Chapter 113
Natural Rights
People are all different.
As for me, I'm the type who suddenly remembers everything I need to do the moment I lie down to sleep. Once I actually fall asleep, I'm out like a corpse, but getting there requires a whole ritual.
Go to the bathroom.
Drink some water.
Readjust my posture for no reason.
Stretch my legs out so the blanket doesn't wrinkle.
Trim my fingernails and toenails so they won't catch on anything.
...
I'd been too exhausted to bother with all that lately, but it seemed I'd finally reached my limit.
My heart was pounding so hard I couldn't keep my eyes closed.
That sensation of having chugged way too much caffeine.
The stiffness around the back of my neck.
The pinching pain.
On top of a body that already felt like it'd been beaten senseless with a laundry paddle, another layer of pain and excitement settled in.
Thump. Thump.
The tingling sensation made the corners of my mouth twitch.
The fact that I'd just filmed the greatest highlight reel of my life—something worthy of being played at my funeral—made me laugh for no reason.
And yet something felt empty.
“Nain, how's your thigh?”
“Hoo... I've done everything I could. We killed the Yellow-Bandage deserter too, so the soldiers should have an easier time operating now.”
“Heartless bastards. Hurting people even while running away.”
Listening to the Christian Duo looking after each other beside me only made the feeling stronger.
I'd forgotten something.
Something incredibly precious.
Something important.
Then my eyes snapped open as I stared up at the clear sky.
I sprang to my feet.
Pastor Park turned toward me.
“Hm? What is it? Baek Jemin, why are you suddenly getting up?”
“We don't have time to hesitate.”
“...Did more mages show up?”
I had almost forgotten the most important spoil of war.
I looked at Shin Nain and Pastor Park with a serious expression and nodded.
“I forgot to cut off Yellow-Bandage's tongue.”
“Ah~. Tsk. The soldiers are already coming, you know?”
“Can't I just do it while they're here?”
I, Baek Jemin,
have lived a life free of shame beneath the heavens.
Any wrongdoing I've committed has merely been cute and harmless little acts of rebellion.
At least, that's what I thought.
Apparently Shin Nain and Pastor Park disagreed.
Shin Nain frowned and spoke first.
“Mr. Jemin. There's nothing inherently wrong with destroying and purifying the remains of a demon you've defeated. Considering how exhausted we are, receiving military cover even sounds somewhat reasonable.”
Based on experience, this was the prelude to criticism.
“Let's skip the flowery language and get to the point.”
“The sight of butchering a human body probably won't leave a very good impression on ordinary soldiers.”
“Hmm.”
I opened my mouth to argue before closing it again.
While fiddling with the strap of my gas mask, I thought it over carefully.
As someone blessed with deep empathy and understanding, I found myself reluctantly agreeing.
“Calling it butchering is a bit much, isn't it?”
“Then what would you call it?”
“Let's call it harvesting. 'Butchering' makes me sound like some kind of human butcher.”
Rather than using the violent and cruel word butchering for processing a human body, I suggested a more refined native Korean expression.
What a beautiful and adorable euphemism.
Even the pastor was speechless.
“You little shit, are you serious?”
“Well, I'm transferring someone's tongue to someone who needs it more. Maybe we should call it redistribution?”
“Fine. Go harvest it, then.”
The moment I received the pastor's permission, I headed downstairs.
As I descended the stairs, soldiers began appearing one after another in the street where we'd fought.
Not special forces.
These were the military units that had been holding back monsters around Sanseong-daero.
Their armbands marked them as veterans of the blockade line.
Flamethrowers and shotguns in hand, they cautiously advanced while scanning their surroundings.
[Survivors confirmed. Disarm yourselves and remain calm while waiting. Any approach will be met with lethal force!]
Judging by the booming voice from the loudspeaker, they'd already spotted us.
After reaching the ground floor via the external staircase, I cooperatively raised both hands in surrender.
