The Tales of an Infinite Regressor

Chapter 53 – The Judge III

[Translator – Jjsecus]

[Proofreader – Gun]

Chapter 53 – The Judge III

Before the collapse of civilization, people used to say half-jokingly:

“Ah, what kind of judgment is that?”

“I’d rather just leave it all to AI; it would be better than this!”

Of course, the other half of this statement probably contained the sentiment that artificial intelligence made of steel and code would be more impartial than Homo sapiens, who were often entangled in various interests.

Now that AI judges had made their nationwide debut, one might expect people to rejoice, thinking, “Wow! This is the era of justice where biased judgments will never be made!”

But naturally, things weren’t so straightforward in the world.

“Judgment. The defendant is sentenced to life imprisonment.”

“What?”

“He killed someone, shouldn’t it be a death sentence?”

“Why on earth shouldn’t criminals be put to death?”

People were bewildered.

Since no updates had been made after the collapse of civilization, the judgments of AI judges seemed rather dull to the current human palate, which had adapted to the apocalypse.

“Judgment. The defendant is sentenced to three months in prison.”

“What?”

“They dared to lay hands on someone else’s property, and it’s not a death sentence?”

“Why on earth shouldn’t criminals be put to death?”

From the outset, the concept of a ‘prison sentence’ handed down by AI judges was already an antiquated relic of the past.

Prison? Where was that?

They didn’t just build sturdy walls and install iron bars; they even had to feed, house, and rehabilitate prisoners. Did prison guards get their salaries for free from the sky?

Yes, the AI judge was fair.

But it was a fairness akin to that of a deity. It was meaningless unless it descended into reality.

“Wait. Three months in prison is about the same as losing a finger, isn’t it?”

“Oh…”

Therefore, there was inevitably a need for a specialized profession to ‘interpret’ the ‘word of god’.

In ancient times, it was priestesses, in the Middle Ages, it was priests, and now it was guild leaders, who continued the role of their trusted associates.

A guild leader who had achieved enough feats to occupy a city was rightfully considered the human closest to a deity within that city.

“As expected of the guild leader. How about six months in prison?”

“Hmm, that’s cutting off a finger. Of course, if the victim wants, we could just cut off a toe.”

“What about a year in prison, guild leader?”

“Then maybe we should go as far as cutting off a hand or a foot? Ah! But if we do that, and the labor force declines, it wouldn’t be good. Let’s go with a 50-50… for example, three fingers from the perpetrator, two fingers from the perpetrator’s family, totaling five fingers as punishment.”

“Oh…”

“As expected of the guild leader.”

If prisons were relics, then the system of cutting off fingers and toes was an item that guilds these days were eager to have.

“What if all their fingers and toes are gone?”

“Then we kill them. Damn it. If you’re given 20 life points but can’t play the game, then it just doesn’t match, right?”

“That makes sense.”

“Moreover, if there’s no friend or relative willing to lose a finger on behalf of the criminal, then killing them wouldn’t make anyone sad anyway, right? Just kill them all.”

“Oh…”

Here’s an edited version of the conversation, tailored to be easier to read and follow, spoken by a guild leader from Incheon:

Interpretations by the ‘priestesses’ varied from city to city. In places like Incheon, they neatly reduced all life stats to fingers and toes, while in other cities, they interpreted a six-month sentence as a six-month term of slavery, turning the perpetrator into the victim’s slave.

However, it was precisely because of this that guild leaders readily accepted AI judges.

“This isn’t bad.”

Tang Seorin casually tapped the head of the AI judge.

“From beginning to end, it’s much easier for us to say that someone else, who is already respected, made the judgment, and we just added our interpretation— from the perspective of a guild leader.”

“Hmm.”

“The judgment wasn’t wrong. It’s just the application to reality. In other words, there are some nuances in interpretation. So, even if there are slight mistakes, it’s relatively less damaging to the guild leader’s reputation. Ah. Perhaps this principle is why the ancient rulers were also priests.”

As a guild leader who ruled the most prosperous city in the peninsula, her words carried weight.

Ironically, Tang Seorin herself had merely handed over the AI judge to the common citizens; she didn’t actually use it to make judgments.

However, it was not just about Tang Seorin seeing the ‘responsibility that need not be taken’ as a leader’s badge of honor.

Tang Seorin was a self-proclaimed sorceress, and her method of ruling Busan was unique… well, if you had to put it, it was quite ‘witch-like.’ In Busan under her rule, a system known as the ‘Witch’s Trial’ operated separately.

But for now, the protagonist of today’s chapter was not Tang Seorin, so we’ll mention her later.

[PR/N: Talked to the TL, and the author has used episode here. I’m wondering if I should use chapter or episode?]

Actually, I wasn’t particularly enthusiastic or serious about the introduction of AI judges. I was just surprised by Noh Doha’s ingenious idea.

As I mentioned earlier, the judgments of AI judges were nothing more than the words of Confucius and Mencius, far removed from reality.

As a doctor, I had ambitions. Someday, I would create a legal system that truly matched the apocalypse. From my perspective, the AI judge was just a clever invention, a defective product that fell far short of the regressors’ standards.

However, this very aspect— the ‘disconnection from reality’ or ‘lack of perfectness’— was surprisingly accepted not only by guild leaders but also by ordinary people.

“Why aren’t they sentencing to death?”

[Response initiated. In modern jurisprudence and legal philosophy, discussions about the death penalty can be approached from various perspectives. One of the most effective arguments is that governments cannot decide on the citizens’ right to life. While citizens partially transfer their rights to the government through social contracts, they still retain exclusive rights over the dignity of life. The government is not a natural person but an artificial agreement, akin to a program, and therefore cannot make judgments on matters not inputted to itself.]

