Chapter 109 - Baek Je-min Loves Non-Mages

I leaped from rooftop to rooftop.

The world whipped past in the space of a few short seconds. Every time I flailed my feet in the sky, gunfire erupted and ricochets rang out. Engines sputtering were a given; I could even hear the tiny cracks of bullets striking the asphalt and crumpling.

With leg strength like this, saying I was practically walking on air was no exaggeration.

I, the archmage Baek Je-min, was indulging to my heart's content in the possibilities of heart magic that Lee Se-jun had squandered by staying earthbound. A realm that thickheaded former staff sergeant, trapped in his stale military terminology and common sense, had never managed to reach...!

I shuddered again and again before this fragment of omnipotent power.

Before long, the view beneath my feet changed, as always, to a painted concrete rooftop. My toes touched the rooftop railing, and I rolled onto the roof as though falling.

CRASH!

I didn't care that my gun dug into my shoulder. The dopamine rush of bounding between rooftops was far more intense than any pain.

I readjusted my grip on the gun in an instant and strode toward the railing, only to hear Shin Na-in's telepathy.

'Je-min, drones.'

I immediately looked around. A door leading to the stairs. A rooftop room with a slate roof.

I chose the latter.

Anyone could tell the rooftop room was an illegal addition. The slate roofing was neatly laid, but the partition walls were barely better than a shipping container's. They had clearly given up on heating or cooling the place.

It had an electronic door lock, but I was a man who had been jumping across roads a lane and a half wide on leg strength alone. Vowing that the next magic I unlocked would definitely be Heart, Stage Two, I clenched my fist.

Time to use the ultimate hacking technique for bypassing this kind of security.

BANG!

Plastic and circuit boards shattered and scattered. My bare fist had punched through the door, yet apart from a slight tingling, it was perfectly fine. Only a large hole remained where the lock had been.

I pulled my fist out, turned the handle, and stepped into the rooftop room.

"Excuse me."

As I turned the handle and went inside, a foul smell washed over me. Rotting protein.

The smell of death—a mixture of rotten fish and rotten eggs—penetrated my gas mask's filter and assaulted my nose.

I closed the rooftop room's door behind me and went farther inside.

Black marks stained the yellowish vinyl flooring, but they weren't burns. Something had melted and run down, pooled, then dried into a sticky, tar-like residue.

The unpowered refrigerator's door was slightly ajar. I checked inside, but it was completely empty. The water must have been cut off ages ago; not a single drop emerged from the faucet. Only dried detergent marks remained in the sink, outlining pale shapes.

I opened the sole sliding interior door and looked inside. There were people whose shapes had collapsed.

That was when the swarm of drones began passing overhead.

BUZZZZZZ!

Amid the faint crackle of gunfire, the wasp-like buzz peculiar to swarming drones battered the tightly shut window. Scraps of cloth, precariously suspended from loose thumbtacks, fluttered against the window, letting sunlight through between their edges.

Every time the shafts of light entering the room widened or narrowed, the shadows shifted too.

Three decomposing bodies hugged one another, pressed tight against the wardrobe as though trying to remain in the shade to the very end. They had been human. Everything about their living appearance had been erased and crushed, but there was no sign of mutation.

I stood before them, doing nothing but breathing quietly, listening to my breath escaping through the gas mask's filter.

HOOO...

The vibrations of the shelling reached this flimsy rooftop room all the more clearly. The flight noise of drones shooting everything in sight sounded unusually loud too.

While I waited for the drone swarm to pass, the shifting sunlight let me get a better look at the scraps hung up to cover the window.

Children's clothes.

First year of middle school, at the oldest?

At that size, they couldn't have blocked all the sunlight even if they had been properly secured to the window frame.

Only then did I notice that one of the three bodies was considerably smaller than the others.

My precious doping time was ticking away, but instead of racing away from the drones, I chose to wait in that room, breathing quietly. For no particular reason, I gently stroked the trigger with my right index finger.

Eventually, the drone swarm's buzzing receded, and Shin Na-in's telepathy reached me.

'Je-min. They're gone.'

