Chapter 84 - The World After Eleven Days

When you’re busy laughing and talking, it’s easy to forget the present. Joy and elation drive people forward, but they are also like a drug that dulls the senses and lets you turn away from reality.

That is why, every so often, you have to look back at the city streets stained with concrete dust and blood.

For us Supreme Mages, Suwon City Hall served as that reminder.

We climbed out of the military truck we’d transferred to in Gwangju, Gyeonggi Province, and found ourselves looking at a literally wrecked Suwon. If the soldiers waiting for us hadn’t approached with salutes and cries of “Loyalty!” we might have stood there in a daze.

Once again, the soldiers had removed their name tags, so we couldn’t tell who they were. Every officer and NCO had taken theirs off; the enlisted men following them still wore theirs.

The NCO who approached us was a sergeant first class with sunglasses perched on his helmet and lips that stuck out like a duck’s bill.

“Loyalty! Five civilian Operators from Aphorism and one rescued local. May I confirm your head count?”

“Yes, yes.”

While Lee Se-jun answered reflexively, the rest of us stared around Suwon with our mouths hanging open.

Just eleven days. Not even two weeks, yet Suwon looked nothing like it had before.

Soldiers in ragged-looking ponchos and gas masks hurried toward an alley near Suwon City Hall. One carried a flamethrower, visibly struggling under the weight of its heavy fuel tank.

The NCO leading them was gesturing and shouting.

“Incident in progress! Incident in progress! Repeat the rules of engagement! No rescues! Shoot to kill, no exceptions!”

“N-no rescues! Shoot to kill, no exceptions!”

And there were far more than one or two squads like that.

Armored vehicles and military Humvees sped down the roads, training their machine guns on every alley entrance. Three-man patrols armed with shotguns and rifles kept a tight watch over the streets.

I stared blankly at the scene before asking the duck-billed sergeant, “Has the line been breached?”

“Pardon? Oh... We’re pulling together every specialist soldier and civilian Operator we can to hold them off. It’s still within manageable limits, so command has ordered us to hold Suwon Station at all costs.”

“What about Seongnam?”

The duck-billed sergeant lowered the sunglasses from his helmet.

“The line there was breached once. They’re scheduled for quarantine screening.”

“Screening? You can actually do that?”

Se-jun, who would know the military’s circumstances better than any of us, immediately asked the question. He couldn’t have been the only one thinking it.

The other Supreme Mages looked at the duck-billed sergeant in surprise. As for Go Ryeo-ha, standing with her arms crossed and her eyes already narrowed viciously, her feelings were plain enough without words.

Noticing our looks, the sergeant gave a short sigh, clicked his tongue, and answered.

“There are at least ten thousand troops holding Seongnam alone. Kill them all, and we won’t have anyone left to man the cordon. Command’s policy is that even if we shoot every civilian dead, we have to screen out the soldiers who can still hold the line.”

“Well, isn’t that something. Civilians aren’t useful, so they can just die?”

At the pastor’s biting question, the duck-billed sergeant shrugged.

“In exchange, the troops deployed in Seongnam can never be reassigned to the rear. They have to keep fighting there until they die. I understand what you’re upset about, but, haah... The second cordon nearly fell, especially Suwon, and nobody’s in their right mind. Be careful going around asking things like that. Some bastards really will shoot you.”

His voice carried conflicted feelings and regret, but also the conviction that this was only natural. At last, the pastor fell silent, visibly troubled.

In exchange for being allowed to live, they had to give up any reassignment to the rear. It was a short directive, but its cruelty was unmistakable.

For the crime of letting the monsters break through while holding the first cordon, the soldiers deployed in Seongnam were now condemned to fight that horrific army and, in the end, be trapped for eternity.

Ryeo-ha, still standing with her arms crossed, stopped acting quite so viciously. She, at least, was the most friendly toward the military.

“So they’ve ended up in the same boat as us.”

I remembered a familiar face, and couldn’t escape a strange mix of feelings either.

First Lieutenant Shin Han-gi.

The affable young lieutenant who’d encouraged me to awaken as a mage and become a civilian Operator would never be allowed to leave Seongnam now. He had been sentenced to hold its cordon until this monster crisis ended—or until he was trapped in a monster’s body, with eternity stretching before him.

After trapping ten million people in Seoul to die, the soldiers themselves were trapped. Was this karma?

With an oddly quiet Shin Na-in and a teeth-chattering Hamza following along, we were escorted to another vehicle. As the duck-billed sergeant led us toward the back of yet another military truck, he told us several things.

“Military police are rounding up everyone who ignored the mobilization order and dragging them off to be conscripted as civilian Operators or specialist soldiers. They load them onto trucks and take them into the fog. Try to run, and you’re shot on the spot. If you introduce yourselves only as civilian Operators, frontline troops will resent you, so make sure you tell them you’re Aphorism too.”

