Chapter 103

Listen Carefully

People believe that everyone is equal.

The belief that every life carries the same weight regardless of birth or ability is perhaps the most beautiful fairy tale ever created.

Maybe people cling to that fantasy precisely because they know reality isn't like that.

One thing was certain.

When war arrives, the soft skin covering our harsh reality gets ripped away.

Lives have different values.

More important people are used for more important purposes.

Those considered less useful become expendable.

That was why we Supreme Mages had been assigned to the Suwon City Hall Command Post instead of being thrown directly into the front lines.

Ordinary soldiers—replaceable soldiers—would fight, gather information, and probe the enemy.

Meanwhile, we Supreme Mages would remain in safety, waiting to be deployed at the decisive moment while analyzing intelligence and identifying our targets.

How unfair human life was.

I was truly glad I had learned magic.

The moment I returned to the place where the historic beginning of the Supreme Mages had started, I finally understood what it meant to return in glory.

As the helicopter rotors slowly wound down, the sight of Suwon beyond the window was almost intoxicating.

Non-mages with hollow, frightened eyes carrying boxes, hauling sandbags, and digging trenches.

Soldiers in chemical-protection suits and gas masks swaggering around in neat formations while handling weapons with grim familiarity.

The gap between those who had learned magic and those who hadn't was already becoming obvious.

Naturally.

How could those who rejected the miracle of magic—which repaid suffering one hundredfold—ever enjoy its benefits?

If they couldn't accept that pain had become hope, survival, and salvation through power, what could be done?

Before long, their duty would become standing below Great Mages and applauding endlessly.

Of course, not everyone fit that description.

Occasionally I spotted civilians wearing padded jackets or thick vests with blue fluorescent identification bands.

They carried rifles over their shoulders and walked confidently through the streets.

"Baek Jemin, see anything interesting?"

"I see people carrying guns."

Pastor Park Yohan leaned out beside me and clicked his tongue.

"Who are those guys? They aren't even wearing uniforms."

"Civilian Operators."

Shin Nain removed his headset and looked calmly through the window.

This bastard ignored everyone else while pretending to listen through that headset, but somehow never ignored the pastor.

After checking the safety selector on his K2 rifle, Shin Nain spoke.

"They were conscripted at first, but after receiving military vouchers and using crusader rites, they've effectively become mercenaries. The military built the economic structure very carefully."

According to Shin Nain, the military-voucher economy had become even more sophisticated under the Combined U.S.–ROK Command and Marshal McKenzie.

As an Ear Mage, Shin Nain had overheard something surprising.

Quite a few civilians envied the Civilian Operators.

In safer rear cities things might be different, but in Gyeonggi Province—the second containment zone—people couldn't help admiring operators who earned twenty military vouchers or more per mission.

Especially when ordinary civilians earned only two or three vouchers a day helping the military.

Things became even more pronounced after the Combined Command announced that military vouchers could be exchanged for dollars.

Civilian Operators were reportedly fast-tracked through the qualification process.

As a result, some of the originally conscripted Civilian Operators had quickly formed organizations and begun cooperating with the military.

An unofficial nickname emerged.

Military Operators.

A blend of "civil servant" and "Civilian Operator."

Part mockery.

Part envy.

The term referred to people who actively supported and benefited from the American military administration.

Officially, Reality Survival Command classified everyone as Civilian Operators.

Unofficially, it heavily favored those who cooperated.

The transformation into Military Operators was being actively encouraged.

Shin Nain stared out the window at departing operators.

"The Americans built the system brilliantly. Firearm permits. Fast-track dollar exchange approval. Military voucher distribution. Immunity for collateral civilian damage during operations."

His expression hardened.

"They dangled exactly the sort of bait that would appeal to people who couldn't be motivated by faith or duty."

"When wolves gather, shepherd dogs become necessary."

The pastor responded reluctantly.

Lee Sejun crossed his arms and clicked his tongue.

"So if people aren't motivated by faith or duty, they're automatically shallow? What about hope? Loyalty?"

Shin Nain grimaced and put his headset back on.

The pastor smacked his lips and looked toward Goryeoha.

"Ms. Ryeoha, are you alright? You've been like this since we arrived."

Goryeoha sat motionless beneath her poncho, her head completely covered.

The pastor tried comforting her before eventually sighing and turning toward us.

"What should we do?"

Apparently he had realized I'd force-fed Goryeoha the red pill.

He didn't openly criticize me.

But he was clearly hesitant.

His tone toward her had become noticeably more careful.

After all, the situation wasn't simple.

Euthanizing fifty ordinary non-mages.

The scale and details didn't matter.

It was too cruel to excuse.

