Chapter 67 - With Cruncher

Olympic Bridge was far longer and wider than we had imagined. I regretted ever thinking, How wide could a river possibly be? Even as I ran with my eyes fixed ahead, I could see the sky above the concrete buildings jutting up beyond the far end of the bridge.

Under the dazzlingly clear sunshine, that sky was packed with monsters and billowing black smoke.

Clouds of black smoke rose in layer upon layer, like pottery shaped from clay by a craftsman. Through smoke so thick that merely approaching it seemed enough to coat my lungs in soot, I caught glimpses of monsters floating and gliding in swarms, thin membranes spread as wings.

That was where we had to go.

That heavy truth rode the soles of my combat boots as they struck the asphalt. With every step, my vision and breathing shook together. Not the sound of our footsteps, but the weight transmitted through our soles—that was our reality.

If I lost even that sensation, I felt I would lose my grip on reality altogether. That was how surreal the scenery around Olympic Bridge had become.

Each time my soles took the weight of my whole body, a heavy vibration passed through my lower belly. Beyond the gas-mask lenses scored by my efforts to scrape off the Amalgam, the brilliant afternoon clung to the edges of my vision.

Sky-centipedes spread dozens of pairs of wing joints, unfurling vein-covered membranes to glide after fighter jets. Swarms of Skin-jellyfish clustered thicker and heavier than rain-bearing storm clouds, even as shells and bombs smashed and crushed them. The monsters' cries were loud enough to make the cables supporting the enormous bridge tremble.

Strangely, drowsiness washed over me in the midst of all this. My eyelids drifted shut, my vision dimmed, and the sweet pull of sleep diluted those terrible sensations like a drug.

The first things to fade were the sharp, acrid smell of gunpowder and the nauseating stink of burning corpses that had pierced my nose despite the [Purification] inscription inside my gas mask. The lenses, marred by knife cuts and countless other scratches, clouded over as though fogged with condensation.

As I staggered under the weight of my backpack and the gun slung over my shoulder, a gentle voice whispered in a corner of my mind.

'If you're sleepy, you can sleep. If you're breathing hard, stop and slowly catch your breath. If you're tired, just close your eyes.'

A warm, pleasant languor enveloped my whole body, as though I had soaked in a hot bath.

That was when the deferred pain rushed back into my tongue and eyes, which adrenaline and terror had numbed. Because I had let go of every sensation, even pain I thought I had grown accustomed to surged back anew.

The stinging agony of a tongue sliced into strips, the foul sensation of eyes kneaded by plastic gloves covered in fish scales, the searing heat spreading from the wounds in my hand—all of it pressed relentlessly against my nerves and screamed.

At last, my sense of reality returned.

The sky raining scraps of flesh with every explosion. The abandoned vehicles on Olympic Bridge, their bloodstains, the crushed pieces of meat smeared across them. The mingled stench of sewage, blood, rot, and burning protein assailing my nose. The rubber of my gas mask, damp with tears and sweat, adhering snugly to my face.

I felt it all vividly. I even realized that my hands and feet were trembling, my arms and legs shaking.

Then the burning pain in my chest made it impossible to keep running. Pain brought me to a halt—and pulled me back into reality.

HUFF, HUFF, HUFF, HUFF.

As I gulped down air and my head cleared a little, the conclusion came quickly.

I had been in danger. My mind had nearly collapsed. Without the assorted pains clinging to this body, I would have succumbed to sleep and fallen. It hadn't been genuine sleepiness or exhaustion making me drowsy.

My weak mind, unable to accept reality, had tried to close my eyes and escape.

The instant I realized that, I slashed my left palm with the bayonet without hesitation.

SLASH!

"Je-min! What are you doing all of a sudden?!"

I heard Lee Se-jun's startled voice, but I had no time to think about it.

Feeling the blood run from my left hand, I clenched it into a fist. Until now, I had focused solely on eye magic, with its severe backlash.

But had the archmage Baek Je-min learned nothing except eye magic?

Some spells remained effective even without fog. Finding substitutes for eye magic and its punishing penalties was surely another virtue of a mage. Now was the time.

