Chapter 102
Second Hand
Before launching a full-scale reconnaissance mission into Seoul, the military succeeded in establishing contact with five survivors.
Their profiles were as follows.
Pingshin of Dobong District.
A survivor believed to be stranded near Bukhansan in Dobong District, sobbing over the radio and repeatedly screaming, "You fucking idiots, get me out of here!"
However, due to the high likelihood of mental collapse and his proximity to Bukhansan—the origin point of the disaster—his influence was judged to be negligible. Everyone effectively ignored him.
Goryeoha of Konkuk University.
A survivor who had initially shown the greatest goodwill and cooperation toward the military, prompting attempts at contact.
However, the survivor group she belonged to collapsed due to poor conditions and internal divisions, leaving her mentally unstable.
Still useful, though not beyond use.
The Professor of Nowon District.
A survivor who had revealed the truth about Goryeoha and proposed trading supplies the next time the military entered Seoul.
He appeared to lead an organized group and was cooperating with isolated military units in northern Gyeonggi Province.
Despite harboring resentment toward those outside the containment line, he seemed willing to compromise.
Gangnam Clairvoyant.
A Seoul Mage and survivor believed to belong to the Sixty-Six Martyrs, currently leading the offensive against northern Seongnam.
At the same time, after opposing the increasingly coercive measures taken by the military before the initial containment order, he had attempted to break through the containment line following its collapse by murdering generals and field commanders.
And finally—
The Madam of Yongsan Station.
A survivor who had approached the military with a sly demeanor and sought to lead negotiations.
The problem was that Yongsan Station had been one of the final locations where military forces held out.
Pastor Park Yohan suspected this woman might have been responsible for sending a delayed train packed with amalgams toward Suwon Station in an attempt to trigger a mass infection event.
The people gathered inside the Reality Survival Command's command center seemed to share similar thoughts.
Every face was filled with suspicion and caution.
Some sat at their assigned positions in operational readiness.
Others stood in orderly rows, waiting for the generals' judgment.
Even the American generals who had not shown themselves for some time finally appeared.
The moment they heard Major General Jeon's report, they frowned and immediately began speaking among themselves in English.
Fortunately, I possessed a secret weapon.
Standing among the Supreme Mages, I signaled Shin Nain.
Today more than ever, the ability of Ear Mages at the same stage to communicate via telepathy felt incredibly useful.
Noticing my signal, Shin Nain narrowed her eyes.
'Mr. Jemin. What is it?'
Translator Mage.
Tell me what those Yankee bastards are saying.
'Mr. Jemin. It's the global age. You should at least know some English.'
Learning even one spell was already pushing the limits of my tiny brain.
Besides, someone who scored four hundred on the TOEIC already had a hard ceiling.
Since Shin Nain already spoke English well, it made far more sense for her to handle that while I invested everything into the magic that had recognized my talent as a Great Mage.
Eventually Shin Nain sighed and translated the Americans' conversation through telepathy.
It went like this:
Marshal McKenzie: Yongsan Station. Isn't this woman one of the hostile figures who tried to break through the containment line?
Brigadier General Thatcher: Yongsan Station was one of the last military strongholds. If she's a local survivor who took control of it... yes, that seems likely.
Lieutenant General Royce: The containment operation appears to be working. Could this indicate rising tensions between factions competing over Seoul's limited resources?
Marshal McKenzie: Or it could be an operation intended to make us think exactly that.
As expected of generals prepared by a nation that had declared wartime conditions.
Marshal McKenzie flipped through reports and openly pointed out suspicions regarding the Madam of Yongsan Station.
The testimony provided by us Supreme Mages had likely played a role as well.
Silence lingered briefly.
Then Marshal McKenzie made a decision.
"Get her on the line. Profilers, analysts—stand by. Negotiation goes to Major General Jeon. Spiritual warding... ha. Ridiculous just saying it. Full LISA gear, engaged."
Hey, Translator Mage.
You're being slow.
"It's nothing important. They're just saying Major General Jeon will handle the negotiations."
***
The problem was what Major General Jeon did next.
It was ridiculous.
He firmly fastened a pentagram necklace around his neck.
Then he sprinkled salt over his head from a salt shaker.
As if that weren't enough, a series of unusual individuals entered the command center.
The first was a greasy-haired Catholic priest wearing a gas-mask pouch and military belt over his cassock.
Standing before the kneeling Major General Jeon, he made the sign of the cross, poured holy oil, and began praying.
