Chapter 87 - Okay, One Thousand Dollars

The negotiations between us Supreme Mages and the military were led by Pastor Park Yo-han and Major General Jeon Min-ho, respectively.

Of course, the generals had probably already settled on their decisions to some extent, but they seemed to have decided that Jeon, a fellow Korean, was the right man to negotiate with us.

Calling it a negotiation made it sound grander than it was. It boiled down to three main points.

The military had trouble accepting the existence of the gaze monster.

“The information you’ve provided on these unidentified species is immensely valuable. The problem is the gaze monster—the creature nicknamed the Lighthouse. You’ve never actually seen it, and all you know is that it’s in Lotte Tower?”

“General, that’s a monster you must never encounter in person.”

The pastor nodded gravely and spoke respectfully, but the response was firm.

“That’s the problem.”

Major General Jeon turned slightly to check each of the American generals.

They hadn’t said a word, but their expressions made their thoughts abundantly clear. General McKinsey, a blond white man with a stern face, was giving a wry smile, his eyebrows twitching. Lieutenant General Royce, the bald black man with kindly eyes, idly rubbed the scar beside his mouth. Brigadier General Thatcher, the black-haired white man whose drooping eyelids still made him look sleepy, reacted much the same way.

Speaking for them, Jeon turned back to us.

“Just now, Mr. Shin Na-in claimed to have used magic to read the minds of people in recorded footage. He said that was how he determined Unit 55’s tactics and intentions. What if the mutating rays this gaze monster supposedly emits can affect people through media such as video recordings? We would have no way to verify its existence without sending personnel in directly. Moreover, even analyzing it at headquarters would be dangerous.”

Jeon lightly scratched his forehead beneath his neat, close-cropped hair with an index finger as he continued.

“The ROK–U.S. Joint Command’s current policy is clear. Precisely because this is an unprecedented situation and an unknown threat, we have no choice but to demand greater certainty. We will temporarily suspend exploration around Jamsil, where the gaze monster is said to be, and put attempts to clear the nearby fog on hold. However, even with witness testimony, the military must deny its existence unless there is documented evidence. We ask for your understanding.”

The ROK–U.S. Joint Command and Reality Survival Command had decided to deny the existence of natural-disaster-scale monsters like the gaze monster.

Officially, at least.

Support for mages, however, would increase across the board, followed by institutional reforms.

General McKinsey smiled at Jeon and started spouting more shit.

Fuck. I couldn’t understand a damn thing, so I whispered to Shin Na-in, the Supreme Mages’ translator.

“What’s he saying this time?”

“It’s a bit blunt.”

“The moment he chose not to speak Korean to me, he was already beating around the bush. Translate it bluntly.”

How could babbling in English in front of a Korean count as being blunt?

To be blunt, you had to use a Korean’s native language so they could understand you easily.

Not even Na-in’s contemptuous stare could withstand my incisive, logical criticism. In the end, he stopped arguing and translated everything bluntly from then on.

“He says Koreans’ lives are going to get fucked.”

“Why?”

The whole of Seoul had been wiped out on the very first day of 2028. Weren’t our lives fucked enough already?

As it happened, Lieutenant General Royce murmured something regretfully in response to McKinsey, and Brigadier General Thatcher replied in the most businesslike tone he could manage. Through the translator known as Shin Na-in, I understood the following.

McKinsey: “I thought money was the only reason they were blocking discussion of a nuclear strike. Looks like Congress had reasons besides lobbying money. If Stage Three can do this much, we’ll have to be more careful questioning that rescued Stage Four local, too.”

Royce: “I’m concerned nonetheless. Maintaining and formalizing this cordon and martial law will severely infringe upon Koreans’ freedom and human rights. Moreover, while the Korean government made the correct military decision, abandoning ten million citizens is fatal for elected leaders. Civil affairs operations will be easier only if we publicly distance ourselves from the Korean government’s decision and declare that the United States had no part in it.”

Thatcher: “What does seem certain is that China is already making contact with Incheon and northern Gyeonggi in an attempt to build infrastructure for training mages. They are already forcefully presenting the elected Korean government to the international community as being under their control. China appears to be trying to gain the upper hand on the Korean Peninsula by applying diplomatic pressure, alleging that our command is an attempt to infringe upon Korean sovereignty, and then monopolize the infrastructure for training mages.”

