Chapter 93

Real Estate That Looks 100 Years Ahead

This year had been eventful in every possible sense.

Even just listing the major incidents brought plenty to mind:

The appearance of the mysterious fog.

The outbreak of horrific monsters.

The government's insane decision to abandon ten million citizens and seal off Seoul.

Lee Se-jun's shocking wish.

The Korean Peninsula effectively falling under divided administration by China and the United States.

The countless truths revealed while advancing toward the ultimate realm of magic...

"Hoo."

I let out a sigh and collapsed onto a bench.

Thankfully, there was one tucked away in a corner of the field hospital, where groaning soldiers came and went while clutching their wounds.

At the edge of my vision, exhausted ROK Army soldiers staggered around with lifeless eyes, quietly shedding tears.

One thing stood out.

Very few soldiers were actually being carried in on stretchers with fatal wounds.

The American soldiers watching the ward from beyond the barbed wire looked puzzled, but since I knew the reality of the containment line, I understood immediately.

The casualties died before the monsters could get them.

Or they were dragged away.

I also finally learned the truth behind the soldiers wearing the military-tag armbands.

The answer came from overheard conversations.

At that moment, the jingling sound of tags passed beside me.

"Did you receive Sergeant Shim's dog tags?"

"Yes."

"Then attach them to your armband."

Even from behind, it was obvious.

One soldier walked stiffly, forcing his trembling legs forward.

Another struggled to keep his shoulders straight while pulling out a cigarette with shaking fingers.

There weren't many dying men.

But the shadow of death remained.

Now it was time to look for traces of the living.

As if on cue, Hamza approached carrying a stack of documents.

"Mr. Jemin. What are you staring at?"

"Listening to stories about those military-tag armband guys."

"Forget that. Check the news. See what's happening with Pakistan too."

I scrolled through my phone with my thumb, using the AI auto-translator to browse articles and public reactions.

A timestamp caught my eye.

May 8, 2028 — 2:16 PM

While I was checking the time, Hamza casually sat down beside me and leaned over.

"Hamza. Don't you have a phone?"

"My smartphone still hasn't been approved."

"You're having a rough time too."

I started by checking domestic websites, which were drowning under censorship and government control.

As expected from the nation where the monster outbreak began and where the bizarre containment-line system was taking shape, the internet was filled with sensational stories.

The important thing was that most of the conspiracy theories and tabloid reports were actually based on facts.

The headline article alone was proof enough.

[Martial-Law Forces Across Multiple Cities Detaining Citizens Opposing Emergency Measures. Where Have the Missing People Gone?]

That one was true.

The U.S.–ROK Combined Command was desperately gathering anyone with magical aptitude while simultaneously maintaining the infrastructure of Gyeonggi Province, the secondary containment zone.

Specialized Personnel and Civilian Operators were the most obvious examples.

"They're throwing everyone into the fog now. They're trying to rotate the troops stationed on the Seoul containment line."

"What about the people trapped in Seongnam?"

"That's probably why. Some troops in Seongnam refused orders. After General McKenzie announced a revision of the overall control system, demand for ear mages and shamans there exploded. Detection specialists were already in high demand."

"Are you really allowed to tell me stuff like that?"

I was the one getting nervous.

Hamza was casually spilling information that sounded classified.

He scratched his beard, met my gaze directly, and grinned confidently.

"Mr. Jemin. I'm not a soldier. I'm a civilian. Best of Best. Headquarters probably expected some of this information to spread."

"Ooh~"

The two of us basked in our Supreme Archmage status for a moment before returning to the subject.

According to what Hamza had picked up while visiting Headquarters, things worked like this:

What exactly were Specialized Personnel?

They were people the military had openly decided were too useful to let go.

Individuals with strong patriotism, altruistic tendencies, clean criminal records, and verifiable family backgrounds were recruited into military service as Specialized Personnel.

They operated alongside regular troops.

Their affiliations were complicated, but in exchange their families received evacuation priority.

They became part of the military supply network and, outside direct containment-line defense operations, were unofficially treated as senior personnel.

Their official title was Battlefield Environment Management Personnel, but because that sounded like a facilities-management job, everyone simply called them Specialized Personnel.

Then what about Civilian Operators?

Civilian Operators were the opposite.

It was essentially a label assigned to talented individuals considered flight risks, socially unreliable, or uncooperative toward the military.

Of course, first-generation Civilian Operators—like us Supreme Archmages and the Taeguk Cloak Group—had all volunteered willingly.

Unfortunately, most of those brave and idealistic pioneers had already been ground to dust maintaining the containment line.

With the majority of first-generation operators dead or missing, military strategy had undergone major revisions.

