Chapter 8 : A Class Gate – Unwritten Characters (2)

There is no known clear condition for the A-rank Gate Bulimmunja.

This is because there have been no survivors, not even from the Demilitarized Zone where its influence reaches, let alone anyone who entered Bulimmunja itself.

It made sense.

Communication means unimpeded connection, and it was unlikely the Gate would passively allow intruders within its influence to communicate with the outside.

The fact that people were living in the Demilitarized Zone was something I had just discovered.

“· · – ·　 · · · ·　 · – · ·　 · · · ·” (TL Note: Morse code for HELP)

Their eyes were hollow, their skin stained red with scratch marks.

-Click.

I narrowed my eyes and aimed my Magic Bullet at them.
Though sound and violence were forbidden here, my Magic Bullet wasn’t that kind of thing.

I, too, was a Returnee from an A-rank Gate.
And unlike Bulimmunja, which scattered its power throughout the DMZ, the power of my world was entirely consumed by me.

This meant that unlike normal attacks, my attacks would fully connect.

-■■■! (TL Note: This represents the sound of the magic bullet, likely non-verbal or otherworldly.)

As the Magic Bullet fired, red flowers bloomed wildly.
The bullet, passing through the chests of the dead revenants, lost its power midway and dissipated, like an arrow shot underwater.

“…”

However, it was sufficient to deal with these weak revenants.
After a moment of silence for the revenants who turned into a handful of dust, I moved forward.

Unlike when subjugating B-rank Gates, the reason I didn’t attempt immediate subjugation with the Magic Bullet was that it was impossible to locate the Gate’s source.

Unlike ‘Vivid Four Seasons’, where the inside was dangerous but there was no effect until approaching the Gate itself, with ‘Bulimmunja’, the very act of approaching the Gate was part of the subjugation process.

-Trudge.

The sun still beat down strongly, and as I moved forward, the lushness of the undergrowth and the frequency of strange flowers and plants increased.

I felt like an assassin.
No matter how forcefully I walked or how much noise I made, the commotion vanished in an instant.

Even Rachel Carson, author of Silent Spring, could likely not have imagined this situation.
A situation devoid not only of birdsong but even the sound of leaves rustling in the wind.

In the eerie silence, I pressed further onward.

Towards the source emitting this mana.
To enter the Gate itself.

Finding the Gate was easy.
Just head in the direction where the mana grew stronger.

The problem was that finding it was easy, but getting there was not so simple.

-Grrrrkkk

I frowned.
My chest felt tight from the resistance felt throughout my body.
It was similar to wearing clothes that were too tight.

Turning into a spiritual form would alleviate it, but doing so might contaminate this place with my influence.
Since it was mostly a matter of feeling, I endured the unpleasant sensation and pushed forward.

And.

After walking for half a day, I finally encountered the A-rank Gate Bulimmunja.
The phenomenon occurring inside the Gate was within the scope of expectation, but that didn’t mean the phenomenon wasn’t dangerous.

The absence of writing.

The absence of language.

The absence of communication.

What existed beyond that was… a world of endless silence.

That is.
The absence of time.

A single scene remained perpetually frozen in petrified time.
No, even the word ‘perpetually’ felt strange.

If time stops, the word ‘perpetually’ also ceases to exist.

‘This… is incredibly familiar.’

The appearance of the Gate itself was quite different from what I had seen so far.

Shattered fragments, like those from advanced erosion, were scattered here and there, and the sunlight distorted within these fragments, warping the sense of perspective.

And the world beyond the Gate was familiar to me.
Perhaps most people born in Korea, besides myself, could empathize.

In the frozen time, two brothers wearing different military uniforms aimed guns at each other.

The background was a rural village exuding a pastoral sentiment, and another sun existing inside the Gate was setting, dyeing the fields golden.

Though I hadn’t lived through that era myself, I recognized the form of the military uniforms.

The uniforms of the Korean People’s Army and the Republic of Korea Army.
(TL Note: North Korean and South Korean armies, respectively.)

There were unrealistic aspects too.
Modern decorations were partially visible, and during the Korean War, battles likely wouldn’t have been fought in such normal fields.

But there was a sense of reality.
The scenery inside the Gate, evoking extreme realism through unrealistic expression, existed like a single painting, and the frame of that painting was still continuously expanding.

