Chapter 70 - School Bus

Before deciding what to do about Go Ryeo-ha's message, we took some time to review the Seoul mages we knew about. One reason was the pastor's vigorous insistence.

"Now that she's contacted us, we need to decide beforehand how we're going to approach her and handle things. Work out what we can get and what we can offer, too."

Who would we contact, who would we meet, and what would we trade, and how, to benefit ourselves? It was time for us Supreme Mages to start preparing our ultimate objectives and escape plan. Everyone agreed that made sense and began rummaging through their memories.

Fortunately, we Supreme Mages remembered the five survivors we'd communicated with before entering Seoul. The military had managed to obtain approximate coordinates through those exchanges, and thanks to Hamza's doctrinal magic, we'd already formed a rough picture of all five. We tried assigning nicknames as well, to make them easier to keep straight.

First: the man who'd begged to be let out, called us "idthiots," and broken down sobbing. For convenience, we decided to call him Idthiot. Dobong District Idthiot had a rather cute ring to it. Unfortunately, he was near Bukhansan, so we wouldn't be seeing him for a while.

Besides, none of the Supreme Mages had much to say about him. Even Shin Na-in, the fanatic who loved creepily digging into people's business, looked stumped.

"There's nothing to learn beyond the fact that he's already panicking."

We had particularly little information about Dobong District Idthiot compared with the other Seoul mages, and sobbing and begging to be rescued was so clichéd that he lacked any personality. With my gift for naming, I'd bestowed the splendid individuality of Dobong District Idthiot on a man even blander than plain starch jelly. The next one, however, was quite different.

Second: the intellectual-sounding voice who'd expressed hostility toward people outside Seoul but seemed to look after the survivors. We provisionally named him Professor Nowon District. From the moment we'd spoken with him, we'd judged him extremely dangerous, just as Hamza had warned. We therefore put off meeting him until much later.

Lee Se-jun folded his arms and shook his head.

"Didn't he say he'd show us whether he could annihilate people without a gun?"

"Meeting him is dangerous."

Given Hamza's warning, he seemed hostile toward us, at least.

Third: the middle-aged woman who'd taken charge of the conversation and smoothly tried to wrangle support out of us. We decided to call her Madam Yongsan Station. She was relatively friendly toward the military outside, and her manner of speaking carried the weight of experience. I actually felt a little bad about using something as crude as "big sis." The pastor questioned my naming sense, though.

"Isn't 'Madam' a bit much? You call Kang A-reum 'big sis' all the time. Why not Big Sis Yongsan Station? Why Madam?"

"How can you call an older lady 'big sis'? I'm not the sort of person who casually belittles or underestimates his elders."

"I don't remember her voice too clearly, but she couldn't be older than her fifties, tops. That makes her a big sis, not a madam, you punk."

"Pastor, I'm not someone who goes around disrespecting his elders like that."

If someone was twenty years or more older than me, I ought to treat them with the utmost respect. Why would I go calling them big sis and act like I'd aged another twenty fucking years myself? No matter how fucked our country was, respect for seniority was still alive and well.

"Baek Je-min, you bastard. Aren't you just taking a jab at her because you don't want people treating you like you're in the same age group as someone older?"

"Haaah. Pastor, I'm still in my twenties."

The approach of my thirties was depressing enough. Calling a woman in her forties big sis would make me feel like I was already thirty, and I hated that.

Anyway, according to Hamza's doctrinal magic, Madam Yongsan Station was relatively low-risk. The sticking point was that we had to consider the madam and Yongsan Station separately. It was hard to tell whether Yongsan Station was dangerous because there were lots of monsters there, or because the madam was fickle. Besides, Yongsan Station was also where the last military unit had disintegrated.

The pastor had been particularly nitpicky when Madam Yongsan Station came up because he wanted to focus on that point. It had been bait to introduce the subject.

"Remember Suwon Station? That one time the government changed its mind and tried screening the refugees. In the middle of all that chaos, they brought in the shaman lady and that priest fellow to at least try identifying the people who'd fled there."

"They did."

All the Supreme Mages nodded, lost in recollection. Each of us here had faced different trials in different ways, but I couldn't help thinking of Father Jeong Yong-hwan's end. He would have made an excellent tank if he'd lived. As I swallowed that regret, the pastor clicked his tongue and spoke.