At this point Hamza deliberately lowered his voice.

"Mr. Jemin. This was Headquarters' original plan."

After taking over the duties of the Reality Survival Command and estimating the number of troops the Korean government had deployed near the capital since December, Headquarters arrived at the following figures:

• Approximately 80,000 troops originally stationed in Seoul, including the Capital Defense Command.
• 120,000 front-line division troops concentrated around Seoul and northern regions.
• 140,000 front- and rear-area division troops stationed around the outskirts of Seoul as a precaution.

Total estimated force near Seoul: 340,000 troops.

Only then did I finally understand why lawmakers had spent months accusing the government of preparing for a coup.

"Even if I were completely sane, I'd have thought this was a palace coup."

"Except it lacked the speed of a real coup, and the scale of mobilization was enormous. People assumed the United States must have at least tacitly approved it. It was practically a wartime deployment."

In any case, Seoul had become a demonic wasteland.

The troops stationed inside had been wiped out.

The military's original strategy had been straightforward:

Use surviving front-line divisions and Specialized Personnel to hold the primary containment line.

Use reserve units, second-line troops, and Civilian Operators to maintain the secondary line in Gyeonggi Province.

Then hunt down any monsters that appeared, like a giant game of whack-a-mole.

Naturally, if plans had worked perfectly, the monster outbreak never would have happened.

Under Field Marshal McKenzie, the reorganized Civilian Operator system now worked differently.

"They transport you near Seoul, escort and protect you until you awaken magic inside the fog, charge you for transportation, supplies, and protection, then assign missions that pay military vouchers."

"And?"

"You can exchange those vouchers for U.S. dollars. Collect one thousand and you can leave the containment line."

"Leave it and go where? You're still in Korea."

"Another thousand gets your family evacuation priority. Another thousand after that earns permanent U.S. residency. Another thousand after that qualifies you for evacuation to the United States."

Hamza smirked.

"They're also implementing color-coded identification bands based on performance grades. The system's already underway."

"What about non-mages who never awaken? They can't become Civilian Operators."

"They go to the factories."

I immediately understood.

The military had decided to scale up what they'd already been doing with us.

You got a basic rifle, a gas mask, and some ammunition.

Everything else?

Earn it yourself.

Every use of the military supply network cost vouchers.

Complete missions.

Earn vouchers.

Trade vouchers for survival.

And the better your performance, the better your treatment became.

It was a terrible system.

But the message was simple:

Endure it.

Prove your worth.

Then earn your place.

The Final Endgame Content: Overseas Evacuation

I couldn't help but scoff at the younger-generation Civilian Operators.

Did people really get motivated by something like this?

"At this point they should be begging to stay near the containment line. Instead they're talking about overseas evacuation."

"Mr. Jemin, don't you have the American Dream?"

"I've got the Magical Dream."

Seoul real estate won again.

Any mage trying to leave the Safe Zone was lower than even non-mages.

Then another thought occurred to me.

"Northern Gyeonggi got abandoned, right? Do you know what happened to the soldiers there?"

"Scroll down a bit."

Hamza tapped the screen with his finger.

I scrolled again and immediately saw a series of ridiculous headlines.

[China Announces Responsibility for Monster Outbreak on the Korean Peninsula Amid Humanity's Crisis — "We Will Resolve the Situation Together with the Democratically Re-Elected Korean Government in Incheon." Statement Appears Directed at the U.S.–ROK Combined Command in Pyeongtaek.]

[Competition Between Two Superpowers Over the Korean Peninsula Finally Ignites — China Officially Announces Creation of the Sino-Korean Joint Command.]

[Remaining Korean Army Units in Northern Gyeonggi Declare Support for the Incheon Korean Government and Sino-Korean Joint Command. Military Experts Suggest Statement Was Made in Exchange for Large-Scale Supply Assistance.]

I didn't feel much of anything.

The monsters were already out.

What was the point of hating China now?

Sure, China was irritating enough to make you want to bet your life against them.

But telling abandoned soldiers in Northern Gyeonggi not to accept Chinese aid was basically telling them to become monster food.

Still, it left a bad taste in my mouth.

I turned off the screen.

Hamza immediately protested.

"Mr. Jemin! What about Pakistan?"

"It'll be fine. It's not like it's more screwed up than Korea right now."

"That's... actually true."

I didn't know much about Pakistan, but apparently it had become a better place to live than South Korea in 2028.

"You've done a surprisingly good job not running away."

"You'd shoot me if I did."

"You learn fast."

My sour mood eased somewhat at Hamza's answer.

There was no such thing as desertion among Supreme Archmages.

