Chapter 12

The Deuce-and-a-Half Carries the Spellcasters

The fragrant smell of cheap coffee greeted me.

Sitting on the second floor of the study café, sipping instant coffee and idly crushing the paper cup in my hand, I glanced out the window.

Armored vehicles and soldiers came and went constantly.

Civilians hurried along the sidewalks, casting nervous glances toward them.

It had become a familiar sight.

And as it became more familiar, the voices of anxiety and discontent grew louder.

Yawning lazily, I unlocked my phone.

January 10th, 10:47 AM.

Four days had already passed since that nightmarish mobilization order.

Korea was gradually becoming a place where weekdays and weekends no longer mattered.

Yet in some respects, daily life still persisted.

The casual sound of a credit card payment being processed downstairs was proof enough.

"Owner, paying for the coffee."

The café that the military had requisitioned as a research center for civilian Operators had become surprisingly popular among soldiers.

Most of that reputation came from the owner's bravery.

While everyone else was busy fleeing, he had stubbornly remained behind to protect his business from looters.

At least now he got paid for selling instant coffee.

The people still enjoying anything resembling normal life were us Operators.

The Korea visible through my phone screen was a different story.

Artillery bombardment begins in Seoul? Military dismisses reports as gas pipeline explosions caused by unrest... Experts condemn explanation as implausible.

The Strange Silence — What Is Happening in Seoul Right Now?

Shocking Orders Issued at Namtaeryeong and Gyeongsu-daero: "Shoot Anything Approaching Without Authorization." Public Outrage Grows. Has the Military Forgotten Its Duty?

President Evacuates to Incheon Government Complex, Signals Possible Wartime Economic Transition... Limited Rationing in Southern Gyeonggi Under Consideration as Residents Continue Fleeing.

What cheerful headlines.

If I kept reading this stuff, my personality would probably rot away.

I turned off my phone and focused on the magic handbook instead.

Those destined for salvation are already chosen, but no one knows who they are. Therefore one must prove through one's own life that one belongs among the saved.

Life was too short to spend staring only at depressing things.

Though, to be fair, I still lacked the courage to turn the next page of the handbook.

So I just stared at the same page over and over.

Ever since developing my theory that Dogma-type magic emerged through the repeated cultivation of body and mind—through adherence to doctrine and ritual—the whole thing had become easier to understand.

It wasn't about devotion.

It was about the depth of belief.

And belief wasn't merely thinking something might be true.

It was closer to the way one fundamentally perceived and interpreted reality itself.

The fact that Catholic and Protestant clergy possessed different forms of magic was the key clue.

Catholicism believed that through the Eucharist, one received the flesh and blood of God into the human body, sharing in divine grace and thereby securing salvation.

At least that was my rough understanding.

The Eucharist lay at the heart of their concept of salvation.

Protestantism also valued communion.

But Protestant thought contained a strong strain of predestination.

In Korea, that tradition had evolved further into a doctrine emphasizing justification through faith.

Faith itself became salvation.

Which was probably why their magic manifested as Soteriological Assurance.

The reason some Christians shouted "Believe and go to Heaven, disbelieve and go to Hell!" and called unbelievers servants of Satan was rooted, at least partly, in this theological framework.

From their perspective, rejecting faith meant rejecting salvation itself.

Could such belief arise casually?

From the perspective of ordinary people like us, probably not.

You'd need either the unwavering conviction of a fanatic or a worldview so deeply ingrained that no amount of argument could shake it.

For example, if someone shouted "Believe and go to Heaven, disbelieve and go to Hell!" at me, I'd immediately get angry and ask whether they were claiming all my ancestors were burning in Hell.

Belief sounded like a simple word.

But in practice, it was closer to a person's worldview.

Then another question occurred to me.

What if someone genuinely believed in Cthulhu?

Or what if a schizophrenic person awakened Dogma-type magic?

I found myself arriving at a surprisingly straightforward answer.

Their body would collapse.

Or they would lose their magic.

Because Cthulhu, by definition, was a being whose mere existence shattered sanity and dissolved identity.

Someone who truly believed in Cthulhu would effectively be obligated to destroy their own reason and sense of self in order to prove their faith.

And belief could only exist within an intelligent mind.

Such a contradiction couldn't sustain itself.

Perhaps someone could create an exception by believing in a version of Cthulhu that didn't induce madness.

Or by relying on a powerful magical artifact during communion.

But the moment compromise entered the picture, Dogma-type magic would begin weakening.

Unless Cthulhu actually existed, a Cthulhu-based Dogma-type magic system would inevitably collapse under its own contradictions.