Instead of answering, I rose. The hem of my poncho fluttered, and I felt its weight shift, but paid it no mind. I turned the handle on the door with the smashed lock and left the rooftop room.

Beautiful people leave beautiful places behind.

Despite the gaping hole in the door, I closed it quietly, without making a sound.

Around then, thick clouds of artillery smoke began rising ceaselessly from one direction.

The shelling transmitted sound by shaking my entire body rather than my eardrums. My guts trembled instead of my ears, singing with horrifying vibrations. The terror of chemical shells, bombardment, and drones was enough to rival the fear of monsters.

Gunfire and screams began mingling among the concrete buildings breaking apart and collapsing.

That was also when Shin Na-in's bleak, dry telepathy came through.

'Military force on Sanseong Boulevard engaged while advancing north. Pack of devils.'

He had said he would contact me every two minutes. Allowing for reports of unusual developments, roughly five minutes had passed.

The doping was still holding up, but I had gotten too sentimental.

I turned back toward the rooftop railing. The problem was that I had reached the edge of the low-rise residential neighborhood.

Northern Seongnam was packed with relatively low buildings around the broad thoroughfare called Sanseong Boulevard, but redeveloped apartment complexes and new low-rise residential buildings were scattered among them, making their heights rather erratic.

That left even the alleys badly exposed. I worried whether Na-in and the pastor could make their way through safely.

The pastor's doctrinal magic, [Soteriological Conviction], would keep them from dying sudden, violent deaths, but if Unit 55 launched a fierce ambush or surprise attack, I could end up dead. I couldn't let that happen. The pastor's magic protected only the pastor and those around him.

With "around him" being so abstract, I didn't want to rely on probability.

But right now, I was doped up.

I didn't know how long this miraculous moment, gained by destroying a low-level heart mage's remains, would last. While I could use it, I had to exploit it to the absolute limit. That included finding out everything the doping did.

Did it merely amplify the effectiveness of my magic? Or did it reduce the penalties too?

How much stronger did I get? How long did it last? What was the cooldown?

There was no better way to find the answers than beating the shit out of the Gangnam group.

Standing on the rooftop railing of the old low-rise building with its illegal rooftop addition, I looked up at a newly built apartment tower in a redeveloped complex. Even with my taste of Heart, Stage Two, leaping all the way up there looked impossible.

The laws of the world and humanity's common sense wouldn't allow it.

The problem was that the bizarre red beam of light pointed to that apartment building's roof.

A Unit 55 sniper.

I couldn't just pass him by.

Countersniping? Amateur stuff.

Taking out a rooftop sniper with countersniping was the mindset of a soldier who still barely used magic. Something Lee Se-jun would do. I was a man who dreamed of becoming an archmage, who was fascinated by magic's limitless possibilities, and who willingly stepped toward Seoul in pursuit of that omnipotent power.

I would solve this problem like a mage.

I rolled my tongue inside my mouth.

This time, I wasn't using Eye, Stage One, [Cognitive Expansion], or Eye, Stage Two, [Cognitive Distortion].

Some might think this magic worked only on the body. That it could only be used to deny physical injuries. But was cognitive dissonance really limited to refusing to acknowledge bodily wounds?

What was an obvious truth to someone else was not a truth to me. Humanity's common sense did not apply to me.

Under heaven, only my perception and senses determined my world.

Upright Alteration-Type Eye, Stage Three, [Cognitive Dissonance], 100%.

Gravity acts toward the soles of my feet.

Then I hopped up lightly and thrust my feet straight forward.

BANG!

Agony surged through me as though a meat tenderizer were pounding my tongue flat. A few tears burst out, then streamed down my face. The pain made the backs of my knees tingle; without realizing it, I pressed my thighs together and my legs quivered.

Yet all that pain and agony gave way to a faint sensation of floating.

What pushed me off the railing was a pulling force.

Not the road full of abandoned vehicles, but the apartment building's outer wall was pulling me toward it.

As my body tilted and fell, all that lay ahead were clouds streaming like a waterfall, a brilliantly blue sky, and apartment buildings towering like dams.