PATTER!

Savoring the sensation of blood spilling along the creases of my palm, I rolled my tongue inside my mouth.

Upright Alteration-Type Tongue, Stage One: [Demotion].

This magic demoted nonhuman language into human language. It also helped magic perform at 100% of its potential.

Then it should work for enchantments too.

Until now, I had avoided it out of concern for the backlash, out of fear of pain. There was no longer any reason to hesitate.

With my blood-soaked left hand, I inscribed [Cutting] over the bayonet. The [Blood of the Left Hand] coating its blade seeped in like a drop of water sucked into a sponge. It looked like an optical illusion, but it was real. This was plainly different from a bloodstain drying into an extremely thin scab.

The steel had absorbed the blood.

This was an extreme situation. I activated Hand, Stage Two, [Blood of the Left Hand] at 100%, enchanted the weapon, and tested its performance.

I ought to enchant the other Supreme Mages' equipment too, but my cold reason immediately rejected the idea.

This hurts like fucking hell, and you want me to do more?

It was enough that I knew how.

With pain like scissors snipping through my tongue bringing a few tears to my eyes—quite a few—I spoke.

"Ahh."

Because I had stopped to do something stupid out of nowhere, Cruncher had gotten rather too close. Our breathing was harsh inside our gas masks.

HUFF, HUFF, HUFF.

While the Supreme Mages paused to pant for breath, a strange sound swept a chill across the backs of our necks.

It was the clacking of teeth, the sort of sound a thoughtless young grandchild might make playing castanets with dentures Grandma had briefly taken out. A cadence made of teeth struck our ears, with no beat, no rhythm, and no one to delight in it.

CLACK-CLACK-CLACK-CLACK!

In that moment, we were all children in a fairy tale. Without anyone needing to say a word, we Supreme Mages moved our newly heavy legs and started running again.

With collapsing car roofs, noisily crumpling hoods, and those dental castanets playing the role of whoever was It, all we could do was run.

It was a grotesque game of tag.

We were playing with a monster a game we had never so much as glanced at since smartphones, computers, and a wealth of other diversions came along.

Monsters and missiles flew overhead. Fragments of flesh fell into the Han River, sending up sprays of water. Amid countless silhouettes stirring inside the vehicles abandoned along the road, we desperately swallowed our rising breaths back down at the roots of our tongues.

But we couldn't simply ignore the monsters stirring inside the abandoned vehicles, ready to spring out.

I rolled my tongue inside my mouth.

Target, evade, fatal injury, five minutes, route, Supreme Mages.

Pain surged in. Faced with a sting fierce enough to send tears streaming down my face, I realized once again that courage and a sense of duty meant nothing.

Until now, I had tried to ration the pain of magical backlash, spending it strategically out of concern for my body's limits. Naturally—I hated pain, and too much of it could kill me.

Fuck, I wasn't some kind of masochist.

Yet here I was, willingly hurting myself over and over, reveling in the pain. In one corner of my heart, I was even laughing with joy, however bleak that laughter might be.

The satisfaction of learning and developing magic?

Of course, that was part of it. But the greatest reason was fear.

I hated pain. I didn't want to die in agony. If I could die peacefully without pain, perhaps I might accept it.

But what awaited me was not an ending. It was the beginning of an eternity.

BANG!

I saw Amalgams burst out along with doors ripped from their hinges.

Four of them.

At the same time, red footprints stretched out and reached me. The vast six-lane road was covered in them, looking as though it had been painted bright red.

They were small Amalgams that had eaten no more than ten humans each, but I knew how strong they became in sunlight. I couldn't let my guard down.

To keep my guard up, I gave everything I had. I poured out even the spells I had hesitated to use until now, afraid of pain, afraid their price might be permanent disability.

Instead of turning away from the pain already wrapped around my entire body, I chose to feel it with meticulous attention.

I rolled my tongue inside my mouth.

Upright Alteration-Type Tongue, Stage One: [Demotion].

I strengthened Eye, Stage Two with [Demotion].

Upright Alteration-Type Eye, Stage Two: [Cognitive Distortion].

