Chapter 32

Magic Performance: 100%

By the time we returned to the truck convoy, the captain riding in the lead vehicle had already finished preparations for departure.

When he saw our Supreme Mage Trio climbing out of the armored vehicle and back onto the truck, his lips twitched slightly before he shut his mouth.

"Let's get moving."

Even without anyone saying it aloud, everyone seemed to understand.

It had been that kind of mission.

Even a special forces team would struggle to completely clear a building in thirty minutes.

Our Supreme Mage Trio quietly climbed into the rear of the military truck and spent some time catching our breath.

The damp air of Seoul's outskirts seemed to cling to the inside of my nose.

The sensation was unpleasant enough that I put my gas mask back on.

Around then, a monk and the curly-haired middle-aged woman climbed aboard our truck.

The captain briefly explained before boarding himself.

"They were judged on-site to be capable of localized infiltration-type mutation abilities."

Soon the soldiers finished boarding the armored vehicles.

The convoy began rapidly withdrawing from Seoul.

Engines roared.

Wheels rolled.

The drones buzzed overhead like giant hornets as they escorted the convoy.

Still, I couldn't relax.

The monsters we'd encountered in that abandoned hospital lingered vividly in my mind.

At that moment, the monk's chant echoed through the truck.

"Om Mani Padme Hum—"

The effect was immediate.

Just like what I'd felt back at Suwon Station.

The memories I wanted to forget quietly sank away.

The crushing fatigue weighing on my shoulders vanished.

Cold, clear rationality returned.

My muddy thoughts felt as though they had been washed clean by the scent of fresh pine needles.

Only then did I look toward the monk.

Lee Sejun and Shin Nain were also staring at him.

Sejun's eyes were filled with gratitude.

Shin Nain's face, meanwhile, was twisted into a frown.

"This wicked heretic monk dares steal away the trial God has bestowed upon me!"

"Nain, please... Thank you, Venerable."

Thanks to Sejun's hurried intervention, no incident occurred.

Fortunately, the monk seemed extraordinarily gentle.

He simply laughed.

"No, no. I merely meddled because it seemed these young people were carrying burdens too heavy for them. Of course, if one can endure such things alone, that itself becomes cultivation."

The elderly monk, his white eyebrows streaked with gray, smiled kindly before introducing himself.

"My dharma name is Wonhaeng. It means to establish great vows and put them into practice. If I am not mistaken, are you the group whom Cheonghwi referred to as Aphorism?"

"Aphorism?"

I reacted first.

I had no idea where the Jingak Order was, but since he knew Cheonghwi's dharma name, he clearly knew something about us.

The word Aphorism was what confused me.

Lee Sejun, however, couldn't care less about strange names.

He sighed and asked directly.

"You seem like a highly accomplished monk. Do you know us?"

"Highly accomplished? Haha... Even at my age, I remain a wandering monk whose shoes are practically worn through. I simply find myself curious about what Cheonghwi has been saying about Aphorism. We share a small connection, and so my thoughts keep returning to him. Merely a sign of my lack of cultivation. Please forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive."

Sejun's tone softened noticeably.

He seemed impressed by the monk's speech and demeanor.

Meanwhile, Shin Nain remained seated with his arms crossed.

Even after removing his gas mask, he looked determined to find fault with whatever the monk said.

Still, having someone to talk to during the journey out of Seoul wasn't bad.

The only other passenger besides the monk was the curly-haired woman, who was practically asleep from exhaustion.

Wonhaeng asked about our magic and seemed especially curious about Cheonghwi's role.

Judging from his attitude, "small connection" was probably an understatement.

At minimum, he and Cheonghwi seemed like senior and junior disciples.

Possibly even master and disciple.

But after hearing what we knew, Wonhaeng's eyebrows twitched.

"He's pursuing complete Korean translations of Sanskrit scriptures and Buddhist texts... that's what the military says?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Venerable? Is something wrong?"

A long silence followed.

Sejun grew visibly uncomfortable.

When he turned his head, Shin Nain had already plugged his earbuds back in and was quietly reciting hymns.

Eventually Sejun and I exchanged a look.

No idea, man.

We both shrugged.

Finally, Wonhaeng spoke.