The vertigo of having nowhere to plant my feet turned my mind blank. Forget bungee jumping—I was scared even of roller coasters. At amusement parks, I used my unlimited pass to ride the monorail and carousel five times each. This was far beyond what I could take.

As the fall began, my mouth opened without my realizing it.

I probably screamed.

The wind battered my poncho as though trying to rip it apart. I had neither the time nor the composure to hear anything.

I was falling faster than the clouds streaming like a waterfall.

Fear gripped my heart: if I failed to reach the concrete, I would fall endlessly into the empty sky.

My life flashed before my eyes.

The many trials and tribulations in the eventful life of the man, Baek Je-min.

The time all the toilet stalls were blocked, so I had no choice but to shit in a urinal. The time I pocketed 600,000 won meant for cram-school tuition and blew it all at an internet cafe. The time I ditched my bag and ran away to skip evening study hall, only to be summoned by the dean of students the next day. The time I went to check equipment during a thunderstorm warning in the military and saw lightning strike the tree right beside me...

All those memories and emotions evaporated, leaving only one thought.

'Oh. I'm going to die.'

KRAAA-BOOOM!

It was instinctive.

I slammed my relatively intact left hand into the ground. I had unintentionally performed a superhero landing on the apartment building's outer wall. One silver lining was that all the residents who might have billed me for repairs had breathed in the gas and croaked.

I was certain I would have been crushed flat if I hadn't been sampling Heart, Stage Two, [Improved Physical Abilities]—if I hadn't been doped up.

Once I realized that, everything fear had suppressed burst out.

The first thing was my breath. Breath mingled with dry saliva spilled out through the gas mask's filter.

HUFF, HUFF, HUUUFF...

My vision was a little hazy too. My eyesight was normally 1.2, but now it felt closer to 0.8. My view looked like a photograph breaking up at a lower resolution.

But I had survived.

I got up and took a slow, cautious step.

My human common sense, insisting I would die if I lifted a foot, clashed violently with my perception, asking why walking would kill me. The life I had lived collided with the life I was living now, tangling confusion and dizziness, vertigo and fear, ecstasy and déjà vu together at random.

Non-mage Baek Je-min threw a fit, demanding whether I was insane, but archmage Baek Je-min said:

Reality was already crumbling.

Fail to adapt, and you would be left behind.

If I kept hiding behind the label of "ordinary person" to justify being trapped by the common sense of the past, I would truly be reduced to a non-mage.

I would have no grounds to complain even if I were considered more primitive and barbaric than a modern person who couldn't use a smartphone was considered backward.

The Supreme Mages left non-mages alone, protected them, and treated them properly as human beings. But how long did I expect other mages to nobly uphold humanism?

If non-mages were excluded from the definition of humanity, failing to protect them would pose no problem for that precious humanism.

There was no need to look far. The Seoul mages were already showing us that future. Ski Goggles and the recollections I had seen through past sight made it abundantly clear.

Among the Seoul mages, the definition of humanity was already changing.

Non-mages?

Weaklings without even the resolve to learn magic. Monsters-in-waiting who couldn't resist mutation, weren't even allowed the chance to fire a gun, and did nothing but consume food and complain.

If anything, those who had complained about science and capital, about their circumstances and the privilege they were born into, ought to celebrate alongside me.

Much as I disliked it, the path was always open to non-mages too.

A world where suffering was rewarded 100% of the time.

A world where you could enjoy a fragment of omnipotence if you were willing to face death and endure pain.

If you didn't want to face death or suffer, then just applaud the Supreme Mages.

The age of pure talent and passion had finally arrived.

This was the new normal—the first step into a new era!

THUD.

My combat boots walked across the deeply cracked concrete outer wall. The hem of my poncho trailed behind my back, but my body stood straight.

Walking no longer made me dizzy.

Beyond merely overcoming the dizziness, I felt as comfortable as if I were soaking up the sunshine on a neighborhood riverside path in slippers. Apart from the slightly stronger wind, my stride was steady enough for me to walk along letting out a leisurely yawn.

CLACK!

