# 3
Meeting Myself in the Underworld 2
“Isn’t that… me?”
He couldn’t say why his gaze had drifted there. It felt like some indescribable pull.
But what was certain was that “Gang Chanho” was there. It felt like looking into a mirror—no, more like watching footage of himself taken from afar.
“.......”
Gang Chanho on that side was looking this way with a similar expression. Like everyone else, he bore a murky color close to black and white.
Did that mean he really was dead?
‘How can two of us exist in the same space?’
But there was something else he couldn’t understand.
The one over there wasn’t wearing anything like a hospital gown, but rather some very strange attire. Something made of leather that he had never once worn in his life….
“What the hell is going on?”
Just then, another Gang Chanho who had approached and stopped right in front of him asked.
But even without answering, somehow just meeting each other’s eyes felt like they could understand something.
Come to think of it, he remembered hearing something similar from someone here. At the time, he’d had no interest in such things and had brushed it off—an absurd story.
That there were many worlds.
That people sometimes met acquaintances from other worlds.
That there were those who hadn’t died in his own world, but had died in another and met here.
So if that story were true, didn’t that mean there was a possibility that the same person who had lived in different worlds could die and meet here?
Right now, Gang Chanho seemed to be experiencing a situation that proved that hypothesis.
“Did you die too?”
“No. They say I haven’t died.”
“Looks like it. Anyone can see it. …But in that state, it doesn’t look like you’re far off either.”
“.......”
That was true.
He had already gone back and forth between the darkness and this place about three times, and each time he came, Gang Chanho could feel his condition gradually worsening.
His skin color was growing murkier, and there were more needle marks on his arms and legs.
But that wasn’t what mattered right now. Acknowledging his current condition wouldn’t change anything.
“Did we get into accidents around the same time?”
“Accident? I wonder if you can even call it that.”
The Gang Chanho from the other world shook his head with a smile. It was amazing that he could smile even though he was dead.
“I suppose I should consider myself fortunate to have died without pain. The world I lived in… was hell.”
It hadn’t been entirely painless, but not as bad as he’d thought, the other Gang Chanho said. He had no idea what could have been so bad to call it hell.
Not that things were great on this side either—the state of the nation was bad enough to earn labels like “hell”—but somehow, he felt that the other world was fundamentally different.
“By the way, in that state, you probably can’t use that either, huh?”
“They won’t even acknowledge me.”
The other man jutted his chin toward one of the shops visible in the distance, and Gang Chanho followed his gaze to the same spot as he answered. Perhaps because he hadn’t fully died yet, none of the shops would deal with him.
Did they have some kind of customer service manual?
Something like, “Don’t treat them as customers until they’re fully dead.”
“Are your parents alive? On your side.”
“Parents?”
Deciding to sit down and talk, the two headed for a bench and exchanged questions. They spoke about each other’s worlds and the differences between them.
In the other world, his parents had been alive and well but had lost their lives due to unfortunate events. On this side, they hadn’t existed from the start. At Gang Chanho’s words that he was from an orphanage, the other him tilted his head.
“Different from the start.”
“Looks like it.”
There’s a word for it: parallel universes.
That the universe itself splits apart at a branch point caused by a particular choice or something similar.
But as they talked, it seemed that their worlds hadn’t split because of the human named Gang Chanho himself, but rather due to some trigger even before that.
“There’s no way I’m amazing enough to change or create a universe.”
“True that.”
Talking to himself was oddly entertaining.
They had lived different lives in different worlds, but their fundamental values and personalities had parts that aligned.
And unlike others who only exchanged a word or two, the other him explained in as much detail as possible what he knew about this place.
“I figured it was the underworld, but it’s quite different. No, maybe the concept of the underworld we always had in mind was wrong.”
Even now, there were people disappearing with a flash of light.
They were people who had purchased and used a slip of paper called a “Rebirth Ticket” from a nearby shop. Literally, they had been reborn.
“So there’s no heaven or hell?”
Using a Rebirth Ticket meant being born again with the memories of one’s previous life sealed away. Did that mean they just kept reincarnating like that forever?
“No. I don’t know about hell, but there is a way to heaven.”
He said there was indeed a passage ticket to heaven.
However, the price was so steep that ordinary people couldn’t even think of buying one. Only then did he understand why people were chopping wood like their lives depended on it in the distance.
“So that’s how they earn money.”
“It’s more like points than money. Well, same thing.”
He had wondered why the trees people cut down vanished into thin air just like that. And why they had to do such backbreaking labor even after coming to the underworld.
