Chapter 70: Chapter 70

00070 --- The Little Prince in the Ossuary----=

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#Past (5), Psychotherapy (1)

The woman turned the wheel. The car departed from the city streets.

She was heading to the Central Agency of the Afterlife Insurance Agency.

There was someone she wanted to meet.

She could only meet them here.

The road leading into the facility was bleak. It felt like entering another world. The barbed wire enclosing the expansive area was built in three layers, with high-voltage warning signs attached. Beyond it, a concrete wall was erected, with watchtowers placed every 30 meters.

There were no people in the watchtowers. Only unmanned turrets controlled by the Afterlife Insurance surveillance AI were present.

Soldiers at the checkpoint waved red batons when they spotted the vehicle.

The woman stopped the car in front of the barrier.

The approaching soldier was startled upon seeing her. She was slightly taken aback as well. Does he know my face?

No, it wasn't that. He was simply too straightforward to maintain eye contact easily. The woman habitually covered her face, resting her forehead on her fingertip and peering through the gaps. The soldier regretfully extended his hand.

"Identification, please."

The woman retrieved her ID card. The soldier took the card and swiped it on a portable terminal. Beep, beep, beep. A green light illuminated the device.

"Afterlife Insurance personnel. Access granted."

After reading her identity and purpose of visit, the soldier nodded and returned her ID.

"You made a reservation in advance. Please proceed, doctor."

Luckily, her fake identity wasn't exposed.

She could enter freely with her true identity as well, as she was indeed indirectly associated with the Afterlife Insurance. However, she didn't want others to know she was visiting.

The barrier lifted. The woman carefully pressed the accelerator.

The car entered the southern parking lot of the central agency. The parking lot was vast, anticipated to accommodate an enormous number of visitors when initially established. The area visible above ground was just the tip of the iceberg. There were twelve more expansive underground levels. The predictions proved correct just after introducing the Afterlife Insurance, as an endless stream of people wished to visit their kin whose consciousnesses had been extracted.

Things were different now. The parked cars could be counted on two hands.

Was it due to the stringent visitation procedures?

Afterlife Insurance was the world's most advanced virtual reality-artificial intelligence composite system and the largest growth engine of the South Korean economy. Thus, countless countries, corporations, and organizations coveted the technology.

There were also physical threats. Extremists, opposing the Afterlife Insurance and artificial intelligence due to political, religious, or ideological reasons, often executed terrorist actions. These were frequent subjects in the news.

The communication path between Afterlife Insurance subscribers whose consciousness had been extracted and the outside world was limited to 「Telegraphy」, necessitating a multitude of security programs in the process. While unilateral transmission like broadcasting might be no issue, two-way communication posed hacking risks.

Ultimately, visits with those housed in the facility were only possible within the facility itself.

What the woman knew and what was generally known to the world ended here.

'No matter how you see it... this place feels too desolate.'

There were 800,000 consciousnesses housed in the central agency alone. Didn't their families miss them? In the face of deep affection, neither distance, time, nor complicated procedures would hold any meaning.

The woman entered the building.

The central agency, the consciousness storage facility of the Afterlife Insurance Agency's central region, was grand and overwhelming. People mockingly referred to this building as the "Ossuary."

It was a form of sarcasm. Why waste money on appearances when the people inside couldn't see them anyway, they said. The government answered it was for national prestige. But she knew another reason. Historically, politicians loved public works and construction.

Nonetheless, there was a positive aspect. The durability of the central agency exceeded that of a nuclear power plant.

The woman quickly surveyed the building's interior. There were more guards than visitors.

A waiting line was drawn, yet no one queued. A lone guide drone flew in from the hangar, conducting facial and iris recognition to verify identity and reconfirm the visit request.

"Dr. Song Soo-ah, did you request a meeting with Winter Han, afterlife Insurance registration number B-612?"

"The meeting request was pre-notified. Winter Han has accepted. As he is currently in a standby state, the meeting can proceed immediately. Would you like to be guided now?"

"Understood. I'll guide you to the B-grade area."

The flat, round drone descended to the floor. Once the woman stepped on it, it began sliding along.

The facility's structure was asymmetric and radiative. Centered on the Great Hall, long corridors extended in seven directions. Seen from above, it resembled spokes of a wheel with one side worn away.