I tucked the gun firmly under my right arm and crouched slightly. I would get everything I could out of this before the doping ended. Laughter bubbled up for no reason as I prepared for my first short sprint since middle school.

And I ran.

Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot...

With every repetition, my weight struck the concrete ground. Huge painted letters naming some apartment complex and its section passed beneath my feet. The end of my poncho flapped fiercely behind me, trying to pull me back, but my [Cognitive Dissonance] was powerful.

THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD.

The end was approaching fast.

Like a branch growing horizontally from a cliff, the concrete stretched straight ahead, and I alone ran along it.

Then helmeted soldiers appeared over the apartment building's railing.

CLACK!

Even from over there, I distinctly heard metal engaging.

I lowered my body farther and grabbed the fluttering sleeve and hem of my poncho with my left hand, pulling them up.

Then bullets rained down.

RATATATATAT!

Gunfire was always deafening.

Perhaps because the enemies were firing with their muzzles extended past the railing, a few bouncing shell casings fell after the bullets too.

I could distinguish bullets from casings by the distinctive weight and sound with which they struck my [Bulletproof]-enchanted poncho.

The bullets bulged against the fabric as though about to penetrate, then bounced away. The sharp whine of those deadly rounds ricocheting off the concrete outer wall battered my eardrums nonstop. The casings clattered and tumbled away, or slid down like raindrops.

I was running with my body lowered nearly flat when it happened.

BANG!

A helmet fell past my eyes, concealed beneath the poncho's hem.

I was running, so it passed in such a brief instant that I thought I might have seen wrong. Until Shin Na-in's telepathy came through.

'Friendly sniper.'

Only then could I hear the groans and screams escaping like air from a deflating balloon. The Unit 55 soldiers at the railing clustered together. The moment I confirmed that, there was no reason to hesitate.

Using the end of the concrete—the bars and fence guarding the apartment railing—as my last foothold, I jumped into the clear sky.

The rooftop emplacement came into view.

Every soldier belonged to Unit 55 and wore white bandages. The position was armed with an autocannon that looked as though it had been removed from an armored vehicle, the rifles the soldiers carried, and machine guns mounted on sandbags near the fence.

The Unit 55 soldiers were dragging their wounded comrade along and drawing their bayonets.

Then our eyes met.

As our different gravities intersected.

Me, passing over their heads and falling into the sky with the clouds. The Unit 55 soldiers, stuck to the apartment rooftop, standing vertically and staring stupidly at me.

At that instant, I rolled my tongue inside my mouth without hesitation.

Eye, Stage Two, [Cognitive Distortion], 100%.

The price came immediately.

The burning pain in my left arm, which I had grown accustomed to and simply ignored, boiled through every blood vessel running along my forearm. The papillae on my tongue split, and pain like a knife slicing all the way to its root made my knees buckle.

I literally pissed myself.

At the same time, my body was pulled back toward the apartment rooftop like a magnet.

SPLAT!

In time slowed almost to a standstill, the Unit 55 soldiers were already preparing. They had hurriedly aimed their muzzles upward, ready to fire at an airborne target, while the heart mage was actually lifting the mounted machine gun.

But within my self-willed perception, I alone was free.

This was where firearms, including the AR-15, had their advantage.

I somehow drew my trembling legs together, adjusted my stance, and aimed. Most men on active duty in the Republic of Korea would be good at shooting stationary targets. This was exactly that situation.

CLICK-CLICK-CLICK...

I couldn't even hear the shots. Yet I felt the heavy recoil flow through my body.

In slowed time, the muzzle flashes and smoke from my gun simply piled up. Only the clicking of parts engaging as I pulled the trigger reached my ears.

At 100%, [Cognitive Distortion] imposed penalties in proportion to how much I moved. Moving fewer times over a short period would reduce them.

So I would kill just enough to attract attention, just enough to keep them from threatening me, and accept the penalty.

I tucked my smoking gun under my right arm and grabbed the hem of my [Bulletproof] poncho with my left, pulling it up. Cover my face. Curl up.

The time had come.

A blink.

BANG!!!