My pain was longer and more absolute than any age in the world...

A combination I had never used for fear of the backlash.

I used it now, here.

TAAAP.

The sound of my combat boot striking asphalt felt unusually prolonged. The shellfire that had been loud enough to deafen me moments before stopped all at once. The Supreme Mages' harsh breathing and the dental castanets stopped with it.

Had I stopped time?

Unfortunately, I hadn't reached that far.

But the agony that had made me drool, cry, leak snot, and secretly piss myself a little had been worth it.

The burning nerve pain climbing my left forearm. The itch as though my retinas had been scrubbed with sandpaper. The raw sting in my hands from repeated stabs and cuts. The pressure of a heart pounding fit to burst with violent movement. The desperation of lungs burning hot because I couldn't breathe properly. All of it had meaning.

No one's movements, no one's perceptions could keep up with me. Everything moved, but infinitely slower than I did.

Only my time, my perception, captive to pain, moved this body freely.

Only after I had taken ten steps did I hear the footfall of my first. Only when I was right in front of an Amalgam did its frightened eyes roll toward my second step, toward the spot where that footprint lay.

And only when I swung my bayonet and cut through a dozen pairs of forearms and the faces fused to their tendons did the monster's time begin to catch up with mine.

CHOP!

The tangled compound and simple eyes tilted toward me as I swung the bayonet—slowly, still slowly, but faster than the others.

Beyond the sensation of sticky chewing gum, I felt tough human tendons resist the blade slightly before snapping, the sensation traveling through my fingers. My mind would never forget how the tip scraped bone and slid out through skin.

SLASH!

I didn't want to forget.

Right now, I was tasting omnipotence.

CHOP, CHOP, CHOP, CHOP...

The bayonet inscribed with [Cutting] through enhanced [Blood of the Left Hand] produced astonishing results. Normally, bone would have stopped it, or an accidental stab into even slightly tough muscle would have left it lodged and impossible to pull out. With [Cutting] inscribed, even a complete amateur like me could swing carelessly and sever the fibers.

I saw hands and feet hanging in ragged strips or flying through the air in severed chunks beneath my blade. Watching an Amalgam's chopped hands begin to shift out of alignment before blood could spurt from them filled me with ecstasy.

And rage.

SLASH!

After cutting off a plump, stubby arm as well, I transferred the bayonet to my left hand. Then I reached out with my right and firmly pinched the belly fat of a corpulent middle-aged man—an easy part of the Amalgam's body to grab.

With [Blood of the Right Hand] smeared thickly over my right hand, I could pinch the face fused to that belly fat with enough force to nearly crush it.

This power. This omnipotence.

Being unable to reach this power was hell.

Amid my rising anger, within the time granted to me alone, I shouted.

"Cruncher, time to eat!"

I dragged the Amalgam along and hurled it behind the Supreme Mages.

At 100%, [Cognitive Distortion] enhanced by Tongue, Stage One was precisely the magic I had dreamed of. I could easily throw even a monster whose mass should have made that impossible.

The price?

Honestly, I was scared shitless. Power this great would surely come at an enormous cost.

But it was better than being cast into hell.

Before my pain-sensing mind could grow dull, I treated the other Amalgams the same way. Chop, slice, confirm the terror in the monster's eyes, then grab it and throw it behind me.

Watching them drift through the air over the car roofs gave me a little insight into how a school lunch lady felt.

I managed three. But the spell wouldn't last long enough to deal with the final Amalgam.

Fifty steps. Forty-one cuts. Three throws.

Instinctively, I knew. With this much pain, this was the limit.

I couldn't keep my eyelids open any longer.

I slowly backed away and returned to the midst of the Supreme Mages. Their eyes were still fixed on the moment when I had sliced up the first Amalgam.

Seeing those stupid expressions told me just how omnipotent a realm I had entered.

And now, I steadied my breathing to pay the price.

INHAALE...

Nothing in this world guaranteed a certain 100%. Even studying, which adults harped on so loudly, never exchanged effort for results on a one-to-one basis.

Viewed in that light, how fair was magic, granting omnipotent power in return for pain?

EXHAALE...

