Chapter 99

Dopamine Detox

The heat radiating from the overheated barrel faintly brushed against my fingertips.

If I grabbed it right now, my hand would be cooked.

That's just how full-auto fire works.

Whether a person can handle the recoil is one thing, but sustained automatic fire chews through a firearm's lifespan. If you want a gun to last, it's generally something you avoid.

Even so, breathing in the spicy, acrid smell of burnt gunpowder, I flipped the selector back to safe.

My custom AR-15—with its low-output flashlight, waterproof components, red-dot sight, and shortened barrel—had maintained its reliability even after the battle with the Skin-Wearing Tapeworm.

Captain Kim Houn had every right to brag about its dependability.

"Hoooo..."

As I lowered the muzzle with a long sigh, Instructor Song Smith, who had been silently observing, approached.

He examined the shot group on the target fifty meters away, stroked his chin thoughtfully, then lightly tapped my shoulder.

One thing I liked about Instructor Song Smith was that he didn't ramble endlessly while teaching marksmanship.

"Mr. Baek. To be honest, your abilities as a gunfighter are still lacking. I trust you understand that."

"Yeah. Naturally."

I nodded without much concern.

I'd spent plenty of time wondering how to coast through life with minimum effort.

I'd never spent a second wishing I could shoot better.

Even during reserve training, whenever I missed my shots, I'd simply think, Guess I'll give up on early dismissal, and pull the trigger anyway.

The men who'd served alongside me in the reserves would probably find that disappointing.

But life was unfair.

Always had been.

There was no way someone like me would impress a professional whose livelihood revolved around firearms.

Still, Instructor Song Smith wasn't simply putting me down.

"That said, Mr. Baek, you've improved considerably in the areas we initially corrected."

"No one expects Special Forces-level gunfighter performance from you anyway."

"Considering you're a practitioner of localized invasive Modification Magic, the fact that you're even interested in firearms and maintain a tactical mindset is already highly unusual."

"Ahem. Cough."

Maybe I'd inhaled too much gun smoke.

My throat felt scratchy.

"Besides, while you're naturally behind people who've spent their entire lives as gunfighters, you're significantly above the average Korean conscript."

"I can tell that repeated engagements with monsters and hostile survivors have sharpened your instincts as a fighter."

"Take this shot group, for example."

He pointed at the broad cluster of bullet holes on the target.

"Your first five rounds after acquiring the target are extremely tight and fast."

"Considering the short range and static target, it's not extraordinary—but it's still beyond what you'd normally see from a typical conscript."

"I'm genuinely pleased to see your improvement."

"That's thanks to your meticulous instruction, Instructor Song Smith. I've been soaking it up like a sponge."

I truly appreciated how talented he was as an educator.

To see through the essence of Baek Jemin so accurately...

No wonder headquarters had selected him.

"Someone of your caliber would've made a fine soldier. Have you considered enlisting?"

I take it back.

I wasn't foolish enough to fall for the transparent recruitment setup that headquarters had obviously hinted to him.

Fortunately, I was no longer the only Supreme Mage visiting the range.

Clack.

Heavy footsteps drew both our gazes.

Familiar faces.

The Supreme Mages who'd spent their military vouchers maintaining equipment and collecting training ammunition were entering the firing lanes in full combat gear.

Each awkwardly fiddling with their assigned headsets.

"Instructor Song. Can I use the machine gun here?"

"I was informed in advance and prepared everything."

"Lane Three."

"Mr. Lee, I'll supervise you personally."

"Everyone else can pick an empty lane and start shooting until you establish a proper grouping."

Lee Sejun effortlessly hoisted a massive K15 machine gun, checked the ammunition box, and followed Song Smith toward the firing position.

I looked around to see what everyone else was doing.

Predictably—

"Almighty Lord God, guide my barrel toward Your enemies. Let the bullets I unleash become Your righteous wrath tearing apart the bodies of Satan's demons..."

Shin Nain had hung her personal headset around her neck and was wearing the range-issued one instead.

The notable thing was her fashion sense.

Wearing a poncho to emphasize that she was a Supreme Mage was one thing.

But she'd also painted bright red crosses all over her rifle to make absolutely sure everyone knew she was a devout Christian.

Ordinary people would probably assume it was just red paint.

But Lee Sejun wasn't the only one who had unlocked a new magical system.