Too desperate to condemn outright.

Everything had two sides.

And as the pastor grew more cautious, Shin Nain's gaze softened slightly.

"Let her sort out her thoughts, Pastor."

"Hmm... I'm worried she'll go down the wrong path. You're around the same age. Couldn't you look after her a bit?"

"I'll send her to the Lord with a K2."

Shin Nain answered immediately.

"Someone who falls for the Devil's temptation once will fall again. Better to be judged before committing greater sins."

Terrifying bastard.

But I didn't have the energy to argue.

The moment the helicopter door opened, I immediately jumped out.

And the very first thing I did after landing was vomit.

"Bleeeaaargh..."

As I collapsed onto the ground retching, someone patted my shoulder.

"Mr. Jemin, I thought you said the helicopter didn't bother you anymore because the whole world was shaking."

Hamza.

I practically snatched the water bottle he offered.

After pouring water over my face and rinsing my mouth repeatedly, I finally managed to speak.

"I'm not sick from motion sickness."

"Then why?"

"It's disgusting."

"Not motion sickness? Just regular nausea?"

"More people are learning magic."

The reality of rapidly multiplying mages was horrifying.

I hated it.

One of them might surpass me.

One of them might reach the Great Mage realm before I did.

And if that happened...

I might go insane from jealousy.

Maybe I'd kill them.

I wasn't particularly interested in their remains.

But if I killed them out of envy anyway...

Might as well collect the remains afterward.

Hamza's expression twisted oddly.

At that moment Shin Nain approached, wearing a look of pure contempt.

"Mr. Jemin. If you know you're awful, fix yourself. Let's pray together and repent."

"Will doctrinal magic give me something?"

If he offered [Soteriological Conviction], I'd start going to church immediately.

But Shin Nain shook his head.

"The Lord's miracle is already inside you. We have alteration-based crusader rites. Do you still doubt His work?"

"Give me a break."

I stood up and looked around at the Supreme Mages.

Civilians and soldiers alike were constantly stealing glances at us.

I pretended not to notice.

The best way to handle attention was to ignore it most of the time and acknowledge it occasionally.

Shin Nain.

Lee Sejun.

Pastor Park.

Goryeoha.

Hamza.

I didn't possess even a speck of heroism.

Yet looking at this lineup made me realize how precarious South Korea's situation truly was.

Even someone as individualistic as me could feel the crisis facing the community.

I raised a thumb and pointed toward Suwon City Hall, now serving as a military headquarters.

"I'm honestly proud of myself for becoming a Supreme Mage while dragging around such a collection of deadweight."

"Mr. Jemin."

Lee Sejun immediately cut in.

"Why did you leave out 'woman'? Are you discriminating right now?"

I deliberately ignored the lunatic.

Just then, a familiar face strode over.

"Aphorism. It's hard to meet under good circumstances."

The duck-faced sergeant in sunglasses.

He greeted us alongside several soldiers.

"The colonel's waiting. Let's go. You'll be receiving a briefing on the Seongnam situation."

Fortunately, the colonel at Suwon City Hall had survived.

The exhausted officer who had helped us before.

The one without a name tag.

Now that I knew why officers had removed their tags, I saw him differently.

The colonel tried to smile with bloodshot eyes.

Failed.

Then simply spoke.

"It's been a while, Aphorism. I'm glad to see you again."

"I'm glad you're alive too, Colonel."

The pastor nodded.

We took our seats.

Yet more than the reunion itself, what caught my eye were the empty chairs.

Once, the room had been filled with Civilian Operators from southern Gyeonggi Province.

Now only the Supreme Mages remained.

And with Goryeoha joining us as a newcomer, the absences felt even more pronounced.

Father Jeong Yonghwan.

The Writing Bodhisattva.

Venerable Cheonghwi.

They had been different from the forcibly conscripted N-Generation operators.

Even if Cheonghwi had ultimately turned out to be a traitorous spy.

Pastor Park, who usually looked down on other religions, suddenly removed his glasses and began wiping them.

"...Maybe they're scratched."

"If you keep rubbing them like that, you'll break them."

"Shin Nain, they look blurry even after cleaning. That's why I'm wiping them."

Squeak.

Squeak.

Even setting aside Goryeoha, who remained slumped over, the mood couldn't help but become solemn.

The first-generation Civilian Operators had fought horrific monsters before any real system existed.

They volunteered to step into danger during a time when everything was collapsing, armed with far weaker magic and far fewer guns than people had now.

Whether their reasons had been faith or self-interest didn't matter.

Father Jeong Yonghwan and the Writing Bodhisattva had stood beside us.

And they had died.

The time I'd known them was far too short to call it friendship.

