Chapter 69 - The World Through One Eye

As the fog filled the city once more, our first order of business was finding a hideout. The pastor made that decision after taking stock of our condition.

"We can't go on like this. If we run into more monsters on the way to Konkuk University, we're finished."

His gaze settled on my closed left eye behind the lens of my gas mask.

"Baek Je-min. Are you all right?"

"For now."

"In that state, Je-min won't be able to go wild like he did on the bridge. Je-min, stay next to Islam Boy. Let's find somewhere to rest, quickly."

That brought about a change in our formation. Shin Na-in, who had eye and ear magic, took the lead to scout and detect threats. Lee Se-jun guarded the rear as our dependable fighting force, while Hamza supported me and the pastor followed Na-in. In that formation, we walked along the elevated road between apartment complexes.

Fortunately, Na-in's [Past Sight], which let him see the scenery from several hours earlier, wasn't completely useless; he simply hadn't been using his eye magic much. As he led the way, he sometimes raised his clenched left fist to signal us even faster than Hamza. Whenever we stopped briefly at his signal, he unfailingly gave us concise information to help us prepare.

"Two spines. They went over the guardrail, down beneath the elevated road."

"Na-in, do you think they'll follow us?"

Se-jun asked in an unusually serious voice, and Na-in shook his head.

"They seem to be lying in ambush. I don't see them anywhere nearby after that. We should be fine as long as we don't go under the elevated road."

"Getting ready ahead of time now that the fog's coming back, are they? Can't tell whether that's good luck or bad."

With that final grumble from the pastor, we set off again.

The one problem was the extent of my injuries—mine, Baek Je-min's. I'd boldly declared I would become Odin, but if living with one eye were easy, every idiot out there would have offered up an eyeball. I was clearly walking perfectly well, yet my body kept abruptly sinking downward. I couldn't help remembering the Seoul sinkhole crisis I'd heard about on the news.

"Seoul is fucking insane. The road looks perfectly fine, but my feet keep sinking into it."

"Je-min, it's you that's strange. You've been missing your footing. A lot."

"No, I'm walking perfectly fine."

I criticized Seoul's roads, and he told me I was the problem? Just as I opened my mouth to protest, Hamza beat me to it, breathing hard.

"Losing sight in one eye has messed up your depth perception."

"..."

"Be careful not to drop your bayonet. It'll hurt if you stab me."

Left speechless, I had no choice but to rely on Hamza. He was right. Having only one working eye was a far harsher penalty than I'd imagined. My distorted sense of distance made me misstep and nearly fall, and Hamza was holding me up.

With every variety of pain coursing through my entire body, recovering my balance once I lost it was especially difficult. One wobble brought a spinning rush of dizziness that nearly made me retch. Worse still, perhaps because Eye, Stage Three, [Cognitive Dissonance], had worn off, even the vision in my right eye was beginning to blur.

The moment I realized the growing weight pressing down on my shoulders was a warning of pain to come, I asked Hamza,

"Can't you give me another shot of morphine?"

"It's extremely dangerous. I gave you more than I thought I did. No."

Despite his panting, Hamza kindly explained. Morphine wasn't something you could just inject carelessly. He added that he'd hoped never to need it, but after learning that alteration-type magic exacted pain as its price, he'd brought it for emergency rescues in extreme conditions. Hamza suspected that rejecting the drug's effects with [Cognitive Dissonance] had at least helped, leaving me with fewer side effects than I otherwise would have suffered.

Periodically, Hamza waved a finger in front of my eye to check my condition.

"Je-min, can you see this?"

"One..."

"I'm flipping you off."

"You fucking bastard."

"Je-min is still okay."

With Hamza testing me from time to time, I was practically dragged along. As my mind slowly drifted into a daze, all I could tell was that we were passing through a large intersection. Then, when the rising fog reached even the remnants of flyers on utility poles, we seemed to turn into an alley, where I found myself facing a South Korean flag hanging in tatters.

After clearing the crude barricade blocking the door with Se-jun, the pastor said,

"Na-in says it's safe, so let's hold out here. Islam Boy seems to have brought a decent supply of medicine. We need to check things over before moving on."

