Chapter 7

The Civilian Expert Who Escaped Unemployment

By morning, even this quiet little town had begun to descend into chaos.

Only after confirming that no fog had appeared did Lieutenant Shin Han-gi take me elsewhere with several NCOs.

We ended up stuck in the town's growing traffic jam along the way.

While sitting in the back seat and trying to make a phone call, I glanced out the window.

The scenery was no longer peaceful.

Peeeeep—. Peeeep—.

Police officers blew their whistles desperately while running alongside reservists and civil defense volunteers.

Vehicles that had ignored traffic signals were tangled together across the roads.

Between makeshift positions built from sandbags and vehicle barricades stood a mixture of reservists in combat uniforms and civil defense personnel in civilian clothes.

With screams and shouting filling the air, it was only natural that some people would try to find their own way to survive amid the chaos.

Crash!

The sound of breaking glass rang out.

A group of looters charged toward a convenience store.

At that moment, the police finally lost their patience.

Bang!

One officer, who had been wrestling with the crowd while blowing his whistle, fired a warning shot into the air.

Panting heavily, he pointed his handgun at the would-be looters and shouted,

"Hands up! Get on your knees!"

The reservists and civil defense personnel assisting the police looked startled at first.

Then they regained their composure, shouldered their rifles, and aimed them at the looters.

The looters immediately lost their bravado.

"O-Okay, wait a second. There's no need to point guns at us..."

"Shut up. Drop everything you're carrying and get on the ground!"

The civilians who had been murmuring among themselves seemed to realize that this was not the time to argue about excessive force.

Instead, they simply backed away.

Breathing heavily, the police officer surveyed the area.

Then, with the assistance of the reservists and civil defense personnel, he forced the looters onto the ground and handcuffed them one by one.

Click.

Click.

The sound of handcuffs echoed through the town's strange silence.

That was when my call connected.

"Dad."

[It's your mother. I answered instead. So something happened over there in Gyeonggi Province? You're okay, right?]

I looked out the window.

People were gathering in groups, whispering among themselves while hiding their faces.

They constantly glanced toward the police, reservists, and civil defense personnel.

But not everyone was acting that way.

Some people were helping identify and isolate suspicious individuals whose unusual appearance and behavior stood out.

"Hey! Why are you wearing a mask?"

"And why are you carrying a club?"

"Aren't those guys looters too?!"

For now, things were still manageable.

People were still trying to maintain order.

Feeling slightly relieved, I answered.

"Yeah. I'm okay."

[Okay? Of course you're not okay! Even in our neighborhood all the young men are wearing uniforms now. I told you to come down here ages ago, didn't I? You quit your job and still insisted on staying up there in Gyeonggi Province...]

"Mom..."

[When you started living alone, your place was a disaster. You never cleaned your kimchi containers, never did the dishes properly. Then you told me not to visit. If I'd known something like this would happen...]

Her nagging drilled into my ears like thorns.

Still, I knew it came from worry.

All I could do was nod and answer,

"Yes."

"Yes, Mom."

Only after being thoroughly scolded did my father finally take the phone.

[Je-min.]

"Yes."

[You're alright then.]

"Yes."

[It's chaos here too. They're rounding up all the young people, and military police are everywhere. So even if you came home, there'd be nowhere to hide you.]

His voice was calm.

[Don't run away. Do your duty. Protect the country.]

"Yes..."

[How's your assignment going?]

"I'm on break right now. That's why I called."

[You've got it rough.]

After a brief silence, he spoke again.

[You know... a person doesn't always get to live somewhere they like.]

I thought the conversation would end there.

Instead, my father remained silent, breathing softly into the phone.

Only then did I notice a faint tremor in his voice.

[Are they feeding you properly?]

"Yeah. I asked for Spam."

"And they said they'd give me luncheon meat."

[Luncheon meat? They're feeding you that well? Your mother doesn't even give me that anymore.]

"They're looking after your health."

[If I can't drink, can't smoke, and can't grill meat, what's the point of living?]