I blinked.

A brief silence fell. As 100% [Cognitive Distortion] ended, sounds that had stretched endlessly like a damaged tape became audible normally again. At the same time, I realized that the price of all that movement compressed into so little time would return as muscle pain throughout my body, hyperventilation, high blood pressure, and a pounding pulse.

The instant I realized it, I fell face-first.

"Hkaaagh... kahahahk..."

My body contorted on its own. I couldn't even roll across the cold asphalt. My body twisted uncontrollably, my back wrenching. I forgot what I had been holding. My neck couldn't bear the weight of my head and bent backward.

"Kagagagh..."

My eyes? They were open, but I couldn't see. I could see something, but I couldn't tell what it was. Saliva bubbled like froth, filling my mouth until I couldn't even tell whether I was breathing.

"Kehk, kek. Kehehehk..."

If I could have made words, I would have screamed for someone to kill me.

Yet in a corner of my heart, the voice of the man Baek Je-min, crushed and crumpled beneath pain and terror, was proclaiming proudly that if this agony was magic's price, he would open both arms and embrace it even as he trembled. That he would gladly scream until his throat tore.

The wish that had brought me crawling all the way into Seoul with the single aim of becoming an archmage, that original, greedy resolve that had carried me into the fog on the fantasy of becoming an archmage and wielding omnipotence, roared inside my head.

'Is this all you've got?'

'Are you going to hell?'

I could have endured a hell of eternal fire, or a hell of walking on blades.

But the hell awaiting me wasn't a place that forced such trivial pain upon me.

It was a hell where the omnipotent power of magic slipped away right before my eyes, leaving me allowed only to dwell on how far I might have reached. A hell of imprisonment in a monster's body, chewing over what might have been for all eternity.

A hell where I would wander not as a great archmage, but as one of the countless monsters!

If I could avoid that hell, I would bear any cost.

Even if I had to burn this body up!!!

"Huuuuup!"

I yanked my gas mask up in one motion. First, I had to breathe. Spitting out dry, frothy saliva, I pushed myself up from my prone position, and my head spun.

I heard no gunfire. Instead, the crunch of chewing bones came from behind me.

"Baek Je-min! How are you feeling?!"

"Not good."

Hamza answered for me.

The pastor stood with his back to me, keeping watch as he swung his muzzle from side to side. Hamza stared at me and waved a rather thick syringe before my eyes.

"Je-min, can you see this?"

"Wha' iz..."

"It's morphine. I got permission to bring it for real emergencies. It took effect faster than I expected, but that makes it dangerous too."

CRUNCH!

The cheerful sound of something enjoying its meal came from behind us. I listened quietly to Hamza's chattering explanation, then held out my palm.

"Ahh... I go' a' idea."

"I don't know what you're saying."

"He says he has an idea."

Shin Na-in approached, panting.

Annoyed by my constantly tilting vision, I closed my eyes.

Fearing the price would leave me neither here nor there. A mage had to be able to pay calmly and gladly. With that attitude firmly established, there was no reason to hesitate.

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

I am fine. I am the same as always. I am merely feeling pain; my body has suffered no harm or loss of function.

My body belongs to me. My will takes precedence over the common sense that applies to all things in the world.

My body follows my perception.

I am a human, Baek Je-min.

"Ssshh, huuuh..."

"Je-min?"

I could see the shock in Hamza's eyes. But I was too busy immediately investigating the price of Cognitive Dissonance. I raised my hand and waved it before my eyes, revealing an enormous blind spot. My depth perception was slightly blurred.

The price of Eye, Stage Three was blindness in one eye. The greater the effect, the longer the blindness lasted. I had an intuitive sense that using it while one eye was blind would leave both eyes blind.

But it was powerful magic.

To let me off with blindness in one eye outside the fog—no spell could offer a better deal.

Even if it was a permanent disability instead of temporary blindness, that was fine.

Odin, the fucking awesome mage-god of Norse mythology, had sacrificed an eye for wisdom too. Becoming an archmage meant being prepared to lose an eye. I'd have to get myself one hell of an eyepatch to cover it.

