Chapter 20
The Association That Creates What Doesn't Exist
I, Baek Jemin, am someone who always does my best, anytime and anywhere.
But I also know that the phrase "doing my best" isn't something that easily convinces other people. After days spent clenching and unclenching my bandage-free left hand while digging through all sorts of mystical and occult books, a familiar face finally came to visit.
"Baek... Jemin?"
It was Hamza.
Thinking back on it, he was probably the person I had the fewest points of contact with, so I wondered what had brought him here. After shifting his eyes around awkwardly for a moment, Hamza leaned closer and whispered cautiously.
"Later, give me a piece of Richam."
"Isn't Islam supposed to prohibit pork?"
"I can just pray to Allah afterward."
After a brief moment of consideration, I nodded.
Sure, Hamza was a Muslim who had come from Pakistan, but if a man wrapped samgyeopsal around a shot of soju and knocked it back, wasn't he practically an honorary Korean?
Sharing a piece of Richam was the least I could do.
Besides, if he intended to work things out with his faith on his own, that wasn't really my business.
At that, Hamza flashed his teeth in a broad grin and sat down beside me.
"You don't seem very rushed, Mr. Baek Jemin."
"Hm?"
"Look at everyone outside. They're all on edge, tense as knives. But you're holed up in here doing nothing but reading books."
For a moment, I thought I saw a strange glimmer flash through Hamza's eyes.
Blinking, I let out a dry chuckle and closed the collected works of Lovecraft I had been reading. I'd picked it up hoping to gain some inspiration about occultism and strange mythologies, and since I had been nodding off anyway, the interruption was welcome.
"What, are the monsters going to stop just because I'm in a hurry? If the containment line breaks, we're all going to end up playing under radioactive fallout clouds together."
"Huh..."
"Worrying and agonizing over things you can't do anything about only wears down your body and mind. You just do the best you can. Isn't that what people mean when they say you'd plant an apple tree even if the world were ending?"
"Mr. Baek Jemin... that's more convincing than I expected. Where'd you hear that?"
"Something I told my parents while holding a report card with mock exam grades of 7, 8, and 9 in Korean, English, and Math."
"Are higher numbers good?"
"It means there's nowhere to go but up."
Of course, my father and mother hadn't been satisfied with my profound wisdom and had immediately gone looking for something to beat me with.
Looking back, it was all a fond memory.
Sipping the coffee some thoughtful driver had brought me, I relaxed into my chair.
"More importantly, Hamza, why aren't you going back home?"
"I worked hard to build a life here. I was preparing for my naturalization exam. I was going to bring my family over..."
The two of us carried on with a conversation that was mostly pointless but still somehow meaningful.
Hamza was a magician capable of a doctrinal predictive spell called Angel's Intuition. It seemed to function somewhere between danger detection and precognition.
Which meant that as long as I stayed glued to Hamza's side, I should be relatively safe.
At that moment, I was seriously considering that whenever I went anywhere, I should stick close either to Pastor Park Yohan, with his unwavering certainty of salvation, or to Hamza.
Bzzzz—
Since I had blocked my parents after they called me nonstop, the only time my phone vibrated was when new messages appeared in the group chat.
I motioned for Hamza to wait a moment and checked the messenger.
Everyone was losing their minds.
[Holy shit.]
[What the hell are these monster bastards?]
[No, more importantly, how did the government hide this until now?]
[Those crazy bastards hid this for two whole months? How does that even stay hidden? Is the government insane?]
The guy who still insisted on calling himself my little brother apparently hadn't checked his phone yet. The unread count next to his name remained at one.
To keep my friend company through the shattered screen of my phone, I threw in a few replies.
[You finally saw it?]
[The national address is on right now. You didn't watch it?]
[Idiot, remember those monster-fighting tips I gave you?]
[Holy shit, I actually survived because of that.]
At least his overreaction had made me interested in this so-called national address.
Current time: February 1st, 9:58 AM.
I glanced at Hamza.
"Want to watch together?"
"I've got a phone too."
Instead of continuing the conversation, Hamza began searching for the live broadcast on his own device.
South Korea was practically in a wartime state, yet the cell towers still worked, data still flowed, and the two of us remained completely relaxed.
Watching everyone else suffer while quietly enjoying every advantage available seemed like the secret to living a long life.
Soon, the President appeared on the screen, bowing deeply before speaking.
"Citizens of the Republic of Korea, our administration has wronged you. We misjudged the severity of the situation and believed it could be contained. We treated nearly ten million Seoul residents as potential carriers and placed them under quarantine and lockdown. And only now are we revealing the truth to the public..."
It was an incredibly peaceful morning.