"In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in proelio. Contra nequitiam..."
Even those without strong religious faith instinctively fell silent.
The atmosphere was solemn and sacred.
When the prayer ended with an Amen, the priest traced a cross of holy oil on Jeon's forehead.
"May the protection of Jesus Christ be with you. Amen."
After the priest withdrew, a Buddhist monk approached and quietly pressed his palms together.
He was elderly.
His face looked strangely familiar.
When I stared at him, our eyes met.
The monk winked at me and chuckled.
Only then did I remember.
Venerable Wonhaeng.
One of the civilian operators who had awakened doctrinal magic, and someone acquainted with Venerable Cheonghwi.
I'd only met him once.
Had he really come all the way to the American camp?
However, his attention quickly moved away from me.
With palms pressed together, he began rapidly reciting mysterious verses.
"Namo Saldalta Sogadaya Arahaje Sammaksambodasa. Namo Saldalta Buldaguzi Seulnisam..."
The pronunciation was unfamiliar and impossibly fast.
No matter how hard I tried to focus, the words slipped through my mind.
My reason insisted this was something extraordinary.
But my lack of knowledge made the information leak away like water through a cracked jar.
Then one phrase produced a strange sensation.
A faint but refreshing breeze seemed to pass through me.
"Om Anare Bisheshe Bera Vajra Dari Banda Bandani Vajrapani Phat Chum Trum Phat Svaha..."
Only after completing every strange verse did Wonhaeng quietly bow and withdraw.
Next came the shaman woman who had inspected us when we first entered the American camp.
Since there were multiple shamans around, I had privately nicknamed her the Pyeongtaek Shaman.
Looking around, she clicked her tongue sympathetically upon seeing Goryeoha.
But when she spotted me, her expression completely changed.
Her eyes widened and a smile spread across her face.
"Oh, our Sunyang's here too. Then again, your fate always looked like that."
"Who? Me?"
"Of course. What other student looks so absent-minded and innocent? Definitely Sunyang."
Though brief, the exchange immediately drew everyone's attention.
The Pyeongtaek Shaman laughed awkwardly and returned to business.
"Ah, things are too urgent for chatting. Call me later if you're curious about anything."
She had brought a basket of salt and a fan.
The salt came first.
Circling the kneeling Major General Jeon, she scattered salt everywhere.
My grandmother hadn't sprinkled salt this carefully even when making kimchi.
By the time I started wondering whether Jeon was about to become fermented seafood, she finally put down the basket and raised her fan.
"May the Azure General of the East, the Red General of the South, the White General of the West, the Black General of the North, and the Yellow General of the Center protect this man. Drive away all wandering spirits, evil ghosts, and malevolent entities from every direction."
After her noisy ritual ended, Pastor Park Yohan stepped forward.
Holding a Bible in one hand, he placed the other atop Jeon's head and prayed.
"He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord: He is my refuge and my fortress, my God in whom I trust. In the name of Jesus Christ, I command all evil spirits to depart from this man."
Ordinarily Pastor Park would have denounced all this as heresy.
Today, however, he remained relatively restrained.
Granted, he still looked about as sulky as Lee Sejun whenever he was jealous of Goryeoha.
But at least he wasn't saying it out loud.
"In the name of Jesus Christ, we pray. Amen."
Having finished, the pastor returned to stand beside us.
The entire scene was absurd.
Before opening communications with the other side, Catholicism, Buddhism, shamanism, and Protestant Christianity had joined forces to pray over a man and pickle him in salt.
A year ago, such a sight would have been unimaginable.
Yet nobody laughed.
Nobody mocked it.
Major General Jeon, marinated in salt and prayer, stood silently for a long time with both hands on his chest.
Inhale.
Exhale.
The liquid running down his forehead wasn't just saltwater, holy water, or sacred oil.
Beneath his dried, salt-stiffened hair, beads of sweat rolled down his brow and cheeks.
When one finally reached the tip of his chin, he suddenly opened his eyes.
"May 12th. 06:11 AM."
Everyone swallowed reflexively.
The sensation of saliva passing through a dry throat felt strangely painful.
"Begin communications."
The analysts and profilers were not physically present in the command center.
To avoid exposing their identities and being remotely executed like Gangnam Clairvoyant's victims, they listened from elsewhere through delayed transmissions.
Naturally, that meant Major General Jeon Minho—the Korean general holding one of the few key positions in the Combined U.S.–ROK Command—was bearing tremendous risk.