Standing quietly beside the road with my arms up, I could feel confused and wary gazes directed at me.
The soldiers slowly approached.
Taking cover.
Poking gun barrels out from behind concealment.
They kept glancing at the wrecked drones scattered across the road but never lowered their weapons.
One of them took a deep breath.
“Hooo...”
“N-Name and affiliation?”
The moment I heard the question, I felt my cheek twitch.
What a wonderful world.
Who could have imagined such a delightful surprise event?
I lowered my voice with as much dignity and gravitas as my name deserved.
“Baek Jemin.”
“Pardon?”
“Baek Jemin of the Supreme Mage faction.”
A silent stir spread through the soldiers.
Some subtly lowered their weapons and darted their eyes around.
The man carrying the flamethrower outright slumped his shoulders.
Even the soldier asking the questions seemed unable to believe it.
“I... must have heard that wrong?”
Ahh—
I love clichés like this.
Deliberately, I moved my raised arms.
The sleeves of my poncho, soaked in blood and bits of flesh, fluttered dramatically.
As someone who understood that presentation was just as important as ability, I couldn't let this moment go to waste.
Listen carefully.
And go brag about it later.
You may even pass it down through generations as a family tradition that you once witnessed the strongest man beyond the blockade line—the five-path Archmage holding back humanity's apocalypse—with your own eyes.
“The greatest contributor to this operation.”
“Tier-One Civilian Operator.”
“Supreme Mage Baek Jemin.”
“...”
“I understand your confusion.”
My crystal-clear reasoning immediately revealed why they weren't applauding.
These non-mages had just witnessed a genuine wizard.
Someone who casually wielded miracles beyond their imagination.
No one could calmly accept the arrival of a being that completely overturned the common sense they'd lived by.
I needed to break the ice.
Before the soldiers could respond, I started applauding myself.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
The sound echoed across the silent road in northern Seongnam, where a fierce battle had raged only moments before.
Clap clap clap clap clap...
I looked at each dumbfounded soldier in turn and continued applauding.
The applause mattered more than the pain wracking my body.
The Seoul mages apparently looked down on non-mages with murderous contempt.
Honestly, it disgusted me.
Calling non-mages parasites who did nothing but consume resources.
Such a twisted superiority complex.
All humans are perfectly equal.
At least, that's what I, Baek Jemin, believe.
So after finishing my applause, I kindly instructed them.
“Next time, clap.”
Non-mages have both the right and the privilege to praise and applaud the Archmage Baek Jemin!
May 13, 2028 — 4:28 PM
The trio known as the Supreme Mage Party was airlifted by helicopter to the military hospital in Seongnam.
It didn't take long before they heard news about the state of the war.
Wounded soldiers.
Troops suffering from psychological trauma.
Exhausted nurses sighing endlessly.
Doctors hurrying through the halls with patient charts in hand.
Civilians whose injuries were severe enough to finally earn them admission to a military hospital.
...
Their conversations drifted through the corridors.
The battle centered around the northern Seongnam subway lines and Sanseong-daero had ended.
It was a heroic victory that successfully overcame an unprecedented crisis—the potential collapse of the blockade line.
In every respect, the military had gained the upper hand.
The Gangnam Group executive who had been relentlessly harassing the military and crushing morale from a district packed with elementary schools—the Yellow-Bandage deserter—and the Sergeant Velcro guarding him had both been killed.
For the military, it was a chance to finally breathe.
Furthermore, the 55th Unit, rumored to consist entirely of mages, had been routed in this battle. Thanks to the special forces' swift containment operations and the cooperative attitude of the civilian operators, the military managed to secure victory with far fewer casualties than originally expected.
...
That was the version of events that had become generally accepted within the military.
As for Shin Nain and me, we found ourselves lying in beds inside a VIP hospital room reserved exclusively for us, forced to receive a visit from some intimidating military police.
A senior officer dispatched directly from the Reality Survival Command had come to request our cooperation.