“What’s the difference between the two?”

“Specialist soldiers are localized penetrative... Fuck. Pastor, you don’t mind if I call it magic, do you? We conscript all the magic users who can identify monsters and assign them to units as specialist soldiers. The less useful ones, or people with low social credibility, like petty criminals, get shunted into civilian Operator roles and excluded from the military supply network.”

“You there, soldier. Can’t male shamans and the like tell them apart reliably?”

The pastor asked, thinking of Madam Geulmun.

I saw Ryeo-ha’s shoulders twitch slightly too. Shamans had the doctrinal magic [Spirit Sight]; apparently, the pastor wanted to know whether they were also being conscripted as specialist soldiers. Or perhaps he was worried Ryeo-ha might be dragged off as one.

Pastor Park Yo-han might be stern with the boys, but he was endlessly soft and gentle with a girl he saw as a daughter.

Escorting us along with his soldiers, the duck-billed sergeant turned slightly at the pastor’s question and slid his sunglasses down to the tip of his nose. Before long, his impassive expression gave way to a faint chuckle.

“People who can distinguish them that reliably are used separately as quarantine inspectors. They’re valuable personnel, so we don’t send them to the front. I hear they lost a valuable shaman while taking in an evacuation train at Suwon Station, and since then they won’t send them anywhere dangerous.”

Just then, a sound like a swarm of hornets passed overhead, and I looked up without thinking. Quadcopter drones buzzed loudly as they busily circled above the buildings.

The sky they flew through was utterly clear. Only then, comparing Suwon’s sky to the ground below, did I notice the faint, whitish fog hanging over every road and alley entrance.

Around that time, loud sirens sounded across Suwon, followed by an announcement with slightly distorted pronunciation.

“—Fog Depth Level One alert issued for the vicinity of Hwaseo Station. Fog Depth Level One alert issued for Hwaseo Station...”

As the announcement sounded, I caught sight of something strange beyond the vehicles being loaded with supplies.

Soldiers wearing helmets and full kit had all put down their rifles and knelt with their hands clasped in prayer. Before them, a military chaplain in a gas mask made the sign of the cross and prayed.

“Lord Jesus Christ, we beseech you: have mercy upon these men who seek to defend their nation and people, their beloved neighbors and dear friends, and their precious families. Protect them and grant them repentance and grace. Merciful Virgin Mary, pray to Christ for them. We ask this through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

The soldiers bowed their heads and answered through their sobs.

“Amen.”

I heard the pastor snort loudly, but everyone ignored him and walked on. Fortunately, he didn’t start an argument either.

Leaving aside the fact that he considered them unforgivable heretics, he apparently worried that criticizing them would also mean condemning soldiers desperate to clutch at even one more straw.

I was touched to see our pair of Christian nutjobs showing some maturity and keeping quiet.

“Just like those Mary-worshipping bastards. They’re good at peddling the name of the Mother of God.”

“Pastor, should we knock on the doors of their souls with our rifle butts until they come to understand the Sacred Heart?”

“No. Once they hear the gospel and their spirits awaken, they’ll naturally shun that bastard nonsense. We can hasten that day, but indiscriminate violence can close their spirits off instead.”

I take it back.

I glanced around to see what everyone else was doing, and the first person I spotted was Hamza, shivering.

“What’s wrong? Is it because of Ryeo-ha?”

“No... It feels like I’m walking on ice. It wouldn’t surprise me if it collapsed at any moment.”

“How fascinating! That was perfectly normal in Seoul.”

“Huuuh...!”

Just as I tried to talk to him, Ryeo-ha barged in.

I made a quick decision and backed away without a second thought, leaving Ryeo-ha to Hamza. His eyes darted around wildly as he mouthed something.

It looked like he was calling me a traitor. Absolutely not.

Considering how long I’d been handling her, it was time to rotate.

“So, Mr. Muslim, where are you from?”

“K-killing me won’t get you any relics.”

“What? Mr. Muslim, just what do you take me for?”

Okay.

While her attention was on Hamza, I moved closer to the duck-billed sergeant.

“Can’t you just put us in one vehicle and send us straight through? Actually, where are we going now?”

“Oh. Nobody told you? You’re going to Pyeongtaek.”

“Pyeongtaek?”

“The CP is staying in Suwon, but because of the risk, the VIPs are going to Pyeongtaek.”

The duck-billed sergeant was extremely helpful. Most likely, the biggest reason was that we Supreme Mages were different from most civilian Operators.

According to him, the armed forces wanted to keep a certain minimum number of vehicles in eastern Seoul, where rapid resupply and redeployment were difficult, to preserve at least some transport capacity. As a result, no vehicles went directly from Namyangju to Suwon. Naturally, the same applied to vehicles heading for Pyeongtaek.