"Cheonghwi originally belonged to the Seon tradition. Meditation and contemplation were his path. However, he became deeply fascinated by the systems of mantra practice and esoteric Buddhism. Eventually he transferred to the Jingak Order. They emphasize the Six-Syllable Mantra, immediate Buddhahood in this life, and purification of the present world. Of course, so long as one seeks enlightenment while saving sentient beings, there is no issue regardless of the path one follows..."

"Is there a reason you're telling us this?"

Sejun asked.

Only then did Wonhaeng arrive at his point.

"The translation of Sanskrit scriptures and Buddhist texts into Korean has already been largely completed. Interpretation has long since become the responsibility of individual Buddhists. Anyone interested can easily access such materials online or through libraries."

"But the military said Cheonghwi was working hard on scripture translation."

"That is likely true. He is probably translating something. I merely hope he has not strayed too far. He became obsessed with esoteric practices and mantras."

After saying that, Wonhaeng joined his hands and began praying quietly.

Sejun and I exchanged glances.

Meeting someone connected to Cheonghwi here felt almost too coincidental.

Wonhaeng had clearly come here hoping to learn something about him.

Had the military given him information?

Or had he volunteered as a civilian operator in exchange for access to information?

Either way, conditions at the front were clearly deteriorating.

Bad enough that the military was running mages through parallel systems as civilian operators and specialist soldiers.

A little later, Sejun slid closer and spoke quietly.

"What do we do, Jemin?"

"What do you mean, what do we do?"

Cheonghwi and Wonhaeng were obviously connected.

And sticking your nose into other people's relationships never ended well.

"Pretend we don't know. Keep it to ourselves. We've got enough problems managing the Supreme Mages."

Still, I made a mental note.

Cheonghwi.

Likely Wonhaeng's disciple or fellow student.

Shows interest in esoteric Buddhist practices and mantras.

Strong mystical tendencies.

Thinking it over, I finally understood why he had seemed so fascinated by mysticism during our conversation with the pastor on the twenty-second.

At the same time, a strange possibility occurred to me.

The military—especially Lieutenant Shin Hangi—had introduced Cheonghwi as a monk dedicated to translating Sanskrit scriptures and promoting temple cuisine.

But according to Wonhaeng, Korean translations of Buddhist texts were already nearly complete.

That led to an unsettling thought.

What if the things Cheonghwi was translating weren't actually Buddhist scriptures?

What if they were something else?

The South Korean government's response had been suspiciously organized from the beginning.

Almost unnaturally competent.

What if there was a reason?

What if something like the Necronomicon from the Cthulhu Mythos, or some newly discovered grimoire, actually existed?

What if humanity was in the process of translating it into human language?

"That's bullshit."

"Hm?"

"No, I'm calling myself an idiot."

"You're being surprisingly self-aware today."

Smack!

I slapped Sejun across the back and discarded the thought.

We were still in Seoul.

The fog was thinning.

Trenches, tanks, and armed soldiers were beginning to appear beyond it.

But it was still too early to relax.

I looked north one last time.

Toward the colossal wall of fog stretching hundreds of meters into the sky.

Once, people had dreamed of moving to Seoul.

Now they dreamed only of escaping it.

Only a handful of lunatics still clung to the dream of heading inward.

Maybe that was why my thoughts kept wandering into strange territory.

A grimoire?

Ridiculous.

I laughed at my own stupidity.

A grimoire could never exist.

One simple piece of logic disproved it completely.

Because if grimoires really existed...

Then naturally they should have sought out me, Baek Jemin, a man born with the talent of a Grand Archmage.

March 1, 2028 — 9:31 AM

For escorting magic-aptitude candidates in Seoul and helping identify an unidentified species, our Supreme Mage Trio received a substantial reward in military vouchers.

Mission completion: 40 vouchers.

Identification of the unidentified species designated Teratoma: 30 vouchers.

Total: 70 military vouchers.

But more important than the reward was our status.

People say the greatest thrill comes from climbing the social ladder and feeling the weight of influence.

A worldly sentiment.

Yet even I, who walked the path of the Grand Archmage, couldn't entirely disagree.

Allow me to introduce my newest hobby.

As I headed toward the dining hall, I handed a voucher to the quartermaster.

Keeping my poncho deliberately fastened, I declared proudly:

"Let's go. Sejun. Nain. It is time for the Supreme Mages to make their entrance."

"Amen, amen. Let us once more remind the faithless masses that the army of Jesus Christ has returned victorious."

"This is so fucking embarrassing..."

