Chapter 13 - The Wizards in Ponchos

Honestly, even after the mobilization order was declared, it hadn't really sunk in. The government had dismissed the whole thing as unrest in Seoul without telling us what was actually happening. All I knew was that monsters called Amalgams were running wild.

The fate of the friendly-looking Han Myeong-un still sent chills down my spine, but how could I put it? My encounter with the Amalgam had been so intense and so brief that my mind treated it like a single scene from a horror film. After about four days, a hazy sense that it might actually have been a nightmare had seeped into the memory.

In those circumstances, ironically, what drove home the gravity of the situation wasn't a horde of monsters. It was people.

As soon as we magicians climbed out of the deuce-and-a-half at Suwon Station, we turned to look at the soldiers running around its aboveground platforms. Some were signalmen breaking out in cold sweats as they set down their radios and checked the batteries. Following First Lieutenant Shin Han-gi, we eavesdropped on their transmissions.

"Hwaseong One, this is Paldal Two. Radio check. One, two, three, four, five. Report signal strength, over."

["... This is Hwaseong One. Strength five. Paldal Two, report your situation."]

"Fog visibility around Paldal Two is under three hundred meters. Should we check reception with the other stations too?"

["Received. Check reception and fog visibility, then report back. Maintain the radio net at all times. Out."]

Watching the soldiers hurry through the damp fog that had settled without my noticing finally made it feel real. Only when I saw them unloading ammunition boxes from military trucks and struggling to carry them, loading fuel cans onto armored vehicles, straightening crooked helmets and checking magazines loaded with live rounds with slightly trembling hands did I realize it.

Ah. We were in the middle of a disaster.

With only faint breathing and overlapping footsteps ringing loudly around us, First Lieutenant Shin Han-gi led us to a pile of ammunition boxes. There were more than ammunition boxes there: K2s and M16s, grenades, gas masks, and rain ponchos were stacked alongside them. The sergeant first class in charge glared irritably at him, then sighed and adjusted his helmet.

"You'll have to use the remaining rifles, even if they're in bad condition."

"What about NBC protective suits?"

"We've got none left. They went to the guys at the cordon and the forward stations. Gas masks went to them first too. You'll have to make do with ponchos."

"You heard him, Operators. Please at least put on a poncho."

And so I found myself wearing a rain poncho again—the very thing I'd refused to wear during my military service, preferring to get soaked instead. On active duty, I'd worn a coat-style raincoat or simply carried an umbrella. But the poncho they gave me here was exactly the sort you'd imagine. It boasted a stale stink suggesting it had been left wet and improperly dried to ferment in some storeroom.

The smell seemed capable of pickling not just my uniform but the skin beneath it, and my shoulders felt impossibly heavy. Those days when fatigue piled up even if I did nothing but sit and breathe had returned. Staff Sergeant Lee Se-jun and Corporal Park Se-hyeok must have felt much the same; our expressions were practically identical.

"I didn't even wear a poncho at reserve training."

"... Can't we use umbrellas?"

Only Shin Na-in put on his poncho with relative seriousness, checking his rifle and magazine.

"Chamber check, all clear. Jesus, please guide us."

I found myself following his lead and inspecting my rifle. The differences between the M16 and K2 left me fumbling a little, but Shin Na-in kindly came over and demonstrated, allowing me to handle it without mishap.

"Be careful not to pinch yourself in the hinge."

"You're an ace, Na-in."

"I just give everything my best."

I'd been called dead weight in my unit whenever we weren't doing work details, so the way he handled the K2 so effortlessly made him look like a super ace to me. Seen in that light, spending nearly twenty minutes shitting in the bathroom while listening to hymns and children's church songs seemed like a minor flaw in the otherwise perfect ace that was Shin Na-in.

Once I'd received a gas mask, rifle, magazines, poncho, and even grenades, I felt somewhat reassured. What surprised me was how naturally the doctrinal magicians inspected their gas masks too. Pastor Park Yo-han tilted his head as he puffed air into his mask, while Father Jeong Yong-hwan helped the others tighten their straps. Monk Cheong-hwi already had his on perfectly and had pressed his palms together.

"Huff, huff. It's a bit loose around the chin."

"Open your mouth a little to fill the gap. If nothing else works, that is."

"Oh! You've done your share of gas-chamber training, Father?"

After exchanging a few trivial remarks, we fell silent again. Wearing ponchos with gas masks over our faces, religious practitioners and reservists alike looked like nothing more than people dragged onto a battlefield. Only our eyes distinguished us from one another.