I immediately got to my feet and put my gas mask back on, veiling the world with lenses covered in knife cuts and fine scratches.

"What's the situation?"

"Cruncher's busy eating three heads."

Shin Na-in jerked his chin behind us. Only then did I turn and get a good look at Cruncher.

I had once thought of Cruncher as a yellow mutt, but if I had to classify it, it was closer to a starfish.

Long, firm, flexible muscles like giraffe necks formed five elongated limbs. Each appendage functioned as an enormous pincer and mouth.

Incisors, canines, and molars sprouted chaotically in vertically split mouths, tangling together and clacking like castanets as they chomped down every last bone. It didn't care even when its own teeth broke and tore loose in the process.

Cruncher chewed the Amalgams alive as they flailed, deprived of the hands and feet they needed to resist, grinding the bones of their limbs and torsos between its pincer-mouths.

The biting sounds as it cracked bones and sucked out marrow were distinct.

CRUNCH!

But toothed pincer-mouths weren't all it had. One of its five limbs had no pincer-mouth. Instead, human lips crowded its giraffe-like length, sucking and rolling human eyeballs as though they were pacifiers.

Meanwhile, the numerous mouths on its torso were busy endlessly vomiting excrement.

Looking at Cruncher, a terrestrial starfish born from human raw materials, I had only one thought.

Those things the lips were sucking like baby pacifiers were eyes. The monster substituted for sight by sucking and rolling its victims' eyes like pacifiers.

This was Seoul, an inhuman realm of horrors that took everything from you if you closed your eyes. Anyone who retched at every monster's repulsive appearance, blasphemous origin, and bizarre biology wouldn't survive.

I looked away from Cruncher and picked my bayonet up off the ground. Just then, Lee Se-jun approached, shaking out his right hand after beating the fourth Amalgam to death.

"Je-min, are you okay?"

"I've got the hang of it."

The pastor glanced back. Hamza, after wondering what to do with the empty syringe, flung it toward the Han River. Shin Na-in caught his breath. Lee Se-jun wiped the hand he had shaken out against his pants.

It was time to show them that even among the Supreme Mages, one reigned supreme—to show who was strongest even in sunlight without fog.

"I'm taking the lead again."

"Will you be okay? Just let me go first."

"No."

Some things I could never yield, even if I lost an eye or went into shock from pain.

I had to be the most useful, most exceptional mage among the Supreme Mages. I absolutely could not lose to someone like Lee Se-jun, whose dream was to turn into a pretty girl.

"Let's get moving before Cruncher finishes eating."

* * *

When Cruncher began eating the last Amalgam, we began running too. But unlike before, we now enjoyed an entirely different level of security.

The Amalgams and predatory spines that had crammed themselves into abandoned vehicles to lie in ambush were no longer a match for me. Our division of labor was perfect.

First, Shin Na-in shouldered his rifle, aimed, and shot one of an Amalgam's legs to throw it off balance.

"In the Lord's name!"

Then I, Baek Je-min, charged the Amalgam, fueled by the pain lodged throughout my limbs. Gripping a single bayonet, I rolled my tongue—now guaranteed to develop sores—inside my mouth.

[Demotion].

Then 100% [Cognitive Distortion]!

Fifty-one steps, forty-one cuts, and three throws had caused that much pain, so I used it more sparingly. When only about six steps remained between me and the Amalgam, I severed tendons and chopped apart only the hands and forearms it used most effectively among the many pairs of limbs reaching toward me.

Nine cuts. I stepped back without doing the throwing myself.

I blinked.

In that instant, severed hands and feet flew up into the air. Before the monster could scream or struggle, Blood Fist Lee Se-jun strode forward and seized one of its bodies.

"Here you go!"

It was physical prowess worthy of a Heart, Stage Three mage. The Amalgam Lee Se-jun hurled flew straight toward Cruncher, which was pursuing us.

THUD!

"Daddy! No!"

Before the Amalgam's death cry could finish, Cruncher's pincer-mouth gaped open.

CRUNCH!

