Chapter 39
Best of the Best
Seoul.
A land covered by a colossal cloud of fog hundreds of meters thick.
The operation to reclaim it was said to proceed in two major phases.
While countless reconnaissance drones and fighter aircraft entered Seoul's skies to gather intelligence and conduct bombing runs, special forces units spearheaded the advance.
Their primary objective was to secure strongholds using the subway network rather than the surface, where troops were vulnerable to artillery exposure and attacks from unidentified species.
Once the special forces successfully reconnoitered and opened a route, technicians—whether volunteers or conscripts—would move in, inspect infrastructure, and check supplies step by step.
Regular soldiers would then be deployed to maintain and secure those strongholds.
That was the first phase.
The civilian operators—mages willing to cooperate with the military—were assigned to the second phase.
Using routes already secured by special forces and the military, they would search the surrounding areas and establish contact with survivor groups.
That meant we Supreme Mages would also enter Seoul through the subway lines.
And our first entry point was none other than Bokjeong Station.
The very station where we had encountered the Teratoma.
“Disembark!”
At the booming command of the officer riding in the lead vehicle, soldiers poured out of the other trucks.
Searchlights were unloaded.
Portable generators were dragged down with strained grunts.
The sight stirred old memories.
Yeah.
Have fun suffering.
We Supreme Mages prepared to disembark as well.
The fog had already grown so thick that seeing even a few feet ahead was impossible.
It rolled and surged like ocean waves.
The moment I stepped into it, clammy moisture wrapped around me.
Thud.
As soon as I got off the truck, I wiped the condensation from my gas mask lenses.
After unslinging my rifle and shaking the dew from the barrel, I finally looked around.
If there even was a “surrounding area.”
Without the headlights of the armored vehicles and trucks, I probably wouldn't have known whether any light existed at all.
The gray fog was so dense that even soldiers wearing fluorescent identification bands groped their way around.
The rest of the Supreme Mages climbed down shortly afterward.
“Ah, what a life. Never thought I'd spend my old age getting hauled around in the back of trucks without even a cushion.”
As Pastor Park Yohan joked, a nameless captain emerged through the fog.
Like everyone else, he wore a gas mask and military cap.
His face was impossible to identify.
Even his eyes were obscured by mist and moisture.
Only his voice could be heard.
And that voice, which should have sounded firm, trembled like a eunuch's.
“Ah... uh... Operators, you'll proceed to Bokjeong Station's concourse first. The station commander will brief you further. We'll verify surface conditions here before withdrawing.”
“Understood. Thanks for your work.”
Some people volunteered for this.
That man probably hadn't.
Leaving behind the blind groping of soldiers and officers, we Supreme Mages headed toward the stairs leading into Bokjeong Station.
Though heavy fog poured down the entrance, the underground area beyond was surprisingly clear.
Our eyes naturally turned toward Hamza.
“No problem. We can go.”
Though lacking combat ability, Hamza had volunteered as our porter.
Granted, even a former laborer hardened by years of physical work had limits, so he mostly carried food supplies—chocolate, hardtack, water, and the like.
Still, despite the weight, he showed no signs of strain.
Instead, he demonstrated his doctrinal magic:
[Angel's Intuition].
Only after Hamza gave the all-clear did we descend underground.
“Hoo...”
The real beast of burden was Lee Sejun.
As the owner of heart-type magic, he'd stuffed two ammunition cans into his pack and still showed no signs of exhaustion.
The weight had to be at least equivalent to a sack of rice, yet he was yawning.
The sigh he let out now wasn't from fatigue.
It was from fear.
As we slowly descended and surveyed the station, the extent of the damage became clear.
Floor tiles had shattered.
Walls were cracked.
The ceiling had partially collapsed.
But considering the bombardment, it wasn't in terrible condition.
We carefully stepped over debris and moved toward the source of light.
That was when we found signs of human activity.
A thick, neatly laid cable stretched across a section that should have been buried beneath concrete dust.
Seeing a properly laid cable in a ruined subway station brought back memories.
Stormy nights.
Signal operators sprinting through rain ponchos because disaster would strike if a cable snapped.
Even the memory of getting beaten after teasing them for having an easy job resurfaced.
“We just follow this. Let's go.”
“... Seoul isn't that impressive after all.”
Lee Sejun seemed to have developed some baseless confidence.
Honestly, I felt something similar.
When we first saw the Teratoma, I'd imagined hell itself.
Now it felt more like a stroll.
Of course, if we'd been the first advance team, I would've been terrified.
But special forces had already secured the route.
All we had to do was follow paths the military had cleared.
What was there to fear?
