The Designer I
By the way, the group called the "Library Society" has been mentioned several times, but we never really had the opportunity to explain it properly.
The reason why this thought suddenly came to mind is that during the 562nd run, Oh Dok-seo asked this question:
"Hey, mister. How do you join the Library Society?"
"Hmm? Why the Library Society?""Why? Because it's cool."
Oh Dok-seo occasionally got fixated on something out of the blue.
From the fashion choices of rappers with caps and jumpers, jeans that looked like they could drip like candle wax at any moment (including three holes), and chewing gum (fake) being chewed in her mouth, it was clear that Oh Dok-seo had a severe case of "Chuunibyou"—a terminal illness for those in middle school.
She prided herself on being a "Literary Girl," sharing common symptoms with other Chuunibyous. That is, she had a peculiar, ecstatic fascination with nouns like "library," "society," and "librarian."
According to a paper from the Korean Psychiatric Association, this disease is, unfortunately, incurable. The only treatment is for the patient to actually enter the university's literature department. How terrifying.
"Since you're a regressor who has gone through hundreds of runs, you must know the key members of the Library Society, right? Isn't that right?"
"Hmm…."I made a subtle expression.
"Well, I do know them, but…."
"Then introduce me to them! No, before that, tell me what the Library Society is all about. They upload entries in the SG Net's Encyclopedia of Anomalies, but other than that, they're a secret organization shrouded in mystery."
"...Do you really want to know?"
"Huh? What's with that all of a sudden? Stop being stingy and tell me everything you can."
"You'll probably regret it... Well, alright."
If you insist, I must oblige.
- Ch҉҉zz҉, today's music for you all is Mozart…….
Next to the table we were sitting at, a wooden vintage radio was playing music.
I took a sip of my Café au Lait, fueling my bright red tongue with engine fuel.
And then, I began to speak to the little Prophet in front of me.
The Library Society.
Also known as The Great Library.
No one knows exactly when it was founded, but it's a very old organization, a secret society at that.
Naturally, its existence is thoroughly hidden from the public. Even if the name of the organization accidentally gets exposed, people are likely to brush it off, thinking, "Hmm? Sounds like a plausible group in reality?" Thus, unlike the Freemasons or the Illuminati, who merely pretend to be secretive but suffer from exposure, they are on a different level.
"Oh... A secret organization, indeed."
Oh Dok-seo's eyes sparkled.
Even she, who usually looked at everything with a cynical, bored expression as her default, seemed to have a sense of romance.
I thought to myself, this is going to be trouble, but continued explaining nonetheless.
The exact location of the society's headquarters is unknown. However, there are rumors that it is in North America.
Branches of the society are spread worldwide. The Korean branch's hideout is somewhere in Cheorwon.
"Cheorwon? Why Cheorwon of all places?"
"To be precise, it's in Geunnam-myeon, Cheorwon, where there are fewer residents. Like any secret society, they prefer to avoid people's attention."
"Oh…."
The Library Society had been aware of the existence of anomalies long before the Gate Incident, possibly hundreds or thousands of years ago.
They collected information on anomalies, wrote strategies and manuals, and secretly trained "Librarians."
Librarians are specialists in combating anomalies. They are professionals who have sworn to dedicate their lives to eradicating or collecting anomalies, even if it means abandoning humanity and morality.
Librarians strictly follow a hierarchical order.
The hierarchy is known to consist of [Knight], [Baron], [Viscount], [Count], [Marquess], and [Duke].
Among them, there is only one Duke. The head of all librarians, the so-called Duke of the Black Library. Nothing is known about this person. It is even uncertain whether they are human or not.
"Wait. Then how do you address librarians with their titles? Like [Baron-level Librarian]?"
"Well, something like that. From the Count level, they also have separate titles. For example, a Count specializing in dealing with false books would be called the ‘Count of the False Book Tower’."
"That's so cool...?"
"Additionally, the suffixes of the titles change with the ranks. A Baron's title ends with 'Guan' (關), a Viscount's with 'Ga' (家), a Count's with 'Lou' (樓), and a Marquess's with 'Gak' (閣). For instance, the Marquess in charge of managing forbidden books is known as 'Cheon Hae-gak'."
"That's incredibly cool...?"
Oh Dok-seo's eyes grew more and more dreamy.
According to some stories... in the deepest depths of the Great Library headquarters, there is a kind of prophecy book called the "Black Notebook."
The Black Notebook is said to contain prophecies about the disasters that will befall humanity and the anomalies that will bring about the end of the world, written in very strange languages and characters.
To prevent the apocalypse that will come someday, to preserve humanity, to continue history, the librarians of the Library Society are still working somewhere in secret.
"――And all of this is bullshit."
Blink.
Oh Dok-seo blinked her eyes while holding the espresso I made her with one hand.
"Huh?"
Hmm. That's quite a nice reaction.
I smiled gently.
"Kiddo. The Library Society doesn't exist. Well, if you dig around, you'll find plenty of groups with similar names, but there is no organization that has been secretly working in humanity's shadows for thousands of years to counter the threat of anomalies."
"Huh? Wha-? Why? Why not...?"
"Because."
I slowly stood up.
"I, the Undertaker, am the master of the Great Library, the founder of the Library Society, the one and only Duke, the Duke of the Black Library."
"......"
Why. What's so surprising?
I gave a sly smile to the Chuunibyou bubble gum girl, whose lips were moving like a fish's.
Do you think the fake organizations I've created over a thousand years are just a few?
Playing the mastermind is always fresh and thrilling. I was always prepared to respond, "Ah, that was my plan," "That was also me," and "That, too, was me," no matter what incident occurred as an SSS-class Regressor.
However, no matter how much of a Regressor I was, I couldn't create something from nothing. That was a fact proven by the demon Parmenides in 500 BC.