Further preserving the tragedy of the brothers forced to point guns at each other, vividly and statically.

What lies beyond the human subconscious?
While humans are called social animals, they also experience extreme stress in relationships with others.

Therefore, they yearn for the unchanging.
They praise love and friendship while indulging in the illusion of unchanging relationships, endlessly postponing the moment they must eventually face.

I truly understood that world.
I couldn’t help it.

Because I, too, was a lover who loved one person, I had wished more than once or twice for time to stop.

Even if it was just an illusion drawn from the subconscious, I deeply empathized with their circumstances.
They must have wished for time to flow no longer.

Afraid of the relationship’s breakdown, despite using the same writing and language, they must have wished only for time to stop, without actually communicating.

However……
I took a step forward and raised my gun.
My gun had somehow transformed into a shape similar to the ROK Army’s rifle.

I didn’t bother changing its form back.
This way would be better.

Being this close, I couldn’t help but know.

What I needed to kill was not those brothers.
It was the kind of relationship formed within that situation.

The brothers facing each other with guns raised might yearn for the next moment to never arrive, but…

‘It can’t be helped. I’ve realized it.’

Absolute and eternal relationships do not exist.

Even if I don’t communicate, even if I close my eyes and cover my ears, relationships inevitably change.
Because the absence of communication itself has an influence.

I knew that keenly.
Even if I didn’t want it, the world sometimes cruelly snatches away connections.

The relationship severed in the most extreme way left an indelible scar on my heart.
The brothers there would surely feel the same.

That’s a bit sad.
So I bit my lip gently and raised the gun.

Even if it was merely an illusion, as someone who returned from within it, I wanted to give them peace.

-■■■!

I raised the worn-out carbine rifle and fired two shots.
There were no misfires.

The bullets flew slowly.
Not at the speed of the Magic Bullets I usually used, but at the speed of ordinary bullets.

That alone was sufficient.
Ordinary bullets are faster than sound, and there was nothing they could do in stopped time.

-Thunk!

Clatter.
With such sounds, the rifles held by the brothers fell to the ground.

Then the brothers, who had been glaring at each other with bloodshot eyes, flinched and looked around with tense eyes.

“…Wh-Who are you?”

“Just a passing marksman. More importantly, don’t you two have something more important to deal with?”

Finally, uttered language began to flow through the air.

But the bound time was not severed instantly like the Gordian knot.
I could have done it.
It was just that I, not wanting to witness the tragedy, chose the difficult path.

Just as Alexander’s empire, which cut the knot with a single stroke, collapsed immediately after his death, a fast and certain method is effective but may not be the right answer.

In the tense atmosphere, we slowly began to untie the complexly bound knot through language and writing.
It was possible because we all used the same language and writing.

However, my words were not a crucial element in persuasion.
They merely served to aid their realization.

Bulimmunja (不立文字).

Because true enlightenment cannot be conveyed through words or letters.

“Aigo! Little brother. Let’s just run away. What’s the point of war and all that, huh?”

“Keuk. Heuk. Hyung.”
(TL Note: ‘Hyung’ is what a younger male calls an older male sibling or close older male friend.)

The brothers, who threw down their guns and helmets, wore different uniforms but their faces were remarkably similar.

Listening to their brief conversation, they had sensed they were brothers but couldn’t be sure because of the deeply pulled-down helmets and different uniforms.

It seemed likely.
In a war situation, seeing the opponent’s face is extremely difficult, and a single wrong judgment could cost one’s life.

I watched the scene from beyond the Gate.

It was quite a good sight.
Of course. Isn’t a living scene better than a silent film or a painting trapped in a frame?

“…It’s time to go now.”

The world crumbled as the Gate entrance began to close.
The world, denied from its very foundation, would slowly collapse and return to ash.

-Chirp chirp.

The sound of chirping insects was heard.
Only then did the beasts, freed from the prison of silence, cry out.
Unfortunately, there were no living humans left.

They had all been swept away by the Gate’s mana, painfully prolonging their existence, but they were people who had died long ago.

I calmly picked up the phone I had left at Panmunjom and transmitted the record to the Association.

A-rank Gate, Bulimmunja (不立文字).

Subjugation complete.