The sunlight was bright, a gentle breeze drifted through the air, and somewhere nearby birds chirped cheerfully.
"...As a result, 150,000 members of the Armed Forces have blocked Seoul's major roads and rail lines while leveling surrounding areas to create designated kill zones. Our government now acknowledges that this situation is effectively a state of war and will implement new measures immediately. We understand your disappointment. Nevertheless, we ask that you once more place your trust in the military and government, both of which are determined to restore order..."
Clack. Clack. Clack.
The footsteps were louder than the President's speech.
I let out a breath and looked up calmly.
"Operations officers, let's go. It's starting."
That was when the sound of military boots became unmistakably clear.
Captain Kim Houn and First Lieutenant Shin Hangi stood there with their helmets tucked under their arms, watching the national address alongside Hamza and me before letting out small sighs.
***
February 1st, 2028.
The first containment line surrounding Seoul miraculously held.
Living up to the reputation of South Korea's military, every available ounce of firepower had been thrown into the fight, successfully preventing any Amalgams from breaking through on the ground.
At least, that's what the government believed.
And what the people wanted to believe.
By the time it was estimated that tens of thousands—perhaps over a hundred thousand—Amalgams had been repelled, rumors placed military casualties somewhere between six and seven thousand personnel.
Of course, those numbers only referred to frontline units maintaining the containment line.
No one yet knew what had become of the military units trapped inside Seoul.
After repeated bombardments, including thermobaric weapons supplied with American support, the fog had begun to clear.
The outskirts of Seoul had been transformed into a concrete graveyard, and even the fog seemed to have lost some of its momentum.
When the Amalgam assaults ceased for several days, the government finally judged that the crisis had temporarily entered a lull and began implementing a more systematic response.
"Respecting the strategic and tactical capabilities of our ally, the United States, the government will establish a Korea–United States Joint Command in Pyeongtaek and Osan dedicated to the Seoul Incident..."
***
While all the magicians gathered in the conference room, the recorded national address played across a white projection screen.
To ordinary civilians, this was all they knew.
The details behind the scenes remained hidden.
A colonel with his name tag removed paused the video and turned toward us.
"As I mentioned before, the nuclear strike scenarios were classified at Level 3. We expected some information to leak. But what I'm about to discuss is genuine Level 1 classified information."
Each magician had been issued a thick file after signing secrecy agreements.
The first page contained ominous warnings.
Flipping through at the colonel's instruction revealed the complex reality of the situation.
"Following ongoing behind-the-scenes negotiations, the United States has abandoned its original insistence on nuclear strikes. Instead, it has concluded that South Korea is both the most capable system for handling this monster crisis and a vital ally. As such, it has pledged large-scale support."
Initially, the United States had considered withdrawing or repositioning portions of U.S. Forces Korea while preparing for the possibility of nuclear action.
After hearing the government's arguments, however, it changed course and agreed to establish a Korea–U.S. Joint Command while assuming operational control of the crisis response.
The presumed reasons for American involvement were as follows:
- Determine the origin of the fog and the monsters and uncover the truth behind the incident. Investigate whether similar events could occur within the United States.
- Recognize that conventional military power alone might be insufficient against such threats elsewhere and develop military doctrine for combating large-scale anomalous biological entities.
- Preserve security throughout the Pacific region.
- Acknowledge the existence of localized reality-altering phenomena known as "magic." The United States was reportedly assembling advisory committees consisting of occult practitioners and theologians.
Naturally, not everyone was pleased.
Shin Nain still looked disappointed that Seoul hadn't been nuked, while Staff Sergeant Lee Sejun raised a question that seemed rooted in patriotism.
"We're not some outdated military. This is the Republic of Korea Armed Forces in the 2020s. We've held off this insane situation for two months already. Doesn't that prove our capabilities? So why are the Americans still in charge?"
"An excellent question."
The colonel nodded tiredly and switched to the next slide.
As expected, it concerned a neighboring country that few of us welcomed discussing.
China.
"The People's Republic of China continues to advocate nuclear strikes. However, after learning about the establishment of the Korea–U.S. Joint Command and the scale of American support, it has slightly revised its position. Rather than immediate action, it now proposes convening the UN Security Council for authorization should the containment line fail."
China had originally argued not only for nuclear strikes against Seoul but for the vitrification of the entire Korean Peninsula in the name of continental and human security.
Once it became clear that the United States intended to intervene directly, however, Beijing shifted toward a more active and comprehensive strategy.
The presumed motives behind China's actions were as follows:
- To prevent threats from reaching China's eastern coastline and to demonstrate that this was a crisis affecting all humanity, China had begun redeploying military forces near the Yalu River. It appeared to be designating all of North Korea as a kill zone in preparation for a containment breach.
