Chapter 33 - Baek Je-min’s Original Sin

Hamza volunteered to clean up the vomit spilled in the very center of the makeshift chapel.

“Cleaning, cleaning~.”

The turban-wearing honorary Korean began diligently mopping, humming a tune with utterly mangled pitch and rhythm.

Meanwhile, I wiped my mouth with a wet wipe and talked with the other Supreme Mages.

I desperately wanted to keep what I knew to myself, but a cold-eyed awareness that I wouldn’t accomplish much by agonizing over it alone helped me share the knowledge.

Now I understood why wizards in novels tried to hide everything. It wasn’t even anything special, but I simply didn’t want to tell anyone. I didn’t want to tell other people what I knew!

But I, Baek Je-min, overcame this evil wizard’s nature through my carefully cultivated goodness and altruism.

Thanks to that, we Supreme Mages could puzzle over tongue-branch magic together now that everyone knew about it. Pastor Park Yo-han looked the most troubled of the lot. With his arms folded, he began stroking his chin and heaving sigh after sigh.

“Demotion... Magic that reduces a spell that can only be recited in the language of gods or monsters so it can be spoken in human language?”

“Does that give you any ideas?”

“No. I’m thinking it’s heretical as hell. I want to burn every scrap of material I have right now.”

Apparently, our pastor had focused on something other than marveling at the mysteries of magic.

Pastor Park Yo-han removed his glasses, rubbed his eyelids, and let out one lament after another. For now, our alteration-type trio decided to wait for the thoughts of the pastor and monk, who at least had some education in the subject.

“A vision that sees the past, present, and future all at once. In increments of seconds... If it’s that powerful even after demotion, it’s more than a human can bear.”

“It serves the same function as Buddhist scriptures. You could say it serves a similar function to the Gospels of Christianity’s Brahma faith.”

“What are you talking about, you fake monk?”

“Buddhas, gods, and prophets do not ordinarily leave writings of their own.”

With an unhurried gesture, monk Cheong-hwi calmed everyone and offered his thoughts.

Demotion, he said, could be another way of expressing interpretation.

“Shakyamuni Buddha left spoken teachings during his lifetime, but never any writings. Jesus, the holy figure of Christianity, likewise did not write any Gospels himself. Both the Buddhist scriptures and the Gospels of Brahma that survive today passed through the hands of their disciples.”

“Are you questioning the inerrancy of the Bible? You, a fake monk?”

“Neither Buddhist scriptures nor the Bible yield their profound meanings merely by being read. Is that not why interpretations give rise to different methods of practice, and why Christianity itself is divided?”

Finding myself suddenly subjected to a theological debate, I could not have been less interested.

The pastor and monk picked up on the mood and returned to the original topic: their views and conjectures on tongue-branch magic. Here, they both agreed.

“No wonder the journal called tongue-branch magic the most dangerous. Acceptance and change can produce very different results depending on their order, and deciding what to accept and how to change is an incredibly complex process with countless possibilities. In other words... it’s far more dangerous than the alteration-type magic we already know. It’s hard to determine whether there even is a prescribed answer.”

“Perhaps this alteration-type magic system is some sort of system of spiritual practice. Occult arts are originally meant to achieve union with the divine through cultivation and practice, so if alteration-type magic was built on some philosophical foundation, that would naturally be the case. If alteration-type magic has relied on the practitioner’s intuition and instincts thus far, I believe this may imply that knowledge and understanding are required from this point onward.”

But monk Cheong-hwi took it a step further.

Quietly pressing his palms together, he looked over our alteration-type trio before sharing his conjecture.

“This is still only my own deduction... but do you remember what Mr. Baek Je-min said some time ago?”

He began explaining with slow gestures.

Human spiritual energy was the very act of the uniquely human consciousness and self concentrating or thinking, or the power to subdue bodily instincts through those acts.

Science often classified this as reason, but various religions and occult systems that emphasized spiritual practice shared the idea of overcoming bodily instincts to cultivate composure and will. Viewed in that light, human faith naturally belonged to this category of spiritual energy as well.

“The individual self prevailing and standing wholly on its own, unbound by environment or innate nature. Or pursuing a state free from the influence of external factors, ultimately seeking union with the divine. In a sense, this is common to all religions and occult systems. The left-hand path holds that, because what is above and below are fundamentally the same, one can ascend. The right-hand path holds that, because what is above and below are the same, they can become one. The basic premise is that if humans can subdue their own flesh through will, a stronger will can also manipulate the world, which is stronger matter.”

In this regard, the alteration-type magic system belonged to the classic left-hand path.

It tended to pursue changes in the individual practitioner rather than the orthodox approach of valuing religious precepts and social conventions to achieve union with the cosmic order represented by divine providence.