The sole exception was Madam Geulmun, who hadn't put on a gas mask and was glaring sharply at our alteration-type quartet.

"What are you looking at?"

"All right, I'll explain as we go down. Follow me for now."

And so we headed into the subway station. With rifles, magazines, grenades, ponchos, and gas masks, you couldn't tell we were magicians at all. As First Lieutenant Shin Han-gi, now wearing a gas mask himself, guided us toward the underground platform, he began explaining in detail.

"There's been a slight change to the original operational plan. Madam Geulmun will be the key to this operation, which is also why he's not wearing a gas mask."

"Huff, huff... Might I ask what has changed?"

"Yes, of course."

TAP, TAP.

As we descended the stone steps to the platform, we could see soldiers checking the condition of the partition walls.

"Command believes there's a good chance we can block the aboveground tracks with artillery or something similar. But demolition of the subway requires extensive preparation, so blocking it immediately would be difficult. Besides, well... this will let us gather intelligence from inside Seoul and avoid criticism that the operation is inhumane."

Several soldiers saluted him. He waved and jerked his chin for them to carry on, then continued.

"What we believe to be Madam Geulmun's doctrinal magic is spirit sight."

"Spirit sight?"

"He can visually detect the spiritual difference between head-type fusion mimic beasts... Amalgams, and ordinary people, and tell them apart."

At someone's casually tossed-out question, Madam Geulmun folded his arms, gave a haughty, arrogant smile, and snorted.

"Those clingy monster bastards have souls that look different from human ones. I don't say they can't reach heaven, reincarnation, or hell for nothing. Even the Grandmother I serve recoils from them."

"If that's possible, shouldn't you conscript every shaman out there?"

That was probably what all four of us alteration types were thinking, myself included. Even Corporal Park Se-hyeok, who usually did nothing but grumble, nodded ever so slightly in agreement.

Of course, unlike their usual sloppy selves, our proud Armed Forces were being thorough this time.

"The military considers Madam Geulmun's case important and has been politely requesting cooperation from shamans. But everyone with a reputation for genuine spiritual power has fled or gone into hiding. Military police are tracking them down."

For every running soldier, there was a flying shaman. Apparently the good ones had known the military would come for them and fled or hidden in advance. They certainly deserved their reputations.

"Detection through spirit sight, however, provokes aggression in Amalgams. To use it, Madam Geulmun has to look directly at them, without lenses such as glasses or any filters. We've confirmed that during this process, Amalgams display intense hostility toward him."

"How did you find that out?"

"Six members of the Armed Forces died while we were arranging his cooperation in exchange for getting him out of a Restricted-Access Zone."

Now I understood why Madam Geulmun was so prickly and full of complaints. As a gifted shaman who'd gained an ability, he probably wanted to bolt. But he'd made a promise, and couldn't simply stand by while ordinary soldiers died, so he'd apparently thrown in his lot with the military. He was far more upright than I'd expected.

"I'll also explain the alteration-type magicians' abilities. We're in the field now, so there's no longer any need to worry about information contamination."

And so, at last, the magic of our alteration-type quartet was revealed. Shin Na-in had alteration-type magic—the ear branch. Fittingly for someone who habitually listened to hymns, he could randomly hear people's inner voices. With intense concentration, he said, he could hear a peculiar cracking sound that distinguished truth from lies.

"Honesty is essential at times like these."

Shin Na-in smiled and tapped his earphones.

Corporal Park Se-hyeok's alteration-type magic was also of the ear branch. But instead of voices, he could hear people's pulses. He said he could distinguish the heartbeats of Amalgams thought to be inexperienced at imitating human reactions. Recently, however, their mimicry had improved, rendering his ability largely useless.

"Corporal Park Se-hyeok will assist Madam Geulmun with the screening."

"Can't we just shoot them all dead... Fucking hell, they're all fucking monster bastards..."

As he grumbled despite the lieutenant's calm explanation, Staff Sergeant Lee Se-jun poked my shoulder and whispered.

"I asked around about him. He belonged to a unit under Capital Defense Command, somewhere near Geomdan. That unit's already disintegrated, and command has privately written them off as wiped out. I think he's a survivor."

"How did you find that out?"

"I told you I have connections at the cordon. Sounds like they're shooting everyone dead now. They probably brought him in because he can use magic."