For ten seconds or so, all I heard was his breathing.

Then his voice grew thick.

[Don't come home.]

My chest tightened.

[Don't come.]

[Stay there like an idiot and protect the country.]

[Even if everyone else runs away, you stay there like a fool and do your job.]

"Dad..."

Outside the vehicle, I could see people arguing with soldiers.

Roadblocks were being erected.

Sandbags were being stacked in haste.

As I stared blankly at the scene, I felt someone watching me.

Lieutenant Shin Han-gi was looking at me through the rearview mirror.

He wore a warm smile.

"You're a good son."

[That's enough. I'm hanging up. Do your duty well.]

[Call again when you get the chance.]

The call disconnected.

I stared at the dark phone screen for a while, feeling a strange heaviness in my chest.

Around then, the traffic finally began moving again.

Military personnel had started properly enforcing roadblocks, crushing civilian protests through sheer authority.

"People only act like this because of the situation."

Lieutenant Shin didn't elaborate further.

Instead, he focused on his responsibilities as the vehicle commander.

"Driver. Slow down whenever you see soldiers controlling traffic. I just got a message—Gyeonggi Province is beginning full-scale inspections."

"Yes, sir."

While listening to their conversation, I carefully touched the Special Lecture on Magic booklet hidden inside my jacket.

Then I raised my phone and checked the group chat and the time.

The Unemployed Civilian Expert Escapes Unemployment

January 7th, 9:18 a.m.

Everyone was losing their minds.

Rumors mixed with tiny fragments of truth, producing an endless stream of bizarre misinformation.

The biggest problem was that none of it could be dismissed as complete nonsense.

Still, there was one common sentiment.

[Je-min, are you alive???]

[Hyung, avoid night watch duty at all costs. They're saying they'll replace it with CCTV over here, but everyone's freaking out because if the fog shows up before the weather forecast predicts it, we're screwed.]

Urgent messages flooded in from friends I usually hung out with on Discord.

Apparently they'd managed to avoid being assigned night watch duty.

Online communities weren't much different.

Most posts were variations of:

Holy shit, what the fuck is happening?

People talked about hearing horrifying screams during the night but being too terrified to look outside.

Others claimed Seoul was already finished.

The panic was widespread.

Not everyone was simply panicking, though.

Rumors were spreading that the government was gathering certain individuals to form a new military unit—or perhaps an entirely new organization.

Knowing what that organization actually was, I couldn't help licking my dry lips.

"Fuck..."

The curse slipped out before I realized it.

I caught Lieutenant Shin Han-gi glancing at me through the rearview mirror.

But his reaction was understandable.

After all, I knew exactly what kind of organization the government was creating.

The contents of the administrative documents and contracts Lieutenant Shin had shown me remained fresh in my mind.

There was.

An official government term for magic.

Localized Invasive Structural Alteration.

Abbreviated as:

LISA.

And the name of the new organization was:

The Civilian Advisory Group for Localized Invasive Structural Alterations.

In other words—

The government was gathering mages and forming an independent organization specifically designed to combat this unprecedented crisis.

At first glance it sounded similar to the Hunters from fantasy novels—people awakened to mana or system powers.

But the reality was different.

Hunters were basically freelancers.

Independent contractors whose income varied wildly depending on talent, luck, growth, and opportunities.

So what was I?

Officially speaking, I had become a:

Civilian LISA Operations Specialist.

I was no longer a reservist.

I was now a civilian contractor working with the military.

The moment I signed that contract, I ceased being bound by military discipline and absolute chains of command.

Instead, I became a civilian expert obligated to fulfill specific contractual requirements.

Of course, my status as a reservist capable of emergency mobilization hadn't disappeared.

Which basically meant this:

If Baek Je-min died, military statistics wouldn't record the death of a soldier.

They would record the disappearance of a civilian during a period of unavoidable social unrest.

In exchange, I received military support.

Firearms.

Ammunition.

Basic combat rations.

And because I was technically a civilian, I possessed considerable autonomy whenever emergency mobilization wasn't in effect.