The monk conjectured that alteration-type magic likely had a similar framework to the internal alchemy of Eastern Daoism, in which Daoists sought transcendence by cultivating themselves through alchemy and internal-energy breathing methods.

He added, however, that even Daoism sought union with nature, making it closer to the right-hand path. Various occult systems in Western esotericism likewise fundamentally sought union with the divine, whereas alteration-type magic was remarkably different, demanding greater caution.

He could not elaborate without knowing this occult system’s philosophical and ideological foundations, but explained that he had reached this conclusion because the magic activated through human suffering alone, without any particular ritual or incantation.

“If we consider only how it assists the individual practitioner’s cultivation, it appears close to the right-hand path. Yet its ability to activate magic that influences others through the practitioner’s suffering alone brings it closer to heterodox left-hand arts. That it nevertheless relies on no external factors such as talismans or incantations is deeply concerning. Given that tongue-branch magic symbolizes human adaptability, acceptance, and change, and that warnings about its side effects continue to emerge, we must approach it more cautiously.”

The reason for this torrent of lengthy explanations was simpler than I had expected.

Noticing all the eyes fixed on me, I opened mine wide and faced them down.

“Are you all worried I’ll secretly use magic this dangerous, with such severe side effects, that shouldn’t be handled carelessly, whenever I feel like it?”

“...”

“It’s me. Baek Je-min.”

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

I pounded my own chest and resolutely looked around at our Supreme Mages.

Even Hamza stopped mopping to watch as I reassured them with confidence.

“I won’t use it in secret.”

At that moment, Shin Na-in approached with Lee Se-jun and laid a hand on my shoulder.

“Je-min, I can hear you. Since you say you’ll openly use it somewhere no one can see, Se-jun and I will watch over you.”

“...”

“In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ. United beneath Him, so that no one is alone. Amen!”

* * *

March 12, 2028.

About eleven days had passed.

During that time, my military scrip had dropped back down to fourteen units, even including the emergency funds I’d saved earlier. I had spent fifty units on the AR-15 I’d been eyeing for ages.

First Lieutenant Shin Han-gi at the military gear shop seemed to have become a full-fledged salesman. He handed over my new gun with a bright smile and demonstrated everything: how to load it, how to hold it, its construction, and how to disassemble and reassemble it.

“You don’t have to return your issued K2, and it uses the same ammunition anyway, so you can just pick some up from supply. All that’s left is customizing it to your taste!”

“You charge military scrip for all the attachments too.”

“Of course. Even ROK special forces buy their gun attachments out of their own salaries. You think we’d issue them to civilians?”

That stinginess with supplies was so typical of our armed forces that I found it oddly reassuring.

Until now, I’d almost wondered whether this was the military I knew at all. Even with the world ending, having at least one thing that never changed was heartwarming. Once I tightened the sling they’d thrown in as a freebie on my sexy new gun, I felt much more at ease.

There was something I simply couldn’t accept, though, and neither First Lieutenant Shin Han-gi nor the AR-15 was to blame.

“I’d like a noise-canceling headset, please.”

“Hmm... Can a heart-branch mage use a gun with heavy recoil?”

Shin Na-in and Lee Se-jun would not leave me alone.

Instead of using his military scrip to boost his firepower, Na-in bought a headset. Se-jun browsed the guns before firmly shaking his head and returning empty-handed.

Without thinking, I asked Lee Se-jun, the empty-handed man,

“What are you saving your scrip for? Don’t tell me you’re going to save a hundred and run away?”

If he was dreaming of becoming Suwon’s first runaway mage after all his bullshit about loyalty, I intended to rip his heart out right then and there.

He’d have to leave the magic behind!

Fortunately, though, Lee Se-jun wasn’t such a soft, weak man.

“No, Je-min. Just what do you take me for?”

“Then what are you saving it for?”

“Have you ever seen that revolver they say can drop a bear in one shot? In YouTube videos or something?”

Looking a little excited, Se-jun raised his phone and showed me several pictures from his gallery.

I hadn’t been particularly interested, since I figured a bear would die from a bullet in the head anyway. Only when I saw the pictures did I get a shock.

“What is this, Se-jun? A blunt weapon?”

“It’s called the S&W 500. Just a fucking powerful revolver. An ordinary person couldn’t possibly use it, even someone with training. An ordinary person, that is...”

At that moment, Se-jun and I truly met each other’s eyes for the first time.

When a hunger for magic met a hunger for firepower, we finally understood each other completely.

I humbly admitted that I had thought far too little of the man named Lee Se-jun.

At the same time, a wellspring of friendship left me no choice but to support his endeavor.

