Chapter 10

It's Not Spam

It was around the time I headed to the restroom after reassuring the driver in the break room.

"I'm going to take care of some business."

"Ah! Operator, sir. Tissues. Take these."

"Huh?"

"The toilet paper might be out, right? Hehe."

Thinking I finally understood why Lieutenant Shin Hangi was so fond of the driver, I headed for the restroom.

There are people who say they'll plant an apple tree even if the world is ending.

The saying probably means preserving one's dignity by continuing everyday life even in the face of apocalypse.

Or perhaps it means refusing to be shaken by circumstances beyond one's control.

Either way, there were a lot more apple-tree planters in the world than I had expected.

For example, the line for the restroom was ridiculously long.

After waiting over ten minutes and still seeing no sign of the stall in front of me opening, I finally lost patience and pounded on the door.

"Come out! It's been over five minutes! Forget five—it's been thirteen!"

"Damn it, I'm constipated. I just got the signal."

"I can hear your phone!"

"What do you want me to do if I'm constipated? It's not like poop just comes out. You have to calm your mind, regulate your breathing, and push in a relaxed state."

"Turn off the phone first!"

"I think you're being rather rude, but since you seem desperate, I'll be the bigger person. Besides, I need to listen to classical music to relax my sphincter. It's loosening up right now."

"Good grief..."

BANG! BANG! BANG!

No matter how I looked at it, his bowel habits were obviously the reason for his constipation.

But the man beyond the stall had absolutely no intention of admitting it.

Three minutes later, another stall finally opened, allowing me to relieve myself in peace.

And even after I finished and came back out, the classical-music pooper was still in there.

People kept pounding on the door.

"Hey! You're not dead in there, are you?!"

"Did you run out of toilet paper?"

Eventually, people gave up and dispersed to other stalls.

After thoroughly washing my hands with soap, I passed by his stall.

And the scene was unbelievable.

"What the hell is this?"

Even someone like me, who knew nothing about classical music, could tell it wasn't classical.

In fact, I recognized it immediately.

It was one of those cute children's songs I'd heard when I went to church in boot camp because they were handing out hamburgers.

"Forward, little soldiers of Jesus~
With Jesus leading the way~"

Then a voice from inside the stall joined in.

"Fight bravely against the devil and claim victory~
We are the army of love~"

The classical-music pooper was singing along.

Feeling acutely aware of just how ordinary and insignificant I was, I quietly left the restroom.

With faith like that, he could probably awaken Dogma-type Magic without breaking a sweat.

Maybe he had simply never encountered the fog.

Or perhaps he was already a Dogma-type mage.

Wondering how someone as average as me had managed to manifest magic among such extraordinary people, I headed toward the most important task of the day.

A task I'd postponed because of all the chaos.

Food.

Returning to the break room, I immediately asked the driver:

"Come to think of it, I still haven't eaten."

"We set aside a meal for you. They reheated it so the Operators could eat together. Just head over there. As for me, the lieutenant ordered me not to leave the break room or approach anyone except Operator Baek Jemin."

Thanks to the thoughtful driver's directions, I made it to the cafeteria without being too late.

There, I saw the various religious figures and soldiers from the conference room carrying trays to their seats.

"Hey, Monk. Why'd you take the meat dish?"

"This humble monk has no intention of eating it. I accepted it only so others wouldn't feel self-conscious while receiving theirs."

"Oho~. Nobody dodges a question quite like a monk."

As Pastor Park Yohan and Monk Cheonghwi exchanged pleasantries, I grabbed a tray and joined the serving line.

The menu radiated the suffering of a nutritionist trying to provide the most varied and nutritious meal possible within a limited budget.

Stir-fried seaweed stems.

Kimchi.

Mashed boiled eggs.

And a pot of kimchi stew that at least looked like someone had tried to make it taste decent.

I desperately swallowed the words tickling the back of my throat.

This is definitely Suwon City Hall. Why does the menu look like this? Was this place secretly the military all along?

Now I needed a seat.

Unfortunately, nobody seemed to possess even a shred of teamwork.

Everyone had claimed entire tables for themselves.

No matter where I sat, I'd be eating alone.

In the end, I picked a random spot and started with the side dishes.

Surprisingly, the food was actually good.

As the saying goes, even a fallen herring retains its flavor.

Compared to the side dishes made from frozen meat blocks we used to thaw by beating them with shovels nine years ago in the army, this tasted like something made by a loving mother.

Finally relaxing, I continued eating.

Then a familiar face sat down across from me.

