I’m an Infinite Regressor, But I’ve Got Stories to Tell

The Taxpayer I

Speaking of public servants, it's curious how frequently they appear in Korean contemporary fantasy.

"Hello there! Oh, you're entering the Gate? Could I see your Hunter license?"

"Oh dear, your license has expired. Sir, I can't let you in like this. Please head to the Hunter Management Bureau and renew it."

"What? You're asking for a favor? Hah, what do you think we are?"

Take the "Gate Management Public Servant," for example.

In East Asia, people have loved public servants so much that they've applied a bureaucratic system even to the afterlife, ruled by the King of Hell, making East Asians fanatical civil servants.

A true East Asian should not fear monster waves but rather lament, "These savage monsters are so ignorant and unlucky that they haven't embraced civilization!" The right course would be to impart a bureaucratic system, creating a state system of king monster - middle manager monster - lower manager monster.

How could the sacred national law exempt an apocalyptic mess?

"Awakener Undertaker."

"Yes?"

"It's almost June. Have you filed your comprehensive income tax return with the National Tax Service?"

"Oh."

Noh Do-hwa's words snapped me back to reality.

"You're right. It's that time already. Thanks for the reminder."

"Heh, if you procrastinate, you'll have a headache later. They'll collect as they see fit. You should head to the tax office after work."

"Good point. Not that I can pay any tax... I'll get it sorted."

Yes.

Even in an era where the military's wrath had cooled and politicians' gold badges were buried in sand, where survival was a crude joke—

The National Tax Service still existed.

Today, let's talk about a small anomaly, the "National Tax Service Tax Office," which was the last remnant of the South Korean government.

KakaoTalk!

I first received that familiar yet strange KakaoTalk notification during my 56th cycle, on a spring day, May 4.

"Hmm?"

At first, I thought I had misheard.

After humanity drifted into the apocalypse genre, words like "phone," "message," and "communication" were purged from our vocabulary.

"Was that really a KakaoTalk alert?"

Skeptical, I checked my smartphone.

To my surprise, after nearly a year, there was a proud little [1] icon next to the KakaoTalk app.

Like an excited preschooler seeing their first KakaoTalk message, I hurried to read it.

――――――――――

[Notification Talk Received]

"The Republic of Korea Falls Again"

"A Nation of Citizens Dying Together"

A digital document from the National Tax Service has arrived.

Greetings from the National Tax Service.

May is the month to file and pay comprehensive income tax each year.

The National Tax Service has pre-calculated your income tax. Please check the notice below and file and pay easily via ARS phone (☎4444-4444).

■ Inquiry: ☎444

――――――――――

"......"

After reading the message, my mood deflated.

Or, to put it another way, the wind was taken out of my sails.

"Aw, come on. It's a ghost message."

Ghost messages.

After the apocalypse began, such anomalies would appear from time to time. It's one reason electronics were considered dangerous materials.

In this era of cutthroat competition, even anomalies struggled to survive.

To distinguish themselves from others, they diversified their ghost messages with ghost calls, ghost websites, ghost radios, ghost TVs, etc.

In reality, the only safe communication network in Korea was SG Net. Even that had a history of being corrupted by the "Hero Syndrome."

The solution to these ghost messages was surprisingly simple.

"Just ignore it."

Curiosity kills the cat, as they say. These days, curiosity is upgraded enough to hunt not just cats but humanity too.

By this point, there wasn't a government, let alone the National Tax Service. Ignoring texts demanding comprehensive income tax was the correct move.

But the very next day.

"Oh, hyung. Did you get the text?"

"Huh? What text?"

"You know, the one from the National Tax Service asking you to pay tax. It's causing a stir on SG Net."

"...You got it too?"

The situation changed.

"Uh, yeah... I got the letter."

"What? A letter?"

"Y-yeah..."

Sim Ah-ryeon handed me an already-opened envelope. The contents were identical to the KakaoTalk notification.

"This is serious."

An uneasy feeling crept up my spine, like a cold hand brushing my vertebrae.

"R-right? I thought it was a prank by the guild leader, but Seo Gyu got the same message..."

"Where did you find the letter?"

"W-when I woke up, it was next to my pillow..."

No need to mention it, but the guild base's security was airtight. In the 89th cycle, Go Yuri wrecked the guild in one blow, but that was just her being weird.

Even if it wasn't Arsène Lupin but his grandfather, it would be impossible to sneak past my surveillance and leave a letter in Sim Ah-ryeon's bedroom.

Assuming it was a human.

[I've received the same message.]

The Saintess's testimony dealt the final blow.

[This morning, when I opened my front door, a letter was wedged in the door frame.]

"What about the other Awakeners?"

[The same thing happened across the country. People with smartphones received KakaoTalk notifications, while the rest got letters.]

The Saintess's usually emotionless voice sounded even colder.

[Mr. Undertaker. No one witnessed "the moment the letter arrived."]

"What?"

[No one saw the postman delivering the letter.]

The Saintess explained what had happened in a guild she was watching in Incheon.

This guild, while not as strong as mine, had a fairly secure base. It was located underground with several layers of steel doors and numerous guards.