"But where did the train carrying those refugees leave from? Yongsan Station. When the unit blocking evacuation there collapsed, the military completely lost control over Seoul. I don't know what happened at Nambu Bus Terminal, but Yongsan Station is certain. And both the lead train carrying the refugees and the following train with monsters mixed in came from Yongsan Station, didn't they?"

"I see what you're getting at, Pastor. It seems the very fact that Madam Yongsan Station happens to be at Yongsan Station bothers you."

Shin Na-in the suck-up seemed to be agreeing for now. As I scowled, he looked around at the rest of us in our confusion and heaved a sigh.

"The following train that caused the collision. The pastor is concerned that Madam Yongsan Station might have been involved in dispatching it."

"You're saying a person sent that thing?"

"The circumstances give us ample reason for suspicion."

This was what the pastor and Na-in had deduced. Until now, we'd thought the Amalgams had used human intelligence to somehow disguise themselves, attack the driver, and hijack the train on their own. But what if someone had deliberately orchestrated it to breach the blockade? That was what worried the two of them.

"It wasn't long after the situation began deteriorating in earnest, so the holy warriors practicing holy-war arts probably weren't very capable yet. But if Madam Yongsan Station leads a group, and if she was operating near Yongsan Station back then, she could have tried to breach the blockade that way."

"So we can't let our guard down completely."

I couldn't get used to Lee Se-jun agreeing with such a serious look in his eyes.

Fourth. Everyone nodded at my choice of name. It was the most intuitive of the lot.

"Gangnam Clairvoyant. Nice."

"If you can see all the way from Gangnam to Seongnam, you're definitely clairvoyant."

"Does that basically mean seeing far away?"

Aside from Hamza, who hadn't learned the word 'clairvoyant' yet, the response was quite positive.

That led to the reasonable conjecture that all five people who'd answered the military's transmissions were powerful mages.

"In this fucked-up place, they were still tuning into radio frequencies and answering calls? Without a sorcery phone?"

The pastor looked around at us with keen eyes over the glasses that had slipped down to the tip of his nose. I could only nod at his look seeking agreement.

"They seem to be maintaining those channels to contact ordinary survivors without mages among them. Maybe they need to communicate with the outside, or want to know what's happening out there."

"Right. That's why I don't think every Seoul mage belongs to the Society of 66. These people want sources of information besides the Society, too. Those five were probably the strongest of the bunch, too strong for even the Society of 66 to push around, so they risked being intercepted to answer the military."

"Or they might have had the Society of 66's approval."

Hamza's party-pooping remark made the pastor click his tongue and sharply turn away. Undeterred, Hamza rolled his eyes around thoughtfully and spoke, gesturing with his hands.

"What we can offer is information about the world outside Seoul. And bundles of military scrip to secure them an escape and a place in the military-scrip economy. What we need from them, meanwhile, is information about magic and the survivors inside Seoul."

"Good. That's settled."

I, Baek Je-min, would handle communications with Go Ryeo-ha. The other candidates were simply too alarming.

"Je-min, why are you looking at me like that?"

Shin Na-in. He looked normal and seemed to behave normally, but he was such a pigheaded idiot that he'd be perfect for starting a fight. No.

"How about me? I'm really good at talking like a girl!"

Lee Se-jun. Even daring to imagine why he wanted to exchange messages with a young woman was revolting. I absolutely did not want to see it.

"If she seems decent, I could invite her to church. Nothing wrong with that."

Pastor Park Yo-han. 'Believe in Jesus and go to heaven; don't believe and go to hell' was deeply unpleasant to non-churchgoers. Rejected.

"I don't like danger."

Hamza moved away before I could say anything, saying he didn't want to talk to a mage. In the end, I was the only Supreme Mage capable of reasonably normal communication, so I took charge of the KA-TALK chat with Go Ryeo-ha on the sorcery phone. What even I hadn't anticipated, though, was how my fingers kept missing when I pressed the screen.

[Me: Nice to mee t you, Ms. Go Ryeo-ha.]

I painstakingly typed it out, trusting she'd forgive a single typo, but the 1 beside the message wouldn't disappear. Had she put her sorcery phone down while we briefly put our heads together to assess the average Seoul mage? It wasn't easy for a modern person to put down their phone. A few seconds into these musings, a reply came.

[Go Ryeo-ha: Nice to meet you ^-^]

"Wow."

"What?"

The Supreme Mages had somehow gathered behind me and were exclaiming as they stared at the screen. Lee Se-jun was positively marveling, his eyes sparkling.

