### Chapter 400 – Room 206, The Curse Room – ‘The Demon King Who Revives After 100 Days’ (2)
—
As evening rolled around, Tobias stepped into a shabby bar after finishing his grueling workday.
People sprawled everywhere, intoxicated, with sounds of raucous noise piercing the air.
A typical chaotic scene for a pub.
This was also the gathering spot for Tobias’s colleagues.
One of his comrades, Henderson, spotted him.
“You’re late today, aren’t you?”
“I got disciplined for exceeding my meal time by 30 seconds. Had to work an extra 30 minutes.”
“Thanks for the effort.”
Soon, the host of the gathering, Pendleton, began to speak in a whispering voice to everyone.
“Tell me, is the current state of Paradise truly what our lord envisioned?”
‘Absolutely not.’
Tobias felt certain of that.
Though he had never experienced living in another city, life in Paradise was agonizing.
“The root of the problem is Mayor Leon Kadiloff. The Kadiloff gang has twisted the paradise created by our lord into a hell for their selfish desires.”
“Pendleton, what should we do then?”
“Good question. Peter, we need to get rid of the mayor.”
“What I mean is, ‘how’ should we do that? The Kadiloff gang has a tight grip on the informants.”
“…Listen, everyone. Have you heard of the ‘Voice’?”
‘Voice.’
The moment that word was uttered, Tobias nodded repeatedly.
A strange rumor had started circulating among the lower class of the city.
As everyone perked up their ears, a cold metallic sound echoed.
“Grade 3 citizen Pendleton. You are hereby arrested for conspiracy to rebellion.”
“What, informant?! Where are you—”
A man, belatedly realizing the situation, tried to escape, but a hulking figure blocked the entrance.
“Stop. Unless you want to die.”
And just like that, the situation ended.
*
– Kim Mooksung
I woke up being cast as a Grade 3 citizen, given the role of an informant.
There was no room to catch my breath; I was overwhelmed with excessive work.
Paradise was truly an incomprehensible hell.
The city’s design was bizarre.
A gigantic hemispherical dome covered the ground, within which millions resided.
The time citizens could see the real sky was limited to a maximum of 30 minutes a day—only when the dome opened for ventilation.
The indoor air quality was horrific; if anyone had a dust meter, it would probably flash red and scream to put on a gas mask immediately.
At least there was one good thing.
“Ugh, old man, this is horrendously exhausting.”
“I know, right? Loads of work piling up?”
This was my colleague, Cha Jinchul.
As soon as he got in the car, he glanced around cautiously and lowered his voice.
“Old man, I just thought while working that… doesn’t our job feel a bit like being puppets for a dictator?”
“Not sure if he was a democratic fighter, but we’re definitely the dictator’s weapons.”
“…”
“Just clear your mind. Be practical.”
“What kind of city is this? I’ve never seen such a filthy world before.”
I thought Jinchul was a simpleton, but even he started to wake up a bit after three days.
“It essentially promotes snitching, internal strife, and betrayal. At least that’s how life is for Grade 3 and 4 citizens.”
“It’s like they want us to fight amongst ourselves without poking the higher-ups.”
“…The quality of life is incredibly low.”
“It’s a cog in the machine.”
All humans in the city were like cogs, each with their respective roles.
The role of an informant was to control the city as the mayor’s lackeys.
“By the way, here’s a book I snagged earlier. There was one left in the library.”
After reading the ‘history book’ that Jinchul got through another route, I began to see some outlines or foundational settings.
About 180 years ago, the known world met an unknown demise.
At that time, the great hero, ‘The Lord,’ emerged, leading the people and establishing Paradise.
The inhabitants of Paradise were the last humans left on this planet.
“What do you think the situation is like outside the city?”
“Not sure… Seems like there’s no way to get out.”
“Old man, what should we do now? Where are our teammates?”
Time for goal-setting.
I had thought about this quite a bit the past few days.
“You understand why we’ve lost our strength, right?”
“When I woke up, I heard a strange voice. The Indomitable Reason, right?”
“Exactly. That unidentified power has weakened us during the process of suppressing all supernatural phenomena.”
“Honestly, I was surprised. It’s not just the gates to another world that are blocked. I feel like I’ve become an ordinary person who just exercises a bit.”
“No way, hold up. Calling you an ordinary person? You’ve turned from Hulk to a gorilla.”
“Well, let’s assume that’s true. I just had a feeling. The Indomitable Reason must be what you and Ahri, the Management Bureau want, right?”
“…”
“Clearly, you all must be thrilled? To forcefully suppress supernatural powers like that?”
“Well, it’s certainly been their long-held dream. Anyway, we need to find a way to overcome this Indomitable Reason.”
“Overcome, huh?”
“If it’s a tool, there could be a way to stop it. Otherwise, we’re just regular folks with some powers. We can’t shake the city at all.”
Jinchul nodded in agreement but threw out a question.
“Why don’t you seem too happy? Isn’t this what the Management Bureau has been craving?”
“…”
“Old man?”
“I think I understand the principle behind the Indomitable Reason.”
“Really?”
“The Management Bureau has studied it for many years. We’ve failed to develop it due to lack of technology. But in this world, they’ve succeeded.”
“Since you say it failed, how do you know the principles?”
“Because the direction of what we tried to develop is the same.”
“…”
“The outcome looks promising, but in reality… it’s a very… evil item.”
“Evil item, you say?”
“It’s probably the reason this city turned out like this.”