Staff Sergeant Lee Se-jun's alteration-type magic was of the heart branch. He'd been assessed as capable of operating at a dramatically enhanced level for about ten minutes without tiring, even when sprinting flat out for nearly thirty seconds or in situations where adrenaline was pumping like mad. Apparently, he had the greatest practical combat capability of any magician present.

"Just look at the military calling me back after rejecting my career-service application."

His resentment toward the military for turning him down ran deep.

Last came me, Baek Je-min.

"Mr. Baek Je-min can see approximately ten seconds into the future through footprints."

I felt the gazes of the doctrinal magicians who hadn't known this change. Father Jeong Yong-hwan, who'd awakened heat detection, seemed especially intrigued. Now we all knew one another's magic... Or so we thought. Suddenly, First Lieutenant Shin Han-gi looked around and frowned.

"But where's Hamza?"

"Hm?"

"Huh? Seriously, where did he go?"

Only then did we realize that Hamza, our turban-wearing honorary Korean, was nowhere to be seen. The lieutenant looked so irritated that we could tell even through his gas mask. Then he sighed and headed toward the subway platform.

"The situation's urgent. We'll find Hamza later."

Hearing that left me with a peculiar feeling. Resentment toward Hamza? Hatred? Anger? Of course not. My thought was simple.

I should have bolted too.

* * *

An uncanny tension gripped the Line 1 subway station at Suwon Station. Seventy-two soldiers had been deployed on the arrival platform. All wore ponchos or gas masks and carried rifles as they hauled benches and other obstacles toward the platform screen doors. Chunks of metal were already being piled neatly on the tracks, but everyone was visibly anxious about when a train might come plowing in.

The officer commanding the scene was a captain named Bae Seol-gi. He alone had his gas mask off, and was checking a radio with his face drenched in sweat.

"Loyalty! Captain Bae Seol-gi, sir. First Lieutenant Shin Han-gi, reporting with the Civilian Operators of Localized Penetrative Alteration Activity. I'll hand over operational command of the Operators."

"That civilian advisory group? The ones who use magic?"

"Yes, sir."

"They can identify those monsters, the Amalgams, for certain?"

Captain Bae Seol-gi didn't even turn around. Crouched beside the radio, he puffed air over it while busily checking cables with the signalman. But no one could deny the firmness in his voice.

"If you can't actually tell them apart, everyone dies. Most of the seventy-two men here were dragged into this, but they stayed instead of running away. If you get them killed for nothing, you won't rest easy even in death. Understand?"

"Yes, sir. I understand."

"Whew... Are you staying here too?"

"I have to head back out to recruit more Civilian Operators. If conditions on the aboveground platform permit, I intend to find people who can read the magic characters."

"All right. Go."

"Loyalty!"

As First Lieutenant Shin Han-gi withdrew, command of us magicians passed to Captain Bae Seol-gi. The captain patted the signalman's shoulder, stood, put on his gas mask, and checked his wristwatch.

"Current time, 3:21 p.m. The first train out of Yongsan Station is reportedly breaking through southern Seoul. Operators, wait with me near the radio and listen to reports from up front. Once the train stops, please screen the refugees."

"Don't worry. You've spoken to the drivers, right?"

At Madam Geulmun's question, Captain Bae Seol-gi nodded wearily.

"When we told them the military had changed its policy and would screen the passengers, they agreed to cooperate. They'll stop on our instructions."

"If people can be saved, saving them is the right thing to do. I'm sure everyone will welcome the military's courageous decision."

"I hope so."

After that, we waited. It was a spectacularly tense wait. We could roughly follow events up front through the radio, since the signalman checked reception almost every two or three minutes. After listening through the crackling static, he would relay the news to Captain Bae Seol-gi in a slightly hoarse voice.

"They've successfully demolished the Gyeongchun Line tracks. The trains were stopped inside the eastern cordon, and they're fortifying a position in Gapyeong."

"What about the trains coming down to Suwon?"

"No word yet."

TICK, TOCK...

Before I knew it, the ticking of Captain Bae Seol-gi's watch was the only sound in the underground platform. Then the signalman listened to a transmission and shouted in a complicated voice, joy, shock, and disillusionment all tangled together.

"Shelling has begun at the track junction near Hwaseo Station. The first train has been confirmed through!"

"Everyone, combat ready! Anyone who gets off without permission is to be shot dead!"

Someone gulped. I could see tension lurking on the faces of Madam Geulmun and Corporal Park Se-hyeok, who would play the biggest roles in the screening.