While gently stroking her K2 rifle like a lover with her heavily bandaged right hand, Shin Nain prayed in a blissful voice.

"The Lord shall strengthen me. His righteous right hand shall uphold me."

"Nain. That's not a miracle from God."

"That's Modification Magic, Hand System Stage One—[Blood of the Right Hand]."

While Lee Sejun had acquired Tongue System Stage One, [Downgrade], Shin Nain had awakened Hand System Stage One, [Blood of the Right Hand].

While I was losing experience points to Mutation Immunity during my fight with the Skin-Wearing Tapeworm, these bastards had been farming experience at the containment line and unlocking entirely new systems.

I was so irritated that I tried poking at her a little.

But Shin Nain slowly opened her eyes and smiled like a woman who had attained enlightenment.

"Mr. Jemin, it's a Modification Sacred Rite."

"And the fact that the Lord God's righteous right hand displays absolute power against Satan's demons is itself proof of His work."

"Blessed are those who believe without seeing."

"And those who see yet refuse to believe shall fall into Hell on Judgment Day."

"I pray you repent before it's too late."

"Aren't we already in Hell?"

"An evil spirit has taken root in your heart, Mr. Jemin."

"Lord, shine Your light upon even this poor soul who sees You yet cannot believe!"

The moment she raised her mental defenses, I knew further provocation was pointless.

Truly worthy of a Ghost Mage.

Even after listening to Lee Sejun's ridiculous gender-swap nonsense, the beastlike howls of monsters, and the screams of victims, her mind remained unshakable.

Having no other options, I withdrew and approached the person who looked least suited for a firing range.

Turban.

Neatly groomed mustache.

A familiar face gripping a K2 rifle while trembling and breathing in short, nervous bursts.

Hamza.

"Hamza. Didn't you say you'd stay in the rear?"

At my teasing question, Hamza blinked and hugged the rifle tighter.

Squeeze.

After taking several deep breaths, he finally answered.

"It's still hard."

"It's still scary."

"It still hurts."

"I still want to run away."

Hamza was surprisingly self-aware.

Crushed by fear and constantly fleeing from it, he'd become a Supreme Mage despite being fundamentally unsuited for combat.

Comparable even to me, Baek Jemin, who silently wept inside every time monsters died and lamented the tragedy of it all.

Yet despite everything, Hamza squeezed his eyes shut and said:

"But dying without even firing a gun once sounds even worse."

I'd already finished my own shooting practice.

There was no reason to remain on the firing line.

I stepped back, removed my headset, inspected my weapon, and watched the other Supreme Mages train.

Partly to assess their skill levels.

Mostly to mock them if they sucked.

Lee Sejun gave me no opportunity.

Using the superhuman physique granted by Heart Magic, he suppressed recoil to an absurd degree.

He fired until the machine gun barrel glowed hot, yet his shots landed like laser beams on targets two hundred meters away.

I could occasionally hear Song Smith practically losing his mind.

"Mr. Lee, if Heart-System Magic can control recoil this effectively, your firearm options become dramatically broader."

"If it's not too rude to ask, how many military vouchers do you currently possess...?"

"About one hundred eighty."

"I get one hundred fifty per mission."

"Excellent."

"If you'd like, call me sometime."

"I'd be happy to accompany you to the armory and recommend equipment and firearms."

Watching Lee Sejun casually accept the offer as though it were nothing, I couldn't help but admire him.

On the surface, he looked every bit the ideal soldier.

Meanwhile, Shin Nain was demonstrating impressive marksmanship in her own lane.

Judging by her constant muttering, she was reciting prayers between every trigger pull.

She'd always been calm and composed in combat, so her shot groups were stable and consistent.

Only Hamza looked awkward.

His shouldering position was clumsy.

His hands trembled.

Even Song Smith seemed to recognize that Hamza was the toughest case.

Eventually he began giving him one-on-one instruction.

"You're far too tense."

"Forget firing for now."

"Let's start with simply raising the rifle and aligning your sights properly."

"Y-yes..."

Hamza probably never imagined he'd one day come to Korea and find himself holding a rifle.

At first I'd watched purely to make fun of him.

But as I watched him stubbornly maintain that awkward posture with desperate determination, my opinion gradually changed.

Hamza was absolutely hopeless with firearms.

So hopeless that even Song Smith's legendary patience was audibly wearing thin.