As for schizophrenics...

If a schizophrenic person recognized their illness, then perhaps they could force themselves to wield Dogma-type magic.

But their perception of reality was unstable and inconsistent.

Their worldview lacked the firmness required.

Eventually their beliefs would either disappear under treatment or collapse into paranoia they themselves could no longer trust.

Even if they became mages, I doubted they could reliably use their powers under pressure.

"Fascinating."

"Baek Jemin, quit your bullshit and let's go."

At some point, Lee Sejun had begun speaking casually to me.

He slapped my shoulder.

I immediately protested.

"Come on. Isn't this interesting? We can literally use magic. Doesn't that excite you?"

"Excite me? Honestly, I'm gonna tell you something."

He shrugged.

"I prefer warriors to spellcasters."

"...What?"

"When I played games, I always picked heavily armored warriors."

"Wow..."

I was left speechless.

From the corner, Corporal Park Sehyeok muttered again.

"If you'd studied this hard in school, you'd have gotten into Seoul National University."

"Exactly. Quit studying magic and let's go eat."

"Unbelievable."

I let out a long sigh.

"A guy becomes a wizard and still talks about warriors."

I packed up my things.

At some point, the four of us had become a strange little community bound by fate.

Shin Nain, forever listening to hymns through his earphones.

Lee Sejun, who spent all day on his phone dreaming of being a heavily armored warrior.

Park Sehyeok, who communicated primarily through complaints.

And me, Baek Jemin—the only one seriously researching magic and chasing every theory that crossed my mind.

If the religious types formed their own groups, then so would we.

And so we headed to the cafeteria and enjoyed an oddly peaceful lunch.

"It's weird."

I glanced around.

"Everyone says the world is ending, but we're just sitting here eating."

"If you don't have ability, getting screwed is only natural..."

Park Sehyeok muttered.

The words were cynical.

But nobody disagreed.

Slurp.

I tasted the spicy hangover soup and unconsciously frowned.

The things people had been saying all day felt ominous.

And ominous premonitions rarely turned out to be wrong.

***

January 10th, 2:51 PM

We were sprawled out in our quarters, staring blankly at our magic handbooks, when hurried footsteps began echoing through the hallway.

"Looks like we're getting worked again."

The moment Lee Sejun muttered those words—

BANG!

The door flew open.

Lieutenant Shin Hangi and our ever-resourceful driver stood there, faces drained of color.

"Everyone to the conference room. Emergency."

"Emergency?"

"It's urgent. There'll be an announcement soon. Move!"

I had never seen Shin Hangi rush people like that before.

I immediately threw on my combat jacket, tied my boots as fast as I could, and followed.

As we hurried through the corridors, soldiers could be seen running in groups.

Large areas of Suwon City Hall were already filled with fully equipped troops rushing outside under the direction of their officers.

The four Alteration-type mages, Shin Hangi, and the driver were practically jogging.

Then the announcement came.

[All personnel to combat readiness. All personnel to combat readiness. Civil servants and military employees are to report immediately for equipment issuance.]

At that point, it became obvious that something had gone horribly wrong.

The Dogma-type mages were also moving toward the usual conference room under Captain Kim Houn's guidance.

When we entered, the colonel with the name tag was waiting for us again.

This time, however, nearly all of the officers who normally surrounded him were gone.

Only the colonel remained.

He hurriedly lowered the volume on his radio, but not before snippets leaked out.

"...This is Infiltration Team... failed to secure substation..."

"...Unable to persuade railway personnel..."

The colonel licked his dry lips.

After confirming that all the Dogma-type mages and the four Alteration-types had arrived, he gestured toward Captain Kim Houn and Lieutenant Shin Hangi with a trembling chin.

They closed the doors and took positions like guards.

Only then did the colonel begin speaking.

"At approximately 11:00 AM today, January 10th, communications were lost with military units stationed at Yongsan Station and the Southern Bus Terminal inside Seoul. Their primary mission was preventing evacuation attempts using public transportation and railways. We believe the loss of contact was caused by the unrest occurring within Seoul."

The room went silent.

"The military command has judged those units to be effectively destroyed and has reinforced the containment line accordingly, however—"

"Preventing evacuation attempts?"

Monk Cheonghwi interrupted.

"I sincerely hope I misheard that."

The colonel exchanged a glance with Shin Hangi.

The lieutenant approached the monk and whispered something into his ear.

Only then did Cheonghwi fold his hands together and begin quietly praying.

"Namu Amitabha..."

The colonel continued.