"Thanks to Operator Baek Jemin, I just got chewed out by the captain."

Lieutenant Shin Hangi had returned carrying two cans of Let’s Be coffee.

He slid one toward me.

Then, with great confidence, he produced a can of processed ham from inside his jacket and set it beside my tray.

"The meal looked a little lacking, so I brought what you were looking for. You wanted Spam, right?"

"Oh."

I remembered all those times people had tried to pass off luncheon meat as Spam.

But I decided to let it go.

The military had bigger problems right now.

Mixing a little extra grain into the ham was understandable.

Honestly, if you cook luncheon meat properly, it's hard to tell the difference from Spam anyway.

It's even less salty.

Humming happily, I accepted it—

Then my eyes widened.

"What the hell is this? It's Richam!"

"Whoa, whoa. Calm down."

"How am I supposed to calm down? It got downgraded from Spam to Richam!"

After a lengthy argument, Lieutenant Shin Hangi finally offered a compromise.

"You know mobilization orders have been declared, right?"

"So?"

"People are already talking about transitioning the economy to a wartime footing. At least in Gyeonggi Province. This stays between us."

"So?"

"So later on, you might not even be able to get Richam. Start stockpiling cigarettes if you smoke. Alcohol too. From now on, Operators in southern Gyeonggi will have to report to the military before traveling to other regions. And for the record, Richam actually contains more meat than luncheon meat. Consider it a substitute for Spam."

I accepted the can with a heavy heart.

Was this truly my last Spam-adjacent meal?

Feeling the bleak future of Korea more deeply than ever before, I peeled back the lid and immediately licked every last crumb from it.

"Operator, sir. Please stop. That's just sad."

"You throw away yogurt lids without licking them?"

"That's completely different."

"It isn't."

After finishing our meal and drinking our cans of Let's Be coffee, Lieutenant Shin Hangi and I headed back to the break room.

Everyone else was busy as hell.

The hallways were full of soldiers running around in a frenzy, while people who looked like government employees were hammering away at their keyboards so intensely they didn't even look up.

It felt strange that only Lieutenant Shin Hangi and I seemed to be enjoying something resembling an ordinary day.

Noticing my thoughts, Shin Hangi shrugged.

"So what, are you planning to believe in Catholicism, Protestantism, and Buddhism all at once?"

Theoretically, wouldn't someone become the strongest if they believed in every religion on Earth—Catholicism, Protestantism, Buddhism, Islam, shamanism, and everything else?

Apparently it wasn't that simple.

"You planning to learn Sanskrit, Ancient Hebrew, Ecclesiastical Latin, Classical Chinese, and Quranic Arabic, then read all of them?"

When we returned to the break room, the driver greeted us with a sharp salute.

The break room had somehow become a private space for me, Lieutenant Shin Hangi, and the driver.

I felt a little guilty toward everyone else, but we were all on emergency standby anyway, so I figured I might as well enjoy a few perks as a wizard.

"You just focus on learning your magic properly, Operator."

"Wow. Harsh."

I was a complete academic disaster who had never even taken the TOEIC and probably couldn't score over 200 if I did.

And now they expected me to learn a bunch of languages nobody in Korea even used just to study magic?

As Baek Jemin—the same guy who once escaped a tutoring session by claiming he was going to buy coffee from the convenience store—this was simply too cruel a trial.

"Well, people tend to underestimate religious folks, but there are plenty of intellectuals among them worthy of respect. At least the Operators we gathered are."

"Then introduce them. Some of them barely said a word."

At that, Shin Hangi pulled out a notebook and began explaining one by one.

"Pastor Park Yohan may look like that, but he runs a small independent church. He's known for reporting victims of cults and pseudo-religions who got scammed out of their life savings to the Korean Protestant Association, helping get those issues recognized as social problems. He's a bit money-minded, but apparently there's no other scandal attached to his name. He's also active in charity work."

That was surprising.

Judging by how often he called the monk "baldy," I had assumed he looked down on other religions.

"Though he does go absolutely ballistic whenever someone venerates Dangun. Calls it idol worship. He won't even speak to shamans."

"Sounds like a proper pastor, for better or worse."

"At least he's not a food pastor."

I had studied Christianity enough to understand.

Whether Catholic or Protestant, both ultimately worship a single God.

Being exclusive toward other religions was perfectly consistent with their doctrines.

From their perspective, the ones preaching tolerance and accepting all religions equally were the strange ones.

