Chapter 56

I Can Hear Your Voice

Only after catching our breath were we finally able to inspect the inside of the church.

In the middle of our frantic sprint, I hadn't noticed it before, but this church was far larger—and wealthier—than we'd expected.

And because Seoul had been shrouded in fog for so long, several crosses had been erected outside the building so people wouldn't lose their way in the dense mist.

The cross we'd glimpsed while running had served exactly that purpose.

When I checked outside once more, I saw countless corpses scattered around the cross standing below the church steps.

I had no desire to start enjoying the smell of Amalgam corpses when I knew I'd be smelling plenty more in the future, so I immediately shut the door again.

Now that I looked around properly, the room we'd occupied wasn't even the sanctuary.

It was a multipurpose room.

Aside from the oversized cross hanging on the wall, the interior felt surprisingly ordinary and mundane.

Then again, the church's exterior was covered in smooth glass panels.

The fog had hidden it from view.

I found myself idly wondering if the building had sparkled brilliantly under direct sunlight.

After finishing my inspection and returning inside, I found Hamza and Lee Sejun already waiting.

Without a word, they began hauling benches across the room.

"Heave-ho. Heave-ho."

"Let's barricade the door and get some rest!"

Only after wedging the benches firmly against the entrance did we finally let out sighs of relief.

I had no idea how far we'd run from Olympic Park.

Sweat soaked my clothes.

The damp fog prevented anything from drying.

At least the room with the cross was relatively free of mist, making it easier to breathe.

It was finally time to remove the gas mask.

I yanked it off, grabbed it in my left hand, dropped my backpack, and collapsed onto the floor.

Everyone looked equally exhausted.

The Pastor knelt before the cross, hands clasped in prayer.

Shin Nain knelt behind him, murmuring responses.

The arrangement was simple.

The Pastor would say something.

Shin Nain would answer with an amen.

"Lord, we thank You for guiding us safely to Your house. Lord, Lord, have mercy upon us."

"Christ, Christ, have mercy upon us."

Hamza quietly slipped into a corner.

After rummaging through his backpack, he produced a compass.

Apparently the cardinal directions still worked despite Seoul's sea of fog.

After determining his bearings, he turned and began praying.

"Allahu Akbar. Ashhadu an la ilaha illallah..."

I, Baek Jemin, held no prejudice toward religion.

But the moment I heard the first line of Hamza's prayer, I instinctively flinched.

Fortunately, Hamza lacked the courage required to strap explosives to himself.

That realization allowed me to relax.

I knew it was an unfair stereotype.

But people who spent their days happily wandering through hordes of monsters deserved a little understanding too.

I discreetly scooted my rear end farther away from him.

***

Then I dug through my backpack and retrieved a precious packet of hardtack.

My right palm still stung from the earlier wound.

But hunger came first.

Rip.

The moment I tore open the package and popped one piece into my mouth, life suddenly felt worth living again.

Only amateurs crunched hardtack immediately.

I placed it on my tongue and slowly dissolved it with saliva.

Pro tip.

If you let hardtack melt, it becomes surprisingly sweet.

You don't even need the sugar candies.

Slurp. Slurp. Slurp...

After spending a while sucking on hardtack like a piece of candy, I felt someone staring at me.

I turned.

Lee Sejun had stopped opening his own ration and was looking at me with pure disgust.

"What?"

"Mr. Jemin, who the hell sucks on hardtack?"

"That's how you're supposed to eat it. Makes it last longer. It's a life hack. Instead of crunching through yours, try sucking on them one at a time. You'll stay full longer."

"That's disgusting. You sound like such an old man."

"Mr. Sejun. I look younger than you."

This bastard.

His face looked older than mine, yet he still tried attacking me with age?

Though being accused of seeming old because of how I ate hardtack felt strangely nostalgic.

Then again, modern soldiers supposedly didn't eat much hardtack anymore.

Even in my day, anyone who actively chose hardtack was considered weird.

These days, hardtack wasn't even distributed often.

Which was exactly why we'd brought so much of it.

Life really was unpredictable.

After a few more pieces and a swig from my canteen, I finally felt human again.

Meanwhile, the Supreme Mages who'd recovered in their own ways gradually gathered around.

The Pastor unfolded a folding chair and sat down.

Shin Nain stood idly brushing moisture from his poncho.

Hamza distributed hand warmers.

Lee Sejun stuffed fistfuls of hardtack into his mouth.