Each direction also marked the boundary of a different area. The criteria for distinction were the deposit amounts. S-grade was the highest, and F-grade was the lowest.

Accordingly, the B area corridor was shorter than those of C or lower areas and longer than those of A or higher areas.

The drone decelerated. The inscription "B-612" in black letters appeared on the white wall.

The meaningless greeting was meant for herself. The drone slightly tilted its body in a bow-like gesture.

"If you complete the meeting or wish to move to another location, please call for the guide drone. The control AI can detect voice calls in all areas related to the Afterlife Insurance facilities. However, please note that voices below 10 decibels may be challenging to detect."

The drone flew silently away.

The surroundings fell silent. The woman now looked straight ahead. Serving as both a virtual reality terminal and a life support system, the B-grade device revealed only one side. It looked like a circular door mounted on the wall. Inside the wall, a long cylindrical shape might be concealed.

The woman approached and placed her hand on it.

Inside this might be the brain and spinal cord. That thought made it feel extremely cold.

She shifted her gaze to the side. There was another circle there. It was a full-body connection device for visitors. As she touched the blinking button, the pod quietly slid out.

It was a space for a single person to lie down.

The woman lay down, and sensors adhered to the back of her head and nape. It had the texture of lukewarm liquid. An augmented reality interface soon filled her vision. As she activated the equipment, the pod retracted into the wall again.

The enclosure was for protecting the user during connection from external threats.

There was no time to feel claustrophobic as brainwave patterns functioned as both the ID and password. The login occurred automatically, and the pre-written information sketched her virtual self. Different appearance and different voice.

A white world unfolded immediately.

The boy waited for her in the empty white space, the "Lobby."

His gaze felt different from before. It was clear to the point of emptiness. He exuded a serene and detached atmosphere.

Too different from the figure in her memories.

She let out a soft groan. She had thought of various greetings to say upon meeting, but in the end, no words emerged, and she could only habitually cover her face.

Her head was buzzing with confusion. She felt like she wore a mask, yet paradoxically felt she hadn't. If it wasn't an illusion, it would be problematic as she wasn't prepared to face him truly as she was.

She couldn't even explain to herself why she came, why she wanted to meet him. All she knew was she couldn't endure without coming. Day by day, she felt her blood vessels were getting clogged.

Maybe it was sympathy, or perhaps she wanted to atone for her sins.

No, the latter was absurd. She didn't love him, so why would she?

The boy who had quietly observed spoke first.

"Hello, ma'am. I've been waiting after receiving your message."

His voice was remarkably calm.

The woman barely managed to compose herself. An instinctive smile formed, and she returned the greeting, infusing it with as much warmth as possible.

"Hello. Are you Gyeo-ul?"

The voice coming out felt foreign. That fact quickly eased her agitation.

Taking a step forward, she extended her hand. Though puzzled, the boy grasped her hand briefly. A light handshake.

"As you may already know, I'm Song Soo-ah. I'm involved in the psychological rehabilitation of Afterlife Insurance subscribers."

"That's a bit strange. I've never heard of such a thing before."

His curiosity was more innocent than doubtful. The woman felt a slight tension but delivered her prepared response.

"Yes, that's right. You're a special case."

"It's rare for afterlife insurance to apply to minors. It's almost impossible for someone your age to procure a sufficient deposit. Among minors, you're the only one in the B area."

Gyeo-ul nodded. Retired adults could convert their national pensions into afterlife insurance, but it was practically impossible for minors to do so.

The woman felt even more relieved. Since the boy couldn't meet anyone for a comparative reference, her excuse would remain valid indefinitely.

"Before we start, may I change the environment here?"

The "Lobby" where the two stood was left in its default setting. Gyeo-ul nodded again.

"I'll transfer the authorization to you."

The woman confirmed the transferred authorization and opened her palm. The bleak whiteness disappeared, replaced by a setting conducive to comfortable conversation. Windows admitting the clear breeze, warm lights, chairs inviting lazy recline, and serene nature sounds from outside.

This was based on her personal experience of receiving therapy. She had plenty of experience to feel confident in imitating a counselor's approach.

"Please, have a seat."

Gyeo-ul obediently followed her instruction, then asked awkwardly.