The gunshots overlapped. The Unit 55 soldiers' screams were drowned out in an instant.

The return fire came at the same time.

My ears were muffled, so I couldn't hear the gunshots, but the heavy impacts against my poncho told me bullets were pouring in. They struck hard enough to leave numerous deep bruises on my left arm.

Show even a little of my face, and I would die.

That rule applied both to me and to the Unit 55 soldiers firing so fiercely.

A whistling rush of air threaded between the gunshots. It was so alien that I couldn't help hearing it. Every time it came, fewer bullets struck my poncho.

About six seconds.

Still huddled behind my [Bulletproof] poncho, I heard Shin Na-in's telepathy.

'Unit 55 is moving. Friendly special forces have intervened.'

The gunfire stopped shortly afterward.

I pulled the poncho sleeve aside and rose, and the bullets lodged in it pattered down. It was the first time I had heard bullets, rather than shell casings, fall and roll across the ground.

Perhaps because I had figured out how to handle [Cognitive Distortion] at 100%, I only felt drained, like I had collapsed after a brutal workout. I wasn't in the kind of agony that made me think I would die.

This must be why mages should use guns.

If I had stupidly charged in with a knife and hacked away, I would have needed another shot of morphine. Replace that with a few clicks of the trigger, and everything in life became easy.

I looked around. There was nothing but death before me.

Roughly seven men.

Most had gasped and died. Only two were even allowed to groan and clutch the sides or arms where they had been shot by the sniper. Na-in had thought there were special forces here, and he had been right. I couldn't help admiring the marksmanship of humanity's finest.

Yeah. If they could shoot like this, they deserved to be gun mages.

Not non-mages. I acknowledged them as gun mages.

I readjusted my grip on my gun and approached the two Unit 55 soldiers still alive.

One of them gave up and began sobbing.

"H-h-huh..."

Then his sobbing became outright wailing.

"Waaah... Waaah... Uwaaah... Ugh, khack... Khh..."

CLACK.

Without hesitation, I aimed at his head.

One gunshot silenced his crying.

The last soldier clutched his side, panting and breathing through sobs. As I approached him, he spoke between gasps.

"Why?"

"..."

"Why us? Why did it have to happen while I was in the army..."

CLACK.

When I aimed the muzzle at him, the last one finally burst into tears too.

"Mom!"

As a shell casing tumbled down, tears rolled down inside a gas mask too.

Not my tears.

What I had shed just now was a few drops of piss.

I checked my remaining ammunition right there.

Hmm. I'd used a fair bit... I didn't know exactly how many rounds remained. I decided to just change magazines.

Conveniently, magazines were scattered everywhere here.

While I was at it, I looked for grenades, but these guys didn't seem to carry explosives much. Perhaps explosives were scarce. I finished gathering things quickly, inserted a fresh magazine, and sent Na-in a telepathic message.

'Took the apartment rooftop.'

A moment later, Shin Na-in spoke urgently.

'Je-min, the military force on Sanseong Boulevard has been cut off! Devils are swarming in, and Unit 55 is concentrating on holding off us and the special forces!'

That was when my attention moved beyond the apartment rooftop.

I could clearly see just how thoroughly Seongnam had been wrecked.

Screams and groans erupted among the low buildings, and explosions rose here and there with clouds of black dust.

In the vast fog cloud over Seoul in the distance, enormous shadows writhed. They looked like animal young trying to tear through an amniotic sac and burst out, sending a chill through me.

But since they couldn't immediately emerge, something was holding them back.

Having reached that conclusion, I turned my attention back to Na-in. Of course, I also slung my gun over my shoulder and went for the rooftop heart mage who had been serving as the machine gunner. The doping was gradually wearing off.

Breaking his ribs and pulling out the low-level mage's remains, I sent a telepathic message.

'So what do you want me to do? Where do you need help?'

'Below your apartment building!'

CRUNCH!

I threw the heart down and crushed it underfoot.

HISSS...

Fog escaped and seeped into me. That extended the doping duration.

I poked my head slightly past the railing to assess the situation. Below the apartment building, two sides were exchanging fire on a road narrower than the boulevard, but apparently about two lanes wide.