Yet I still felt their absence.

Maybe part of me wondered what things would have been like if they had stayed with us until the end.

Feeling a heaviness in my chest, I quietly whispered to Hamza.

"Hamza. Think the priest and the bodhisattva left behind relics? Should we ask if there's anything they left behind?"

"Mr. Jemin, please stop saying garbage like that."

That seemed pretty important to me....

Meanwhile, the colonel patiently waited for the atmosphere to settle before operating the projector.

Duck-Face Sergeant stood beside him.

Apparently Captain Kim Houn and Lieutenant Shin Hangi had been reassigned elsewhere, leaving Duck-Face Sergeant in their place.

"I don't wish to interrupt your reflections, but there is a great deal that must be discussed."

The colonel displayed a PowerPoint presentation and began explaining the situation in Seongnam.

He pointed at locations one by one.

Gangnam Clairvoyant.

His forces.

The 55th Unit.

The zones of engagement.

"The hostile local survivor designated by Combined U.S.–ROK Command and Reality Survival Command as Gangnam Clairvoyant is rapidly advancing south while occupying the closed stations of Subway Line 8 one by one. Their offensive consists of three phases..."

It was the same explanation we had already heard at headquarters.

Human Slime plastic-bag bombs.

Monster-horde manipulation.

Defection campaigns.

Nothing particularly new.

Then Lee Sejun raised his hand.

"Colonel. Why are they securing subway stations? Weren't all Line 8 tracks destroyed to prevent infiltration?"

"Correct. Infiltration through the tracks is impossible."

The colonel nodded.

"However, Gangnam Clairvoyant and his forces appear to be using the closed stations as temporary trenches and shelters from artillery bombardment."

He paused.

"One particularly unusual detail is that despite repeated chemical bombardment and the devastation of surrounding areas, the survival rate of Gangnam Clairvoyant's forces remains abnormally high. More accurately—they are almost never neutralized."

"Are their CBRN defenses really that effective?"

"We can't say for certain."

The colonel shook his head.

"Which is precisely the problem. Their force management and operational discipline are exceptional. Based on previous experience, we suspect military communications may be compromised."

According to the discussion between the colonel and Lee Sejun:

Gangnam Clairvoyant somehow knew exactly where artillery would land.

His forces never entered areas targeted for chemical attacks.

Never approached regions being saturated with gas.

Rarely left the fog.

Rarely exposed themselves.

Instead, they actively spread monster infections among military units maintaining the containment line.

The fog followed the monsters.

Or perhaps the monsters followed the fog.

Field personnel had debated it for months.

Now many were beginning to suspect the monsters came first.

Still, if Gangnam Clairvoyant had only been cautious and secretive, the containment line wouldn't have been in danger of collapse.

The colonel switched slides.

AI-generated composite sketches appeared on the screen.

Created from descriptions provided by the Madam of Yongsan Station.

"These are the localized infiltrative alteration users who continue to pose a direct threat to the containment line despite sniper and special-forces operations."

A man wearing sunglasses and a KN95 mask beneath a yellow-painted bandage wrapped around a helmet.

Yellow-Bandage Defeated Soldier.

A gas-mask-wearing soldier covered in stolen military name tags.

Velcro Corporal.

Their appearances were ridiculous.

Like deserters.

Like losers.

The Supreme Mages seemed unimpressed.

They lacked impact.

"These guys are threatening the containment line?"

Pastor Park laughed in disbelief while putting his glasses back on.

Shin Nain frowned.

Lee Sejun frowned.

Only Hamza looked slightly pale as he glanced toward Goryeoha.

She noticed.

Without raising her head, she spoke quietly.

"...Mr. Gangnam's people are strong. Don't forget they're a mage organization."

"Even if you say that after looking at them..."

The pastor sounded unconvinced.

This time, however, the colonel supported Goryeoha.

"Despite their absurd nicknames and appearances, they are highly dangerous."

He changed the slide again.

"These are intercepted communications from hostile localized infiltrative alteration users operating near northern Seongnam. Listen carefully."

The screen disappeared.

An audio file began playing.

Static filled the room.

Then a voice emerged.

Breathing heavily.

Laughing faintly.

[Ahhh, listen, listen. Can you hear me?]

Even Baek Jemin—the human embodiment of a TOEIC score of four hundred—could tell the English pronunciation was awful.

Calling it Konglish would be generous.

This was Korean-English.

Yet the speaker sounded completely self-satisfied.

[Cut the cables, doesn't matter. Turn the dials, doesn't matter. Don't waste your time. Just listen. We won't attack while you're listening. We'll even hold back the monster hordes. Come on. We're all people here, right? Just listen. Deal?]