"What should I do now?"

The woman crafted a gentle smile as she sat, slightly askew facing him.

"You don't need to force anything. Just think of it as a chat. The content doesn't matter—it can be trivial, incoherent. Just bringing out what's inside is enough."

"Yes. Sometimes, as you talk, you learn about aspects of yourself you didn't know."

This was also her objective. She continued speaking, concealing her true intentions.

"Understanding who you are, what pains you, and what dreams you hold is essential. Even if you can't solve a problem, knowing it's better than being completely unaware."

Here she paused, reflecting on herself. The boy silently observed, a hint of question in his gaze. But it quickly vanished.

Gyeo-ul shook his head.

"Sorry, but I don't think it's possible."

"I don't know what to say to you. Today is the first we meet, and we hardly know each other. Can a meaningful conversation even happen in such circumstances?"

His response was anticipated. She crafted another smile.

"That's right. To me, you're just one of many people. To you, I'm the same. We don't yet feel we need each other."

The boy's expression was ambiguous. However, her prepared words weren't yet exhausted.

"Words can be surprisingly inadequate when people first become acquainted. They're easily misunderstood and hard to construct. Instead, simply being together is a good starting point. As you grow familiar with each other, conversation will naturally commence."

"I'll visit at designated times and dates from now on. Will that burden you at all?"

"No, I have plenty of time anyway."

"Great to hear. If you need a chat partner, don't hesitate to call on me."

And that concluded the session. She kept her word. A book summoned, she began to read. It was another piece of her orchestrated performance.

Initially, Gyeo-ul was uncomfortable with the silence, yet it soon grew familiar.

His thoughts unfolded naturally.

Today marked two months since the transaction day.

Having a real person nearby was a rarity after such a prolonged time.

Yet, distinguishing the difference was challenging. Even surrounding real people did not feel distinct. The sensation inspired by it was likened to the weight of stone. Nᴇw novel chapters are publɪshed on n͟o͟v͟e͟l͟f͟i͟r͟e͟.net

Gyeo-ul centered his focus on the feeling. There was a nebulous sensation seemingly within reach.

---------------------------= Author's Note ---------------------------=

1. For those who've read "The Little Prince" before, the last conversation might feel strikingly familiar.

The title wasn't adorned pretentiously with "The Little Prince" without reason.

2. I received requests to organize the settings separately. I've temporarily compiled an intermission and uploaded it alongside the textual setting. I'll gradually tidy up the rest.

It's a busy time. Today, after attending reserve training, I've continued writing. On the 28th, I must accompany my mother to the hospital and need to contact the publisher...

Q. Artiroon: @I suppose influence will increase... does that game continue until characters die of old age?

A. I previously refrained from answering this, considering it a spoiler. But on reflection, it's not particularly significant.

After the Apocalypse is essentially open-world but ends when the AI predicts the humanity within that world can no longer face extinction. The reward is substantial experience, yet continuation is possible.

Q. Lizad: @Broadcasting the process of your writing would shower you with various virtual gifts and the souls of humans! People are bound to offer themselves!

A. There's no need. I've consumed enough human souls to tire of them.

Q. Dohwa: @How about becoming secret friends with us!

A. Are you referring to Steam friends?

I barely have time to use Steam... but my Steam nickname is fructidor. Is this how one shares it?...

I'm unfamiliar with adding Steam friends.

Q. ciaf: @If you intend to change the title, could you retain the current one as a subtitle? It's too precious to lose.

A. I also think it's a waste. I'll preserve it as a subtitle if possible.

Q.破雷: Wouldn't chemical rounds tossed at mutant-concentrated cities simplify matters?

A. Chemical rounds are kept as an option due to potential survivors. As with Santa Maria, survivors unexpectedly emerged.

Cities like Los Angeles and San Diego have numerous survivors remaining.

And there's another reason, to be revealed gradually.

Q. JovialClown: @I want to write a review, but explaining the writing based on the vocabulary I know seems too challenging; even Korean's magnificence doesn't suffice...

A. Brief reviews are perfectly acceptable! I value all kinds of reviews.

And should Korean prove difficult, english is welcome.

Q. kissshotshinobu: @As you write novels with your feet, what do you do with your hands?

A. I don't have hands...