On one side were two people in ponchos holding guns, naturally taking cover behind abandoned vehicles and fallen building debris.

Na-in and the pastor. Obvious at a glance.

On the other were soldiers with white bandages wrapped around their arms like armbands. Unit 55.

Unit 55's squad tactics were quite sophisticated for conscripts.

There were seven in total, split into groups of two, two, and three. The three took turns firing. They had rifles, but focused on suppressive fire. The two pairs were armed with shotguns and flamethrowers.

From the rooftop, I could see the foundation of their tactics.

While the three riflemen pinned the targets down, the two shotgun-and-flamethrower pairs would spread out on either flank, encircle them, and burn or drive out anyone hiding in buildings. They had clearly racked their brains to make the most of a squad originally assigned to the cordon.

I saw Na-in and the pastor realize that, arm a grenade, and throw it.

Honestly, watching the fight was so fucking entertaining that I didn't want to intervene.

But at that instant, a familiar voice rang out as though from a loudspeaker.

["Listen, listen."]

The birdlike voice spoke slyly but firmly.

["If a grenade lands near you, cover it with your body!"]

One rifleman threw himself over the grenade Na-in had tossed.

I whipped my head around.

An explosion rang out, and the sly voice came again.

["Listen, listen. Resume combat!"]

The two pairs began quickly circling through the alleys to get at Na-in and the pastor. Noticing, Na-in took the pastor with him and retreated quickly while returning fire, then sent a telepathic message that sounded ready to burst with frustration.

'Je-min!!! What are you doing!!!'

No, but... honestly, if you were in my shoes, you'd watch too.

Still, I had to think rationally.

If I confessed that I hadn't intervened because watching the fight was so damn fun, that mind reader might expose everything about me.

So I sent a cooperative message.

'Fine. I'll help.'

Without hesitation, I took a grenade from my belt.

This was why, knowingly or otherwise, I had quietly considered Lee Se-jun a dumbass while envying him. His thinking was rigid. As a former soldier, he focused only on increasing firepower and left plenty to be desired when it came to using magic's versatility.

It was also true that I had found his good points while swallowing the nasty thought that I could do better if I had his magic.

Right. Who else would carry our stuff if not Lee Se-jun?

But I, the archmage Baek Je-min, intended to prove that the same magic could be used differently.

POP!

I pulled the grenade's pin. Cooking it? No need. Throwing from this distance would do the cooking for me.

I adjusted my stance as though skipping a stone and threw the grenade.

Normally, it would have dropped weakly.

But a body enhanced by Heart, Stage Two, [Improved Physical Abilities], did no such thing.

It plunged down.

The grenade drove into the asphalt like a javelin.

Then it exploded.

With the blast, the two Unit 55 soldiers approaching the apartment building vanished. Flying grenade fragments swept through the windows of several abandoned vehicles, and the three riflemen providing suppressive fire were suppressed in turn, throwing themselves flat.

The other two Unit 55 soldiers circling toward the buildings by the boulevard hurried inside for cover, their flanking maneuver blocked.

That was how valuable positioning was.

I was proudly readjusting my grip on the gun for no particular reason when I heard an impossible sound. From somewhere came the unpleasant scrape of fingernails scratching something hard, stabbing at my ears.

A complacent person would have wondered if they had heard wrong.

I turned immediately.

Swinging my rifle butt as I did.

'Je-min!'

CRACK!

My rifle butt was blocked.

A soldier. Unit 55? But he hadn't fired a gun.

Most of him looked like any ordinary soldier.

Or would have, if I hadn't seen the name tags plastered horizontally and vertically over the Velcro where his own name tag should be.

Corporal Velcro!

I sidestepped without hesitation.

Those utterly useless bayonet drills fucking paid off at this moment.

CLACK-CLACK, CRACK!

Barrel and rifle butt crossed in an instant. My gun deflected the weight pressing down on it.

My eyes focused solely on the blade gleaming in the sunlight. It was closer to a fingernail than a blade. A disgustingly large, raggedly sharp fingernail curved and swung like a blade.