Once a Supreme Archmage, always a Supreme Archmage.

Strong camaraderie was our greatest strength.

Besides, if Hamza—future Holy Relic candidate that he was—ever announced he was leaving, I'd have no choice but to tearfully pull the trigger and ensure we'd remain friends forever.

I liked living Hamza.

But if the alternative was Hamza leaving Korea, I'd rather keep Relic Hamza around.

"Anyway, what's with that folder you've been carrying around?"

"Oh, right."

Only then did Hamza hand over the folder he'd been carrying.

I took it and stared blankly.

Seeing my confusion, he kindly explained.

"Your comprehensive examination results came in."

"What?! Then you should've handed it over immediately!"

The Pentagram.

That was the whole reason I was stuck sitting on a bench instead of heading for the containment line, showing off incredible magic, receiving praise, hunting monsters, and farming experience points.

I hurriedly flipped through the report.

Most of it was useless.

Liver function normal.

Blood pressure normal.

No optic nerve or retinal damage.

Minor mouth ulcers.

Scarring on both hands from frequent injuries.

Minor nerve damage in the left hand.

Neural fatigue.

Overall, I was basically a healthy young man.

At this rate I could probably live to eighty without major illness.

That was, if not for the chest scans.

At first I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me.

The contrast was so striking that I had no choice but to ask Hamza.

"Is this AI-generated?"

"No."

There was a star drawn over my heart.

May 8, 2028 — 5:14 PM

Lee Se-jun had already finished jogging around the parade ground and returned.

His expression twisted into a frown.

"There was something on my heart too. Just a single line. The doctors asked if I'd ever had heart surgery. When I said no, they marked it as an abnormal finding and moved on."

Apparently even Lee Se-jun, a Heart-discipline mage, had something inscribed over his heart.

Just a single line.

At the moment only Hamza, Lee Se-jun, and I had returned to the barracks.

No matter how much we put our heads together, we couldn't reach any meaningful conclusions.

So we were forced to resort to the greatest mysticism expert among us.

Pastor Park.

Maybe he had notes about something similar.

Lee Se-jun didn't care at all.

He was too busy stuffing snacks from the PX into his mouth.

"Come to think of it, Mr. Jemin, you still owe me a lap around the track."

I ignored his nonsense.

This time Hamza spoke up.

"Mr. Jemin, isn't this theft?"

Since he clearly didn't understand the situation, I kindly corrected him.

"Hamza. What do you call moving an item to someone who needs it more, like taking donations from a collection box?"

"Transportation?"

"Exactly. The Pastor already agreed to involuntary transportation the moment he accepted Jesus. Stop spreading negativity and help me search."

Unfortunately, Pastor Park's backpack contained only:

• A revised Bible
• A cross
• A candlestick
• Chocolate
• A bottle of water
• Viagra

That was it.

I carefully reorganized the contents afterward and sank into thought.

I was on my own.

The problem was that nothing obvious came to mind when I thought about pentagrams.

Maybe spiritual protection?

If a pentagram was literally carved over my heart, it had to mean something significant.

The symbolism was frustratingly vague.

I spent a long time thinking.

Then I heard a vehicle pull up nearby.

Turning my head, I saw Captain Kim Ho-un running toward us.

For a moment I wondered if they'd discovered something else in my test results.

Instead—

"Mr. Baek Jemin. You've been called again."

"What? Mr. Jemin barely had time to eat after spending the entire morning undergoing tests—"

Before Hamza could finish protesting, I swiftly reached into the Pastor's backpack.

My hand found a bundle of chocolate.

Without hesitation—

Riiip!

I tore it open.

Then immediately dumped the contents into my mouth and began chewing.

I didn't have time to appreciate sweetness or bitterness.

Crunch. Crunch.

The moment I swallowed, I held out my hand.

"Hamza."

"Yes?"

"Water."

A bottle of water appeared from the Pastor's backpack.

I opened it.

Washed my hands.

Wiped my mouth.

Rinsed my mouth.

Then drank the entire bottle.

Water goes bad if you leave it too long.

Chocolate melts if you leave it too long.

As a Great Archmage, I was simply making efficient use of resources.

After completing all preparations, I hurriedly gathered my firearm and gas mask before throwing on my poncho.

Ready.

Total preparation time:

Five minutes.

The Safe Zone was booming right now.

I flashed a full-toothed grin at the bewildered Captain Kim Ho-un.

"Let's go."

I'd been worried today might end up wasted.

Perfect timing.

I genuinely couldn't understand people who wanted to leave the containment line.

Why would anyone?

These grotesque, horrifying monsters offered a path toward omnipotence.

Why wouldn't you hunt them?