ancient history of China, tied to acts meant to incite terror or for revenge. It is a practice closely related to the “revenge” viewed as a virtue by the Chinese, thus ensuring its prolonged existence.

Even after the fall of the Qing Dynasty, remnants of cannibalism persisted for a long time, with records of human flesh being traded. There were even instances in early 20th-century Moscow where humans were sold for meat.

Such a scenario is unthinkable now that the Communist Party of China monitors every citizen… But decades ago, when the surveillance system was inadequate, there were widespread urban legends that people were kidnapped and sold to restaurants serving human flesh in areas with a high crime rate or rough rural areas.

Some scholars even regard the eradication of such barbaric customs as one of the Communist Party of China’s accomplishments.

But would that not be mankind?

Taboos exist as things to avoid, yet simultaneously exist to be broken, and after those breaks, one becomes ensnared in a sense of guilt.

Just as those with power and wealth plunge into unimaginable luxuries and pleasures, so too do they engage in acts that skirt the bounds of normality and taboos as they seek to satisfy their rising thresholds of pleasure.

This narrative merely signifies that there are those in China who did likewise.

Yet it remains on the brink of taboo.

In modern times, that horrendous act known as ‘cannibalism,’ which is widely thought to have vanished, only differs in its distinction.

“I admired them and willingly paid the price for the information they shared….”

Park Jinseong watched Pierre.

And then he gazed at the few faces of skin hanging at Pierre’s waist.

“What was your wish?”

“Wealth and honor.”

“How was it granted?”

Pierre answered Park Jinseong’s inquiry.

“It made me realize that it is akin to a phantom….”

The skins appeared untouched by hardship, with their fine complexion.

They were pierced through the ribs, presumed to have been taken from their owner.

“Indeed.”

 

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