Shin Nain had become so relaxed that he was humming a hymn.
“Nothing compares~ to Jesus Christ our Lord~.”
“Maybe singing isn't a good idea, Nain.”
“Nothing in~ this world~.”
Pastor Park's warning accomplished nothing.
Shin Nain was completely absorbed in singing hymns through a gas mask while wearing a headset.
Naturally, the tension weighing on our shoulders began to fade.
No monsters.
Hamza said it was safe.
Lee Sejun was talking nonsense.
Shin Nain was singing.
How could anyone stay afraid?
Following the cable, we reached the staircase leading down to the platform.
Only then did something feel wrong.
I tightened my grip on my rifle and decided to chamber a round.
Each of us carried ten magazines.
Holding back ammunition was stupid.
Nothing was more foolish than risking your life just to save bullets.
Clack.
The round locked into place.
I raised my rifle and widened my eyes.
Eye Alteration Stage One.
Ten-second future sight.
Although Bokjeong Station itself contained relatively little fog, Seoul's dense mist seemed to reduce the backlash.
The pain was minimal.
Just the fatigue of losing a little sleep.
In that state, I surveyed the surroundings.
The generator connected to the cable.
Searchlights illuminating the stairs.
Weapons lying around haphazardly.
Crates packed with supplies.
Helmets abandoned on the floor as though someone had briefly removed them.
Naturally, I called Hamza.
“Hamza.”
“No. No. It's really safe.”
“How about you, Nain?”
Since Hamza's radar seemed faulty, I turned to our monster detector instead.
But Shin Nain's answer wasn't encouraging.
After looking around, he adjusted his rifle and replied:
“I don't hear anything.”
“Anything?”
“Yes. The strange sounds monsters make. Babies crying because they want to live. The voices people normally carry inside their hearts... nothing.”
He paused.
“There are no people here. No monsters either.”
“Stay alert. We don't know what's here.”
Pastor Park raised his rifle as well.
Lee Sejun followed suit and began scanning the area.
Yet the station remained eerily empty.
There were signs people had once been here.
Only silence remained.
Ten seconds.
Thirty seconds.
One minute.
Three minutes.
Five.
Eventually, Lee Sejun swallowed nervously and muttered:
“... Did everyone go to the bathroom?”
Even he knew how ridiculous it sounded.
Nobody replied.
Pastor Park lowered his rifle first and turned to us.
His eyes behind the gas mask were resolute.
“We go back up and report this to the soldiers.”
Everyone agreed.
The only difference now was that none of us felt relaxed anymore.
Shin Nain maintained a firing stance behind the pastor.
Lee Sejun tightened his backpack straps and tucked his rifle beneath his arm.
Hamza nervously examined the ridiculously huge revolver and carefully rested his thumb on the safety.
Clack. Clack.
Despite our combat boots, we climbed the stairs cautiously enough that our footsteps echoed.
That was the problem.
As we retraced our route toward the surface, only our footsteps echoed.
Nothing else.
When we emerged above ground, we were greeted by an unnatural silence.
Rrrrrrrrr—
The generators still roared.
Searchlights still stood upright, piercing the fog.
Vehicle headlights still shone.
The five of us silently approached the convoy.
Knock knock.
Pastor Park tapped on a truck door and peeked through the window.
Then he turned back and shook his head.
“Nobody.”
“Poop Prophet. What about your past sight?”
“Nothing's changed. Not even compared to an hour ago.”
“Let's stop standing around and search.”
Everyone silently agreed.
Maintaining formation, the five of us searched every truck and armored vehicle.
The unloaded supplies remained untouched.
The generators still ran.
The engines were still on.
Only the people were gone.
For a moment I wondered if they'd fled.
Then I looked at the idling vehicles and dismissed the thought.
If you were running, you'd take a truck.
How far could you get on foot in this fog?
At least one person would've driven away.
I considered looking for a radio.
Hamza immediately panicked and stopped me.
“No.”
“We shouldn't contact anyone?”
“Yes.”
The firmness of his short answer told us everything.
Something tracked communications.
Hamza's magic was frustrating.
It never gave answers unless you asked exactly the right question.
But it did seem capable of steering us away from fatal mistakes.
After a brief moment of silence for the soldiers and officers who had apparently died horribly, I made a decision.
“Let's head back down. Grab only what we need.”
“Hey, what if they come back...?”
Even as he objected, the pastor's face had turned pale.
Still, his point wasn't entirely unreasonable.
Shin Nain glanced between us and shrugged.
“Mr. Jemin is assuming that if nothing goes missing, the next reconnaissance team will immediately realize how serious the situation is. Besides, we can't carry much more anyway.”