Only then did I remember what state our country was in.

Right. Fuck.

On April 2, I’d heard that the Chinese People’s Liberation Army had moved into Ganghwa Island under the pretext of resolving the crisis and providing relief, effectively turning our government into a puppet regime.

Lee Se-jun and Hamza, who had even moved their chairs over to hear what Na-in was translating, looked grave as well.

“Is our country finished?”

“Se-jun, our nation’s fortune ran out the moment Seoul became a Sodom steeped in decadence and pleasure.”

“Ah... I-I’ll go to some country other than Korea.”

“Eat pork belly and drink soju, and you’re Korean too. Hamza, the soldiers will shoot you dead if you go to an airport or a port, so let’s just keep living here. Yeah? I’ll share my Spam with you.”

By then, Jeon was gently coaxing the pastor, who had turned into a yes-man, as he explained various benefits.

“From now on, one unit of military scrip will be convertible into one thousand dollars at a fixed exchange rate. However, you won’t be able to exchange dollars for military scrip. All supplies entering through facilities requisitioned by the military, such as Pyeongtaek Port here, will be purchasable only with military scrip. It will be more comprehensive, more capitalist, and freer than the scrip system implemented by the Korean military. Aphorism will be guaranteed the best treatment, with substantial benefits when converting or obtaining scrip. Your standard supplies will also be of higher quality and provided in larger quantities.”

“Do you have to make it about giving us more scrip? Can’t you just give us everything for free?”

Even our yes-man pastor stirred when money came up.

True to his money-loving nature, he was actively trying to haggle at a time like this.

Captain Kim Ho-un translated the exchange while sweating buckets. General McKinsey was the first to respond, laughing heartily.

“We'll pay you more than you can spend — but nothing's ever free. That's America for you.”

Even an English prodigy like me, with my glorious TOEIC score of 400, understood one thing.

Nothing was free.

Seeing the pastor’s dissatisfied expression, Jeon had Captain Kim produce another folder, as though he’d been waiting for this.

“Of course, there is a way for you to receive all of this free of charge: access to military supplies and priority supply allocation, priority fire support, field command authority and immunity within Seoul, legal protection useful even outside combat, future evacuation and protective services guaranteeing your families’ safety, and even U.S. citizenship. If you sign here and join the military, you can be assigned as specialist officers to the Joint Alteration Operations Group under Reality Survival Command, starting at first lieutenant—”

“Ahem, hem. A-he-hem!”

The pastor cleared his throat for no apparent reason. Maybe something had gone down the wrong way.

When Jeon’s desperate gaze turned toward the rest of us Supreme Mages, I hurriedly looked away.

Na-in had already closed his eyes and was pretending to pray. Hamza blinked as though he had no idea what was happening, while Se-jun frowned.

I poked Se-jun in the side and whispered.

“Se-jun, you could totally fucking make a career of this. Become a commissioned officer.”

“No. I have no intention of doing that.”

“Why?”

Se-jun turned to me with a remarkably serious expression.

“My loyalty isn’t something you can buy by offering more. Of course I’m afraid. I’m human too. I’m scared, I’m trembling, and I’m suffering. But this country reached out to me when I was at my lowest, even if it was only an administrative matter. When that country found itself in trouble, I felt I ought to risk my life to help it at least once.”

“...”

“The Republic of Korea has already paid the price for my loyalty. It doesn’t have to add anything more.”

Lee Se-jun.

A genuine man who understood chivalry, the sort you’d expect to find only in some old-fashioned martial arts novel.

“As long as I’m still a man.”

Poor Lee Se-jun. A man whose overflowing testosterone had turned him into a fucking idiot.

Meanwhile, Jeon was pouring out all sorts of explanations as he coaxed and cajoled our yes-man pastor.

“Of course! There’s no problem if you in Aphorism remain civilian Operators. With institutional support and the command’s protection, field commanders won’t actually be able to treat Aphorism carelessly. Moreover, travel abroad and leave will be permitted, albeit under military supervision, and unlike other civilian Operators, you will be exempt from fees for using military barracks facilities...”

“Any-thing we can get for free~?”

The pastor tapped the table as he spoke. Finally, Jeon sighed, looking fed up.