Provided I fulfilled the required obligations.

1. Share information regarding magic with the military.

2. Respect the military chain of command and obey local commanders.

3. Participate in at least one reconnaissance mission during each designated operational period (defined as two to four weeks depending on circumstances).

There was a reason Lieutenant Shin was grinning so happily from the passenger seat.

Of course, I hadn't signed because I was overwhelmed by patriotism and selfless devotion to the nation.

I had my own calculations.

First.

What would they do if I didn't share everything?

Even a single awakened spell was an absurdly powerful asset.

Second.

Having actually faced one of those monsters, I knew commanders who couldn't use magic were practically useless against them.

Third.

The reconnaissance clause was actually beneficial.

Instead of exploring the fog alone, I'd be able to investigate it alongside relatively trustworthy companions.

The clauses were clearly intended as safety measures.

Yet after surviving only a single encounter, I could already see the holes in them.

Huge holes.

That realization gave me confidence.

The military still didn't fully understand the threat.

The soldiers and field commanders trapped in Seoul were probably screaming themselves hoarse trying to explain what was happening.

They'd managed to establish rules of engagement.

But beyond that?

The military was still underestimating the threat.

And they were underestimating magic too.

People like me who had awakened magic were undoubtedly withholding information.

That might even explain why the military was trying so hard to appear cooperative instead of interrogating us relentlessly.

Slowly, I opened the Special Lecture on Magic booklet.

The first page.

The section I had nicknamed Chilmo.

The spell that had aligned itself within the fog had reverted to its crooked, distorted symbols.

Now I understood why interpretations differed so greatly.

One person saw restoration.

Another saw frustration.

Another saw severance.

Another saw a spear tip.

Another saw a forest.

And I...

I saw footprints.

The symbol was deeply symbolic.

Deeply twisted.

Yet astonishingly intuitive.

It was closer to a pictographic language than an alphabet.

The triangle represented humanity's pitiful vision.

The square represented what humanity wished to see.

What this spell revealed was time.

Someone who viewed the past through it called it Restoration.

Someone observing interactions between nearby objects interpreted it as Severance or Spear Tip.

Someone glimpsing the future saw Forest or Despair.

Yet there was one essential requirement for truly awakening the spell.

Fog.

Ironically, only within that damned fog could the spell reveal its true form and guide someone toward enlightenment.

The magic hidden within those crude symbols aligned itself only when fog contaminated sunlight and the laws of the world.

Once the fog retreated, the spell concealed itself once more inside meaningless scribbles.

That was the reason I had earned the absurdly long title of:

Civilian LISA Operations Specialist.

***

By the time we arrived at the temporary headquarters established inside Suwon City Hall, the place was already packed.

Roadblocks had been set up all the way from Suwon Station.

People of every imaginable background stepped from vehicles and headed toward city hall under military escort.

There were Catholic priests in cassocks.

Protestant pastors clutching Bibles and muttering prayers.

Buddhist monks in robes.

Shamans carrying talismans.

There were even people who appeared to be from the Middle East.

Among them were several individuals wearing military uniforms, looking just as uneasy as I felt.

That was when Lieutenant Shin walked over and patted my shoulder.

"Don't be too nervous, Mr. Baek."

"It's not that."

I shook my head.

"I'm just surprised."

"There's nothing surprising about it."

He gestured toward the crowd.

"We brought in everyone believed capable of performing Localized Invasive Structural Alterations."

"The goal is to filter out the frauds, let the remaining people exchange information, compare theories, and build a proper body of knowledge using what the military has already gathered."

He smiled reassuringly.

"The reconnaissance missions come later, so don't worry about that."

Then he returned to the vehicle and handed the driver a pack of cigarettes.

"Park the vehicle and have a smoke."

"Thank you, sir!"

The driver snapped into a stiff salute.

Lieutenant Shin returned a friendly smile before walking back toward me.

"Let's go, Mr. Baek."

Then his grin widened.

"Once everything's finalized, I'll start calling you Specialist."