"Immediately after the mobilization order on January 6th, the military attempted to redeploy forces to the outskirts of Seoul. Numerous personnel were lost during the process. During the last four days, in order to prevent uncontrolled refugee flows from pouring out of Seoul, containment lines were established across Southern Gyeonggi and the Gyeongin region. Individuals attempting to breach those lines have been treated as potential threats and repeatedly subjected to lethal force. Namtaeryeong and Gyeongsu-daero have served as key defensive positions."

"Lethal force? Potential threats?"

Pastor Park Yohan exploded.

"You lunatics! Just say you shot civilians!"

This time the colonel didn't hesitate.

"After confirming the destruction of the final containment units remaining inside Seoul, the military attempted precision artillery strikes to disable railway substations and secure rail infrastructure. Those operations failed."

His expression turned cold.

"According to statements released by refugee groups who have seized stations and trains, they intend to use the subway and rail networks to evacuate. They are pleading with us not to stop them."

The room remained silent.

Then the colonel delivered the real problem.

"According to the final transmissions received from the Yongsan and Southern Terminal units, Amalgams are mixed among the refugees."

No one spoke.

"With the emergence of large numbers of Type-Tofu Fusion Mimics throughout Seoul, panicked civilians attempted to seize trains. The military is currently preparing drone-assisted precision strikes, station demolitions, track destruction, and bridge demolitions to stop them, however—"

Who could even respond to that?

The colonel checked his wristwatch.

His cracked lips parted slowly.

"Negotiations with railway engineers have failed. Efforts to secure substations have failed due to heavy fog reducing visibility below fifty meters and repeated Amalgam appearances. Therefore, at 3:00 PM the military will begin destroying all subway rail lines."

The room froze.

"The first train is expected to depart Yongsan Station at approximately 3:11 PM."

His gaze swept across us.

"Our objective is to stop those evacuation trains inside the containment zone and prevent the spread of Amalgams."

The explanation hit like a hammer.

"Even accounting for fog and obstacles, a train departing Yongsan at 3:11 PM would reach Suwon Station in roughly twenty-four to thirty minutes. Given Suwon's importance as a transportation hub in Southern Gyeonggi, failure to stop the trains there would compromise the security of the entire region."

BEEP.

The alarm on his analog watch sounded.

The colonel clasped his hands behind his back and stared at us with bloodshot eyes.

"All Operators are hereby ordered to proceed to Suwon Station and prepare for containment-line breach operations."

His voice hardened.

"Stop them."

The room held its breath.

"Even if every last one of them must be killed."

***

"Hurry! Get in!"

"What unit are you with?! Get your head on straight!"

"Just load them first! We need to move!"

The area outside Suwon City Hall had become a shrine to military vehicles.

Officers shouted.

Soldiers scrambled.

Armored personnel carriers, deuce-and-a-half trucks, and hastily requisitioned vans were loaded with personnel.

We weren't exempt.

The resourceful driver climbed into the cab of a deuce-and-a-half truck.

The mages piled into the back.

Lieutenant Shin Hangi boarded as the vehicle commander and hammered on the side of the truck.

"Move out!"

At his command, our truck received top-priority clearance.

Other convoy commanders who had tried to move first received radio calls and reluctantly made way.

But none of us felt relieved.

The faces of the religious practitioners were complicated.

Only Bodhisattva Geulmun nodded coldly.

"They're no longer human."

No one knew whether he was comforting himself or everyone else.

"They're beyond Heaven, beyond reincarnation, beyond Hell. Ending them is the right thing to do."

The truck rumbled forward.

Only Shin Hangi's voice cut through the noise.

"You'll receive weapons on-site! Right now everyone's busy moving rifles and ammunition. The entire railway sector's in chaos!"

I glanced at the other three Alteration-types.

My concern slipped out before I could stop it.

"Even if I can see ten seconds into the future..."

I swallowed.

"Can I really fight those monsters just because I know what's going to happen ten seconds early?"

"Heh..."

Only Lee Sejun answered.

And even he sounded uncertain.

I raised my head.

Beyond Suwon.

Beyond the concrete canyons of the city.

Fog was spreading.

Slowly.

Relentlessly.

I reached into my pocket and touched the magic handbook.

The fog was dangerous.

A nightmare.

But it was also the only place that could teach me the magic I needed to survive.

The fact that someone like me—

Someone who used to run away from tutoring lessons—

Now considered it fortunate to sprint into life-or-death magical tutoring sessions inside a monster-infested fog...

What a ridiculous world.

"Haah..."

I stared at the fog and sighed.

"Fuck."

So this was why adults were always telling kids to study.