“I pray for heart-branch mage Lee Se-jun’s boundless advancement.”

“I’m not used to hearing praise like that from you, Je-min. It’s a little embarrassing.”

That was when Shin Na-in, the idiot-branch mage, approached.

Apparently pleased with his new headset, he beamed, then tapped it as he spoke.

“You heretical wretches, it’s time to train in the alteration-type holy-war arts bestowed upon us by the Lord.”

At some point, this bastard had started dressing up the alteration-type magic system as alteration-type holy-war arts, refusing to admit even under pain of death that he hadn’t awakened doctrinal magic.

But saying that aloud would undoubtedly shatter our unspoken truce and set him off, so I chose practical, rational silence.

Through the silence of one man—me—our alteration-type trio could enjoy peace.

We headed for the makeshift chapel, now used as a laboratory. It was clear that the past eleven days of practice had benefited each member of the trio.

Rather than rushing into missions, we had focused on deepening our understanding of alteration-type magic through occult knowledge and repeated mental cultivation.

First came the striking progress of heart-branch mage Lee Se-jun, who had lagged furthest behind.

He had even gone all the way to Pyeongtaek separately to undergo examinations and find out just what advantages the heart branch offered. Ever since returning, he had been visibly puffed up with pride.

He was busy pretending to flex his biceps and grinning like an idiot.

“Eyes, ears, hands... Isn’t real magic something that actually helps in everyday life?”

“Our human catapult has really grown up.”

“Once all the monsters are dead, I win. Just you wait.”

The true worth of heart-branch magic lay in its modest but reliable benefits.

Technically, it was an always-active ability. Rather than having dynamic, powerful effects like the ears, eyes, or hands, it helped in small ways.

Heart Branch, Stage One: highly efficient metabolism. That was why he didn’t tire even after sprinting flat out for over thirty seconds. Moreover, though it seemed to have limits, the magic could grow.

Heart Branch, Stage Two: enhanced physical capabilities. Apparently, his muscle density, respiratory capacity, the efficiency of various organs, and resistance to aging had all begun to improve markedly. The closest comparison I could think of was the cleansing of marrow and sinews in martial arts fiction.

Its effects were less conspicuous, but modest and reliable.

Considering that Se-jun had originally been a staff sergeant, he must have possessed a certain level of physical fitness already. Heart-branch magic was closer to forcibly raising the innate limits of those physical capabilities.

After learning this, Se-jun had started pumping iron and focusing on improving his strength. His goal was to use that increased strength to move around with powerful firearms and grind monsters into pulp with bullets.

Na-in, on the other hand, had strayed a little instead of specializing in his own branch.

The bastard had accepted a mission on his own initiative and come back after awakening eye-branch magic in the fog. His zeal for learning, which had taken him alone all the way to the first cordon, actually made me ashamed of myself.

“If you see ten seconds into the future, Je-min, I’ll see one hour into the past. I must hone it further.”

“What good is seeing the past? What matters to people is the present and the future.”

Na-in had attained Eye Branch, Stage One.

His was past sight rather than future sight. Se-jun kissed the biceps hidden beneath his combat uniform and looked down on him. If I’d been Na-in, I would have punched the insufferable bastard in the face.

But Na-in simply pressed his palms together with a humble smile and shook his head.

“The sin of heresy can only be washed away by repentance and conversion to true faith. Think about it. If you could expose every sin someone had committed, how easy would it be to bring them to the Lord?”

That was when I remembered once again that Na-in was an ear-branch mage.

Ear Branch, Stage One: mind reading. Na-in indiscriminately heard the voices in the minds of nearby people twenty-four hours a day. When he concentrated, he could listen only to the sounds he wanted.

Ear Branch, Stage Two: identifying monster sounds. As if that weren’t enough, he could distinguish monsters even in disguise by hearing their instinctive inner cries. It wasn’t quite spirit sight, as used by mages who had been shamans, but his detection might be better in that it didn’t draw aggro.

Why would someone like him be pleased with past sight?

Shuddering at how terrifying Na-in was, I couldn’t help recalling the most wicked sin I’d ever committed. At once, he looked at me and scowled fiercely.

“Mr. Baek Je-min, you defecated in a urinal in elementary school, then played dumb and left it to whoever was on cleaning duty? You were a truly vile person. Repent. When Judgment Day comes, the Lord God will place you on His left!”

“All the toilet stalls were closed! I couldn’t shit myself on the floor! I was being considerate!!!”

I’d wondered why this shitting bastard, who sat on the toilet for twenty minutes at a time listening to hymns and controlling his sphincter, was so damn irritating. It was because of that awful childhood memory.

Shitting bastards like him had forced me to foul the urinal, making both me and the innocent kid on cleaning duty suffer.