The officer had his entire face covered by what looked like a balaclava riddled with holes.
Combined with sunglasses and a beret, he looked less like a person and more like a giant black cotton swab.
Naturally, his name tag had been removed, and it was obvious he was deliberately scratching his vocal cords to disguise his voice.
His insignia said captain, though even that might have been fake.
After strictly restricting access to the room, the black cotton-swab officer spoke.
“Everything observed prior to the drone shutdown, along with the sniper's reports, has already been forwarded to high command. Major General Jeon Minho has dismissed the simultaneous failure of several drones as communication malfunctions caused by hastily assembled equipment. Meanwhile, Aphorism's testimony regarding Gangnam Clairvoyant's Stage 4 magic has been elevated to classified status.”
“Wouldn't it be better to just make it public?”
I said it absentmindedly while wrapped in bandages.
The one who reacted more strongly than the officer was Shin Nain.
With one leg suspended in the air by medical restraints, she looked at me with open contempt.
“Mr. Jemin. Did you not hear what happened when Gangnam Clairvoyant used his magic?”
“Well... non-mages dying isn't exactly a new occurrence.”
Given the state of the world, people ought to start getting used to non-mages dying.
In fact, I figured that if people learned what tricks their enemies were using, it would force them into some healthy self-reflection and make them appreciate me even more.
Shin Nain then presented a horrifying possibility.
“Or they may all willingly learn Holy War rituals and join the crusade. I'd be fine with that, but it's certainly not the future you want.”
“No!”
I hadn't even considered the worst-case scenario.
Everyone becoming a mage.
Absolutely not.
I alone should be special.
I alone should stand above the rest.
I refuse to accept a future where everyone becomes a mage!
The black cotton-swab officer watched us with the expression of a man observing lunatics before continuing.
“Frontline soldiers wouldn't be able to handle it. Instead, we intend to issue guidance stating that equipment failures may occur more frequently than before due to extreme combat conditions, and therefore regular maintenance is essential. For now, that's our approach.”
“But if Gangnam Clairvoyant can actually force people to die...”
Shin Nain's concern was reasonable.
The man was infamous for killing from a distance.
A monster capable of murdering someone simply by reaching a certain level of awareness.
But my opinion differed.
“He only kills non-mages.”
Not everyone.
“Mr. Jemin.”
“You know it's true. Mages naturally develop resistance to mutation effects, and the higher their realm, the weaker magical effects become. Gangnam Clairvoyant's long-range killing method should work on the same principle. Isn't it reasonable to assume he'd need much more preparation to kill an actual mage?”
I suspected his long-range killing ability was based on cognition.
Knowing someone's face and name seemed enough to fulfill the conditions.
Then why did groups like Madam Yongsan Station and other mage organizations still exist?
Gangnam Clairvoyant was gathering forces to break through the blockade line.
The most effective way to do that would be recruiting powerful mages.
The possibility that he simply spared fellow members of the 66 Society was plausible, but if that were true, his attempts to break through the blockade should have been far more aggressive.
Strengthen Eye Stage 1 with Tongue magic.
Send a scout.
Locate a target.
Kill them.
Simple.
Yet he hadn't done that.
Most ordinary people would have racked their brains over this mystery.
The intellect of an Archmage arrived at a far simpler conclusion.
No one in Gangnam Clairvoyant's faction was at his level.
What if killing a mage required a different amount of information than killing a non-mage?
What if killing a non-mage only required a face, name, and affiliation...
But killing a mage required knowing their realm and magical specialties as well?
When Gangnam Clairvoyant became involved, he must have observed us with his clairvoyance.
I certainly would have.
Yet despite killing two of his executives, we were still alive.
There was only one explanation.
The sixty-one dead military generals were non-mages.
We were mages.
The first person to react was the black cotton-swab officer.
“An extremely interesting hypothesis. One that cannot be ignored... and one that is deeply unpleasant.”