"Wow. Just one line, and I know what we've been missing. A breath of fresh air."

"What a fuss. Tsk."

"Je-min. Do you realize you're grinning?"

"Hehehehe. Fuck, this is so goddamn good."

After lightly chiding Se-jun, I massaged the twitching corners of my mouth with my fingers.

Shin Na-in, the lunatic who shut his ears and sang hymns! Pastor Park Yo-han, the Jesus freak always angling to proselytize! Hamza, the super-coward always looking for a chance to bolt! Lee Se-jun, who pulled all sorts of bullshit about his dream of becoming a gender-swapped beautiful girl!

After fighting our way through monsters in the fog with a party reeking of lonely bachelors, here at last was the scent of face powder. As for Big Sis Kang A-reum, well... she was a little too blocky, like a sugar cube, to count as powder...

Under the circumstances, I couldn't possibly let this miraculous moment slip away.

"Je-min, you seem to be having trouble typing. Shall I do it for you?"

"Fuck off, Shit Boy."

TAP, TAP.

Baek Je-min, a real man, kept resolutely tapping the screen despite missing again and again.

[Me: My hands aren't working well, so I'm slow. Please bear with me.]

"Je-min, you little shit. You sure didn't bother with all that when you messaged A-reum."

"Pastor, don't interrupt. This is an important negotiation."

"Hey, punk. Would you still talk like that if she looked like Kang A-reum?"

"Let a man dream. Please!"

I hated the Supreme Mages for constantly chiming in behind me. Regardless, the conversation had already begun.

[Go Ryeo-ha: Mr. Soldiers, could you tell me what brought you here?!]

First, I had to clear up a misunderstanding.

[Me: We're civilians, not soldiers.]

[Go Ryeo-ha: ?]

[Go Ryeo-ha: Civilians?]

TAP, TAP-TAP, TAP...

As I struggled to type with my continually wandering fingers, I suddenly realized something. I'd swallowed the red pill: being physically comfortable was better than making a fool of myself chatting with a woman whose face I didn't even know. Once that realization hit, the conversation got easier.

"What's with you, Je-min? Suddenly you're typing like you do with A-reum."

"I've woken up from my dream."

TAP-TAP, TAP!

[Me: We're civilians.]

[Go Ryeo-ha: What's with the sudden change in tone?]

[Me: Left eye's wrecked and I can't see shit, so bear with me.]

[Go Ryeo-ha: Isn't there anyone else?]

[Go Ryeo-ha: Besides, you got artillery support crossing the bridge, you're wearing military clothes, and you've even got guns. How does calling yourselves civilians make sense?]

[Me: Sec]

I briefly looked away at the Supreme Mages. Shin Na-in met my gaze as though asking what my problem was. Lee Se-jun openly stared at the screen with sparkling eyes. The pastor raised his eyebrows, scouting for an opening to evangelize. Farther away, Hamza hugged his backpack and sneaked glances over. After surveying them all, I tapped the screen again.

[Me: I'm the best one here]

[Me: And civilians wear rain ponchos and carry guns these days.]

[Go Ryeo-ha: ]

People sometimes have trouble accepting facts. Go Ryeo-ha did too, but after a little more conversation, we could get down to business.

[Go Ryeo-ha: You're saying you came to meet me???]

[Me: Let's trade.]

[Go Ryeo-ha: This isn't a rescue operation or anything???]

Here, I thought fast. Go Ryeo-ha seemed to be a survivor who'd decided to hold out until the military changed its policy and rescued them. Far from changing policy, they were fiddling with the nuclear button, but I had a feeling telling the truth here would torpedo the negotiations.

This was where my experience shone. I was an unparalleled genius who'd mastered plausible lies through the hundreds of excuses I'd made to skip mandatory evening study at school. Much as I loved honesty, I could sacrifice my conscience for the best possible result.

[Me: Everyone who came with us died. We're all that's left...]

All the South Korean soldiers who should have traveled with us were missing, and the advance team we'd encountered at Jangji Station had been wiped out, so it was true enough. The fact that we'd never particularly considered rescuing anyone would be painful for both sides, so I didn't mention it. But Go Ryeo-ha apparently couldn't give up hope of escape so easily.

[Go Ryeo-ha: Oh]

[Go Ryeo-ha: Then don't you at least have something to get back with?]

[Me: Nope...]

[Go Ryeo-ha: ?]