Yet the Madam of Yongsan Station required a minimum level of credibility.
During the previous Seongnam communication, she had questioned the authority and legitimacy of the commander she spoke with and had refused to cooperate fully.
And Gangnam Clairvoyant was still active.
That was why Major General Jeon had chosen to communicate despite risking localized infiltrative alteration phenomena—LISA.
The signal did not come immediately.
Whether she was cautious, trying to seize negotiating leverage, or simply experiencing communication difficulties, nobody knew.
As time passed, the ordinary officers grew increasingly anxious.
The Korean officers especially kept glancing at their watches and nervously licking their lips.
Just as Brigadier General Thatcher—the sleepy-looking white officer with sideburns—began looking unusually sharp—
[...Hello? This is Pyeongtaek again, right? You didn't connect me to some other containment line this time, did you?]
Click.
Major General Jeon lifted the receiver and signaled those around him.
Though I didn't know the exact meaning, the fact that the Madam's voice suddenly became louder suggested he had ordered someone to adjust the speakers.
Then the conversation began.
"This is Pyeongtaek. I am Major General Jeon Minho, commander of the Joint Operational Alteration Unit under the Reality Survival Command of the Combined U.S.–ROK Headquarters."
[Oh my? It really is Pyeongtaek? Well, that's unexpected.]
Her energy level was absurdly high.
I could practically imagine her covering her mouth in exaggerated surprise.
Ignoring the theatrics, Jeon calmly proceeded.
"I would like to know the name of the person speaking with us."
[Oh, no, that won't do. You know why. With Gangnam Group causing you enough trouble already, asking for my name is a bit much, don't you think?]
"Do you know Gangnam Clairvoyant?"
[Gangnam Clairvoyant...? Ah, the Gangnam Group boss? Who came up with that? That's actually a pretty good name.]
Cough.
I shifted slightly.
For some reason my shoulder was stiff.
Immediately Shin Nain's icy voice echoed in my head.
"Mr. Jemin. What are you doing?"
"Nothing. People can get uncomfortable."
"You're pathetic, Mr. Jemin."
Hamza added his own comment, but I ignored him.
After all, being envied by ordinary people for possessing superior instincts had been a universal truth since prehistoric times.
Meanwhile, the probing conversation between Major General Jeon and the Madam continued.
Both sides circled around their intentions, trying to provoke reactions.
"If there is someone you wish to contact, we can guarantee their safety, economic freedom, overseas evacuation, and communications support."
[Oh dear, our soldiers really are kind-hearted. It's always the politicians who are the problem. If only you'd found the courage to disobey orders a little sooner, right? Still, don't worry too much. They're all still here in Seoul.]
"Isn't that why you proposed negotiations?"
[That's exactly why it's a negotiation. Who hands their neck to a tiger just because it asks nicely? Soldiers, raw fish isn't bad, but too much of it will upset your stomach, you know?]
"It seems you've already decided what you wish to say."
[The military told Seoul residents they were safe. That it was just a disturbance, maybe a riot. That they didn't need to flee. Then you said you'd shoot anyone who tried. Now it's your turn to listen. Give and take. That's what conversation is, isn't it?]
It was then that Pastor Park folded his arms and frowned.
"She's relaxed. Whether it's confidence or an act, she's hiding something significant."
Lee Sejun raised an eyebrow.
"If it's not about family members outside the city, what else could she possibly want through negotiation?"
Naturally, the pastor didn't answer.
"Lee Sejun, if I knew that, do you think I'd be standing here? Use your head."
Most people's reactions amounted to:
Is she insane?
Does that even make sense?
Even Major General Jeon frowned.
"Ma'am. That's not something this command can decide unilaterally. More importantly, what compensation could possibly justify such conditions for you and your group—"
I noticed Lee Sejun's face twisting into something resembling a wrathful demon and immediately lost interest.
At that exact moment, the real proposal arrived.
And it was far more shocking than any of us had expected.
Enough to unsettle everyone in the Combined U.S.–ROK Headquarters.
[We demand amnesty, immunity, and material support from Pyeongtaek Command.]
"Amnesty and immunity...?"
[Pardon every major and minor crime that my people and I have been forced to commit in order to survive. Grant us immunity for all actions we will inevitably be forced to take before escaping Seoul. And provide supplies too. Guns, ammunition, food, medicine... whatever you can spare.]
Murmur... murmur... murmur...
The command center, which should have remained quiet, stirred ever so slightly.