A simple diagram would look like this:

――――――――――――――――――

■ ♙ ■ ♙ ■ ♙ ■

Door Guard Door Guard Door Guard Door

――――――――――――――――――

The guards took turns staying awake, ensuring there was always a "sleepless presence."

Yet, this morning, every guild member woke up to find a letter.

Under their pillows.

"......"

[The same message was sent to ordinary people, not just Awakeners. Undertaker, I believe the "National Tax Service Comprehensive Income Tax Letter" is...]

"A significant anomaly."

[Yes. At least it's certainly affecting the entire Korean Peninsula.]

I couldn't help but chuckle.

...A mysterious entity was determined to collect taxes, even as a ghost.

-Anonymous: I called the National Tax Service, lol.

If there's one virtue crucial to surviving this harsh apocalypse, it's carefully testing bridges before crossing.

However, some Awakeners lived their lives with reckless abandon. These types usually met their end early, but occasionally, some lucky outliers stuck around.

That day's certification post on SG Net was written by one of these rare survivors.

-As the KakaoTalk message said, I called 4444-4444. Everyone told me not to, but I thought, "Hell, what's the worst that could happen?"

-When I dialed the number, it actually connected. Ring, ring, and a few seconds later, the call went through. There was an operator? A telephonist? Anyway, a robotic-sounding voice started speaking.

-I don't remember exactly, but it said, "This is the National Tax Service ARS Application Report Center. Please select the service you want."

-Then a weird screen popped up on my smartphone. The background was red with white text, and I took a screenshot.

Attached to the post was an image file.

――――――――――

National Tax Service

National Tax Service ARS Application Report Center.

[1. Comprehensive Income Tax Report]

[2. Additional Corpse Tax Report]

[3. Slave Workshop Unreported Status]

Data charges will apply in 3G/LTE environments.

――――――――――

The image file was grainy, with spots of noise. The red background and white text combination hurt the eyes.

It was far beyond the point of a wobbly bridge, already tap-dancing on the edge, but surprisingly, the author didn't stop.

-I have to admit, "Additional Corpse Tax" and "Slave Workshop" made me nervous, haha. That's the first scare point.

-I clicked the most normal option, "Comprehensive Income Tax Report." After all, the KakaoTalk message was about reporting comprehensive income tax.

-When I clicked, I heard static noise as the robotic voice guided me to enter my social security number. It's been so long since I last entered mine, I almost forgot it, haha.

-It felt like I was really filing my taxes, but at the end, it said I could pay by bank transfer. But hey, how can I transfer money these days when there are no banks?

-Luckily or unluckily, it said I could pay directly at the tax office. It told me to go to the "Pocheon Tax Office."

-That's the second scare point. My region is actually Pocheon, haha. How does this message know where I live?

-But I heard the tax office here was destroyed long ago, so I don't know why it told me to go there. I'll check it out and post an update soon.

The post ended there.

Naturally, the comments exploded in disbelief.

-Anonymous: Are you crazy? Why'd you call?

-OldManGoryeo: Another one's heading up to heaven.

-[NationalRoad] Officer: Make sure you post that update.

-Anonymous: If you're in Pocheon, aren't all Awakeners from the same guild? They'll figure out who you are.

-LiteraryGirl: Can't believe this hero's still alive.

-dolLHoUse: so dumb

-[Satisfaction] CookingQueen: Life is precious. Desires are fleeting. Aren't there more important things than trying to attract attention?

└Anonymous: CookingQueen, you're so kind.

-[BaekHwa] SixthGrader: Hoee! (>_<);;

-Anonymous: I'd bet my entire fortune this idiot is 100% dead.

I didn't criticize the poster.

Instead, I decided to use this opportunity.

"Seo Gyu, I'm going up to Pocheon for a bit. Watch the house while I'm gone."

"Huh? Pocheon? Why so suddenly... Wait, are you going because of that SG Net post?"

"Yeah. It's a newly appeared nationwide anomaly, so I need to check it out."

"Wow... You're really diligent."

I packed lightly and headed north. It felt like a leisurely stroll.

In my opinion, Pocheon wasn't too far from Seoul, and it was where Sim Ah-ryeon worked as the "Healing Angel" back in my 50th cycle. I was familiar with the area.

Within hours, I arrived in Pocheon. On my way to the tax office, I ran into a truly unexpected person.

"Oh?"

"Hmm?"

Strong build. Short, cropped hair. Too well-groomed for a post-apocalyptic survivor.

A young man who embodied the notion of a "well-raised youth."

"Ah, um, sorry. You seem to know me, but I'm not good at remembering faces. Where have we met?"

The young man didn't recognize me. Instead, he seemed slightly wary of this unfamiliar face.

But with my [Complete Memory], I could recognize most Awakeners. And this time, his face was particularly familiar.

"That's Lee Ju-ho, isn't it?"

Lee Ju-ho.

Back in the 50th cycle, he was the victim whose father was humiliated by the "OldManGoryeo Villain" Sim Ah-ryeon. Yet, he graciously forgave her.

That magnanimous young man stood at the path leading to the Pocheon Tax Office with a backpack and a smartphone.

Glancing at his screen, I noticed the familiar SG Net homepage.

"Could it be?"

A realization dawned on me.

"…So you were the one who wrote that post?"

It's a small world.

Footnotes:

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