Hidden behind his sunglasses, his eyes were impossible to read.
He clasped his hands behind his back and paced briefly before turning toward us.
“I'll report it immediately.”
With that, he left the room alongside the military police.
The person who entered afterward was Pastor Park.
Grumbling, he looked between us.
“Rather than praising your achievements, they're more interested in making threats. Sigh. I couldn't even ask about our kids at Seongnam City Hall. The atmosphere was too intense.”
“What did the doctors say about us?”
“Baek Jemin, you little punk. Aren't you worried about the people at City Hall?”
The ones left there were Hamza, Goryeoha, and Lee Sejun.
Worrying about those monsters felt like the most pointless thing imaginable.
More important were Shin Nain's injuries and my own.
Pastor Park let out a long sigh and sat beside Shin Nain.
“Nain barely avoided having her artery severed, but it looks like some nerves were damaged. We'll have to wait and see. Even if her recovery is miraculous, even if circumstances force her deployment, she absolutely needs three days of rest. No exceptions.”
Despite hearing something quite serious, Shin Nain calmly folded her hands and prayed.
“The Lord is granting me rest. Amen.”
Now it was time to ask the truly important question.
“What about me?”
“Apparently Stage 2 Heart is giving you ridiculous recovery. They said Nain might have to prepare herself for a permanent limp, but all you need is food, sleep, and antibiotics.”
Hmmmm.
This is exactly why I learned magic.
If I were the old non-mage Baek Jemin, I'd already be on my way to the crematorium.
“Then let's give Nain a Tongue doping session.”
“I already transferred ownership of that tongue to Mister Anderson.”
“WHY?!”
I shouted involuntarily.
Pastor Park scowled like Satan himself and flicked my forehead.
But I was Super Baek Jemin now.
A Stage 2 Heart mage.
I intended to enjoy the benefits of my magic.
What was Heart magic if not a spell that improved your physical abilities after eating some food?
Normally I never would've dodged that flick.
But Heart mages are different.
Simply leaning backward was enough.
The flick missed.
“Oh?”
“Pastor, I'm a Heart mage now.”
At that exact moment, something hard struck the back of my head.
Thunk!
“GAAH!”
“Baek Jemin, maybe calculate the distance properly. You missed the pillow and slammed your head into the wall.”
I had misjudged the distance.
Now there was a lump on the back of my head.
How is that even possible?
Goddammit.
What kind of bullshit luck is this...
“The command says they're finally planning to make serious use of remains and acquired relics.”
“They aren't touching our loot, right?”
Pastor Park bit into a pear with the skin still on.
Crunch.
While chewing, he answered.
“The reason I transferred ownership of your Flesh-Leech and Yellow-Bandage's tongue to Mister Anderson is because of that. South Korea's basically under American military administration at this point. They call it a request for cooperation, but if they keep pressuring us, we won't be able to stop them. Putting things under an American's name is the safest option.”
“What if Anderson just gobbles everything up?”
“You've already gotten plenty. Give up one item. Besides, do you think Mister Anderson is the only beneficiary here? You realize we're getting this treatment because we've got powerful backing in the United States, right?”
“Damn it. Stop talking while spraying pear juice everywhere.”
I grumbled while pretending to wipe myself off.
Honestly, I couldn't imagine what else they'd do with the remains.
When I glanced over, even Shin Nain was frowning deeply.
It was then that Pastor Park sighed and stared at the half-eaten pear in his hand.
“Apparently every temple, church, cathedral... basically every religious facility in the country is about to have its symbolic artifacts requisitioned. They're gathering volunteers to push back the fog.”
“Volunteers?”
“It means if you walk in and awaken as a mage, that's considered consent.”
Crunch.
Pastor Park took another bite.
Neither Shin Nain nor I could immediately respond.
“Lord, protect us through this calamity. Amen.”
As the sound of crunching pears filled the room, we silently listened to Pastor Park's prayer.