Plastic and keratin kept colliding on the apartment rooftop.

CRACK, CLACK-CLACK!

Naturally, plastic broke keratin.

When I slammed my rifle butt down, I saw the tip of Corporal Velcro's nail snap with a crunch.

"Shitty fucking manicure."

At that instant, a sound came.

["Listen, listen."]

The sly bird squawked.

["To dodge the nails, throw yourself down!"]

THUMP.

That was when a strange heartbeat came.

My certainty wavered.

He's an Inverted Heart, Stage Two mage. Who knows what bizarre trick he'll pull? Is staying in close combat really the right move?

At that instant, I hurriedly threw myself over the railing.

["Hohohaha!"]

Only after hearing that birdlike laughter once more did I realize it.

He'd used magic.

But I'd known he would use it and let it happen.

I rolled my tongue inside my mouth.

[Cognitive Dissonance].

100%!

At that instant, I became a feather.

Even as the weight of my poncho and equipment pulled me down, even if my falling speed was unchanged, no collision occurred. Instead, the world seemed to sink little by little.

The rooftops of the low buildings, spread like a horizon beneath the clear sky, approached eye level quickly—very quickly.

Of course, I didn't rest during this process either.

CLACK.

With the gun tucked under my arm, I unleashed a reckless barrage.

RATATATAT!

I had no intention of hitting anything.

Instead, I would draw the drones over. Keep the Unit 55 soldiers from firing properly.

I saw soldiers ducking or throwing themselves flat to avoid the hail of bullets, hiding behind vehicles and buildings.

I also saw the pastor and Na-in poking their muzzles out, aiming behind my back.

Two streams of bullets passed one another.

One from above to below. One from below to above.

I was shooting the Unit 55 soldiers on the road; Na-in and the pastor were shooting something behind me. Rather than keep looking at the familiar soldiers, I turned to see what on earth was chasing me. What a sight.

SKRRRRR...

Fingernails had sprouted from a forearm.

Broken metal fragments covered the nails like armor as they scraped down the apartment building's outer wall.

A mage with no helmet or hood, a close-cropped haircut, a gas mask, and his right arm completely exposed.

Corporal Velcro.

Corporal Velcro was descending the outer wall using the enormous fingernail blades growing from his forearm.

SKRRRRRRR!

The nails grew back even when they snapped. He didn't care when blood burst out. Bullets battered his body, but no blood sprayed; he seemed to have added something beneath his uniform.

... Monstrous bastard.

I reached the ground first.

The first thing I did upon landing was change magazines and start shooting the Unit 55 soldiers who were lying flat or hiding. While I dropped the empty magazine onto the road and inserted a fresh one, the enemies couldn't hear my footsteps.

Thanks to the [Silence] inscribed on my combat boots, they noticed me only after I had changed magazines, checked the chamber, and finished pulling back and releasing the bolt.

My mercy was a painless death.

BANG, BANG-BANG!

I was walking confidently along, putting ventilation holes in the three riflemen's heads and chests, when it happened.

BANG!

A gunshot rang out.

But this time, my shoulder hurt as though it were being seared. I glanced over and saw a deep dent in the poncho. It hadn't been penetrated. [Bulletproof] was still working.

But bulletproof didn't mean getting shot wouldn't hurt.

That was a solid hit, and it hurt like fucking hell...!

"Agh, aaagh! Fuck!"

"Baek Je-min, stop fucking around and get to cover!"

I didn't know who was running their mouth, but I obeyed anyway.

SPLAT!

As I flopped down and scurried along like an elegant cockroach, an admiring voice rang out.

"Wow. Holy shit. I thought acting tough was your whole reason for living, but you'll even put up with looking that pathetic?"

Regardless, I instinctively crawled toward safety.

The ones firing freely right now weren't Unit 55. They were Na-in and the pastor!

My judgment was correct.

As I passed between vehicles, flat on my belly, Na-in looked toward me from behind a pile of concrete rubble a short distance away and extended only his hand to give a signal. Did he want to communicate telepathically?

