Inheriting the Throne of the Underworld

Chapter 1



Chapter 1 – The Hunter-Turned-Chasa

“Reincarnate before it’s too late, Jeyeon.”

On the day Yeomra’s three-day funeral ended, my older brother, Gangrim, who was the chief mourner, said this to me.

Reincarnate?

I took a sip of alcohol and replied.

“Brother, if I reincarnate now, I’ll become a mosquito.”

It had been 49 years since I ended my life and became a low-ranking Chasa. I didn’t have enough seniority to be reborn as a human, let alone a dog or pig.

Hearing this, my brother chuckled and retorted.

“I’ll just make you human.”

His tone was light, but his words carried the divine authority to decide reincarnation— the finality of death.

With Yeomra gone, he, as the Head Chasa, became the supreme god the underworld.

Well, it didn’t really matter anymore since there were only two of us left, but still, even reincarnation was now his prerogative.

He spoke of it as a matter of course.

“You’ll do well even if you become human again.”

Human, huh?

I didn’t answer.

It was because the time 49 years ago, when I was still human, felt as vivid as yesterday.

Lee Jeyeon.

A low-ranking Chasa belonging to the *Speech Hell department.

[TL/N: *A place where sinners who continue to lie go]

21 + 49 years, which would be 70 in human years (rare age).

I’m the only Chasa in the underworld who has experienced the Hunter era.

I’m also the last generation to have lived through both the Hunter and non-Hunter eras.

Born 70 years ago as the son of a small business owner, I had a relatively comfortable childhood.

But unfortunately, in the year I turned twenty, dungeons started appearing all over the world.

Dungeons.

Strange spaces where reality and the bizarre intertwined.

Unheard-of monsters emerged, and soon after, Awakened beings called Hunters rose to power, slaying those monsters.

The Hunter era began without warning.

The year that followed— until a new order based on the System was established, was pure chaos.

Governments were overthrown, and laws and institutions became practically obsolete.

I lost my parents during that time.

My father was killed by a Hunter he had hired as a bodyguard.

Soon after, my mother passed away, poisoned by a monster’s venom.

My four younger siblings and I became orphans.

Our vast fortune vanished into thin air during the chaos.

At the age of twenty, I had to work odd jobs to feed my siblings.

For me, a young master raised in comfort, it was a truly devastating time.

Then, at twenty-one, unexpectedly, I Awakened as a Hunter.

Although I was the lowest rank, I was overjoyed.

A way to provide for my siblings had opened up.

For the first time since my parents’ deaths, I felt hope.

I felt happiness.

My siblings were proud of me too.

But my lack of knowledge about the world proved to be my downfall.

Eager and hopeful, I went on my first mission, only to be tricked by a broker.

The team I had joined, thinking it was an exploration party, turned out to be sacrificial lambs for a ritual.

That’s how I ended up in that dungeon.

Twenty-nine Hunters were eaten alive by monsters.

They said the real dungeon would only open after sacrificing thirty Awakened beings.

So.

Just before I became the final sacrifice, I took my own life.

‘If I die first, they won’t be able to open the dungeon.’

At that time, I thought it was the only way to get revenge.

But I was wrong.

Just within two days, thirty more Hunters were sacrificed.

Whether it was thirty or sixty, lives were cheap during those chaotic times.

But because I had committed suicide, I ended up paying the price in the underworld.

For the crime of endangering others by taking my own life, I became a Chasa.

Looking down at me from the throne, King Yeomra said—

—Tsk Tsk, such a young one. You’ll have to toil for a thousand years as a Chasa before you can be reincarnated as a human again.

I didn’t care.

I had already lost all attachment to human life.

And so, I became a low-ranking Chasa, reluctantly anticipating my next life.

But the first souls I was tasked with guiding were children.

My younger siblings, who had starved to death shortly after my passing.

Those poor things, who had waited for me, starving, until they died.

“…Brother, I hate the living world.”

I muttered after a long silence.

Even after half a century, the Hunter era held no good memories for me.

And now, to become human again? Damn it, I’d rather be a mosquito.

“…”

Gangrim stared down at me with his characteristically cold eyes.

“…It’s not that you dislike it.”

He raised his cup and spoke.

“Or is that you’re afraid of it?”

His low voice pierced me, just like his gaze.

“You chose death because you were afraid of life. That fear hasn’t gone anywhere.”

His words brought back a memory from 49 years ago, when he had come for me with a rope.

—Will you be tied up and dragged away, or will you follow me on your own accord?

He had asked me then.

—Someone who ran from life because it was too heavy, would they meekly accept death?

As if he knew I would try escaping.

But like all sinners bound by the rope, I knew I couldn’t escape him. He was like the stern visage of a god.

“…What will you do, brother?”

I changed the subject.

Because, just as he said, I was still afraid of life.

“…”

His piercing gaze held me captive.

With a gaze that could see through a human, he gave a small smile, as if to say he would let me off the hook for changing the subject.

“I must capture the sinners.”