It seemed cumbersome, not to mention a waste of fuel and manpower loading and unloading supplies, but apparently the separate quarantine checks at each hub were reasonably effective. If an unauthorized vehicle moved, or a license-plate check showed that a vehicle had strayed outside its authorized area, they simply shot the occupants dead.

He added that for cargo difficult to unload, such as heavy artillery shells, they sometimes only changed drivers. Even then, there was a procedure for passing inspection by the specialist soldiers or shamanic quarantine inspectors stationed at each hub.

The vehicle assigned to us was a considerable distance away. We barely reached it by the time he’d finished explaining all of this.

“There are a lot of vehicles that need to leave immediately, so we parked yours a little out of the way. I’ve contacted the driver and the escort officer. They’ll be here shortly.”

He was right. We’d only spent a few dozen seconds tapping our feet when two men in full kit came jogging over from City Hall.

The escort officer was even a familiar face.

“Civilian Operators of Aphorism. Congratulations on your safe return.”

It was Captain Kim Ho-un, the practical, field-ready officer with prominent cheekbones who had served as First Lieutenant Shin Han-gi’s senior mentor. After one crisis after another, the dark circles under his eyes had sunk almost to his cheekbones.

Na-in greeted him with a gentle smile.

“It’s good to see a familiar face again.”

“Yes. It is. In times like these, that counts as good fortune.”

Captain Kim Ho-un gave a bitter smile. Just then, my Stage One ear penalty picked up his thoughts.

'I’m still a lot better off than Lieutenant Shin...’

I didn’t make any needless comment. Finding comfort in the present by comparing it to the worst wasn’t human cowardice. It was a perfectly natural instinct.

We climbed into the back of the truck and finished getting ready to leave for Pyeongtaek with Captain Kim Ho-un.

Then the duck-billed sergeant who had guided us snapped into a crisp drill movement and, together with the six soldiers following him, gave us a sharp salute.

“We thank Aphorism’s civilian Operators for their courage and voluntary service.”

Their movements were perfectly precise.

Well, now.

They really didn’t have to do this...

“Everyone, attention! With respect—salute!”

The wheels began rolling again.

In the rattling truck bed, I couldn’t suppress the twitching corners of my mouth as I watched the duck-billed sergeant and his soldiers hold their salutes until we were completely out of sight.

But the streets of Suwon we encountered after leaving City Hall were nowhere near as bright and lively as we were.

As we drove along, we Supreme Mages and Ryeo-ha watched people make their way through the faint fog. Soldiers stood ready to aim their rifles at civilians trudging painfully along. Elderly men and women carried bundles of belongings, military scrip clenched tightly in their hands. Children who understood nothing simply looked around.

And military police gestured toward empty buildings, preparing to storm inside.

“—Fog Depth Level One alert lifted for the vicinity of Hwaseo Station. Fog Depth Level One alert lifted for Hwaseo Station...”

CLUNK!

In the swaying truck bed, our conversation and laughter slowly faded away.

Under the blank stares of people watching us being driven off, we Supreme Mages and Ryeo-ha gradually began to feel once again that we were right in the middle of it all.

And the Han River—had it become another world? A deep sea?

Having faced that cold, empty abyss, I felt it all the more keenly.

Something worthy of being called the apocalypse had arrived.

The world I had lived in, the world I was living in, was collapsing now.

* * *

It was still afternoon when we arrived in Pyeongtaek.

Unlike Suwon’s dreary, tense atmosphere, Pyeongtaek was comparatively much brighter and livelier. That was only natural, given that it was a functioning headquarters responsible for supplying Seoul and the surrounding Gyeonggi area.

Once we passed through the tight security and reached the roads, the drastically changed atmosphere became unmistakable. It felt like only yesterday everyone had been making a fuss about rural depopulation, yet now every commercial building that had once displayed a “For Rent” sign was packed with people.

Columns of refugees overflowed along the sidewalks, while distribution trucks parked by the roadside busily handed out relief supplies on a first-come, first-served basis.

After passing through part of the outskirts and approaching Pyeongtaek Port, we saw American soldiers among clusters of hastily erected temporary buildings. With all that English jabbering carried over on the breeze, there was no mistaking them.

The ROK–U.S. Joint Command appeared to be based near Pyeongtaek Port, screening supplies as they were loaded and unloaded, providing temporary quarters for foreign troops dispatched from overseas, and serving as an encampment for American troops.

The port area, packed with containers and tents, looked like a completely different world to us after Suwon.

American soldiers with their weapons slung laughed together as though trading trivial jokes. Some sat on ammunition cans in the sunlight, licking ice cream.