- China maintained its nuclear-strike policy but reduced it to tactical nuclear weapons. Simultaneously, it declared that the People's Liberation Army would participate directly in efforts to contain the crisis.
- China demanded basing rights on western island territories near Ganghwa Island to support military assistance and logistical operations, likely as a means of exerting pressure on the South Korean government, which had relocated to Incheon.
4. Through civilian aid and military intervention in this crisis, China sought to reduce South Korea's dependence on the United States while expanding its own influence.
At that, Pastor Park Yohan let out a string of curses.
"Ah, for fuck's sake. What about the damn Japanese?"
"They're currently arguing internally over whether they should revise their pacifist constitution. China is adamantly insisting that such a revision can never be allowed. The United States thinks revision is necessary, but public opinion within Japan is protesting against sending the Self-Defense Forces because of anti-war sentiment."
I hadn't expected much from them anyway.
Considering those guys used to talk about Japan and Korea as one body, maybe part of them would secretly welcome a darker version of that unity—if the containment line failed, we'd all die together under the same nuclear fallout.
The colonel pressed his cheek with his thumb and forefinger before continuing.
"You will all retain civilian status during this crisis. You will also possess the right to refuse military requests."
"Huh? Why?"
This time, I asked.
Of course, it was wonderful news, exactly what I had hoped for, but considering the kind of things the Military Manpower Administration usually pulled, sudden generosity was suspicious by default.
The colonel kindly explained the reality of South Korea's current situation.
"The government is preparing for the worst-case scenario. If the People's Liberation Army enters Ganghwa Island and the western islands under the pretext of protecting civilians and suppressing the crisis, operational control has already been transferred to the Korea–U.S. Joint Command established in Pyeongtaek and Osan. Preparations have also been completed to transfer much of the government's practical administrative functions..."
The reason the government couldn't leave Incheon wasn't simply because of population density.
There was concern that unidentified phenomena like the Amalgams might have infected VIPs.
The leadership could be compromised entirely in the worst case.
Whether China knew this or not, the government feared that if the PLA entered places like Ganghwa Island and staged a show of force, South Korea could effectively become a puppet state.
Furthermore, according to the colonel, China also appeared to have become aware of magic.
Otherwise, there was no reason for people who had been shouting "nuke it" nonstop to suddenly start hinting at military deployments on the Korean Peninsula.
"As such, if the Korea–U.S. Joint Command were to formally conscript operators, it would provide justification for claims that Korean citizens are being turned into living weapons, potentially increasing the scale of Chinese intervention. Therefore, the government intends to emphasize your status as private citizens by granting civilian operators limited legal immunity, independent operational authority, military supply priority, and similar administrative privileges."
At last, the briefing came to an end.
And the reason we had all been gathered here was finally revealed.
"Accordingly, you will effectively be assigned to the Joint Reality Survival Command's Combined Alteration Operations Group under the Korea–U.S. Joint Command. However, externally, you will operate as an independent and autonomous civilian organization. Therefore, you are to determine your own name, purpose, motto, and organizational character."
That was why a room full of magicians with vastly different backgrounds had been brought together.
Gathered inside a reopened social welfare office established specifically for magicians, I found myself strangely nostalgic.
People who normally would never meet—or would desperately avoid meeting—were now forced together.
At times, I wondered how we were any different from the Amalgams.
Anyway, the first person to speak was none other than the resident idiot, Shin Nain.
With earphones plugged in, bobbing his shoulders to unheard music, he suddenly lit up and began slashing at the air with his hand like it was a real sword.
"How about The Crusaders of Divine Judgment? Sounds fitting for a group fighting Satan's armies."
"We've got a Muslim and a Buddhist monk here."
"Then let's all believe in the Lord! Repent!"
Hamza shook his head while absentmindedly touching his turban.
"Jesus was a great prophet, but not the son of God. Also, it isn't good to casually speak a prophet's name."
"How dare you question the divinity of our Lord!"
"Then how about The Sword of Allah? It's named after Khalid ibn al-Walid, one of Islam's greatest commanders. Muslims would love it."
"Koreans don't exactly have positive feelings toward Islam. Absolutely not!"
Anyone hearing those suggestions would assume we were founding a terrorist organization.
Pastor Park crossed his arms and adjusted his narrow-framed glasses.
"What about The Trumpet of Jericho?"
"Too boring. Too pretentious."
"Damn it. Then let's hear your idea, Baek Jemin!"
So it was finally my turn.
In my opinion, a truly transparent organization should have a name that immediately explained what it did.
Clear. Direct. Impossible to misunderstand.
It also needed to be objective and neutral enough to pursue its goals regardless of religion.
