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Park Jinseong, having heard about the ‘Clue to Immortality’ from Ashtosh, turned the car around and returned to Korea, giving up on going to China.

“The closest one is in America… Ra.”

Immortality…

For some, it is the ultimate goal. For power holders, it is a treasured prize they desperately covet. Those who had gained power in the past yearned for it, and shockingly, many lost their lives in pursuit of that treasure but never gave up.

However, for Park Jinseong, it was merely a means to an end.

A means to achieve his goals more easily.

Yet its value was immense, making it a treasure that absolutely could not be ignored.

“Isn’t there a difference between walking and driving?”

The Cost of Magic is truly severe. Even if mitigated somehow, the damage accumulates in the body, and later on, it becomes nearly impossible to recover by ordinary means. It manifests as what is commonly referred to as an ‘incurable disease’ within the body.

The types of incurable diseases are numerous, ranging from the famous to those not reported in academic circles at all.

Eventually, it became so severe that it could literally be described as a living corpse. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say he was merely breathing with sheer willpower.

Of course, this was something Park Jinseong brought upon himself.

Every time he discovered a type of magic that demanded some cost, he utilized it without hesitation, leaving no chance for his body to endure.

In fact, he could consider it a stroke of luck that he hadn’t died unexpectedly.

With every breath, every blink, every walk, an unimaginable pain struck him. Even living with a dosage of painkillers close to a lethal amount couldn’t alleviate the suffering.

In stark contrast, his body was severely damaged, unable to feel sensations properly.

Did he say it was painful to breathe? If that were true, then he should have been rolling on the floor in agony from the pain of the wind, yet strangely, he felt no pain when stabbed or shot.

Isn’t it amusing?

While breathing, eating, and moving came with immense pain, he felt none for the very things that should cause pain.

Even when a knife pierced his insides, he felt only pressure. Even when a bullet tore through his body, creating a gaping hole, all he felt was discomfort.

Such a phenomenon is impossible unless the nerves themselves are completely out of whack.

Yet, when his guts regenerated, even ingesting a near-lethal dose of fentanyl caused pain…

It’s truly bizarre.

Everything was a mess.

The levels of pain, the mechanisms of feeling it—all were pure chaos…

And with such a body, Park Jinseong roamed the world. At times, relying on drugs, and at other times, not relying on them at all.

Exhausting the one part of his body that was still functional—his brain—and forcing forth endorphins.

Thus, he traveled across various parts of the world.

And even with such a body, if a new form of magic was discovered, he readily used it. Without fear of the cost.

However, that journey ultimately came to an end—specifically when he burned himself out during the final ritual of magic…

That is why Park Jinseong wished.

This time, he hoped that his journey would not end so pointless due to the cost.

Differently from before, when he chose his own end by stopping his exploration of magic, he wanted to explore until the end of his life in a healthy body and fully utilize the time given to him.

During that time, he would delve into magic and explore it over and over.

Reaching transcendence to shed limitations and learn countless magics.

“Immortality, immortality.”

That is why this concept of immortality was on his mind so much.

Is it a method to significantly enhance telomeres and the immune system, as he had heard in rumors?

Or is it truly related to some magic that prevents aging? Or is it connected to some kind of biological experiment that guarantees overflowing life force?

He didn’t know.

It could be one of those written above or none of them at all.

“Immortality is something cancer cells can achieve too…”

Perhaps the information Ashtosh provided might lead to a conclusion like that of a human who had grown to seize an entire high-rise building before his regression.

When had it been?

Park Jinseong once saw a building made up of meat chunks while traveling the world. That monster… more than 90% of its body replaced with cancer cells, having lost all control over its body while partially retaining its sanity, felt misery and pain.

What kind of biological experiment led to that? It became a grotesque collection of meat that incessantly multiplied, filling a high-rise building and constantly murmuring for death.

Well, it’s not an extraordinary story.