“A requisitioned building might be out of the question, but we also plan to provide shipping containers and equipment to support Aphorism’s independent activities. We’ll install electricity and running water so you can operate your own headquarters with basic amenities, accommodations, and cooking facilities.”

“Oh?”

This time, my eyes lit up.

Even if it was only a few shipping containers, they were going to give us a separate space entirely our own?

Guidance on connecting with private sponsors.

Jeon then explained that, once the systems for civilian Operators and specialist soldiers were properly reorganized, Korea would transform into something like a garrison state under military rule.

This time, he even gestured to Captain Kim to stop interpreting.

A conversation just for Koreans.

Pressing beneath his eyes, Jeon said,

“Anderson Mackenford. You know him, don’t you?”

At first, I couldn’t place the name, but Hamza jogged my hazy memory.

“The man who talks way too much?”

Ah.

That kind man who’d eagerly handed over precious ingredients like dragon’s blood incense and called me the best of the best still remembered us. Rich people with good character really were different.

I felt a warm glow of appreciation.

Though Jeon apparently felt otherwise.

“Now that they know you’ve returned, the circles connected to him are apparently very pleased. And it isn’t just them. You know how many powerful people are secretly or openly obsessed with occult things like shamans and geomancy? Rumors about heart-branch magic have spread, and as information about magic reaches the upper classes, Reality Survival Command is being inundated with pressure to release related information and allow private sponsorship.”

“Oh, hallelujah! Just what I’d expect of our brothers in faith. Hahaha...”

The way the pastor needlessly fiddled with his collar made quite an impression.

True to his Bible-thumping bastard nature, he never let an opportunity like this slip by.

“For a man of the cloth, aren’t you a little too fond of money?”

“Baek Je-min. Do you know how much money goes into planting a church? You need money to help people live properly. Getting every last bit we can out of opportunities like this is what the Lord wants of a pastor.”

Watching us, Jeon let out a deep sigh.

“Even if you like free things, be careful not to accept too much sponsorship. Ultimately, these people want you to share or leak information about magic. They may even ask you to escort them into the fog.”

Those were the three main points of our negotiations.

The military and the Supreme Mages.

Though we seemed like one body, we were two separate entities, and we brought things to a reasonably satisfactory conclusion with friendly smiles.

At least, that was how I saw it.

As Jeon gathered the folders and passed them to Captain Kim, the meeting began winding down, and we Supreme Mages stood up too.

SCRAPE!

Amid the overlapping scrape of chairs being pushed back, Jeon was the first to turn toward us.

I wondered if he had something more to say. Instead, to my surprise, he snapped a crisp salute.

“Civilian Operators of Aphorism. You answered the mobilization order at a time of the gravest national crisis, voluntarily chose to become civilian Operators, and were the only civilian Operators to volunteer for the first Seoul reconnaissance, which caused countless casualties. Though the road ahead remains long and arduous, as a soldier, I offer my deepest respect and gratitude for the courage you have shown.”

Then he approached us again and shook our hands one by one.

The American generals watching from behind applauded as well, then came over smiling to administer their own handshakes.

When my turn came, each American general reacted differently.

Brigadier General Thatcher said nothing. He simply gripped my hand firmly, shook it several times, and let go.

Lieutenant General Royce winked his left eye and squeezed my hand hard.

“Kimchi and Spam. As much as you want.”

I’d been most worried about General McKinsey, but this time he shook my hand properly instead of playing around.

He did, however, turn my hand this way and that during the handshake, then give a little chuckle.

“I heard you all volunteered. Put some muscle on and you'd really be something.”

With the handshakes over, the generals began filing out.

Captain Kim’s back looked especially burdened today as he did everything he could to assist all those stars up the stairs.

Once the generals had left and only us Supreme Mages remained, Kim wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead and turned to us.

“Excuse me. I know you’re tired, but could you help me tidy up?”

Se-jun, who was likewise wiping sweat from his forehead, spoke.

“Let me ask one question.”

“Yes. Go ahead.”

“If he’s a marshal, why does he have four stars?”

Only then did the rest of us exchange confused looks.

“Doesn’t a marshal have four stars?”

“Je-min. I’m not a soldier. How would I know?”

“What matters is faith, not some rank insignia. A man who knows to discuss nuclear strikes against Satan’s demons must have the spirit of a holy warrior.”