That was when Hamza reached out and grabbed the edge of my gas mask. He probably meant to take it off so I could breathe more easily. But almost by spinal reflex, I seized his hand in a crushing grip.

"Ow!"

"Don't take it off."

Those experiences had been brief but intense. The Amalgam's eyeballs spilling over my gas-mask lenses, the Skin-jellyfish's internal organs—one layer of gas mask had been all that separated my skin from the monsters. After feeling that truth so acutely today, I had absolutely no desire to remove my mask outside a hideout.

Apparently understanding everything from those few words, Hamza nodded vigorously.

"Then take it off yourself."

"Yeah..."

Throughout that brief commotion, the pastor guarded our rear. Near the entrance, he had his rifle shouldered, however awkwardly, and poked its muzzle into every corner of the alley as it began filling with fog. It was an impressive sight. Apparently, he too was gradually adapting to Seoul.

Hamza guided me upstairs to the second floor, where traces of former occupants greeted us. Clothes lay scattered about, and sagging mattresses extended even into the hallway. Apparently, survivors had stayed here before moving on or meeting with misfortune. Unfortunately, there wasn't any food left.

We settled in a room at the far end of the hallway, the most secluded one, with few windows. It was bare because its furniture had already been used for barricades or dismantled for materials, but that made it an ideal place to set down our belongings. Aside from the dust, it actually looked sanitary.

I was lowered into the most out-of-the-way corner. Leaning my back against the wall, I removed my gas mask and finally drew a relieved breath, inhaling sharply and letting out a long exhale.

For a while, the rustle of clothing overlapped as everyone set down their backpacks one by one. While some prayed and others rummaged through their packs for bottled water, the pastor addressed me.

"Je-min."

"Yes?"

"Your left eye. Is it completely shot? How is it?"

At that, I first raised my left hand. Touching my eye with a hand stained with blood and dust seemed like a direct route to an eye infection. So I kept my left eye closed and, without touching the lid, explained aloud the intuitive understanding magic had implanted in my mind: the penalty for Eye, Stage Three, [Cognitive Dissonance].

The pastor clicked his tongue at how much more terrifying the price was than he'd expected.

"It funnels the magical backlash into one eye, then blinds the other the moment permanent blindness becomes inevitable. Tsk. Truly heretical."

Then Na-in, who had been meditating quietly while listening through his headset, slowly spoke.

"But considering those bizarre movements Je-min demonstrated... it was a great miracle worthy of the holy-war arts."

"Right. Je-min suddenly started moving incredibly fast."

Se-jun had already torn open a bag of hardtack and was stuffing his fucking face. Watching him crunch away at biscuits that probably hadn't touched a drop of saliva was so typical of him. Then, as I thought it over, I felt anger well up at his phony praise.

"Hey. You punted a wrecked car like a knuckleball shot and sent monsters flying with it. What are you making such a fuss for?"

"Did I?"

The sight of Se-jun blinking while stuffing more hardtack into his mouth was so obnoxious that I looked away. Just then, Hamza was handing me a cloth so white it looked almost luminous. I accepted it without thinking, and he mimed washing his face as he spoke.

"Wipe your eye with that. I put disinfectant on it."

"Uh... sure. Thanks, Hamza."

His speech might be a little halting, but Hamza certainly was thorough in his preparations. Feeling something like a slightly cool gel on the cloth, I realized he was more concerned about my injuries than I'd thought. His claim to have been a medical student in Pakistan apparently wasn't empty talk. I had no idea why someone like him had traveled to a distant foreign land to haul bricks, but thanks to him, a sense of reassurance settled over me.

Then the pastor, who had been staring at me, spoke calmly.

"Let's give Je-min's eye a day to see if it recovers. With almost all our ammunition gone, it's too dangerous if he can't fight properly. And... all of you must be utterly exhausted right now. Aren't you?"

Everyone answered his question with silence. Crossing the Han River under bright sunlight, without the fog to weaken the monsters, had been madness. Never before had I felt so keenly how difficult it was to face monsters without fog.