"And Monk Cheonghwi isn't an abbot, but he's known as one of the most dedicated scholars of Sanskrit Buddhist scriptures in Korea. He believes many Buddhist texts were lost because Buddhism was suppressed on the Korean Peninsula for so long. His goal is to directly translate scriptures that originally came through China into Korean."

"That sounds like worthwhile work."

"Apparently he's put that on hold lately because he's busy developing temple cuisine. He thinks promoting K-temple food could improve Buddhism's public image."

That sounded exactly like the kind of person I'd expected him to be.

A genuinely decent man.

"And Father Jeong Yonghwan used to serve as a deacon in a parish under the Seoul Archdiocese before being assigned to the Suwon Diocese recently. He's... unique."

"Unique how?"

"Well, Catholicism is actually a highly administrative organization. When we asked people higher up about him, they said his faith is sincere enough, but he keeps saying he won't waste the Lord's precious blood and ends up chugging sacramental wine. The man's a heavy drinker. Some people joke he became a priest just to drink legally."

I smacked my lips awkwardly.

There wasn't really a response to that.

"As for Bodhisattva Geulmun, he's a man who deliberately uses the title 'Bodhisattva.' Apparently that's caused him a lot of trouble over the years. So he's a bit prickly. He practices divination through written passages and has studied Taoism and the I Ching. According to him, recent changes in the heavens have been so significant that the I Ching alone can no longer be relied upon. Surprisingly cooperative with the military, though."

"The guy who called us sinister?"

"Well..."

Shin Hangi sighed.

"He's someone deeply connected to the dead. Maybe that gives him unusual intuition."

For a moment, I wondered whether Shin Hangi secretly thought we were creepy too.

"And the guy with the turban is Hamza. Pakistani. Muslim. Sunni, specifically. But Islam isn't exactly widespread in Korea yet, right? So we're still trying to determine whether his abilities count as Dogma-type magic or some entirely different category."

"But he said he eats pork belly with gochujang and drinks soju. Is he really Muslim?"

"By that logic, we shouldn't eat burgers, cola, or fries either. Doctors tell us they're killing us."

"Hmm..."

To my annoyance, I found his argument oddly convincing.

"Everyone else is like you, Operator Baek Jemin. Soldiers who awakened Alteration-type magic while on guard duty or through some other circumstance. Including you, there are two reservists. One active-duty soldier and one former noncommissioned officer."

"You're not going to introduce them?"

"Not yet. There's still too little information on Alteration-type magic. The military can talk to religious practitioners and compare notes, but Alteration-types only share one thing in common: some body part changes. We're worried people might influence each other or accidentally contaminate information, so introductions are being delayed."

"Huh."

Leaning back on the break-room couch, I absentmindedly popped my lips.

"If I'd known it'd be like this, I would've started going to church or a temple."

"Attending doesn't guarantee awakening. If it did, those monsters would've been wiped out already."

"Then maybe God really exists."

I meant it as a joke.

But Shin Hangi only looked uncomfortable.

"Believe it or not, there are groups arguing over exactly that. Some insist their god must be the real one. Others demand we stop calling it Dogma-type Magic and call it miracles instead. There's also resentment toward Operators who awakened Alteration-type magic. That's why the military prefers the neutral term 'Localized Intrusive Alteration Phenomena' instead of magic."

No matter where you went, sensitive people always ended up in charge.

Grumbling, I crushed my empty Let's Be can and tossed it into the trash.

Then I pulled out the magic handbook I'd received earlier and started flipping through it again.

"So. Is there a place where we can actually research magic?"

"You'll get assigned lodging first. Tomorrow we'll set up a dedicated space for the Operators."

At that moment, the driver, who had been listening intently from the side, cautiously spoke up in a voice mixed with fear, admiration, and excitement.

"O-Operator, sir. And Lieutenant."

"Go ahead. You're obviously curious."

After Shin Hangi nodded, the driver's eyes sparkled.

"Can Operators really shoot fireballs? Like, shoot lightning too? Summon spirits and stuff?"

At that, Shin Hangi looked directly at me.

I answered with complete seriousness.

"I can shoot fireballs."

"O-oh wow! R-really?!"

"I shoot molten lead heated red-hot."

"Ooooh..."

"Huh?"

Wiggling my fingers, I flashed a confident grin.

"After this whole disaster is over, I'm planning to max out my loans and head to Las Vegas."

Watching the driver slowly realize he'd been fooled, I burst out laughing.

"Just kidding."

"Ah—hahaha!"

"I can see ten seconds into the future."

Apparently Shin Hangi hadn't known that detail either.

His eyes widened in surprise as he stared at me.