He replied.

“I will bind those who murdered the King with my rope and drag them back.”

Even after becoming the person with the highest authority in the underworld, he intended to remain a Chasa.

“…”

They had killed Yeomra, the ruler of Hell.

Yet, I clearly understood what it meant for him to go after them.

Are you afraid of life, or are you afraid of death?

His question weighed heavily because he truly feared neither life nor death.

That’s why he chose revenge without hesitation, even at the brink of death.

Unlike humans, he knew that the end of a god truly meant the end.

That was Gangrim, the Chasa.

“Come visit me before the 49th day, brother.”

After a long pause, I finally managed a response that wasn’t really a response.

“You should say goodbye before you go. I won’t reincarnate until then either.”

He finished his drink without a word.

But he must have understood.

Forty-nine days held a special significance in the underworld.

“Whether you come or not,”

I continued.

“…On the 49th day, I’ll offer you a drink.”

A brief silence.

He emptied his cup and set it down with a thud.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

His lips were smiling, but his eyes remained cold.

They continued to pierce through me.

“If you’re still here when I return, I’ll personally bind you with the rope and throw you out the Reincarnation Gate.”

It was the same look he had given me when he asked if I would be dragged away or go willingly.

“Live, Jeyeon.”

He, who had ushered countless souls to their deaths with those eyes, now commanded a single life.

“Death is not the end. That is the myth of this land. So, facing life once more— that is your final task in this underworld.”

Even as he gave this order with unwavering resolve, his outstretched hand gently grazed my hair.

The touch of death on my forehead was as cold as ever.

But I understood why the stoic Gangrim reached out now, and for a moment, I wished that rough, calloused hand would linger longer.

***

Forty-eight days had passed.

I was still tidying up the desolate underworld.

I scrubbed the extinguished cauldrons of the Hwatang Hell, sharpened the moss-covered blades of the Dosan Hell, and buried the snakes of the Doksa Hell who starved to death from the lack of prey.

[TL/N: Hwatang Hell- Cauldron of Boiling Oil Hell, Doksa Hell- Hell of Knife Mountains, Dosan Hell- Hell of Poisonous Snakes]

Forty-eight days of tidying up the vast underworld, all alone.

The once magnificent underworld, with its dazzling array of hells, was now just somewhat presentable.

…As if it exuded the melancholy of an abandoned amusement park.

“…”

It was time for the Reincarnation Gate.

Standing in front of it with a bucket of rags, I was suddenly filled with remorse.

Forty-nine years ago, when I brought my siblings— filled with grief.

Here…

Unexpectedly, *Jijang Bosal greeted us.

[TL/N: *A popular figure associated with helping the deceased, especially children and those in hell]

With a benevolent face, he carried the youngest on his back and gave snacks to the hungry children.

Then, he whispered to me, who was standing at a distance.

—Your parents have already been reincarnated.

—Good relationships are not severed… you will meet again as a happy family, in due time.

I do not condone suicide.

It was only natural, since I became a Chasa for the sin of suicide.

However, for some in this world, life only found solace in death.

Whether it was suicide, illness, starvation, or any other tragic end— there were lives that yearned for the injustice they suffered in the living world to be resolved in the underworld.

They believed in a fair and just afterlife.

That’s probably why faith in the underworld persisted for thousands of years.

But now, even that faith has ended.

Yeomra, the punisher of sinners, was killed by a Hunter, and Jijang Bosal, the caretaker of pitiful souls, had vanished.

Perhaps people no longer believed in punishment or salvation.

As I cleaned the Reincarnation Gate, I thought about these things.

Tomorrow was the day Gangrim was supposed to return.

He had ordered me to reincarnate, but I would wait just one more day for him.

Even if I were to be bound by his rope and cast away, it didn’t matter.

All memories would fade upon reincarnation anyway.

But if he didn’t return, I would just build a tomb for Gangrim here.

Even if… I were to eventually forget about that too.

And then, I would reincarnate.

My brother was right.

The cycle of life and death is inescapable; just as life inevitably ends, death inevitably comes, regardless of our desires.

After death comes another life.

That was the mythology of this land.

So, as a Chasa of the underworld, I had to follow it.

…But I didn’t want to be human. I’d rather just become a mosquito, as the rules dictated.

I’d become a mosquito and suck the blood of Hunters.

I’d only bite them at night, disturbing their precious sleep.

I’d lay lots of eggs too, to annoy them for generations to come.

As I diligently cleaned the Reincarnation Gate, plotting my bloody revenge— something happened.

“…?”

Rumble.

I heard a collapsing sound, and then— with a crack, the air split open.

A siren blared, and a pitch-black sphere of unknown origin appeared.

[ —Bzzzt—Converting to Earth format—Bzzzt— ]

The sphere, emitting strange noises— stretched and expanded in mid-air like rubber clay, eventually transforming into a familiar shape.

It looked like a massive bulldozer, the size of a house.

“What the hell is that?!”