But now that I was inside the hideout catching my breath, and my senses were recovering after running wild since the Stage Three magic, [Cognitive Dissonance], ended, I felt something.

BZZZ.

My sorcery phone. Apparently, it had been vibrating nonstop in my inner pocket. My head must have been such a mess that I hadn't even felt it. I reached to slip my hand into my pocket, but got an unexpected result: my hand slid through empty air.

"Huh?"

It was clearly somewhere I should have been able to reach, yet my hand was groping at nothing. Bewildered, I patted my chest and felt a strange sensory disconnect. My hand actually landed a little farther away, a little off from where it ought to have touched.

That was when Na-in spoke, humming to himself.

"It certainly looks like things will be difficult for now. Je-min hasn't adjusted his sense of distance yet."

"Will you recover, Je-min?"

It was the first time I'd ever seen Se-jun worried. That only irritated me more. After patting my chest several times, I finally began to get a feel for it. Retrieving the sorcery phone from my pocket took more effort than I'd expected, and my thumb missed its mark several times before I could inspect the screen.

[Kang A-reum: Different people oversee the areas north and south of the river.]

[Kang A-reum: There are still some kind people north of the river, but word has gotten out that you're receiving military support, so they'll be wary. Be careful.]

[Kang A-reum: And never stay out in the sunlight that long again. That was seriously dangerous!]

My older friend Kang A-reum really did look like a square-jawed, muscular man without a beard, but she had such a kind heart. I tried to reply to her meddlesome concern, but a poor-connection indicator appeared, and our conversation couldn't continue. So I checked the other anonymous messages instead.

[Five military survivors confirmed to have crossed the Han River.]

[Intercepted communications confirm the survivor group's name as 'Aphorism.']

[Distinct from the soldiers near Line Three.]

[Strongly suspected to all be mages.]

[Concern that unusual military activity may indicate deployment of anti-mage kill squads using mages who cooperate with the military. Refrain from rash contact and avoid pointless engagements.]

[Verification identifies this as the sorcery phone of Jangji Station leader Kim Beom-gi. All individual contact with Kim Beom-gi's sorcery phone is prohibited.]

After countless messages passed across the screen in turn, one sentence caught my eye.

[Aphorism. The military cannot help you. We will leave you the sorcery phone.]

BEEP.

I set the sorcery phone down and slid it toward the gathered Supreme Mages. It bumped against the pastor's foot, and Na-in picked it up to show everyone. After reading all the messages, the Supreme Mages smacked their lips uneasily and exchanged glances.

Na-in spoke first.

"Since they mentioned the soldiers near Line Three, do you suppose they're focusing their attention there?"

"The most dangerous mage is in Gangnam. There's a good chance they ran into that mage."

Hamza added this while recalling the place he'd marked on the map earlier with his doctrinal magic, [Angel's Intuition].

Now that our suspicion that the special forces had headed down Line Three had been confirmed, I could only click my tongue as I imagined the dangers they might have encountered.

"Good thing we didn't follow them."

As I breathed a sigh of relief, Se-jun tilted his head, a little slow on the uptake.

"More importantly, haven't these guys figured us out?"

"Lee Se-jun. They're openly leaving the door open for us to switch sides."

The pastor clicked his tongue, but folded his arms and sank deep into thought. Only after groaning to himself did he offer his opinion.

"These people... once they establish you're a mage, do they leave room to negotiate even if you've killed their own? They don't seem to treat ordinary people without magic very well."

Through me, the Supreme Mages knew what Ski Goggles' memories contained. Ski Goggles had been a Seoul mage who regarded non-mages as monsters-in-waiting and burdens, believing they should be actively used as sacrifices, if only to reduce food consumption. The most important question was whether his reasoning held sway throughout Seoul.

Tapping his headset, Na-in offered his view.

"I don't know when that devil spouted those words, but even if Seoul's power grid wasn't completely cut off, whether for humanitarian reasons or to maintain facilities, they probably couldn't use it properly with things in this state. It also seems the government, while it still existed, avoided cutting power transmission to retain at least a minimal humanitarian justification and excuse."