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

A microphone being tapped.

Then the speaker laughed.

[Okay, okay. Let me introduce myself first. I'm your senior. You know why? Because I got drafted without knowing shit and got deployed inside Seoul when they told me I was just going to stop some riots. Pretty relatable, right? Makes you feel close to me already, doesn't it? December fifteenth, wasn't it? That's when I got sent into Seoul. Which means I'm your senior by a long shot.]

The laughter was frivolous.

The tone was cheerful.

Bad English.

A chattering magpie-like voice.

It sounded ridiculous.

Until he said one more thing.

[The reason I'm doing this? Because of the people who keep saying we should save them.]

Shin Nain's eyebrow twitched.

Hamza immediately frowned and squeezed his eyes shut.

[People called me a murderer. A butcher. They said that even if South Korea collapsed, the military should have tried to save Seoul citizens. That the army exists to protect the people. That no matter what, you should have tried. That the moment you gave up trying to save them, you became murderers. Know what I thought when I heard that?]

A sharp sensation stabbed through my head.

The voice became sharper too.

Like a spike.

[I realized something. To those people, I wasn't human. They didn't care if I got eaten by monsters. They didn't care if I died. They just wanted to be saved. Soldiers aren't people to them. If a soldier dies? That's not a death. It's one casualty. One unit lost. One more. One more. Tick. Tick. Tick.]

Instinctively, I knew.

Magic.

Something powerful transmitted through sound.

Through words.

I grimaced.

It felt like needles were being driven into my skull.

No amount of physical pain could explain it.

For a moment I seriously considered using Eye Stage 3—[Cognitive Dissonance].

The sensation was cold.

Slimy.

Unpleasant.

[Kids. You're not people to them. They just want you to go save their families. They don't even know what kind of monsters are out there. They just hate you. Aren't you trying to survive too? Don't you have people you're protecting? Doesn't it piss you off?]

"Urgh..."

Someone vomited.

I couldn't tell who.

At least it wasn't Hamza.

[We're not trying to kill all fifty million people. We just want everyone to suffer together. Right? We're all Koreans, aren't we? How does it make sense that some people get eaten by monsters while others demand rescue? How does it make sense that some people get called murderers for killing monsters? You think people will take care of your family after you die? You think your family survives when people start calling them the family of containment-line murderers?]

My head spun.

I rarely got dizzy.

But this was different.

Something supernatural wasn't attacking my reason.

It was manipulating my emotions.

Guiding my thoughts.

This wasn't simple gaslighting.

At first I thought it might be Stage 2 Inverted Tongue Magic—Emotional Explosion.

But it wasn't forcing emotions to erupt.

It was far worse.

Far more insidious.

His words planted doubt.

Is he right?

Could that be true?

Those thoughts crept in.

[Join us. Today is your lucky day. If you see a helmet wrapped in yellow bandages on the battlefield, throw down your weapon. Remove your gas mask. Remove your helmet. Kneel. Raise both hands. We have the power that lets you and your family survive. Bonds. A more practical organization than the military. A more flexible organization. Anyone who threatens your family? Our leader takes care of them. Trust him. He's smarter than the people who abandoned you in Seongnam. If you're smart, if you want to live, if you have someone to protect—think about it during your next break. Let's tear this world apart together. Tap!]

Click.

The recording ended.

And the spike boring into my skull vanished instantly.

Voices filled the room.

"Jesus... I'd feel better after chugging an entire bottle of whiskey."

Lee Sejun was first to react.

Shin Nain pulled out wet wipes and cleaned his mouth.

Hamza bent forward breathing heavily.

Goryeoha curled into herself even tighter.

Only the pastor remained relatively composed.

He stroked the cover of his Bible and clicked his tongue.

"That one is too far gone. If he wants to repent, he'll have to do it at Heaven's gate."

At that moment, the colonel and Duck-Face Sergeant removed earplugs from their ears.

No wonder they'd looked fine.

The bastards hadn't listened.

Seeing my annoyed stare, Duck-Face Sergeant adjusted his sunglasses.

"We already heard it earlier. Please understand."

"...Haah."

Fair enough.

A non-mage would probably go insane listening to that repeatedly.

As a mage, I chose to be magnanimous.

The colonel continued.

"As you heard, this... Yellow-Bandage Defeated Soldier appears to function as the Gangnam Group's primary recruiter, encouraging defections. We don't know exactly what type of magic he's using."

"Inverted Alteration Ear."

Everyone turned.

Shin Nain.

After vomiting once, his face looked pale enough for tuberculosis.

Carefully folding the used wet wipe and putting it away, he answered.

"Hypnosis."

"Suggestion."

"Collapse of rational thought."