Lee Sejun, unable to abandon the mindset of an ordinary mortal, desperately tried to hide his burning-red face.

It was futile.

Though he was the weakest member of our trio, he remained a Supreme Mage.

There was an old saying:

A sharp awl eventually pierces through the pouch that hides it.

Meaning that true talent cannot remain concealed.

With that in mind, I threw open the dining hall doors.

BANG!

The Supreme Mages had arrived.

Instead of traditional robes, we wore military ponchos.

As we strode in proudly, every eye in the cafeteria turned toward us.

I'd deliberately chosen a time when soldiers, officers, civilian staff, and support personnel were all eating.

The effect was immediate.

Silence.

The entire cafeteria froze.

Even the clatter of utensils stopped.

I cupped a hand around my ear and quietly asked Shin Nain:

"Nain. Tell me what they're thinking."

"They're shocked. Amazed. They're stunned that you survived encounters with two unidentified species without injuries. They're talking about how you searched an abandoned hospital in Seoul, resisted psychic attacks, and recovered a survivor journal. Most of them can't stop talking about it."

"Mmm. Exactly."

That was where Shin Nain's value truly shined.

His ability essentially turned him into a community loudspeaker.

A perfect source of praise, admiration, and awe.

Lee Sejun even pulled his poncho hood over his face.

Apparently he intended to cultivate an air of mystery by hiding his features entirely.

"Can we stop screwing around and just eat?"

"Our Sejun is hungry. Fair enough. Let's go, church boy."

"Both of you are practically heretics, but nobody can expect perfection. You're still worthy crusaders of the Lord despite your shortcomings."

Our Supreme Mages were nothing if not humble.

"Auntie, extra cabbage please."

"Sure, sweetheart. Just make sure you save our boys."

Looking at the generous pile of seasoned cabbage she gave me, I felt strangely warm.

This was Korean kindness.

For once, Shin Nain smiled pleasantly.

"Auntie, have you considered attending church?"

"Oh dear. I go to a temple."

"I cannot allow a good person like you to burn in hellfire. I'll invite you every day when I come for meals."

"What kind of boy are you?"

Once we settled down with our trays, the cafeteria's whispers resumed.

This time, I didn't even need Shin Nain's ears.

I could hear them myself.

It paid to focus.

"Those guys are Aphorism? Aren't they completely insane? What the hell is with the ponchos?"

“Crazy or not, apparently they're the real deal. During the Suwon Station underground platform recapture operation there weren't a single casualty. Against those monsters. You know Major Kang Minsu, right? The by-the-book commander at Suwon Station. They say he's already filed requests to call them first whenever mages are needed.”

"Wow... so they're ridiculously skilled lunatics."

The soldiers couldn't stop talking about it.

The Devouring Spines.

The Amalgams.

Father Jeong Yonghwan.

Bodhisattva Geulmun.

Most of all, they kept praising our accomplishments at the underground platforms of Suwon Station.

What I particularly liked was the attention to detail.

Simply saying we'd successfully recaptured the station would've diminished the magnitude of our achievement.

But zero casualties?

That was the truly unprecedented part.

That was the detail worth emphasizing.

And that wasn't all.

I nudged Shin Nain in the side with my elbow.

He clicked his tongue as though he had no choice, then relayed another conversation with a smug smile.

This time it came from the officers and administrative personnel talking quietly in the corner.

"The variant discovered beneath Suwon Station. It's been classified as one of the existing unidentified species."

"Going to become an identified species?"

"No. Headquarters thinks it partially absorbs the memories and knowledge of consumed humans. They're delaying formal classification because it's considered dangerous information. Soldiers aren't supposed to know. Instead, if indoor entry becomes unavoidable, the recommendation is blood-reactive agents or grenades through the ceiling."

"Easy to say. Like that's the only thing we need to worry about. Wait—those three civilian operators fought one of those things and survived?"

"That's why they keep throwing everyone into the fog. Trying to produce even one more operator or specialist."

Mmm.

Music to my ears.

On the surface, they were discussing military policy.

But beneath it lay a subtle acknowledgment of how incredible the Supreme Mages truly were.

Direct praise often sounds hollow.

Real praise emerges indirectly.

The more you savor it, the richer it becomes.

Lee Sejun glared at me as though I were pathetic.

"Jemin. Aren't you going to eat?"

"I am eating."

His expression twisted into disgust.