[Me: Our radio operators are all dead too, so we're coming to see you because you can contact the military...]

[Go Ryeo-ha: ]

Feeling odd looks from behind me, I turned to find Shin Na-in tilting his head.

"Je-min. Somehow, when you type, it comes across as pitiful. You're surprisingly good at typing ellipses, though."

"That's a typo."

My finger kept missing Enter and hitting the period instead. I couldn't be bothered deleting them, so I'd just sent it as it was.

[Go Ryeo-ha: Can you actually get here?]

[Me: Tell us where and we'll find you]

[Go Ryeo-ha: Let me go discuss it first.]

That was when Pastor Park Yo-han smiled in satisfaction.

"I've only seen her texts, but she seems decent so far. Looks like she has faith."

"Sh-she isn't dangerous, but... my magic isn't a hundred percent accurate, so couldn't it be an ambush or a trap?"

Watching Hamza tremble while clutching his backpack tight filled me with all sorts of regrets about life. Meanwhile, Go Ryeo-ha's messages came back, apparently after she'd finished her discussion.

[Go Ryeo-ha: I'll come meet you.]

[Go Ryeo-ha: Be near the fire station at Children's Grand Park by noon tomorrow.]

[Me: Thank you]

[Go Ryeo-ha: And you're obviously soldiers, so don't call yourselves civilians]

[Go Ryeo-ha: It feels like you're lying, and I don't like it 0-0]

THUMP!

As soon as the conversation ended, I put down the sorcery phone. Typing with fingers that kept missing was seriously exhausting. My thumbs hurt as though they might snap as I addressed the Supreme Mages clustered behind me.

"Tomorrow at twelve. She says to meet in front of the Children's Grand Park fire station. Let's rest here a bit before we go."

"Children's Grand Park, of all places. Aren't they trying to whack us? It's a grand park. There's bound to be more monsters than at Olympic Park."

Lee Se-jun's voice was tinged with concern. On the surface, it was a perfectly reasonable and sensible conjecture, but Na-in and I could only look at him with contempt. The penalty for Stage One ear magic had chosen that precise moment to kick in.

'Children's Grand Park... I don't want to go in this old man's body! I want to go when I'm soft and squishy!!!'

With a deep sigh, I finally decided to take out the can of Spam I'd stashed away. Using the peeled-off lid as a knife, I cut it into thick chunks and handed one to each of the noisy Supreme Mages. If I ate it all myself, I knew with a hundred percent certainty they'd give me every kind of shit about it.

"I'm tired. Everyone eat a piece of Spam and shut your mouths."

They stopped making a fuss, returned to their respective spots, and each brought out something they'd been hoarding: a half-finished bag of hardtack, canned perilla leaves, instant porridge, even rock-hard Hetbahn rice. The way they found somewhere to put their piece of Spam and grinned over it made them look exactly like hyenas.

"Well, well. Our little miser Baek Je-min's all grown up. You're bringing tears to your pastor's eyes, eh?"

"Hehe. Spam!"

"Je-min, you truly are suited to being a Christian. I thank God for granting us this Spam."

"Thank you, Je-min."

The only one who actually thanked me properly was Hamza, the Muslim migrant worker. Was this right? No!

I frowned as I flicked my tongue over the Spam. All the other Supreme Mages frowned in unison. Na-in, in particular, looked at me like a cockroach on the kitchen sink and asked:

"Je-min, what are you doing?"

"Savoring what's left after sharing."

"..."

SLURP, SLURP, SLURP...

This was an extreme maneuver based on the strategic calculation that if I acted disgusting enough, they'd return the Spam out of sheer revulsion. I set an unheated slice on the can lid and licked it endlessly. Most people would've given theirs back, if only because I was being so petty. But these were the Supreme Mages, all right.

"Uh-huh. Sure. Savor it, Je-min. Nom."

"Munch, munch. Spam's delicious."

"The daily bread granted by the Lord God is never returned."

"Je-min, I even thanked you."

It happened in an instant. I shuddered as I watched the Supreme Mages tip their pieces of Spam into their mouths without the slightest hesitation, without a trace of reluctance. These bastards. They were just about as shameless as I was.

"Seriously... fuck. I'm acting this pathetically and you still won't give the Spam back. That's legendary. Just what I'd expect from the Supreme Mages."

"Baek Je-min, guilt trips don't work when the other guy has no shame."

"Give it back. My Spam."