Even the officers who had been listening in silence revealed their agitation. Some scoffed. Others widened their eyes. Now and then, harsh muttering slipped out.
[Then let's make this simple. Information on the Gangnam Group leader you call Gangnam Clairvoyant, and on the Gangnam Group's real combat forces. I hear the Seongnam containment line is on the verge of collapse? We'll give you everything we know about Gangnam Clairvoyant and the Gangnam Group's main mages.]
"We have no way to verify the authenticity of that information. Nor can we be certain that you actually possess it."
[Oh my, aren't you clever. Fine. I'll pay in advance.]
And then information about Gangnam Clairvoyant began spilling from the Madam of Yongsan Station.
***
Gangnam Clairvoyant
Believed to be a former Grade-5 civil servant.
Before the lockdown, he apparently discovered through administrative documents that VIPs were being evacuated and attempted to reveal this fact, but failed.
When he was desperately trying to escape during the early days of the disaster, no wounds or traces typically associated with violence or looting were found on him, suggesting he had been detained.
He possessed more knowledge than ordinary civilians regarding government intranets and military deployment plans.
Immediately before the lockdown, while the military was conducting indiscriminate gunfire and flamethrower-based corpse disposal along major roads, he attempted to escape and failed.
His entire family is believed to have been killed.
He joined the Sixty-Six Martyrs in order to survive.
Special Notes:
Deep and shallow burn scars cover his entire face and neck.
He inflicted them on himself to erase his own face.
After reaching that point, the Madam of Yongsan Station added casually:
[Of course~. Depending on how these negotiations go, my guesses might become a lot more certain. Don't you think? Living in a place like this makes your memory a little patchy.]
***
A choice had to be made.
Major General Jeon briefly lowered the receiver and joined the American generals.
A discussion followed.
Marshal McKenzie let out a dry laugh.
"This drone—that was the Chinese, right? They're trying to contain this thing too, last I checked."
Still thoroughly salted, Major General Jeon replied respectfully.
"Beyond a pretext for nuclear strike, they may be after intelligence on the practitioners, sir. Minimizing intelligence sharing on our end was your directive, was it not?"
"Heh. Looking at who's pushing to fast-track the volunteer corps and PMCs through entry, I think we can guess who's behind this."
Lieutenant General Royce then spoke cautiously.
"But sir—back home, public opposition to cooperating with the Chinese is growing fast. We've pushed Congress on intelligence sharing, but it's late in the game, and the senators can't ignore where the public stands."
"Used to think soldiers just fought wars."
Watching Marshal McKenzie laugh bitterly, I snapped my fingers.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Shin Nain, what the hell are you doing?
Translator Mage, get to work!
'They're suspecting the drone attack might not have been China's doing.'
The moment she translated it, I wondered if I'd heard wrong.
What?
Why?
Who else could it be?
Yet the American generals' thinking apparently ran deeper than mine.
Shin Nain's telepathic voice arrived, calm and serious.
'If regular armies aren't enough, they'll need mercenaries. People who follow money and contracts rather than duty or faith. They seem to suspect that whoever wants unrestricted mercenary deployment may be behind this. People seeking only the sweet fruits of alteration-based holy wars.'
And finally, Marshal McKenzie smiled wryly.
Thanks to my Translator Mage actually doing her job this time, I didn't miss it.
Marshal McKenzie: Grant them amnesty. On the condition that they cease hostile actions and cooperate with headquarters. Refuse material support due to Seoul's hostile environment.
Marshal McKenzie: That's generous enough for someone who may still be our enemy.
The decision was made.
***
Major General Jeon took a deep breath and returned to the receiver.
He conveyed the headquarters' decision.
Upon hearing it, the Madam of Yongsan Station began clapping softly.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
[The military has become surprisingly reasonable. See? Change the people at the top and everything changes.]
"How will you transmit the information?"
[Just keep the line open. It's not like we have working internet or a fax machine. Of course there's a risk of eavesdropping, but that can't be helped. By doing this, I'm basically announcing that I'm on the same side as you now. Isn't cooperation supposed to benefit everyone?]
At that moment, Goryeoha quietly raised a hand.
Everyone looked at her.
She hesitated.
Shin Nain frowned.
Lee Sejun crossed his arms.
Hamza looked around awkwardly.
The pastor nodded calmly.
Then Goryeoha rolled her eyes toward me.
She wanted me to say something.
So for Goryeoha, who was slowly taking the red pill, I decided to teach her the philosophy of a Supreme Mage.