Everyone had removed their gas masks and either held them in their hands or hung them from their arms.

***

"Baek Jemin. How's the situation outside?"

"Nothing specific. But don't you think the other side probably has an Eye Mage watching this area?"

The answer came naturally.

Everyone except Hamza carried firearms.

We'd fired so many rounds getting here that we'd never have broken through without them.

The sheer amount of firepower we'd used suggested Seoul's mages had far less access to guns.

South Korea was a country with strict gun control.

The odds of local mages possessing large stockpiles of firearms were low.

At best they'd looted a military base.

That meant they probably relied on Eye Mages for reconnaissance instead of physically investigating every disturbance themselves.

The cursed phones were likely distributed for exactly that reason.

After hearing my reasoning, the Pastor nodded thoughtfully.

"That makes sense. The real question is whether we can detect them. Baek Jemin. Shin Nain. Lee Sejun. If someone is watching us with Eye Magic, could any of you tell?"

"We can't guarantee it."

Shin Nain answered carefully.

As the weakest among us in terms of magical attainment, his caution carried weight.

Removing his headset, he laid out his thoughts methodically.

"The thicker the Lord's Vapor becomes, the lighter the burden of Sacred Formula techniques. Given how long the Blood Pools of Seoul have survived here, they'll likely surpass us in terms of Sacred Formula usage."

He paused.

"However, since they haven't pinpointed us immediately, there must be limitations. Time limits. Range limits. Magnification limits. Something preventing them from observing us indefinitely."

"Nain. Can't you hear them?"

"Seoul is extremely noisy. Distinguishing specific sounds isn't easy."

In situations where the enemy remained unidentified, even Shin Nain's detection abilities had clear limits.

His attainments were Eyes Stage 1 and Ears Stage 2.

His Eye Stage 1 only allowed him to view events from several hours in the past.

Ear Stage 1 let him hear human thoughts.

Ear Stage 2 let him hear the thoughts—or voices—of monsters.

As a detector, he was unparalleled.

His talents were so valuable that they almost made everyone overlook his countless personality flaws.

But in direct combat, something always felt slightly lacking.

While Lee Sejun projected overwhelming firepower through his physical abilities, Shin Nain excelled at silently supporting allies.

He wasn't lacking.

Not at all.

But there was always a feeling that something crucial remained missing.

***

At that moment, Hamza handed me a hand warmer.

"Mr. Jemin. Here."

"Huh? Thanks."

I turned and saw Lee Sejun already kneading one in his hands.

After distributing hand warmers to the Pastor and Shin Nain as well, Hamza offered his opinion.

"I don't think they'll immediately pursue us or try to make contact."

"Why? Seoul mages hate soldiers."

Even Kang Areum—the friendliest local mage we'd encountered—had shown little concern when hearing about soldiers murdered by the Two-Sword Witch Jung Nari.

It wouldn't be strange if most Seoul survivors hated both the military and the government.

So if they mistook us for soldiers, why wouldn't they attack?

Hamza answered from a perspective none of us had considered.

"Our Aphorisms."

"Supreme Mages."

"Fine. Supreme Mages. Try looking at yourselves objectively."

He accepted my correction immediately and continued.

"You're wearing military gear or civilian clothes covered by filthy ponchos. Gas masks. Rifles. Full combat loads. Grenades. Magic."

He pointed around the room.

"Then you kill monsters. Break through hordes. Keep advancing."

He spread his hands.

"Imagine what a Seoul survivor sees."

His imitation was surprisingly convincing.

"'Wow. Those people just punched through a monster horde.'"

"'They have guns.'"

"'They have lots of bullets.'"

"'They use magic too.'"

"'What the hell do we do?'"

"...Speaking of which."

I looked around.

"How much ammunition do we have left?"

"Eighteen hundred rounds."

We'd definitely used a lot.

Considering the ammunition we'd looted from the dead soldiers near the department store by Jangji Station, we'd burned through nearly six hundred rounds this time alone.

No wonder the barrels were scorching hot.

Since I was thinking about it anyway, I removed my magazine, cleared the chamber, and began field-stripping my rifle.

Time was precious in an environment like this.

The moment I pulled out the bolt carrier group and reached for my cleaning rod, the Pastor, Shin Nain, and Lee Sejun all followed suit and started maintaining their weapons as well.

As I threaded an oil-soaked cloth through the cleaning rod and began scrubbing carbon fouling from the barrel, I looked at Hamza.

"So you're saying the Seoul mages won't attack us immediately?"