"Already fucking ate it, you stingy bastard."

And so, on the seventh day of our expedition, we Supreme Mages spent an entire day resting. Once again, we pinned a rain poncho over the window with bayonets and coated the door with [Blood of the Right Hand] to prevent any unexpected intrusions. Afterward, Hamza checked our wounds for the first time.

"I brought antibiotics too, but for now I'll disinfect these and bandage them... If you develop a fever, I'll give you some then."

"Hamza! Me too! My right hand's bleeding too!"

"You're sturdy enough to be fine, Se-jun, but Je-min has a lot of wounds."

Looking at both my hands, covered in cuts and scabs, I could tell how valiantly I'd fought.

"Waaah..."

"Je-min. Don't make such a fuss over disinfectant. Stop shaking your legs. You're making it hard to apply."

"It fucking hurts... Boo-hoo..."

"Baek Je-min. What are you, a kid? You're actually saying 'boo-hoo' out loud. The way you're acting, you'd think this hurts more than when you needed morphine."

Tears streamed down my face at the sting digging into my skin, and I vowed to cut myself gently next time. The saving grace was that despite seven days of grueling marches, there were few serious injuries. Aside from Se-jun and me, no one had wounds needing much attention beyond minor scratches and scrapes.

Hamza packed up the first-aid kit, put it in his backpack, and said, "You're all filthy, so watch out for infections. Tell me right away if you think you're getting a fever."

Thank goodness we Supreme Mages at least had sturdy bodies.

Everyone alternated between catching up on sleep and waking, trading pointless remarks whenever boredom struck.

"Je-min. Don't you think magical aptitude is influenced to some extent by the life you've lived?"

"That theory loses credibility when you consider that you awakened Stage One hand magic, humanity's intellect."

"I was thinking maybe the reason heart is the only branch you haven't acquired is that you're an unemployed bastard who stayed holed up in his room doing nothing."

"Hey, I took two months off."

* * *

April 22, 2028, 11:11 a.m.

Expedition Day Eight.

We Supreme Mages were advancing toward our destination in a slightly altered formation. Visibility in the fog was about a hundred meters. Walking around Seoul was a little dangerous, but with care, it was manageable. Of course, amid all this chaos, the trip from near Olympic Bridge to Children's Grand Park was a long one—not necessarily in distance, but in time. Even dangers we'd normally have dealt with in a flash weren't easy to resolve.

"Jellyfish. Five."

SHUFFLE!

The instant we encountered five roaming Skin-jellyfish, we took cover behind an abandoned truck and looked at one another.

"Islam Boy, how many rounds left?"

"Three hundred."

"And Je-min's eye still isn't ready?"

"It hasn't fully recovered yet."

One useful discovery was that the recovery time for the temporary blindness caused by the backlash of Eye, Stage Three, Cognitive Dissonance, varied with the severity of the injuries. My left eye still hadn't recovered. If I forced it open, I could barely make out the outlines of objects, but everything was so blurry that I figured I'd score a -10.0 on an eye test. It was more comfortable to keep it shut with a strip of cloth tied over it as an eyepatch.

In this condition, using eye magic with only my right eye called for caution. If I permanently blinded both eyes, the real problem would be that I'd become a blind man unable to use eye magic. Blindness itself I could grit my teeth and endure, but if I lost eye magic, I was confident I'd collapse on the floor and let loose tears, snot, drool, piss, and shit all at once. Noticing this grim resolve, Na-in's eyes widened before he began dry-heaving.

"Urgh, ugh."

"What's suddenly gotten into Na-in?"

"He must have heard a monster. Shh."

To maintain stealth, I mimed raising my index finger over my gas-mask filter. Fortunately, by the time Na-in started gagging, the Skin-jellyfish were floating up and disappearing beyond the fog.

I found myself feeling oddly moved by the sight. They'd been utterly horrifying when I first saw them, but watching them peacefully drift about was actually rather soothing. The problem with Seoul was that its disastrous first impression trapped you in prejudice. Once you lived here, it didn't seem so bad.

Wasn't it like a safari where slightly grotesque tigers and bears roamed free? If you thought about it, beasts that ate humans and beasts made from humans both had humans as their raw material.

That was when Na-in finished gagging, scowled fiercely, and snapped at me.

"Je-min. Stop spouting nonsense about how tuna sashimi and canned tuna are the same because they use the same ingredients, and get a grip."