I concentrated. Sure enough.

'Je-min, don't join us.'

'Oh, why?'

'It hurts!!!'

'Fuck... We have to attack from two directions!'

That bastard Shin Na-in must have been so calm because he'd never had bullets hit his bulletproof poncho.

I ground my teeth, but held back, since I felt he might turn his muzzle on me if I approached. As a little reason returned, I realized why. This was a battle of glass cannons. In a firefight, getting wiped out together by an area attack meant the end.

My cool, rational mind transformed me from an elegant cockroach into a cockroach fleeing for its life.

I would move quickly and finish off the two Unit 55 soldiers who had been flanking us.

Moving with that mindset, I could be faster than bullets.

Bullets struck along my trail, or in places I was about to reach.

PING, PING-PING!

The deadly rounds bouncing off the asphalt gave me a thorough demonstration of [Bulletproof]'s performance. My side, thigh, left forearm... Fuck, it hurt like hell. Tears streamed out. Yet even through the tears, my clear-headed reason made me curl up.

Made me hide my feet behind the poncho's hem.

My opponent was aiming at my feet.

If he targeted the feet my poncho couldn't fully cover, I would become a punching bag.

Knowing that, I crouched and duck-walked even while moving, keeping my feet as concealed as possible.

My legs were fucking killing me. It was terrifying to think that even this pain was reduced by Heart, Stage Two.

Then a birdlike voice came through with a crackle of static.

["Listen, listen."]

The Yellow-Bandage Routed Soldier.

["Retreat! Don't give him an easy death. He's a mage. We need to divide his attention!"]

At the same time, Na-in's telepathy reached me.

'Unit 55, the special forces, and the drones are all converging here. Hold on!'

As I entered an alley, I saw two fleeing soldiers.

Sorry. That's how things turned out.

What had to be done had to be done.

I aimed and pulled the trigger in one motion.

Before I felt the recoil, something resembling a lump of shit came flying with a wet squelch.

Instinctively sensing I mustn't touch it, I stepped back. That threw off my aim.

BANG!

The bullet fired into empty air and the echoing gunshot alerted the soldiers. The one waddling along with the flamethrower threw his equipment off altogether. The one with the shotgun tumbled and threw himself over a wall.

The lump of shit that had landed in front of me was a human slime.

I aimed toward where it had come from.

CLACK.

HOOO...

Breathing sounds overlapped through gas masks.

Two mages stood where my muzzle pointed.

A soldier with yellow bandages wrapped around his helmet, a black mask, and sunglasses.

The Yellow-Bandage Routed Soldier.

A soldier wearing only a gas mask on his head, with name tags haphazardly layered over his Velcro, tumor-like pustules swelling on his right forearm, and a fingernail blade twitching idly.

Corporal Velcro.

The birdlike one of the pair, the Yellow-Bandage Routed Soldier, tapped his sunglasses and smiled.

"Aphorism. You're Baek Je-min, right?"

I stopped pulling the trigger and eased off slightly.

"Talk."

"According to monk Cheong-hwi, nobody is as serious about magic as you. We all use it as a means to an end. But someone who pursues magic as an end in itself is comparatively free of the madness it brings. That's why you can reach five branches too. You're a very promising recruitment prospect."

The moment I heard that, I pulled the trigger.

BANG-BANG-BANG!

I wounded one of them.

The Yellow-Bandage Routed Soldier threw himself behind Corporal Velcro, but I hit his left arm.

Corporal Velcro then tore off a pustule and threw it at me.

But I had been fully prepared to shoot and run, and was already diving into the alley.

SPLAT!

That was the sound of the human slime and me hitting the ground.

I hurried to my feet and escaped toward the boulevard, which let me hear the Yellow-Bandage Routed Soldier's amplified voice.

["You fucking... Who the hell shoots someone in the middle of a conversation!"]

Dumbass.

I first took cover behind a fallen sign, then answered his question.

"You moron, why would I join when I can just kill you and take your remains? All the bastards at a higher level than me are in the Society of 66. What would I gain by joining?"

["Fucking asshole. Kill him!"]