But that labor accumulated as points, used like currency at the shops.
“Though I do already have some points.”
“You have points?”
“From my previous life, I guess you could call it. Points I accumulated while I was alive.”
Merit points.
In other words, the more good deeds one did in life, the more points accumulated, and those points could be used even after death.
As he spoke, the Gang Chanho from the other world added that his merit points were a little over five hundred.
“Is that high?”
“Not at all. I think it’s because I killed living things.”
“Hmm. How do I check mine?”
“You probably can’t see it before you die. You can’t use the shops, after all.”
Apparently, to see one’s merit points, one had to use a sort of talisman sold at a specific shop.
Once used, he could check it whenever he wanted, but the problem was that the current him couldn’t use the shops.
“But if you already have points from when you were alive, why are you working like that here?”
“The more points you accumulate, it seems you’re reborn under better conditions.”
“I see.”
Were they cutting trees like that to be reborn in a better world under better conditions?
Come to think of it, he’d heard that the heaven-bound ticket was too expensive to even consider. He suspected there were also people working that hard to go to heaven.
Because no matter how good the conditions, there were probably many who didn’t want to live another life at all.
“What do the shops sell?”
“I haven’t been everywhere, so I don’t know for sure, but that side seems to sell passage tickets for rebirth or heaven… and over there, well, as you can see, they sell woodcutting tools.”
Some shops sold unique items, while others sold the same things as the rest.
The clearing in the forest was so wide it couldn’t all fit in one’s field of view, so it seemed identical shops had been set up in multiple locations for the users’ convenience.
Gang Chanho looked all around and eventually shook his head.
Right now, he didn’t belong here.
He was here, but he couldn’t make proper use of it.
“What are you going to do? Will you be reborn?”
“I heard the heaven-bound ticket is 100,000 points. If you do one tree properly, you earn about 2 or 3… so I think just being reborn would be better.”
“How much is rebirth?”
“It’s free. But you can’t buy it if you’re in the negatives.”
Apparently, some had such low scores that they had passed zero into negative territory.
“They say that can happen if you committed great evil in your past life, or many petty evils, or caused harm to many people. I bet some of those chopping over there are like that.”
If one’s cumulative score was negative, one couldn’t get out of this place on their own. Because they couldn’t buy a Rebirth Ticket.
In fact, this was a place without fatigue, hunger, or thirst.
If one wanted, it seemed possible to lie around doing nothing forever, but there was supposedly another mechanism to prevent that.
Staying here beyond a certain period of time caused a slight deduction in points. In that way, once one’s points reached zero, they would automatically be reborn.
If one started in the negatives, there seemed to be a bit more leeway, but they apparently couldn’t stay long.
Once that grace period passed, they would be reborn while still in the negative state… probably born into quite adverse conditions.
“I don’t think adverse conditions means it’s hard to survive itself. If that were the case, it’d be over too quickly.”
“Ah.”
“Right. Conditions where you live an incredibly arduous and exhausting life, and for a very long time at that.”
Even if one committed suicide to end it quickly, a considerable number of points would be deducted.
So most people usually worked here moderately to accumulate points, intending to live their next life under somewhat better conditions.
“If you’d saved the nation in your past life, your score would be incredibly high.”
“Are there people like that?”
“There are rumors. I also heard that if you have enough points for heaven, you might as well be reborn and live a life practically no different from it.”
“Hmm.”
Indeed, he couldn’t even fathom what kind of life one would have to lead to earn 100,000 points. Was it even possible for someone who lived a life worthy of being called a saint?
It might be easier to cut tens of thousands of trees here. Gang Chanho let out a bitter smile.
“At least you reap what you sow, so there’s little to feel unjust about.”
“That’s true.”
If you committed evil in a past life, you received an appropriate penalty.
Of course, from the victims’ perspective, if the perpetrator resolved it by merely chopping wood instead of falling into a fiery pit, they might weep blood. But at least the fact that it affected their next life seemed fairly reasonable.
“That’s all I know.”
“I’m grateful even for that. You’ll be reborn, right?”
“I should. It’s better to go quickly before my points get deducted for wasting time. Five hundred points probably isn’t great… but I think it’ll be better than my previous life.”
“Yeah.”
“Take care.”
The other him extended his hand lightly. Gang Chanho in the hospital gown grasped it.
Without the slightest hesitation. He’d thought nothing out of the ordinary could happen from a mere handshake. Or rather, should he say his heart was so light that he hadn’t even entertained such a thought?
“Uh.”
But then, that “nothing out of the ordinary” happened.
And it was something quite major.