He looked at the pastor.
“Let's just go.”
“Baek Jemin... your brain works in the weirdest ways.”
“Tsk.”
Baek Jemin, a man approaching thirty.
Still soft-hearted enough to be deeply wounded by even the smallest comment, silently grinding his teeth while waiting for an opportunity to take petty revenge.
Still, none of us could shake the uneasy feeling.
Leaving unanswered questions behind was exactly how people got wiped out.
According to Hamza, trying to make contact over the radio was dangerous.
And every soldier who should have been underground or on the surface had vanished without a trace.
With our limited imaginations, there were only two possibilities.
An unidentified species.
Or a hostile mage.
Then Shin Nain had an idea.
“Back when we encountered the Teratoma, didn't people in the convoy suddenly disappear too? Maybe it's something similar.”
“Oh, Nain.”
“Could be another sorcerer's work, but considering all of us faithful warriors of the Lord are perfectly fine, I'd guess it's a monster targeting ordinary soldiers with weak faith. It probably lured them away.”
Shin Nain suspected a mental-attack type monster.
Honestly, it sounded convincing.
I found myself nodding.
The others seemed convinced too, letting out impressed noises and pretending to clap.
Naturally, being Supreme Mages, we were careful not to actually make any noise.
“Problem solved!”
“Wow. Nice and simple.”
“That's a relief. Glad it's nothing serious.”
“If it's just a monster, then whatever.”
At last, we smiled brightly.
“Alright then. Back to Seoul.”
The fact that an unknown attack had apparently wiped out an entire military detachment wasn't enough to make the Supreme Mages turn back.
***
After descending onto the platform, we ate a quick meal of hardtack and water before climbing down onto the subway tracks one by one.
The cold immediately seeped into my bones.
Lee Sejun shivered dramatically.
“Seoul really has eight subway lines? Doesn't the ground collapse from all this digging?”
“It does. That's happened before.”
“Oh.”
Shin Nain's response instantly silenced him.
Once Hamza climbed down as well, we decided to follow Pastor Park's theory.
“If survivors are still around, they're probably near places where supplies are easy to obtain. They'll be hiding in underground shelters or concrete structures capable of withstanding bombardment and scavenging nearby.”
Looking at the map on his phone, the pastor pointed toward Jangji Station.
“Let's stick to the outer subway lines and avoid central and northern Seoul. The fog supposedly started around Bukhansan. Survivors are probably farther away from there.”
“Ooooo.”
“Baek Jemin. What's with that reaction?”
“We maintain a healthy organizational culture of mutual admiration.”
Even rotten fish still had value.
For all his faults—including calling the Pope the Antichrist because of money—Pastor Park really was an intellectual.
With our destination decided, there was no reason to hesitate.
I took point as the eye-type mage.
Shin Nain, the ear-type mage, covered the rear.
The pastor and Hamza occupied the center.
Lee Sejun served as porter, grenadier, rifleman, and bodyguard all at once.
“Wow. Listen to that echo.”
“It's underground. That's normal.”
“Nain, have you tried yelling 'yahoo'? Does it echo back?”
“Sejun, please...”
As I walked forward, yawning lazily beneath my poncho while using my tactical flashlight, Hamza suddenly poked me in the back repeatedly.
“What?”
“Danger.”
I shot Shin Nain an annoyed look.
Immediately, he stopped bickering with Lee Sejun and became useful again.
Adjusting his rifle, he spoke.
“Sound of fingernails scraping a chalkboard. Irregular moaning.”
“Stop being poetic. Name it.”
“Spines and faces.”
Click.
Tightening my grip on my rifle, I stared beyond the tracks where Hamza pointed.
Then I removed my gas mask and hung it on my arm.
I stuck out my tongue.
“Bleeeh.”
It probably looked ridiculous.
But it was necessary.
I didn't want blood splattering inside my mask or all over my clothes.
Eye Alteration Stage One.
Tongue Alteration Stage One.
I quickly assembled a targeting phrase.
Target. Monster. One minute. Route.
Immediately, the thin layer of fog covering the tracks began swirling violently.
It rushed toward the walls and left vivid markings.
Red footprints appeared across the walls and ceiling.
Hundreds of them.
Heading directly toward us.
A few days ago, I might have panicked.
Hamza and the pastor were definitely saying something.
But the three members of our alteration squad remained calm.
The taste buds on my tongue split apart.
Cracks spread through it.
Bright-red blood poured out.
Naturally, it hurt like hell.
Painful enough to replace my left-hand staff.
Enough pain to prepare—
Eye Alteration Stage Two.