South Korean soldiers were mixed in too. Apparently interpreters, they trotted after Korean officers, chattering nonstop between them and the American officers.

We disembarked at a guard post near the fence, manned by sharply disciplined American soldiers. They checked the vehicle’s license plate, verified Captain Kim Ho-un’s authorization, and finally had some middle-aged woman come out to look us over. Her eyes soon widened.

“Oh my. You there, student!”

“Who? Me?”

As I looked around, the woman pointed directly at me, her neatly combed long hair swaying.

“Yes. Who else looks young enough to be a student? You haven’t received spirit power or anything, have you?”

“No.”

“Thought so! Goodness. You American military gentlemen, this one’s fine. He might die, but yin energy will never take hold of him. Pure yang, pure yang!”

The interpreter who had accompanied her said something with an awkward expression, and the Americans raised their eyebrows as they looked us over. Fortunately, it didn’t seem to be any real issue, and they let us through.

Once we parked, however, an unexpected commotion broke out. Ryeo-ha had confirmed the truck had stopped and was about to be the first to hop down when the soldiers hesitated and parted. Fully armed troops dressed in black poured through the gap.

With soldiers covered from head to toe approaching, ready to aim their weapons, the atmosphere inevitably turned icy.

“Who is the local survivor rescued from Seoul?”

“That would be me. Is there a problem?”

It was an uncharacteristically short, firm answer from Ryeo-ha. Looking closely, I saw she had already pulled her mask up and wasn’t smiling with her eyes either. Her gaze was cold and razor-sharp, but the soldiers confronting her looked just as fierce.

“You will undergo additional searches, questioning, medical examination, and treatment separately from Aphorism’s civilian Operators. Given the circumstances, we ask for your cooperation and your understanding regarding this show of force.”

“Haah... This is why I hate the military. Now you see why people in Seoul hate them, don’t you?”

Rather than answer the soldiers, Ryeo-ha turned to us and smiled brightly. Then, with a fluttering wave, she hopped down and followed them with surprising compliance.

“Will you show me the way, then? If you hurt me, I’ll hurt you too.”

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

The soldier who had spoken gave a hand signal. Maintaining an impenetrable watch over Ryeo-ha and their surroundings, they began taking her away.

As I quietly watched Ryeo-ha recede into the distance, the pastor fussed and struck me in the side.

“Hey, hey! Je-min! Shouldn’t you stop them? Huh? Think how much Ryeo-ha cared about you!”

“They say she’s going to get cleaned up. What’s the point of stopping her from going to the laundry?”

“You little punk, what kind of way is that to talk?”

Unlike the furious pastor, Hamza—who had briefly suffered in my place—hopped down first, his eyes hollow with exhaustion.

“Christian nutjob pastor. Stop it and get down. You’re making me want to hit you.”

“Islam Boy, you?”

“Want me to make you a martyr?”

Apparently, super-macho Hamza came out when he was tired.

Christian nutjobs were crazy too, but a Muslim going crazy was even scarier. Even the pastor climbed down quietly, and Na-in, who should have fired back a retort, followed with his mouth clamped shut.

Se-jun’s eyes widened as he looked at Hamza, and he raised a thumb.

“Hamza, I bet you’re popular back home.”

“I don’t want to be popular with you, Se-jun.”

I hopped down too, and Captain Kim Ho-un climbed out with the driver, looking tired. Still, he seemed to have overheard our conversation, because he was chuckling.

“I’ll escort you from here.”

That smile made the weight on his shoulders look a little lighter.

Our destination wasn’t an ordinary tent or container. We headed into an underground bunker, apparently dug out by excavators in the time we’d been away. It was clearly improvised, but the neat finish showed they’d put some care into building it.

Once I sat in a chair inside the stark white bunker, my boundless imagination slowly began to bloom.

“What if they’re locking us in here to kill us all? With gas?”

“Je-min, please stop imagining horrible things like that. Why would the military bother killing us?”

Na-in gave me so much grief that I had to let my imagination go without ever giving it room to spread its wings.

About ten minutes passed like that.

We’d been tense at first, but after ten minutes, everyone had slumped into their seats. Only Captain Kim Ho-un kept checking his wristwatch and tapping his foot anxiously.

Se-jun spoke up, apparently bothered by it, but it did no good.

“Captain Kim, you’ll shake all your luck away tapping your foot like that.”

“...”

Captain Kim Ho-un clearly had his mind elsewhere.

I was just about to close my eyes and get some sleep, figuring there couldn’t be much to worry about.

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP.

At the alert, Captain Kim Ho-un picked up his phone and checked it, then turned to us looking a little pale.

“Marshal McKinsey, the current commander of the ROK–U.S. Joint Command, is coming, along with generals from Reality Survival Command under the joint command.”

My eyelids flew open of their own accord.

What?