"Ms. Ryeoha. Do you know why you went crazy?"
"Sunbae..."
"You thought the world was softer than it really is. Everything in this world runs on necessity, but your need to save even people who weren't necessary—that savior complex ruined you."
The command center couldn't hear us.
I continued.
"If it were me, the moment I learned monsters were experience points for advancing magical realms, I'd have fed every non-mage freeloader who couldn't even clap properly to the amalgams before shooting them. If they're going to die anyway, at least they'd become part of my experience."
Shin Nain and the pastor looked horrified at the Great Mage Baek Jemin philosophy of maximizing the utility of non-mages.
Their horrified expressions only made me grin wider.
"So if someone gives Ms. Go shit, tell them she's still better than me. They should be grateful she gave those useless non-mages a peaceful death. A country that called people parasites for taking welfare without paying taxes suddenly complains because someone couldn't save people who couldn't even bring back food after the world ended? They're only attacking her because she's an easy target."
"Hoarding non-mages was still a crime, though. Trying to save people without having the ability to do so—that was the crime."
Even after the Supreme Mages arrived, I'd shoot anyone trying that non-mage-hoarding nonsense.
That was my conviction.
Goryeoha looked at me with an indescribably complicated expression.
But apparently it helped.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Tears poured down.
Then she stumbled forward.
The generals had no idea why she was approaching or what I had said.
Only Major General Jeon, a fellow Korean, awkwardly stepped forward.
"Ms. Goryeoha, did you want to say something?"
"Gangnam Clairvoyant's magical realm."
"...Pardon?"
"He's an Ear Mage. Mr. Gangnam. Directional Alteration Ear, Stage Four..."
With her fragile mind, Goryeoha finally chose to face the truth.
Tears streamed continuously down her face as she confessed everything she knew.
The entire command center fell silent.
Well—
Almost everyone.
The pastor immediately hurried over.
At the same time, Hamza quietly approached me with a frightened expression.
"Mr. Jemin."
"What."
"Baek Jemin, you butcher bastard. Do you only care about your parents because you need them?"
"That's correct."
Who else would put up with my nonsense?
Even my parents hated it sometimes.
My parents were people I desperately needed.
Then Shin Nain walked over.
"Mr. Jemin. That's a truly terrible way of thinking. There are no unnecessary people. Under God, every sheep is equal."
"You told me before I wasn't a good person. Heaven only takes the sheep it wants and throws the dirty ones into Hell to roast slowly, but somehow I'm the bad guy?"
"Which is why people should live righteously. Heaven's gate is open to everyone."
"The world would still prefer a Great Mage Baek Jemin who's an asshole but undeniably competent over a saintly Baek Jemin headed for heaven."
"At least you're self-aware. Repent, Mr. Jemin."
I lost.
"Damn it."
Then Hamza asked quietly:
"Do you really think you'd have done it? Used them as experience points?"
The question stopped me cold.
Not because of social judgment.
After thinking for a moment, I gave an honest answer.
"No."
If I had been in Goryeoha's situation...
If I had known I could no longer save the people who had cheered for me...
If I possessed knowledge of monsters and the eternal truth...
"...I think I would've shot them."
At least I wouldn't have let someone else do it.
May 12, 2028 — 6:46 AM
The Supreme Mages loaded equipment into helicopters while watching the chaotic Pyeongtaek American base.
Armored vehicles and tanks that had been sitting in parking areas and hangars were now roaring onto the roads.
The magnificent armored column was mesmerizing.
Clunk!
Someone slammed a heavy ammunition can into the helicopter.
Lee Sejun pulled out a smartphone and earbuds and handed them to me.
"Mr. Jemin. If you're going to slack off, at least listen to the recording files they distributed."
"Oh. Sure."
Anyone who worked instead of playing when given the choice was an idiot.
I immediately accepted the phone.
Ignoring the pastor's comments, I tapped the screen.
The Madam of Yongsan Station had kept her promise.
I inserted the earbuds and started the recording.
[I didn't expect that Konkuk University's little factory girl would spill information about Gangnam Clairvoyant. She's practically an outsider now. Seriously, she told you magical realms? A Seoul Mage would never do that. And do you even know what kind of person Gangnam Clairvoyant is?]
The noise of engines and shouting soldiers faded.
Only the woman's smooth voice remained.
Meanwhile, my eyes followed exhausted soldiers running through the dusty winds with rifles in hand.