I also had sources from which I was inspired—or rather, forcibly stimulated—to establish the Library Society.
The original existed elsewhere.
That point of stimulation began in the 46th run, from a radio broadcast presumed to have come from the USA, North America.
Since the collapse of civilization, humanity, which had enjoyed the era of videos, had regressed to the radio age in terms of cultural level.
And I was very familiar with handling radios from the early stages of regression. I even had the experience of setting up a broadcasting station to help Dang Seo-rin with her idol activities.
To boast a little... Legendary radio channels like "Nymphcalypse" and "Ravenclaw Busan Branch," which had countless listeners across the Korean Peninsula and even Japan, wouldn't have been able to take off without my help.
This wasn't just self-praise but an objective fact. Even the channel hosts often made such remarks.
-Oh, do you mean the Benefactor? Wow. Their help was truly invaluable for the establishment and maintenance of our channel! Until five years ago, I didn't even know how to operate a channel!
-The Benefactor, you say? Hmm. I've mentioned it a few times on the broadcast, but they are truly a person to be grateful for. Sometimes, we need rare materials or tools to maintain the channel, and if we ask the Benefactor, they procure them like a ghost.
Here, "Benefactor" referred to me. I had significantly contributed to maintaining the cultural level of East Asia after the apocalypse.
An event where famous radio channels gathered and broadcasted 24-hour relay on Christmas Day—dubbed the "Radio Festival"—was also planned by me.
Always be thankful to me, cultural citizens of East Asia.
For this reason, one wall of my hideout was always lined with radios.
The lineup was splendid. Starting with South Korea's first vacuum tube radio, the Geumseong A-501, followed by Sony's CF-580, CF-3800, Germany's Grundig Party-Boy 210, China's TECSUN PL-680, and more...
Among them was a radio made by the Zenith company called the K731.
You don't need to know what product this is. Just know that it's an antique from the 1950s, made of maple wood, and has a vintage feel.
You know those wooden wardrobes in old people's houses? This wooden radio had the same glossy texture.
-Ch҉҉zz҉, this is… the CP Foundation. The current situation is… ch҈҉҉zz҉.
One winter morning, that antique radio quietly whispered in English.
"Hmm?"
At the time, I was enjoying a cup of Café au Lait, savoring a bit of romance. Not fully awake from my morning daze, I stared at the radio.
'Did I... leave the radio on overnight?'
And here, it becomes clear why I'm not suitable as a protagonist for a horror movie. Because I have the complete memory ability, I never brush things off with, "Eh, it must be my imagination," or "Hmm, my memory is a bit fuzzy," thus never inducing frustration in the audience.
'...I didn't leave it on.'
My eyes snapped open. I immediately turned up the radio's volume. The static noise peculiar to radios blared up.
-Ch҉҉zz҉, Zone 7 has fallen. I repeat. Zone 7 has fallen. We used a nuclear warhead according to the protocol, but it had no effect.
A nuclear warhead?
Trying to suppress the noise and listen to the voice, it seemed the other person was an old man. He spoke typical Californian English.
-Oh, the dragon... The dragon has been released. It's all over now. Ch҉҉zz҉,. Can you see it? The giant shadow of the dragon beyond the mushroom cloud. It's over. The Foundation is doomed. The world is doomed too.
I turned the frequency dial back and forth. But with each move, the static noise echoed, and the old man's voice continued crackling without breaking.
The conclusion was clear.
"...This thing has become an anomaly."
I clicked my tongue.
Contamination.
Since the world started falling apart, various electronic devices getting infected by anomalies was a common occurrence. I called this phenomenon "contamination", “corruption” or "infection."
Especially CCTV, telephones, cell phones (the older, the riskier), computers, GPS navigations, radars, and televisions were dangerous. They were prone to malfunction at a fairly high rate.
In fact, the most lethal blow to human civilization was not physical threats like the Ten Legs but these "contamination" phenomena.
In the early days, the leaders of various countries who tried to combat anomalies with nuclear bombs merged with the almighty mushroom cloud, puzzled, "Uh? Why is the missile heading this way instead of the target?"
Radios were not an exception to contamination.
However, I had performed intense exorcisms on the radios I collected, so I thought they were relatively safe...
-This is Zone 7. I am Martin Russell, the chief director of Zone 7. After confirming the failure of the final barrier protocol in Zone 7, I moved to Bunker 24 and am currently attempting to communicate externally.
"Hmm."
-From the bunker, I can monitor the interior and exterior with CCTV, but many are broken. The remaining cameras are not expected to last long. If a rescue team is organized, please dispatch them promptly so that we can respond internally. Currently, there are six survivors in the zone, including myself. I am alone in Bunker 24, and the remaining five are scattered.
-According to radar, the entities that escaped containment are converging on North America instead of spreading worldwide. Why? What's the reason?
The radio content was quite strange.
Typically, radios infected by anomalies either mimic ghost sounds or launch nonsensical mental attacks.
-All Foundation personnel would already know this... Zone 7 is located on Molokai Island in Hawaii.
-If, by any chance, a civilian hears this communication, ignore it completely. And run as far away as possible from North America. Or enjoy a last supper with your family.
But this anomaly... claiming to be a part of a "Foundation" was genuinely mimicking a person.
It really felt like a human was broadcasting beyond the radio.
It truly seemed like someone was desperately, earnestly transmitting from somewhere in captivity.
Thus, during the 46th run, I couldn't help but be intrigued and wonder.
-Entities are indiscriminately destroying Foundation zones. Ch҉҉zz҉h҉҉zz҉,,. Oh, God! Please have mercy on humanity...
If this were true.
If the old man was really in Bunker 24 or whatever, if the "Foundation" existed, and if the entities that escaped containment were real.
What on earth was happening in North America?
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