The platform screen doors had been taped to prevent anyone from getting off at will. Seeing the soldiers behind benches, ready to aim their rifles from cover, made my knees go weak. In that strange silence, an automated announcement began playing through the station.

["A train is approaching. Passengers, please stand behind the safety line..."]

A metallic sound reaches us. Captain Bae Seol-gi gestured hurriedly to the soldiers as he spoke.

"Signalman, the moment they refuse inspection and try to break through, notify command. So they can prepare to shell them."

"Y-yes, sir!"

"Operators, please cover the people conducting the screening."

We magicians gripped our rifles and finished preparing to screen the refugees. Father Jeong Yong-hwan and Pastor Park Yo-han covered the left, while Monk Cheong-hwi stood behind us with palms together, quietly offering something like a prayer. Our alteration-type quartet stood behind Park Se-hyeok, breathing hard and ready to shoulder our rifles.

Our heavy, drawn-out breaths through the gas-mask filters began filling one another's ears.

At last, the moment of truth approached. Break through, or stop. At this fork in fate, which would the first train choose?

Holding my rifle in sweating hands, I fought again and again to stop my index finger from twitching toward the trigger for no reason. Fortunately, the first train began slowing down.

SCREEEECH.

Whether because of the obstacles on the tracks or the military's murderous warnings, the driver chose to stop. As the train gradually halted and we saw the refugees' bedraggled state beyond the screen doors, I felt a strange pity rise among the soldiers alongside their tension. Madam Geulmun was already staring wide-eyed through the windows.

"I'm ready. Let them off one car at a time."

"Fuck... If even one monster's mixed in, we're screwed..."

After confirming that Madam Geulmun and Corporal Park Se-hyeok were ready, Captain Bae Seol-gi contacted the driver by phone and gave his instructions.

"When you open the doors, instruct them to disembark only through 4-3. Anyone who disobeys military instructions will be shot immediately. You've been warned. You should know martial law has already been declared in Seoul, and it may now be extended to southern Gyeonggi. We ask all citizens for their understanding so that order can be maintained."

The bizarre situation of a mobilization order being declared without a war still had the citizens of the Republic of Korea, the government, and the Armed Forces floundering. Still, the passengers seemed to understand the lethal warning. A commotion erupted inside the train, then quickly subsided. Instead, through the windows, we saw people jamming together as they tried to move toward 4-3.

Seeing this, Captain Bae Seol-gi contacted the driver again.

"Tell them not to bunch up. It makes them vulnerable to head-type fusion mimic beasts. Command's policy authorizes us to shoot everyone here dead if they fail to evacuate in an orderly fashion."

["Y-yes. I'll relay that..."]

As the announcement played, some refugees went wild, and their murmurs rumbled through the windows. But we could see a relative semblance of order returning. In the end, with rifles trained on 4-3, disembarkation began by using the emergency controls to open the platform screen doors. Several people tried to rush out, but slunk back inside when the soldiers glared at them over menacingly aimed rifles.

"Load live rounds."

With Captain Bae Seol-gi's cold declaration, the military prepared for slaughter. Only after the sounds of magazines being inserted and bolts cycling filled the station did one panel of the screen doors open.

4-3.

The refugees who disembarked there in small, orderly groups were the ordinary people we knew. Their pupils were dilated by all the horrors they'd endured, but even as their bodies trembled with the desire to live, they stepped onto the marble alongside their families. Madam Geulmun and Corporal Park Se-hyeok glared at them as if ready to kill them, then sighed in relief.

"These five are fine. Let them through."

"... Tsk."

Unable even to offer thanks, the refugees retreated toward the platform stairs under the soldiers' fearsome scrutiny. Then, as though their legs had given out, they slumped onto the steps and began sobbing silently.

"Next five."

At the very moment Captain Bae Seol-gi issued that dry instruction, an urgent voice came through the radio the signalman was monitoring.

["Following train has broken through Hwaseo Station! Refusing orders to slow down!"]

["Attempt to derail it failed... It's heading for Suwon Station!"]

["Paldal Zero! Paldal Zero!"]

"Th-this is Paldal Zero."

["Fall back!"]

DING-DING-DING-DING.

The mechanical announcement began playing on the platform once more. I reflexively raised my head toward the information display and saw a train racing from the previous station at a terrifying speed.

["A train is approaching. Passengers, please..."]

At that moment, Captain Bae Seol-gi gave the most urgent order of his life.

"Get down!"