“Whoa, old man. Please elaborate.”
“If my guess is right, to create the Indomitable Reason, they must have killed insightful individuals beyond imagination. That’s not the end; they likely need constant human sacrifices to keep it functional.”
Jinchul was rendered speechless.
“The Management Bureau called the item they were trying to develop the ‘Furnace of Souls.’”
*
– Elena
I’m a Grade 3 citizen.
From what I’ve realized over the past three days, every human in Paradise has a role for the city.
My role is as an actress, relieving the public’s stress through dramas and films.
It seems I’m somewhat of a popular actress.
Even the crew and directors seem to take my mood into account; I’m basically a star in the real world.
What’s it like to be a super famous star?
They’re referred to as ‘celebs’ and have social influence that could surpass regular politicians.
At least that’s how I remember it from reality.
That doesn’t really apply in Paradise.
The only ones who might care if I’m in a good or bad mood are the crew or the director, who are also on the same ‘Grade 3 level.’
No matter how famous I am, in reality, I’m stuck as a ‘Grade 3 citizen.’
So, I have to put up with moments like these.
“Hmmm… Elena, did you write part of the dialogue in this script?”
“Yes. Isn’t it good?”
“Tsk, you’re pretty but empty up there, huh?”
“…”
“Well, without much perspective, I guess you can’t help it. This is your level.”
“…”
Inside, my darkened self—the dark Elena!—had to endure.
My fist started itching after listening to this trash for 30 minutes, but I still bit my tongue!
I must endure.
The trash-talking punk, Patrick, can be annoying, but he’s a ‘Grade 2 citizen’ and a high-level informant.
A Grade 2 citizen can kill a Grade 3 citizen without much reason.
“Still not answering, huh? Is your intelligence that low? Do you think being pretty means you can just shrug things off?”
“Phew… I’ll take the compliment about being pretty.”
“That’s indeed a compliment. If it weren’t for that face of yours, you’d be shot just for writing a script like this.”
“…”
“Be grateful. I properly revised your trash script.”
With that, the man handed me the censored script.
The first page looked like this.
■■■, ■■■ 시■ ■■장■■. ■■, ■■■.
■■님의 ■■■■■ ■■ 결■■■.
정■■ ■ ■■ ■■■ 이■ ■■ ■■■ ■.
Piecing together this jumble of letters, the sentence became:
“The mayor’s decision saved everyone.”
“…”
“What do you think?”
“It’s a great line.”
I could only imagine how a dictator’s regime on Earth would react seeing a script this heavily censored: ‘Whoa, this is just too….’
Other actors, directors, and staff present were left in shock after reading the high-level informant’s censored script.
“What the heck is this line—”
The moment one staff member let slip an exclamation.
— Click!
“Got a problem?”
Patrick aimed his gun.
“What? No way! The quality of the script was so impressive, I was moved.”
“Good to hear. Let’s get this shoot rolling.”
There was dissatisfaction with the script. Just not with the gun.
*
The people on set eventually settled into a rhythm, merely waiting for quitting time.
The director stopped suggesting retakes even when an actor blatantly flubbed a line.
Finally, the torturous drama shoot came to a close.
I held a fondness for the TV programs I starred in and the roles I took on.
Of course, I knew some dramas weren’t rated highly.
Still, each one was an experience with good memories.
Except for the one we just shot today.
Remembering the line I said made my head throb.
“Whoa! Mayor, Mayor! Your wisdom saved everyone!”
Just thinking about it makes me furious again.
The mayor, Leon Kadiloff.
Isn’t that guy a bit of a pervert too?
Did he actually want to see lines like that in a drama?
“Phew…”
I shook off my random thoughts and recalled the more pressing matter.
Where are the other comrades?
I know about Eunsol; she’s a Grade 2 inspector.
I haven’t seen her directly, but the director knows her.
Is there a Grade 1 citizen among us?
From what I’ve gathered so far, Grade 2 citizens form the upper echelon of the city.
At the very top of that hierarchy are the mayor, Leon Kadiloff, and his key officers in Grade 1.
Among us, if anyone could pull off Grade 1, it’d be…
Han Kain might be that person, right?
If he were Grade 1, he ought to be planning something to shake the city right about now!
Lost in such optimistic thoughts, I returned home and lay down on my bed.
…
…
…
— Plop!
As I tried to wake up upon sensing a presence, a soft hand covered my mouth.
“Shh.”
Luckily, I recognized the voice.
“Mmph!”
“Speak softly.”
“Ahri! How did you find me?”
“Oh dear! Mayor, Mayor! Your wisdom—”
“Yuck! S-shut up!”
Wait a second, that was too easy.
She must’ve seen me on TV.
“Elena, any luck finding comrades?”
“Sister Eunsol is a Grade 2 inspector. I don’t know about the others. Do you know?”
“Mooksung and Jinchul are both Grade 3 informants.”
“What about Kain?”
“I don’t know.”
“Really?”
Suddenly an idea struck me.
If she wanted to meet me, wouldn’t it be easier to just pretend to be a fan?
Since I’m basically an actress with plenty of fans, I’ve done signings on the street before.
“I don’t have a rank.”
“What do you mean—”
Paradise is a dystopia that’s half in hell.
The setting isn’t quite sci-fi; it’s a near-future world about 20-30 years ahead of reality.
Yet surprisingly, a word that completely doesn’t fit came out of Ahri’s mouth.
“I’m a follower of the Demon King.”
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