It was a strange traveling arrangement. As we obligingly tossed it food, Cruncher's pursuit grew a little less fierce. It felt as though we were being permitted to cross Olympic Bridge in exchange for preparing monsters and tossing them to another monster.

The pastor and Hamza were utterly disgusted, but they couldn't deny its effectiveness.

"Lord, when I stand before the gates of heaven, I'll explain everything. Amen!"

"You shouldn't feed wild animals. They'll follow you."

"You mean pest wildlife!"

That Lee Se-jun's nonsense should answer Hamza's off-target criticism was only natural poetic justice.

We rolled over the hoods of abandoned cars, ran as Lee Se-jun shoved or hurled obstructing vehicles aside, and watched Shin Na-in occasionally turn his head to look up at the sky...

Seoul's morning was different from the very beginning.

Then, as one swarm of Skin-jellyfish approached, Shin Na-in and the pastor exchanged a look and briefly stopped.

"Islam Boy! Get the magazines ready!"

"Yes!"

BANG, BANG-BANG...

Even the Skin-jellyfish, once torn apart by a single bullet, had become tougher. It took at least three or four shots to tear their skin. I hadn't noticed at a distance, but as they drew closer and recognized us, their characteristic pulsing movements grew swift.

Anyone could see them maneuvering wildly up, down, left, and right to make aiming difficult.

It was a miracle that only one Skin-jellyfish slipped through.

"Changing magazines!"

"Magazine... Wait! No!"

At Hamza's scream, Shin Na-in urgently turned toward us.

CLICK, CLICK, CLICK...

No bullets came out.

I saw the uncertainty in Shin Na-in's eyes. Then the faces fused to the Skin-jellyfish's hide obscured his face.

With their reloads unfortunately overlapping, the Skin-jellyfish targeted none other than me, Baek Je-min.

I clearly saw its tentacles, tipped with lip-like suckers, spread out, inflate its hide, then unfurl like a net and swoop toward me.

It was moving too fast for even Blood Fist Lee Se-jun to punch easily. Still less could I expect covering fire from Shin Na-in and the pastor, who were only just changing magazines, or from cowardly Hamza.

But the experience of having an Amalgam plaster itself onto my gas mask, and my decision to gladly endure pain, had changed how I acted.

I tightened my grip around the bayonet.

Before the Skin-jellyfish could wrap itself around me, I charged first. Thrusting the blade forward, I ran with all my strength into its body, inside its hide.

I don't know whether I let out a battle cry or clamped my mouth firmly shut. What I do know is the sensation of my blade piercing something soft in that black, sticky darkness.

At that moment, only one thought filled my head.

'Got you, you son of a bitch.'

RIP!

Our ancestors said that to catch a tiger, you had to enter its den. With each stroke that split the Skin-jellyfish's hide from within, with every shaft of clean sunlight seeping between its torn flesh, that lesson struck home.

I saw its inner dermis writhe in agony after it rippled upward, lifting my poncho and trying to graft itself onto my skin.

Sadly, a monster was still a monster. A beast that didn't know how to rejoice in pain, it struggled and tried to catch me.

But the awakened archmage, Super Baek Je-min, swung his blade without hesitation.

SLASH.

I would survive even inside a monster's maw.

SLASH, SLASH.

Before the monster could catch me, my struggles would kill it. The reason that was possible was a simple, clear truth.

I fought to escape hell.

RIIIP!!!

I rose, tearing away the hacked-up human skin with my left hand and flinging it aside. When scraps of Skin-jellyfish flesh clung limply to my poncho, I stabbed them and tossed them away, watching them die and disperse into fog.

HUFF, HUFF.

The sound of breathing inside my gas mask had never felt so good.

Having repelled the Skin-jellyfish, the Supreme Mages ran again.

"Je-min, I've been thinking."

"Yes?"

"I think you really are a lunatic."

A dry chuckle caught in someone's throat and burst into coughing. As the cheerful coughing spread, we casually looked at the sky above the bridge.

Monsters were still dying overhead, and fresh bombardments fell amid vapor trails. But one thing had changed: the other side of the Han River was a little closer.

"I. Said. I'm. Hun. Gry."

... Just like Cruncher, which was getting faster and faster.