As far as I was concerned, there was only one perfect choice.
"Let's call ourselves the Supreme Archmages."
It was unanimously rejected.
After several more rounds of pointless debate, the silent monk Cheonghwi quietly pressed his palms together and spoke.
"When people with different intentions are forcibly tied together, agreement becomes difficult. Though your greater goals may align, you will inevitably diverge over smaller matters. Bind yourselves too tightly and the rope becomes rigid rather than resilient. Why not first reveal the intentions each of you carry?"
It was a reasonable suggestion.
Were all of us really here to save the nation?
I certainly wasn't.
Only then did we begin discussing our individual goals and beliefs.
In a situation this desperate, some might have thought it absurd.
But personally, I found something thrilling about a group of magicians gathering together to form what was essentially a secret society.
If the country got nuked, well... what could anyone do?
I wasn't broken enough to find peace in the guillotine blade of nuclear annihilation slowly licking at my neck.
But I was experiencing an incredible rush of dopamine.
If we failed, nuclear weapons would fall.
And the only way to stop that was to gain stronger magic.
To obtain stronger magic, we had to willingly enter the fog filled with monsters and risk death.
It was a perfect cycle.
To escape death, you had to walk willingly into death.
To survive, you needed stronger magic.
To gain stronger magic, you had to be prepared to throw away your life.
Wasn't it exhilarating?
Didn't it drive you insane?
My suffering led to hope.
My suffering guaranteed my salvation.
This wasn't some empty promise that hard work might be rewarded.
This was a world where if you truly sacrificed flesh and bone, rewards were guaranteed.
One hundred percent.
Those monsters in the fog embodied that miracle.
Before that omnipotent power vanished beneath nuclear fire, I had to seize it first.
Unfortunately, very few people understood my philosophy.
Only Pastor Park Yohan looked at me with a strange expression.
Eventually, at his insistence, we began reciting the vow that would become our organization's motto.
"Words may seem weightless. They may seem to vanish with memory. Yet they move people's hearts. The Ark of the Covenant proves as much. Before laws were carved into stone, there were words and sounds. Before written law guided mankind, covenants guided mankind."
As he spoke, Pastor Park stared directly at me.
As a man who understood the weight of words, I nodded solemnly.
After all, I had already promised my father that I would become a great archmage.
Therefore, I had no choice but to succeed.
"Haaah... fuck..."
"Pastor, you sigh a lot."
"Pastor! Youth Ministry Leader Candidate Shin Nain reporting for duty!"
Pastor Park looked at me and Shin Nain before letting out a sigh filled with genuine joy.
"The youth of Korea are in excellent shape. Wonderful."
And so, at last, we magicians spoke the vows that embodied our respective desires.
Pastor Park spoke first, narrowing his eyes.
"To oppose those who desecrate the Incarnation of the Lord and the human body made in His image."
Next came Hamza, the honorary Korean from Pakistan.
After glancing around nervously, he revealed a surprisingly mundane wish.
"...I was approved for permanent residency. After this is over, I can either return home or become naturalized with my family. I... I want a better tomorrow."
Shin Nain tapped his earphones with a finger and shook his head as though Hamza were hopeless.
Then he grinned confidently.
"To stop the power of Satan and his armies from invading this world!"
Next was Staff Sergeant Lee Sejun.
He slapped his thigh with his palm.
"I can't stand by and watch my country disappear."
Monk Cheonghwi quietly bowed his head.
"I too was overcome with fear in the subway. My cultivation is still woefully inadequate. I wish to strengthen my spirit alongside ordinary people. To become someone who feels ashamed before no one."
Finally, it was my turn.
Without hesitation, I spoke.
"That power I could never have reached in a lifetime. That miracle. The power that brought me suffering and ecstasy. I want to understand it completely."
Only then did Pastor Park, as though he had prepared this moment in advance, lower his voice and speak as if offering a prayer.
"Our faith will not break before this ends. Before fear conquers us, we shall become fear itself. To prevent hell from seeping into this world, we march into hell. Madness against madness. Absurdity against absurdity."
After a short sigh, he stared directly at me.
"I think our organization's name should be Aphorism."
"Aphorism?"
"Why not? It was a pretty popular word for a while. It means a maxim, a proverb, a saying. I looked it up. It's religious enough and secular enough. Not bad, right?"
There were no objections.
Except from one person.
Me.
Baek Jemin.
Crossing my arms, I couldn't help but wonder.
When someone hears the name Aphorism, how are they supposed to guess what the organization actually does?
Wouldn't Supreme Archmages be better?
"Haha..."
"Even you agree with me, don't you, dumbass?"
"Baek Jemin, shut the hell up."