"I think they'll watch us first. Maybe follow us. But ultimately, they hate soldiers."

"Muslim's got a point."

Pastor Park Yohan grunted as he carefully examined his K2 rifle.

He looked almost comically cautious, as though afraid the hinge might pinch his fingers.

"Mages gain more from hunting other mages. We all know that. Who knows how many survivors remain in Seoul? But there'll be factions. Politics. Power struggles."

He continued assembling his thoughts.

"If a group of outsiders suddenly appears—mages who aren't connected to local politics, mages nobody will miss if they die—then they're valuable targets. Anyone wanting to strengthen their own forces would be tempted."

He sighed.

"We're in a very dangerous position."

"Pastor, that's surprisingly cynical."

Lee Sejun swallowed a mouthful of hardtack.

"Don't pastors usually have flower gardens growing in their heads or something?"

The Pastor's face immediately twisted.

"Kid. We met that witch in the department store two days ago. If you've already forgotten, that's not faith. That's dementia."

"The problem is that he's right."

Hamza chose that exact moment to join the discussion.

While adjusting the turban hidden beneath his hood, he continued.

"We don't know what kinds of mages are coming after us. We know too little about magic. We need to exchange techniques and expand our options."

"We've got guns."

I tapped my customized AR-15.

Even disassembled, it still felt reassuring.

The difference between having guns and not having guns was enormous.

Unless magic could do something truly outrageous, firearms could overcome most limitations of the human body.

Then something unexpected happened.

"Muslim's right."

"...Pastor?"

Pastor Park stroked his blue-black beard thoughtfully.

He was supporting Hamza's argument.

A Protestant pastor siding with a Muslim?

The sheer impossibility of the situation left me blinking.

The Pastor adjusted his glasses and clicked his tongue.

"This isn't a religious debate. Why are you making that face just because I agreed with him?"

"Then what's your reasoning?"

"Because they'll be cautious of guns too."

The Pastor resumed reassembling his rifle.

"Magic might produce all sorts of bizarre tricks. Guns, on the other hand, are simple. Direct. Extremely powerful."

He inserted the bolt.

"Everyone understands how dangerous they are."

Like a lecturer, he continued.

"That witch in the department store used concrete as a shield. Different branches of magic or not, people will develop countermeasures against firearms. Soldiers and police existed before all this. Some survivors must've acquired guns too."

The rifle clicked into place.

"Eye Mages or Ear Mages might detect hostile intent before shots are fired. Others could lure monsters in and force us to waste ammunition."

"Lure..."

At that word, Shin Nain's eyes narrowed.

He'd noticed something.

The Pastor noticed too.

A faint smile appeared on his face.

Since Shin Nain had already heard the thought, there was no point hiding it.

"We probably saw something similar at the First Containment Line."

The Pastor leaned back.

"The reason monster attacks remained so evenly distributed might've been the work of Seoul mages. If the military keeps getting pressured from every direction, their attention stays divided."

He folded his arms.

"Because Seoul mages don't want to leave alongside the monsters. They want to slip out unnoticed."

"What about forests and mountains?" Lee Sejun asked. "Even if they secure major roads and cities, how do they watch everything?"

"Drones."

The answer came immediately.

Lee Sejun yawned.

"Speaking of drones, I thought Drone Command was getting shut down."

He snorted.

"They sure work hard protecting generals' careers. Maybe they should've spent that effort on retaining personnel."

"Now that you mention it..."

I looked over.

"Weren't they desperate for career NCOs recently? Why didn't you make the cut?"

The moment I asked, Shin Nain shot me a look filled with pity.

Oh no.

I instantly regretted it.

"Actually, don't answer that."

"Huh? It's not really a big deal..."

"Then definitely don't answer."

I was over Ninety percent certain he'd failed his career review because he'd written something like:

"I want to become a TS magical girl."

On a psychological evaluation.

From that moment on, I swore never again to become curious about Sergeant Lee Sejun, age twenty-four.

Not for his sake.

For mine.

***

"Anyway."

I shoved the hand warmer into my cooling chest.

Then, instead of another hand warmer, I pulled out the Magic Lecture Booklet.

"So relying entirely on guns means getting killed by enemies who already expect us to rely on guns."

If guns weren't enough, then obviously we needed to learn.

Shin Nain immediately noticed my intentions.

After finishing his rifle maintenance and slinging the weapon over his shoulder, he sat cross-legged on the floor.