The pressure would have made anyone sweat buckets.

Yet even while drowning in shame and frustration, Hamza listened carefully and followed every instruction.

That was probably why Song Smith continued teaching him so patiently.

"Mr...?"

"K-K-Kirmani."

"Mr. Kirmani. If you want to improve as a gunfighter, it'll require an enormous amount of effort. However, you already possess the most fundamental understanding that marksmanship shares with all martial arts."

He pointed at Hamza's chest.

"That it exists as an extension of self-defense. The desire to protect yourself."

"Because you have that mindset, I'll do my best to teach you. Focus."

"Y-yes... yes, sir!"

Hamza answered in English thickly colored by Korean pronunciation and diligently followed Song Smith's instructions.

He still looked ridiculous.

And ordinary.

The rifle in his hands was something he would never have touched in the old world.

Marksmanship was never a skill he would've needed.

Most civilians go through their entire lives without seriously learning how to handle firearms.

But the world had changed beyond repair.

Even Hamza was carrying a rifle and training with it.

To survive in the new world, you had to be capable of pulling a trigger.

At least we Supreme Mages understood the new rules better than anyone.

We had watched, over and over, the fate of people who simply screamed for help while waiting for soldiers or police officers to save them when monsters appeared.

At the very least, we'd fire first and scream later.

Listening to the continuous gunfire, I pulled out my smartphone.

11:00 AM, May 11, 2028.

Through the tiny screen, I could glimpse just how brutally the world was changing.

Every foreign news outlet and public broadcaster was reporting the same thing.

Thank God for AI translation.

Even someone hopeless at English like me could enjoy foreign dopamine-fueled news.

[Breaking News: U.S. Senate and House designate the Korean Peninsula biological disaster as a wartime situation. Declaration of war passes by majority vote.]

[First UN deployment begins. Final deployment estimated at 500,000 personnel. Largest overseas deployment since the Korean War. Concerns over the Korean biological disaster continue to grow.]

[China and Russia state that while control is necessary in extreme circumstances, the exclusion of civilians from political power and the permanent puppetization of southern Korea must be prevented. Growing tensions between the Korea-China Combined Command and Korea-U.S. Joint Command interpreted as a new struggle for influence over UN peacekeeping authority on the peninsula...]

As I scrolled, the international situation appeared to be changing by the hour.

Some foreign citizens insisted the monsters were AI-generated fabrications.

Others claimed the crisis was merely a pretext for censorship and social control.

Idealists argued that humanity faced a global threat and must transcend ideology and national rivalries to unite.

More headlines.

[U.S. President awards five-star rank to General McKenzie, commander of the Pyeongtaek Korea-U.S. Joint Headquarters... War returns after seventy years.]

[First five-star appointment in roughly eighty years. What does it signify?]

And it wasn't only secular nations that were moving.

One of the oldest religious organizations in existence—an institution that had preserved countless pagan traditions despite centuries of hostility—had finally spoken.

[The Vatican holds special Mass for salvation from the biological disaster in Korea. Possibility of a cardinal delegation discussed. Pope remains silent regarding potential visit to Korea.]

I turned off my phone and quietly folded my arms.

Mm.

My dopamine threshold was getting too high.

Time for a detox from sensational news.

Rat-tat-tat-tat...

Gunfire echoed across the range.

I found myself admiring how I'd become capable of appreciating gunshots the way a Grand Mage might appreciate rainfall.

Then—

Hurried footsteps.

Exhausted footsteps.

I'd heard them often enough to recognize them immediately.

Captain Kim Houn.

The poor bastard spent so much time running back and forth between headquarters and the Supreme Mages that his footsteps practically had their own signature.

Opening my eyes, I saw him.

Sure enough, he was gasping for breath.

Captain Kim Houn bent over with his hands on his knees, panting and drooling slightly before noticing me.

Then he staggered over.

"What's got you in such a hurry?"

"B-Baek Jemin. Headquarters... h-headquarters is calling..."

"The U.S. Congress declared war?"

"General McKenzie got promoted to five-star?"

"I already know all that, so stop acting dramatic."

I'd just spent the morning absorbing premium-grade dopamine.

How exciting could his news possibly be?

This was the perfect moment to display the composure of Grand Mage Baek Jemin.

Surely there couldn't be any news left capable of squeezing out more dopamine—

"There's a rebellion."