The sudden appearance of the bulldozer jolted me out of my gloom, and I shouted.

This crazy bulldozer was about to demolish King Yeomra’s tomb right in front of me!

“What the hell! what is that thing?!”

I threw down my mop and ran towards the bulldozer.

The burial mound I had meticulously cleaned was about to be crushed.

This was insane! Who demolishes someone’s grave with a bulldozer?!

Infuriated by this unprecedented act, I stood in front of the bulldozer.

But then.

[ Cosmic Official Duty Vehicle ]

The sign on the bulldozer left me speechless.

It was an absurd sign that read, “Cosmic Official Duty Vehicle.”

“Excuse me, sir, you can’t stand there!”

Then, from inside the bulldozer, a giant man wearing a matching outfit labeled [Cosmic Official Duty] popped his head out.

He was wearing dark sunglasses, like a gangster.

“Sir, you saw the official notice, didn’t you?”

Official notice?

“It says the demolition of the Underworld starts today, so you need to vacate the premises!”

Demolition?

Vacate?

What the hell is this?!

I stared at the giant man, wondering what nonsense he was spouting.

He opened the door and let out a heavy sigh.

Wait a minute.

That sigh sounded familiar.

It was like the sigh I made when I encountered a stubborn soul who refused to go to the underworld.

…It was a strange realization that this guy was indeed a real official.

Suddenly, the giant man held out a document.

[ Cosmic Order Preservation Council ]

Recipient: Planet Earth Underworld

Subject: Request for Demolition of Hell and Planet Earth Underworld Facilities

1. In accordance with Article 292 of the Cosmic Order Preservation Act, we request the voluntary demolition of underworld facilities that are no longer functioning.

2. If not demolished within the specified period, the Cosmic Order Preservation Council may directly initiate demolition work.

3. The demolished underworld facilities will be compensated at a fair price in accordance with Article 182 of the Cosmic Order Preservation Act. End.

“…”

My hands trembled as I held the document.

These guys were completely insane.

Who were they to demolish the underworld?

Compensation, my ass! How could they put a price on 20,000 years of mythology?

“What nonsense is this?! This land is not yours!”

I fumed and lunged at the bulldozer.

“Argh, seriously! This is why I quit being a public servant!”

The giant man, not to be outdone, opened the door and stepped out.

It was a spectacle that revealed the frustration of someone burdened with authority, whether it was cosmic order or something else.

And then.

Just as the 49-year veteran underworld official and the cosmic whatever official were about to clash…

BOOM!

This time, there was an explosion, and…

“Underworld! Is it true that you guys are finished?!”

A woman appeared.

Her long hair flowed behind her, she wore a traditional Korean jeogori top, and her red skirt fluttered above her knees.

“…!”

A damp, chilling miasma spread around her, drawing my eyes to her.

Her black sleeves with a greenish tint and her red skirt fluttered wildly.

Her elegantly curved body strangely evoked images of decaying corpses and blood.

The eerie dissonance of such a gruesome image being beautiful made me instantly recognize her.

“…Hogu Byeolseong?”

Hogu Byeolseong.

The goddess of smallpox, who had vanished long ago.

Humans, out of fear, used to call her “Mama” as a term of respect.

The goddess of pestilence, who had driven tens of thousands to their deaths throughout history, arrived in the land of death, cloaked in a sinister miasma.

“…And who might you be?”

Hogu Byeolseong frowned as our eyes met.

“A Chasa? I haven’t seen you before.”

Her dark green eyes, different from Gangrim’s piercing gaze yet clearly divine, glared at me.

I finally came to my senses.

This was a god, after all.

A truly ancient god, unlike a fake one like me.

I had to show some respect.

“I am Lee Jeyeon, the youngest Chasa of the Speech Hell department, Mama. I’ve been in the underworld for 49 years.”

“49 years?”

Hogu Byeolseong’s eyes widened at my words.

“You really were a little sprout! Have you even grown any hair on your grave yet?”

“…”

I swallowed the words, “It’s grass, not hair.”

No need to provoke her further, considering her already menacing aura.

“Forget that, where’s your dad?”

She immediately asked for my father… the deceased King Yeomra. It seemed she had come to the underworld with some knowledge of it.

A moment later, I reassessed the situation.

Hogu Byeolseong didn’t seem to have any ill will towards the underworld.

…So, if she did have a problem, it was likely with this damn official who was trying to demolish the underworld and Yeomra’s tomb.

“…He’s here.”

I quickly pointed to the bulldozer and King Yeomra’s tomb.

“As you can see, I’m desperately trying to protect it.”

It felt like I was tattling, but before I could feel embarrassed, Hogu Byeolseong raised her voice first.

“What the hell is this!”

Grasping the situation, she glared at the official.

“Is that really the old man’s grave?!”

Her long hair whipped around fiercely.

The demonic aura instantly ignited the surroundings like wildfire.

“Damn it, what kind of bastard is this?!”

Her rage, though its cause was unknown, strangely reassured me.

———-

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