"Ease up on the Mind Reading."

Anyway, while we waited, the Skin-jellyfish drifted away. We Supreme Mages watched the swarm for a moment, then passed an empty bus stop and continued along the sidewalk, maintaining an all-around watch. The pastor and Na-in advanced in front with rifles shouldered, Hamza trembled beside me in the middle, and Se-jun brought up the rear, blinking as he scanned our surroundings.

Then strange sounds began drawing closer. At first, I thought monsters were acting up again. By now, I even felt a little anticipation about new species, as though filling out a monster encyclopedia. But with every step, as we approached, things grew strangely unlike what I'd expected. That dull sound of flesh being mashed. Every so often, I heard something being crushed with a thud.

We Supreme Mages instantly heightened our vigilance and looked toward Hamza.

"I-I can't tell yet..."

CLICK.

Keeping their muzzles trained ahead, the pastor and Na-in crouched first. Duck-walking was fucking hard, but deciding it was better than being spotted, all the Supreme Mages lowered themselves at once. As we shuffled forward, the source of the sound gradually became clear.

BANG... BANG... BANG...

Hammering.

In the rhythm of that hammering, I sensed a murderous malice even more vicious than someone pounding a wall with all their strength out of spite, determined to torment their neighbors with noise. Then, within a hundred meters, the source of the hammering emerged beyond the pale fog.

"It hurts... Help me..."

It wasn't a person speaking, but an Amalgam that had devoured a little child's face. A small Amalgam that had eaten eight people floated in the air as though suspended upside down. It flailed, its child's face contorted in tears, vomiting a child's voice from its unified mouth.

Beside it lay a variety of monster corpses, already burned or torn to shreds. A predatory spine with its skull smashed. An Amalgam burned black, barely retaining its outline like a mummy. A Skin-jellyfish crumpled and crushed like a balloon burst under pressure. Beyond those corpses, amid monsters still writhing and crawling, stood a woman.

A high ponytail. A black mask rated KF90 or higher. A figure only subtly hinted at beneath her thick cropped puffer jacket by the contours of her legs. Combat boots glistening with blood and fat. Dark red gloves on both hands. She stretched her right hand toward the flailing Amalgam.

At that moment, every one of us Supreme Mages must have been startled. At least, I was.

"True Lord of Fire Virtue. Fire apart, metal subdued, depart."

BANG!

Something shot from her glove. A pebble? A steel ball? I didn't know what it was, but that was definitely not the kind of power a tantrum could produce. I thought I saw sparks fly, and then it was all over. A hole opened in the flailing Amalgam's head. Before its fluids could spill out, they seemed to harden, then crumbled away. The Amalgam couldn't even twitch anymore. Only then did it slide smoothly down out of the air.

SPLAT.

The woman approached the Amalgam sprawled on the ground amid smoke from burning flesh. Was she sensitive enough to be paying her respects? Just as that thought crossed my mind, the ponytailed woman raised her knee high and stomped down with all her might.

CRUNCH!

The head, which could be called an Amalgam's main body, was liquid. But apart from the head, the human neck and spine were no different from those of an ordinary person. The ponytailed woman had stepped on the cervical vertebrae connecting the neck and head.

CRACK, CRACK, CRUNCH!

Everyone fell silent as she ground different parts of the Amalgam's head underfoot as though stamping out a lit cigarette butt.

Then, apparently sensing our presence, she raised her head and met our eyes. A brief silence hung between the woman and the Supreme Mages. Her eyes held the satisfaction of someone airing out the house after a long-overdue deep clean. Seeing us, she hooked her left index finger into her mask and pulled it down.

"Oh? Mr. Soldiers?"

She was attractive enough to make me think, She's pretty even without a speck of makeup. Her eyes curved into lovely smiling crescents with delight.

"You're early, Mr. Soldiers! Way ahead of our appointment."

All while grinding and snapping the Amalgam's spine beneath her foot.

CR-R-RUNCH!

A chilling sound of rupturing bone rang out.

Just as we Supreme Mages found ourselves tightening our grips on our guns and knives, she spoke.

"In front of the Children's Grand Park fire station. Twelve o'clock. How nice to meet you!"

With her mask still lowered, the ponytailed woman raised her right hand and gave a gentle wave.

"I'm Go Ryeo-ha, the one who messaged you!"

I truly shuddered. Go Ryeo-ha. This woman had just used magic that was neither doctrinal nor alteration-type.