...Couldn't be.

"What?"

"A rebellion in Seongnam!"

I stared at him.

Then I looked around the firing range.

A laugh escaped me.

Not because it was funny.

Because it was so absurd I couldn't believe it.

"The fuck do you mean, a rebellion? Why would there suddenly be a rebellion?"

Captain Kim Houn glanced around nervously and lowered his voice.

"Obviously the Seongnam containment forces aren't actually rebelling."

Just as I thought.

Typical overreaction.

I mean, things were finally supposed to settle down.

Get information from Anderson.

Power up.

Farm experience.

Farm gear.

And suddenly there's a rebellion in Seongnam?

Ridiculous.

Then he whispered:

"It's the 55th Unit."

"The 55th Unit is moving south and breaking through the containment line."

"..."

"Supreme Mages! Get in the vehicle!"

BIG BIG BIG

International news?

Global politics?

Worthless.

I had forgotten that I was standing on humanity's front line.

The holy land of dopamine itself.

11:16 AM, May 11, 2028.

Me.

Shin Nain.

Lee Sejun.

Hamza.

Pastor Park Yohan.

Goryeoha.

The six of us found ourselves once again at the Reality Survival Command.

I'd gotten so used to dealing with Major General Jeon Minho that seeing Lieutenant General Royce again—still wearing that gentle expression—felt oddly nostalgic.

But there was no time for pleasantries.

Korean and American officers alike stood stiff as boards.

Sweat dripped down their faces.

Even we Supreme Mages found the atmosphere oppressive.

The briefing proceeded with Lieutenant General Royce speaking in English while Major General Jeon translated for the Korean personnel.

A strange rhythm.

English.

Then Korean.

But the seriousness came through regardless.

Major General Jeon pointed to maps and photographs pinned to a whiteboard while elaborating on Royce's explanations.

"Officially, the incident is being described as unrest caused by delayed troop rotations in Seongnam."

"But everyone present here is a key member of the Reality Survival Command. I trust you understand the true gravity of the situation."

"The offensive launched by the Sixty-Six Martyrs appears to have occurred immediately after the U.S. Congress formally recognized the current situation as wartime and promoted Commander McKenzie to five-star rank."

"We believe this offensive serves both political and strategic objectives."

"If Seongnam falls, Suwon becomes vulnerable."

"Our already strained supply lines may collapse."

"The eastern Gyeonggi containment network may fall as well."

"There are currently reports of Fog Depth Level One conditions north of Seongnam, reducing visibility to under two hundred meters."

"Combat reports continue to arrive."

The 55th Unit.

Former soldiers from Seoul.

Abandoned troops.

Deserters.

People who had pledged loyalty to the Sixty-Six Martyrs in exchange for survival and magical knowledge.

Every single one of them was a Stage-One Modification Mage.

That alone placed enormous pressure on the containment lines.

But there was something even more troubling.

Major General Jeon's voice trembled slightly as he continued.

"And naturally, multiple reports have confirmed sightings of hostile Localized Invasive Modification practitioners of at least Stage Two operating in northern Seongnam."

"And..."

"We've received direct communications from the individual believed to be leading this offensive."

At Royce's signal, Brigadier General Thatcher had a staff officer play a recording.

Most people hearing it for the first time might not notice.

But every Supreme Mage in the room immediately frowned.

[Three times. I've told you three times already. Bring me the people who made the decision to establish the containment line.]

A voice so hoarse and abrasive that identifying its gender felt meaningless.

The rasp scraped against the ears.

Soft.

Almost whispering.

[You should scream for help three times, too.]

And suddenly I understood.

Why the 55th Unit had ignored Anyang—a city they had nearly broken through already—and targeted Seongnam instead.

This was someone who had communicated with the military before.

Only five people had ever received those transmissions.

The Yongsan Station Madam, suspected of loading amalgams onto a train bound for Suwon Station.

The pathetic idiot hiding in Dobong-gu, crying and begging for rescue.

The professor in Nowon-gu gathering survivors while playing both sides.

Goryeoha, the Four-Grace Sword scammer who joined the Supreme Mages despite all the Konkuk University survivors being dead.

And...

The most dangerous mage of all.

The one who seemed to hate the military, the containment line, and the outside world more than anyone.

"Shit."

Gangnam Clairvoyant.