[Yes, Gangnam Clairvoyant really was a Grade-5 civil servant. Young too. How do I know? My, you're determined to strip me bare. But since we're all in the same boat now, I should tell you. That's what teamwork is, right?]
The recording continued.
Gangnam Clairvoyant.
A social elite.
A former Grade-5 civil servant.
He discovered that VIPs were escaping.
Tried to warn Seoul citizens.
Was arrested for leaking classified information.
Then escaped when his convoy was attacked during a flood of monsters.
Later, he tried to escape with his family.
The military executed them because they had emerged from a restricted zone.
His family died.
He begged three times to be allowed back into the fog.
They shot them anyway.
Then burned the bodies.
Only he survived.
Afterward, he burned his own face and neck to prevent identification.
[Source of the information? The Sixty-Six Martyrs. Looks like they've got factional disputes of their own.]
Young American soldiers climbed into trucks.
Some looked younger than me.
Fresh out of high school.
They appeared nervous.
Yet excited.
[After that, Gangnam Clairvoyant used his long-range execution ability to worsen the chaos among the military forces slaughtering Seoul civilians. At the same time, he gathered confirmed survivors and attacked military installations. He hated soldiers more than anyone. But he also knew how to use them better than anyone.]
Gangnam Clairvoyant's organization grew through that ability.
The condition was knowledge.
The more information you knew about someone, the more dangerous he became.
Once a certain threshold was crossed, remote execution became possible.
That was why names and faces were deadly.
For the same reason, he erased his own.
Burning away both face and voice.
He armed survivors.
Forced soldiers into joining him.
Hunted other mages.
Join the Gangnam Group.
Or die and contribute your remains.
Those were the choices.
Loyalty oaths required revealing one's face and name.
At the same time, all Gangnam Group mages concealed their identities in combat to prevent anyone from identifying Gangnam Clairvoyant.
[In a way, they unintentionally became the first group to imitate the 55th Unit that the Sixty-Six Martyrs planned to build. That's one reason he climbed so high within the organization despite being a local Seoul survivor.]
The Madam then described five key figures.
The true elites.
The strongest officers within the Gangnam Group.
After listing them, she laughed softly.
[But I've heard you've got some strong mages over there too. Even the Sixty-Six Martyrs seem impressed.]
Someone tapped my shoulder.
Turning around, I saw the Supreme Mages boarding the helicopter.
It was Goryeoha.
Despite her swollen eyes, she patted my shoulder and gave me a thumbs-up.
The helicopter rotors were already spinning.
I nodded and climbed aboard.
The helicopter door closed.
Below us, tanks and armored vehicles crawled across the earth.
Inside my earbuds, the recording clicked.
Then Major General Jeon's voice emerged.
[First, there's something I need to say to everyone listening to this file. I'm sorry.]
Shin Nain had already closed her eyes, probably singing hymns.
Hamza was practicing putting on his gas mask.
Pastor Park stroked the cover of his Bible.
Goryeoha sat hunched beneath her poncho.
[Many of you probably hate us. Many believe the military committed an unforgivable crime. I won't make excuses.]
Lee Sejun sat with his arms crossed, staring at me.
I tapped the phone screen absentmindedly.
[But I believe it was what the military had to do. I am not proud of abandoning ten million citizens. Yet by making the cruelest decision at the cruelest moment, we saved the remaining forty million. It is not something we can boast about. But it remains our last consolation.]
Outside the window stretched endless military columns.
Fighter jets streaked overhead.
So close that I imagined I could see the pilots through their canopies.
[At 2:44 AM on May 12th, the containment line finally began collapsing. What the military did to the hostile survivor group led by Gangnam Clairvoyant was terrible. But we cannot lose our final comfort—the knowledge that people are still alive.]
The recording neared its end.
I removed one earbud.
Immediately I heard breathing.
Sniffling.
Heavy silence.
[To everyone who found themselves here by circumstance. To everyone fighting despite never wanting this. To those wondering why it had to be our country, why it had to be them... I hope the world can somehow continue instead of ending. This is Major General Jeon Minho, commander of the Joint Operational Alteration Unit under the Reality Survival Command. End of message.]
Click.
The recording ended.
I handed the phone back to Lee Sejun and leaned against the seat.
Hamza looked confused.
"You didn't get airsick today?"
"Yeah."
"The whole world's shaking, so a little helicopter turbulence doesn't make me dizzy anymore."
Before Hell seeps in, we march toward Hell.
I silently repeated the Supreme Mage motto.
We are madness opposing madness.
Absurdity opposing absurdity.