The floor was rumbling. As the stone floor shook, my heart seemed to reverberate with it. With a heavy vibration humming through my entire body, I found myself staring at the train. Then I saw fog creeping upward from below.

The roar of a beast made of metal shook the entire tunnel as it hurtled toward the refugees beyond the screen doors, who hadn't grasped what was happening.

CRASH!

It was a simple collision sound. Except that it was powerful enough to shake my eardrums and everything inside my head. It took only an instant for that sound to twist into something horrible.

A metallic shriek, far sharper and thinner than fingernails scraping a chalkboard, mingled with the sound of people bursting apart and swept across the tracks, carrying a thick, bloody stench. Images of people vanishing in an instant between crumpling train cars flashed past like a life flashing before my eyes.

Naturally, the platform screen doors weren't strong enough to withstand that impact. Before long, the buckling, crushing cars were forced toward the platform, and blue sparks began flying everywhere.

Without realizing it, I'd pulled my poncho over myself and flung my body aside, landing on my backside. I watched the people where I'd been standing get crushed beneath the crumpling cars or thrown away. Even that lasted only a moment.

The platform's stone tiles ground apart, sending up clouds of concrete dust. My gas-mask filter clogged almost instantly, leaving me gasping. Through the mask, the world was a mixture of gray dust and fog in which I couldn't distinguish anything. Soon, my ears could no longer hear properly either.

EEEEEEE.

A strange ringing filled my ears. Instead of human voices, it seemed that only metallic noise kept reverberating. Amid it all, gunshots crackled faintly like beans popping in a pan.

BANG! BANG-BANG-BANG!

With intense dizziness came a sticky sensation in my ear. When I touched it, I found a thick fluid running out. Only after bringing my hand right up to the nose of my gas mask did I realize it was blood.

Fortunately, sound gradually returned before long. But with it came the sounds of shadows tangling together beyond the dust cloud.

["... Fall back! Fall back!"]

At the static-laced voice from the radio, I barely managed to get up. Only one thought came to mind.

I had to run.

Just as I instinctively began turning toward where the stairs had been, the sprinklers activated and started soaking everything. Feeling my eyes burn hot, I stared into the fog. It parted, revealing strange footprints.

The future, ten seconds from now.

Waiting beyond them was Father Jeong Yong-hwan.

I ran without hesitation. Fighting here, engulfed in dust, would be suicide. As I raced toward the stairs, I found Father Jeong Yong-hwan already struggling to his feet, emitting a strange light.

"Mr. Baek Je-min, get behind me!"

The moment I saw the light pouring from both his arms, I understood. Reception of the Eucharist. Trusting in that magic, I ran up the steps and moved behind him, then immediately aimed over his shoulder. His torn cassock exposed his bare forearms. Human faces came pouring down onto them. The sight sent chills through me, but Father Jeong Yong-hwan crossed his arms and pushed the faces back.

But in the future ten seconds from now, the faces would split lengthwise to either side to engulf him. Their mass would thin as they split, though. I fired at the places where the fog parted, where the splitting faces were aiming—the points I could see clearly even through the fog and dust.

BANG! BANG-BANG!

Heavy recoil slammed into my shoulder, but the damage to that fucking monster was negligible. Seeing ten seconds into the future and calculating a ten-second time lag before firing was insanely difficult. Yet it must have been chillingly frightening to the Amalgam. When one side of its face was hit, it let out a hideous cry through its fused vocal cords and fled into the fog.

WAAAAAAARGH!!!

When its vocal cords resonated as one, it sounded like a wind instrument. Like a heavy wind instrument laying down a low bass note, the monster's vocal cords poured out a dreadful scream as it vanished beyond the cloud of fog. But Father Jeong Yong-hwan and I had survived.

As even the acrid gunsmoke disappeared into the fog and gray dust, Father Jeong Yong-hwan looked back at me and began scrambling breathlessly up the stairs.

"Let's get somewhere clear of this dust first!"

"What about the others?"

"They're pouring out back there!"

He didn't have to say what was pouring out. And the aftermath of the impact began sweeping across the entire platform. The flickering lights went out, and red emergency lights began switching on instead. It was obvious that even those would soon be swallowed by the fog rising from underground.

Feeling the heat from my scorching rifle muzzle, I followed Father Jeong Yong-hwan. A siren blared through the station's announcement system.

["Underground platform breached. Underground platform breached. All personnel, prepare to seal access. Survivors are to proceed aboveground as quickly as possible..."]