I looked to Se-jun for sympathy, but he had long since discreetly distanced himself from both Na-in and me.

With no other choice, I reflected on what I had learned while using Na-in’s demands for repentance as background music.

Tongue-Branch Magic, Stage One: Demotion.

My conjecture was that mages used different magic because they couldn’t utilize one hundred percent of its capabilities. Individual aptitude functioned, for instance, like the aperture of an old camera.

Magic itself was originally broad-ranging and powerful. My theory was that individual practitioners could not bring all of it to bear because of their poor understanding and the limits of their species, using only a portion according to their innate talents.

Demotion was the power to manipulate that aperture freely.

My Eye Branch, Stage One—seeing ten seconds into the future—had changed into seeing all of the past, present, and future.

All because I had said the single word “Time.”

Tongue-Branch Magic, Stage One could therefore be regarded as a sort of zeroing-in magic: focusing how this powerful magic would be used, making it more precise and producing the effect the practitioner wanted.

This zeroing-in tended to grow more accurate when words were given in order from broader meanings to narrower ones.

Time was one example.

Time. A word that often encompassed past, present, and future alike. But after saying “Time,” if I chose the past from among those three, I became able to use past sight, which I had originally been unable to do.

Naturally, merely saying “Time—past” took me all the way back four billion years to the age of boiling magma. It was a kind of prompting, or exactly like giving instructions to a moronic employee.

I had to give perfectly precise instructions, without the slightest deviation, to get the result I wanted.

Thus, to properly use Tongue Branch, Stage One, I had to say this:

Time, past, one hour, me.

Then I heard gears meshing in my head, and the scene before my eyes changed.

CLICK, CLICK, CLICK...

Just as an eye doctor switched between different lenses to check what I saw, the view before me changed each time I stated a filtering condition. Saying “Time” made me see past, present, and future simultaneously, inducing vomiting, so I had to quickly say “Past.”

And as soon as I said “Past,” I couldn’t forget to quickly specify a time frame before I went hurtling back through evolutionary history to see the Cretaceous or Jurassic.

Finally, unless I mentioned a specific subject, it showed a different time at my current location. Looking at other people wasn’t easy.

Locations, however, could be viewed remotely if they were nearby.

I wasn’t proposing my one-hundred-percent magic theory for nothing.

Eye Branch, Stage One wasn’t merely future sight.

The original capability of Eye Branch, Stage One was magic that let you see whatever you wanted to see. Not only the past, present, and future, but places hundreds of meters or several kilometers away—possibly even the opposite side of a continent.

If you paid a sufficient price.

Naturally, the more I increased this precision, and the farther what I wanted to see was from me in the here and now, the greater the magical backlash became.

POP!

The papillae bearing my taste buds split, seeping dark red blood. In some places, blood actually spurted up as though a blister had burst. Naturally, it hurt like fucking hell. Dipping my tongue in chili oil would have felt cooler than this.

I released the magic immediately and cried with my dripping, bloody tongue sticking out.

My manly vow to cry only at my parents’ funeral had long since been utterly shattered by a tongue that felt as though it had been sliced with a blade.

“Uhhuhhuhh... Uhh... Ahh, ohh, ahh...”

“Aagh! That’s fucking disgusting! Shit, Je-min, just put your tongue back in your mouth!”

“Uh... Uhh, uh...”

“Ugh, fuck.”

Grumbling, Se-jun handed me the plastic bottle of water he was holding.

I hastily poured water over my tongue to wash it, then drew it back into my mouth and thought through the tears streaming from the stinging pain.

If Eye Branch, Stage One was already this bad, what would happen if I used Tongue Branch, Stage One—Demotion—to bring out Eye Branch, Stage Two’s original capabilities?

I’d die.

The manly Baek Je-min might die of shock from the pain of his tongue bursting.

Because I, Baek Je-min, was a great man of more dauntless spirit than anyone, I was prepared to let out a resounding scream the instant I felt pain.

While I spent a good while swishing water around to cool my tongue and tasting metal, Na-in clicked his tongue and put in his earphones.

“Je-min, take it easy. The pastor asked me to tell you someone’s coming from Pyeongtaek tomorrow.”

“Whuh foh?”

Another advantage of Na-in was that he understood me perfectly even when my speech was a little slurred.

“Yes. A mystic impressed by our accomplishments and achievements is coming in person to impart knowledge.”

I panted, sticking out my tongue with its mixture of saliva, water, and blood.

A real mystic was coming, not frauds like us?

Meaning...

Those people who split twenty-five into two and five, then add them together?

I couldn’t help feeling dubious.

Sure, the world had ended, but to think we Supreme Mages would have to rely on such sinister, bizarre researchers!