“I like the moon.”

Me, the pastor, Na-in, and Hamza.

Not one of us four knew.

“Well, it’s only restricted information anyway...”

Captain Kim let out a relieved sigh, as though it were nothing serious, and began straightening the chairs.

“The U.S. Third Fleet is scheduled to be forward-deployed toward Japan. Congressional approval is effectively assured, and they’re coordinating with Japan now. Once Congress gives its approval, General McKinsey will be promoted to marshal as well. Though he’s already one unofficially.”

* * *

We were shown to a barracks in a relatively quiet area.

Captain Kim and his driver checked its condition, but amid all this chaos, wasn’t it good enough to have lockers, beds, nice dry mattresses, and running water in a nearby shower room?

The pastor was the only one worrying about unnecessary things in a situation like this.

He even pulled Captain Kim aside for a conversation.

“More importantly, what about Ms. Go Ryeo-ha? Is she still being questioned?”

“Given her background, and the reports coming in about how extraordinary her hand-branch magic is, she’s going to be kept with the research side for a while. Of course, she also had contact with the mages over there, so she can’t be released right away.”

“Good grief~. She’s part of our Aphorism too! Aphorism!”

“Pastor, even if you keep pressuring me, there are procedures we have to follow...”

While the captain was being pestered by the pastor, we began claiming our spots in the spacious barracks with its eight beds.

I took the bed nearest the entrance, Na-in the farthest corner, Se-jun the middle, and Hamza the one beside mine. We naturally set down our backpacks and guns and began taking off our clothes.

Just then, Captain Kim’s driver unfolded a table for us and piled it with all the combat rations, snacks, cola, and other things he’d brought.

“Enjoy!”

“Thanks.”

“Not at all! Please wait here. If there’s any mess food left, I’ll bring some over. If not, I’ll go buy something at the PX. The captain told me to use his card to look after you civilian Operators!”

Captain Kim’s driver was a fellow with narrow eyes and plump cheeks.

Just as his obliging little bow and hurried turn were warming my heart, I felt an odd sense of déjà vu and called him back.

“Wait.”

“Huh? Yes!”

“You’ve taken your name tag off too. What’s your name?”

“Ah! Corporal Son Ga-in! My parents gave me that name because I was their pretty only son!”

“Right. Just tell us where the showers are, then you can go.”

“Yes! Leave the barracks and take the first left. They’re communal showers, but it isn’t the scheduled shower time yet, so you should be fine using them!”

Captain Kim’s driver, Corporal Son Ga-in, politely explained in a suitably pitched voice, then turned away again.

Apparently, knowing the reality of the cordon while not having to stand on it himself was what made him such a super-ace soldier.

While I was sending Corporal Son on his way, Se-jun, who had already polished off a bag of snacks, grabbed a handful of potato chips and asked,

“Why did you ask his name?”

It was a casual question, tossed out to keep his mind occupied while he stuffed his face.

But Na-in, who had probably been quietly eavesdropping on people’s thoughts, grinned and nipped through a cracker with his front teeth.

“Heh heh... Yes, why indeed?”

Hamza was securing a bottle of cola first, slipping it into his backpack as though afraid someone would steal it.

All while glancing at me.

I wondered just what kind of bastard I was in Hamza’s head, but this time I decided to let it slide.

Instead, I shrugged and pulled out the smartphone I’d treasured like a sacred relic in my innermost pocket.

“No reason.”

The smartphone, which had run down even while switched off, still had a tiny bit of battery left.

It vibrated with a buzz.

Two percent battery, but that was enough to check the time.

“I just thought it was a little odd to know someone’s face but not their name.”

7:23 p.m., April 25, 2028.

At last, we Supreme Mages were resting in the truest sense of the word.

Listening to the pastor and Captain Kim still arguing outside the barracks, I switched my smartphone off again and decided to put my hands to work.

“Captain Kim’s driver is great and all, but he didn’t bring us coffee.”

“Je-min, stop giving people shit. Do I really have to knead your temples to make you come to your senses?”

“Heh heh heh...”

“Je-min, open a can of Spam for us. Let’s all share it.”

The end of the world was upon us.

But my grimy hand was busy grabbing a potato chip to eat right now.