“Hmm… so?”

[Response level decreased by 2 steps. Response changed. Governments are imperfect. Due to incompetent judges, malicious evidence tampering, or political forces attempting judicial murder, governments can make mistakes at any time. Therefore, it is wise to prevent ‘irreversible mistakes’ in life itself.]

“Oh… so?”

[Response level decreased by 6 steps. Response changed. Let’s just cherish life.]

Indeed, the AI judge did not try to execute a death sentence, as it proclaimed.

[Translator – Jjsecus]

[Proofreader – Gun]

“A serial killer who brutally murdered two-year-old children for no reason.”

[We can impose the death penalty, but we won’t execute it.]

“A spy turned terrorist who detonated a bomb in a public facility, resulting in three thousand deaths!”

[We can impose the death penalty, but we won’t execute it.]

“Hitler!”

[We can impose the death penalty, but we won’t execute it.]

“Damn, you’re still not killing them? Even now?”

As the situation unfolded, the citizens of Busan (Tang Seorin had placed judge NPCs in the square for the common people to play with) lost their minds. I mean, seriously, how far do we have to go to impose a death sentence?

“…This is ridiculous. Why not just put a knife to their neck and be done with it? Why go through all this trouble just to not execute them?”

“Well, but come to think of it, it used to feel like this before the world ended. Even the ones deserving death were just having rice and beans in jail.”

“Yeah, it was like that. In the old days.”

“How did things end up like this?”

“…”

“…”

Everyone in the post-apocalyptic world longed for the past.

They had rushed forward without looking back, and as a result, the few survivors who had barely made it through realized how far they had come when they heard the judgments of the AI judges.

Yes. The world had changed. They had changed too.

Taking a brief pause now, the possibility of humanity completely overcoming emptiness and rebuilding civilization seemed remote. Everyone in this era knew that they were in the twilight years of humanity, with death looming over them.

Nostalgia for a homeland that could never be revisited.

So, how people in this era spent their leisure time (whenever such luxury miraculously arose) was by gathering in guild buildings and watching ‘movies from the previous era’ on large TVs.

Even if the movies were boring, it didn’t matter.

“Wow, the asphalt roads are so clean!”

“Cars were driving around!”

“Damn, drinking coffee like it’s just water.”

“Why didn’t they kill someone even after being shoulder-butted?”

Watching footage from the past reminded people of the glorious days of human civilization.

Even their posture while watching TV gave it away. They didn’t sit neatly side by side watching the screen. Instead, they gathered together, casually leaning on each other, munching on peanut shells, and chatting loudly about the ‘rare items in the footage’.

“Hot water coming out directly from home? Just press a button for bottled water? Wow…”

“But why do they have so many complaints on their faces? There’s no paradise after all.”

“Anyway, they all look bloated. They need to be beaten by monsters until their brains cook a bit. Hey, this is hard to open. Pass me a hammer.”

This was roughly a reflection of modern times.

Thus, the ‘unrealistic judgments’ of AI judges were initially treated as toys, but as time passed, they took on a different hue.

[Judgment. Defendant B is ordered to compensate plaintiff A with 1 million won.]

“Really? Wait a moment. I’ll have it arranged within a week.”

“Huh?”

Some people accepted AI’s judgments as they were.

In this world, money was more like a talisman than currency. It reminded them of the days when they were still part of civilized society.

Collecting ‘100 million won’ worth of such talismans was extremely difficult.

But some citizens stubbornly collected 50,000 won, 10,000 won, 5,000 won, and 1,000 won bills as much as they could, and actually handed over 1 million won to the defendant.

“Is it done now?”

“Uh, yeah…”

“All right. Sorry for disturbing your business. Our relationship is settled now.”

Surprisingly, one citizen’s apology was accepted.

Money had lost all meaning beyond being a talisman and could not be exchanged for anything else. In other words, money that had completely lost its value as currency was acknowledged as compensation for wrongdoing.

This accidental incident prompted more and more citizens to voluntarily follow the judgments of AI.

Of course, citizens did not rely on AI judges for incidents that caused real harm or endangered lives.

But for minor incidents, things that didn’t involve killing each other, people willingly obeyed the ‘judgments of the old era’—obeying the justice of the time when the world was still intact.

“Here’s 3 million won.”

“Let’s live well from now on. A bit.”

Even if it was the latest currency, people cherished and exchanged worn-out, dusty pieces of paper that had been printed over ten years ago with great care.

From a distance, it looked more like a religious ritual than the execution of the law.

A ritual of proving and certifying each other’s belongingness to a world that they had once been part of, a community’s procedure for proving membership in the same society.

What should I say? Usually, when an apocalypse comes, currencies are quickly treated as trash, but the reality was quite different from the contents of such works.

“…I really didn’t expect this.”

I felt a bit psychologically punched.

But it wasn’t a bad feeling. No matter how much the world had fallen apart, most people still lived with nostalgia, and I could confirm that.

Even after the 109th run, I continued to maintain the ‘AI judges’.

Even though they weren’t much help judicially, if they could remind the people living in this era of a little ‘humanity’, wouldn’t that have its own meaning?

“Judge.”

[Yes.]

“There’s a certain infinite regressor who, instead of cooperating with his partner, decides to keep flirting with his wife alone, abandoning his colleague and neglecting his duties. Thanks to him, his abandoned colleague is left all alone trying to save the world with all his might. What kind of judgment would be suitable for such a despicable regressor?”

[Judgment. Not guilty.]

“…”

Humanity is nonsense.

Indeed, AI didn’t understand human hearts.

– The Judge. The End.

[Translator – Jjsecus]

[Proofreader – Gun]