"May Alteration Sacred Formula guide my path."

Lee Sejun wiped gun oil from his hands onto his poncho.

"Let's work hard for our dreams."

"What about you two?"

"I'm good."

The Pastor still remained skeptical about learning Alteration Magic.

That didn't mean he spent all his time staring at the Bible, however.

He accepted a map from Hamza and spread it across a bench.

"I'll think about whether we should take side streets or major roads. You three do whatever you want."

Then he pointed at Hamza.

"Muslim. You just keep praying. At this point, learning Alteration Magic would only weaken your Doctrinal Magic."

His expression grew serious.

"And then we'd all die. Got it?"

"I want to learn Heart Magic."

Hamza looked genuinely disappointed.

"I want to run away faster."

"Exactly why you shouldn't learn it. If you did, you'd abandon us."

I couldn't help admiring the Pastor's foresight.

At the same time, I wasn't surprised.

You bastard, Hamza. I knew it.

You'll stay a Doctrinal Mage forever.

April 18, 2028 — 10:12 PM

Safely protected behind barricades in the multipurpose room, we spent the evening resting and studying magic.

There was some dry-heaving and vomiting along the way.

But in the end, everyone achieved something meaningful.

1

"So it's like talking to them in real time?"

"No."

Shin Nain shook his head.

"It's their final words."

"The thoughts they had while dying..."

Shin Nain had reached Ear Stage 3.

Based on his description:

[Hearing the Last Words of the Dead]

Thanks to all the endless lectures I'd forced upon everyone—Venerable Cheonghwi's numerological theories, the Pastor's mystical discussions, Anderson Makenford's absurdly long occult lessons—both Shin Nain and Lee Sejun had advanced.

Granted, their eyes constantly screamed:

"This is boring."

"This is horrible."

But still.

I briefly considered reviewing all that knowledge myself.

Then I remembered how much there was and decided not to.

The results achieved by the Alteration Trio were as follows:

"Ear Stage 3..."

"What? What does it do?"

"They sound..."

Shin Nain hesitated.

"...dead."

"Unlike living voices, they echo from far away."

"There is no vitality in them."

For once, the normally precise Shin Nain struggled to explain himself.

Eventually he put his headset back on.

Turned up the volume.

And started loudly singing a children's hymn.

"March forth, the Lord's army~!"

"Cry out! Courageous soldiers~!"

Apparently that helped.

I ignored him and turned away.

Only to discover Lee Sejun having his own meltdown.

"Hand Magic..."

His eyes sparkled.

"Wow."

"Am I ridiculously strong now?"

Lee Sejun had successfully learned:

Hand Branch Stage 1 — [Blood of the Right Hand].

Because I'd shared everything I'd learned while fighting through the city, he immediately understood how absurdly powerful the technique was.

Knowledge he never would've reached through his natural intelligence alone.

His excitement became uncontrollable.

He was already throwing mock punches through the air.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

His shoulders bounced enthusiastically.

At first glance, it was an inspiring sight.

A young man celebrating his growth.

Unfortunately...

My newly awakened magic had a side effect.

A terrible one.

If I lost concentration, random thoughts from nearby people leaked into my head.

And right then I heard Lee Sejun thinking:

"Wow. If I just bleed from my right hand and start throwing punches, I can beat the shit out of everybody."

"This is totally magical-girl stuff."

"Hey, asshole."

I pointed at him.

"What's that extra comment?"

"Huh?"

"What extra comment?"

"Never mind."

"Mr. Jemin is acting weird."

"Is he already jealous of my youth and ambitious dreams?"

I covered my face with my palm.

And sighed.

Ear Branch Stage 1 — Hearing Sounds.

My side effect was listening to thoughts I absolutely did not want to hear.

Unlike Shin Nain's version, my Ear Magic functioned slightly differently.

When focused, I didn't hear thoughts directly.

I heard intentions.

Affection.

Hostility.

People without ill will toward me sounded like calm water.

People who disliked me sounded like flowing streams.

And because of that...

I knew exactly who disliked me the most.

Lee Sejun.

I could hear the stream flowing.

When I stopped using the magic, I finally understood why.

"TS is supposed to be done by the person who wants it most..."

"Mr. Jemin is way too dangerous as competition."

I sighed internally.

Shin Nain...

You've been living with this the entire time?

For today.

For this one day.

I decided to temporarily forget the disgraceful title I'd always given him.

Shin Nain was no longer "that fanatic bastard."

At least not today.