Humans mutated into monsters due to radiation, biological experiments, drugs, chemicals, and high-energy environments are not uncommon sights. He had even seen someone on a deserted island—twisted beyond recognition due to environmental influences…

Yeah, it was just a bit unusual, not extraordinary by any means.

Yet, why was he recalling that now?

“Ah, I see. Immortality… what a sweet story.”

Perhaps it’s because of countless cases he has witnessed before.

Like moths drawn to a campfire, crashing into the fragrant flower while being devoured by carnivorous plants, he had seen many people rush in without a thought, meeting miserable ends unexpectedly.

That is why Jinseong could not help but be concerned about such a tempting tale.

But at the same time, he couldn’t brush off the doubts racing through his mind.

Could this information truly be real?

Perhaps it was like a cursed treasure, a monster disguised as treasure that devours those unworthy of holding power or connections…

A trap.

Yes.

There certainly exists the possibility of a trap.

How could it not?

With so many deranged scientists and countless people having executed such acts to procure test subjects.

Seeing once, numerous times, how they lured people with offerings of wealth, food, and shelter…

“I’ll need verification. Verification, indeed.”

That is why Jinseong did not head straight to America.

He did not want to approach a place where he, like the ‘foolish ones’ he’d seen numerous times, could not even discern whether it was a trap or not, armed only with such vague clues.

Instead of opting for a method that was certain but posed unimaginable risks, he decided to take a slightly ambiguous yet definitely safer route.

Buzz—

[ Neigh~ Your call has been received~ ]

* * *

What Park Jinseong decided as the ‘safe method’ was to summon someone who could help him.

And the person capable of aiding him was none other than—

“Jin-seong! An-nyeong an-nyeong! It’s Asha!”

A former companion from his life before regression.

Someone associated with Ashtosh, the sage of flame, whom he had met in India.

Anastasia B. Lentz.

Upon receiving Jinseong’s call, she reacted with delight and immediately rode a cryptid capable of flying to his building.

Of course, during the process…

[ Breaking news. A spaghetti monster flying through the streets of Seoul has been filmed. ]

“Shocker! The flying spaghetti monster exists!”

[ “I knew it! He exists, made of a giant meatball and spaghetti!” said an FSM church follower. ]

[ “Mom! I want to be a pirate when I grow up! Mom! I want to be a pirate when I grow up!” ]

[ …This unidentified flying object startled many as it was captured in broad daylight. It concluded that it was summoned by a capable person, and people’s reactions ranged from ‘There are summon creatures like that?’ to ‘It looks edible. I wonder how it tastes?’ treating it as a light-hearted incident… ]

…Though there was a minor uproar.

“Haha. Well, how about that? Nice to meet you.”

But what could he do? The cryptids Anastasia uses are always like this.

Her ability enables her to bring forth objects or beings from dreams rather than handling conventional familiars.

And what is brought from dreams reflects the characteristics of dreams themselves—dreamlike, bizarre, and strange.

Filled with things that are extreme and lacking in realism.

So, well… bringing out and riding a flying spaghetti monster is at least a mild level of absurdity.

“I once rode something that made me nauseous just to look at instead of a car when I was a mercenary.”

Yet still, a flying spaghetti monster is at least amusing.

During his mercenary days, he often encountered things far more disgusting than those made from the monster’s remains… Had he brought one of those instead, it wouldn’t have been a delightful commotion but rather a storm of hate comments.

Dealing with a journalist would have been a given.

“By the way… let’s head inside.”

“Okay.”

Anastasia used the spaghetti monster to create legs, twisting the noodles.

She then tilted those legs slightly, sat on top, brought her legs together, and…

Whoosh—

She slid down into Park Jinseong’s building. Instead of hitting the ground on her rear, she manipulated something akin to slime attached to her back, bouncing her up like a rubber ball, did three somersaults in the air, and landed gracefully.

Just like a gymnast.

Then, beaming with pride, she looked at Park Jinseong.

 

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