Still, there were more important things to do.

Reluctantly ending my appreciation of these side dishes, the three of us finished our meal and returned our trays.

We were considerate enough to avoid overwhelming ordinary mortals with the radiance of Supreme Mages for too long.

Besides, today's real objective still remained.

***

As our Supreme Mage Trio marched confidently through Suwon City Hall in our ponchos, heads turned everywhere.

Some people looked away in fear.

Several soldiers saluted enthusiastically.

"Attention!"

"We aren't military personnel."

"We know, sir!"

Our destination was the makeshift chapel where the Supreme Mages were scheduled to gather.

Pastor Park Yohan and Venerable Cheonghwi were already there, arranging desks and chairs.

Pastor Park's expression looked particularly sour.

"Do you idiots seriously refuse to take those stinking ponchos off?"

I immediately objected.

"Pastor, I've realized what Aphorism truly lacks."

"What? And do you even know what Aphorism means?"

"Symbolism."

I spread my arms dramatically.

"We lacked a symbol."

Just look at the Taegeuk Cloak Group.

People avoided discussing them after their annihilation.

Lieutenant Shin Hangi sighed whenever their name came up.

Yet their impact was undeniable.

Among civilian operators in Suwon City Hall, they were probably second only to us.

All because of those capes.

"So your solution is making our noble Aphorism's symbol that disgusting poncho? Are you insane?"

Pastor Park's protest was already too late.

For two full days our Mutation Mage Trio had deliberately established ourselves throughout the cafeteria.

Supreme Mages.

The elite civilian operators who always wore ponchos.

The image had already taken root.

Only Cheonghwi understood.

"The virtue of humility is important. But what matters more is helping others through action. If your conduct benefits people, then what issue could there possibly be?"

***

The argument almost evolved into something meaningful.

Then Hamza arrived late, panting as he collapsed into the final empty seat.

"Huff... huff... I'm Aphorism too..."

This bastard had no presence and still managed to be late.

The moment I fixed him with a cold stare, he immediately corrected himself.

"I'm a Supreme Mage too."

"Mhm."

I smiled warmly.

Hamza was unquestionably one of us.

His Angel's Intuition was incredibly useful.

And we'd shared precious canned meat together.

That made him family.

Pastor Park, however, looked back and forth between us with visible concern.

"Pastor. Have you realized something?"

"Shut up, you little shit."

He adjusted his glasses irritably.

Soon afterward, Cheonghwi closed the chapel door and checked the bubble-wrap soundproofing around the room.

Only then did Pastor Park clear his throat.

"So. The journal you three recovered was sent to Pyeongtaek. We got the results. They specifically requested that only civilian operators be informed."

"Not even the colonel?"

"Nope. Headquarters will brief him separately."

Then both Pastor Park and Cheonghwi turned toward me.

"Baek Jemin."

Pastor Park's expression hardened.

"You really haven't touched Tongue Magic since then?"

"No."

Acceptance.

Transformation.

The possibilities—and dangers—of Tongue Magic were too severe.

I'd decided to postpone further experimentation until more research became available.

Today, however, new information had arrived.

And Pastor Park finally shared it.

***

"First, that concept the Venerable mentioned. The Five Aggregates. The five elements that constitute a human being."

He adjusted his glasses.

"The Americans and Korean mystics in Pyeongtaek think the five Mutation Magic systems represent symbolic frameworks defining humanity itself."

"That's missing a lot of information."

"Magic is symbolism. If everything were perfectly literal, it'd be a painting instead of a symbol."

The theories from the mystics stationed at the combined US-Korean command were as follows:

Eyes

Represent perception.

Human-centered worldviews.

Anthropomorphism.

Distortion itself.

Ears

Linked to the ancient concept of Musica Universalis—the Music of the Spheres.

The belief that celestial movements can be heard as sound.

Fate and divination likely stem from this association.

Heart

The ancient symbol of life.

Once believed to house the soul itself.

Represents human life and existence.

Hands

The journal described intelligence and alchemy.

The hand symbol resembles the Martian magic square.

Mars corresponds to fire and conflict in mystical traditions.

Since fire is essential to alchemy, the connection is obvious.

Human intelligence is one of humanity's defining traits.

Numerologically, the number five is also associated with mankind.

Tongue

Acceptance and transformation.

Human adaptability.

The most dangerous category.