Clack-clack-clack-clack—
The sound of bones scraping against the ceiling echoed through the tunnel.
Haaahk... haaahk...
Heavy breathing emerged from mouths crushed beneath the weight of layered faces.
The creatures lurking in darkness, waiting for living prey, were charging toward us.
Out of Seoul's ten million residents, more than nine million would probably qualify for citizenship in that thing.
The station lights became obscured by their shadows.
Within the beam of my flashlight, mashed-together human faces rolled countless eyes in our direction.
The monster called an Amalgam seemed to be smiling at me.
Its mouth wasn't moving.
The eyes were.
All of them.
Rolling toward me simultaneously.
Then a drop of blood formed on my tongue.
The pain sharpened.
And pain made my visions longer.
My eyes ached.
My eyelids wanted to close.
The duration was short—I blinked too often by nature.
But it was enough.
Enough for Lee Sejun to pull a grenade from his belt and remove the pin.
BOOM!
Dust and fragments exploded outward.
My eyes closed.
Blink.
I retracted my tongue and swallowed the blood.
“Headshots.”
Stage Two had ended.
Stage One remained.
I could see exactly where to shoot.
Helpful targeting points were painted directly onto my vision.
No matter how the Predatory Spines twisted or leaped around, aiming markers adjusted in real time.
My sights moved faster than the monsters themselves.
Then every Predatory Spine turned toward me.
Without hesitation, I pulled the trigger.
Bang-bang-bang! Bang!
I wasn't alone.
Lee Sejun and Shin Nain fired alongside me while yelling nonsense.
Gunpowder filled the air.
Spent casings bounced off the rails.
The monsters' heads burst apart.
Bones scattered like pesticide-struck flies.
The Amalgams reacted immediately.
“Mom! Mom!”
“We just need to get out! We just need to—”
At that moment, I noticed Lee Sejun's hands tremble.
His gunfire briefly stopped.
Meanwhile Shin Nain grew even louder.
“Amen! Amen! Lord! Receive these abominations! Cast them into hellfire!”
Ting. Ting.
Casings rolled endlessly across the ground.
Click-click.
Shin Nain had emptied an entire magazine.
The Amalgams seized the opportunity.
Laughing—or making something close to laughter—they rushed forward.
I was just deciding how hard I needed to bite my tongue this time.
Then—
Bang! Bang-bang!
Another rifle opened fire.
Shin Nain calmly reloaded.
The shooter was Lee Sejun.
He had somehow moved up beside me.
His face was completely calm.
One shot.
One head.
He deliberately shot a monster's leg, knocking it over.
Then shot another in the knee as it tried to climb over.
Then finished both with headshots.
Again and again.
Since I suddenly had plenty of time, I swapped magazines myself.
Click.
“Jemin. The spines?”
“All dead.”
Lee Sejun stopped firing.
I continued swallowing blood while checking future sight without assistance from my tongue magic.
Shin Nain appeared to be using his hearing magic in a similar way.
Together, we advanced and aimed at any remaining survivors.
Every trigger pull released disgusting bodily fluids.
The nightmare creatures died helplessly.
One after another.
Eventually, we regrouped.
Lee Sejun was blowing on his overheated barrel.
“Sejun, did you deliberately hold your fire earlier?”
“Huh? Oh. Yeah. If we all reloaded at once, they'd rush us.”
So it wasn't because he heard the monsters screaming.
He'd been thinking about staggered reloads.
Remarkable growth.
I smiled proudly at his development.
“Forty monsters total between the spines and the Amalgams. One magazine each isn't bad efficiency, right?”
“Naturally, if you smeared blood from your right hand onto the bullets, we'd probably only need half a magazine.”
“Hey. Not the right hand.”
Shin Nain had no sense of ethics.
How dare he suggest something like that about my beloved?
***
It was then that we noticed the pastor and Hamza.
Both were staring at us.
Then at the pile of monster corpses.
Then back at us.
“Y-you guys... what are you?”
“Uwaaaah.”
The three of us blinked and looked at each other.
Lee Sejun awkwardly adjusted his hood.
“Maybe they're upset we used too much ammunition...”
Shin Nain smiled while adjusting his sling.
“Pastor, shouldn't true believers hate Satan rather than fear him?”
Finally, I put my gas mask back on.
“And if you freak out over every trash mob, you'll never survive in Seoul.”
It had been worth drinking less water.
I hadn't wanted to wet myself.
And now...
Now I got to look cool.
For the first time, something resembling hope appeared on the pastor's face.
“So Mr. Anderson wasn't bluffing after all. You really are Supreme Mages?”
“...He's not actually coming all the way to Seoul, is he?”