"After trapping ten million people and shooting them dead?"

Na-in answered my objection calmly.

"If they'd trapped ten million people and cut the electricity first, the fact that they were shooting them dead might have come to light sooner. Anyone would find that suspicious. I infer that it would have provoked more immediate resistance than restricting the roads. Above all, given how sudden the critical-threshold breach was, they may not have had time to shut it off."

"Aha."

"The point is that, however many survivor groups exist within Seoul, their total numbers are unlikely to exceed a few hundred thousand. The devils' familiars are cruel and hostile. Considering the teratomas we encountered, or those... Tadpole Belly swarms, anyone lacking a strong body and mind would find going outside almost impossible."

This was what Na-in meant. In Seoul, survival came down to whether or not you were a mage. Ordinary people had reached a point where surviving without mages was impossible. In an environment where mages had to shoulder the burden of ordinary people who couldn't contribute to survival, how long could they hold out without conflict?

"The people using the sorcery phones consider ordinary soldiers useless, but apparently think differently of holy warriors who wield the holy-war arts. They know exactly how useful and superior holy warriors are in fighting these devils' familiars. The problem is that they're hostile to soldiers despite modern weapons proving effective, yet show a double standard toward us, even though we rely on modern weapons to some extent ourselves."

The core of Na-in's argument was gradually taking shape. Hamza was the first to recognize its underlying premise: the prejudice held by the Society of 66, who operated the sorcery phones. Being a target of prejudice himself apparently made him quicker to notice it.

"Na-in is right. It's as though they've decided modern weapons have a limit. Like they're saying, you won't get any further than this anyway."

"Oh, come on. Hamza, that's going too far. What would they do if we fired a nuke?"

Se-jun replied with a snicker, and the pastor shrugged.

"Se-jun. What would you do if there were a monster that didn't fucking die when a nuke hit it?"

"Huh?"

"I think I'm starting to understand what they're plotting. It's similar to the people who peddle fear using the Book of Revelation."

The pastor spoke as he fiddled with the slender arm of his glasses.

"They're forcing the heads of state and leadership watching this crisis to gamble. Nukes? Go ahead, fire them. But you know you're finished if there's even one monster a nuke can't wipe out, don't you?"

The pastor's hand began to tremble slightly. I had some idea why. Fear. Fear that human society would never return to what it had been, that it would never recover. That fear took shape in the words of his faintly trembling voice.

"... Right now, society is functioning on the premise that the military will hold the line, and that even if everything else fails, nukes can stop this. Everyone tacitly takes that for granted. It's precisely because the nukes haven't been fired yet that panic is being held at bay."

"Pastor, so if they really fire nukes and blow away the whole Korean Peninsula... and still can't wipe them out..."

Se-jun's expression hardened as he too began to understand. The pastor quietly steadied his breathing and closed his eyes.

"An enormous panic will sweep all of humanity. After that, we won't be able to stop them. Society's very capacity to act will be shattered."

"Vicious bastards."

Adding those words, the pastor rubbed his face.

A strange silence settled over us. The scale of it was so enormous and absurd that it was hard to believe. Yet a faint apprehension also arose: if, by any chance, a monster really survived being hit by dozens of hydrogen bombs, we truly would be finished.

That was when the sorcery phone vibrated again.

BZZZ.

"Ah, shit. Who is it now?"

"Je-min. I don't want to look at it. Take it back and check it yourself."

With a quick toss, the sorcery phone came bouncing back toward me like a stone skipping over water. Clicking my tongue, I picked it up—and found the name we'd been looking for.

[Go Ryeo-ha: Hey. Are you the soldiers?]

[Go Ryeo-ha: Are those five people who just crossed the Han River on Olympic Bridge really you?]

I—Baek Je-min, aspiring Odin and archmage—showed the message to the Supreme Mages and said,

"Nukes, my ass. Let's eat, drink some water, and go see our friend here."

Come to think of it, this wasn't the time to worry about humanity after a nuclear baptism. If nukes wiped everything out cleanly, what was there to worry about? Magic would disappear with them. I had to learn at least one more bit of magic before the nukes erased it!