Because it directly threatens human identity.

Misinterpretation or misuse could easily produce catastrophic inversions.

The journal's side effects likely represent magical reversals.

Do not experiment carelessly.

***

Pastor Park exhaled deeply.

"Which brings us to today's experiment."

He pointed directly at Hamza.

"That's why the Muslim is here."

Hamza immediately straightened.

"You."

Pastor Park jabbed a finger at him.

"Keep your head on straight. If something feels wrong, scream. Use that Angel's Intuition. If Baek Jemin starts going insane, stop him."

"Y-Yes! Aphorism—I mean, Supreme Mages! I'll keep things safe!"

"Shin Nain. Lee Sejun. If Jemin loses his mind, you're authorized to use force."

"Yes, Pastor."

"Huff... huff... Jemin. Don't hold a grudge if I hit you."

"Venerable, keep chanting. Hold his mind together."

"Of course."

***

Preparations began.

Tables disappeared.

Chairs were stacked away.

A circle of salt was drawn on the floor.

I stood alone inside it.

Pastor Park carefully inspected every grain.

"Salt's good. Perfect."

Then the ritual objects appeared.

Crosses.

Prayer beads.

Holy water.

Salt.

I wrapped them around my arms.

Holy water and salt were sprinkled over my head.

Candles surrounded the circle.

Prayers and mantras echoed together.

Only candlelight illuminated the room.

"Normally a proper purification ritual takes much more work. But Christianity plus Buddhism plus enough salt should keep the ghosts away."

He stepped back.

Everyone was staring at me.

"Begin."

Pastor Park's gaze was unwavering.

Slowly, I stuck out my tongue.

Bleh.

The scent of candle wax became taste.

I could literally feel my tongue tasting the air itself.

Then I activated:

Mutation Tongue System — Stage 1.

At that moment, my intuition recalled Father Jeong Yonghwan's clue.

"These magical symbols must possess pronunciation marks and tonal systems..."

A true language.

A language humanity could never fully express.

If the sounds made by the priest-monster were genuine magical incantations spoken by gods and monsters...

Then only the purest form of human language could possibly translate them.

Unfortunately, I barely managed one language as it was.

So I chose the simplest concept possible.

The purest meaning.

Tongue Magic wasn't a standalone ability.

Stage 1 was translation.

Reflection.

A reduction of magical truth into human language.

Without Father Jeong's clue, I might have tried eating monster corpses to figure it out.

Instead, I had connected it to language.

And I knew I was doing it correctly.

The only question was what to test.

After some thought, I chose Eye Magic.

The magic that allowed humans to see more than the three dimensions they were meant to perceive.

To complete Stage 1, I spoke what I wished to see.

"Time."

The effect was immediate.

My tongue ignited.

It felt like being branded with molten iron.

Taste buds split open.

Dark-red blood bubbled upward like lava.

Drops of blood fell from my tongue onto the floor.

Drip.

Drip.

Everyone stared.

Hamza's face turned white.

Yet he nodded.

"It's okay... it's working..."

Then he froze.

"Wait."

Something strange happened.

Hamza's lips weren't moving.

Yet I heard him.

No.

Not heard.

I was imagining the words.

Predicting them.

Then I reached toward my tongue.

It was fine.

No blood.

No—

My hand hadn't touched my tongue yet.

Something else appeared.

I was sitting down.

Smiling at Hamza.

Pastor Park looked confused.

Images overlapped.

Everything became layered.

Meaningless.

Past.

Present.

Future.

All at once.

I was seeing all of them simultaneously.

I wasn't supposed to.

The moment I realized that—

The magic shattered.

"BLUUUUAAARGH!"

I collapsed.

Lunch exploded from my stomach.

My hands plunged into vomit.

I couldn't even care.

Fuck.

Fuck.

My body shook violently.

Only after several long moments did I hear voices again.

"Baek Jemin!"

"Huff... huff..."

"Jemin! Can I punch him!?"

"No, you psycho..."

I immediately rejected Lee Sejun's suspiciously enthusiastic proposal.

Then wiped the vomit from my mouth.

Was it painful?

Only briefly.

Because right now—

I was exhilarated.

No.

That word wasn't enough.

My heart hurt more than if it had stopped entirely.

Not from fear.

Not from terror.

But from pure joy.

This was 100%.

The true performance of Mutation Magic.

This...

This was the true power of magic.