Chapter 75

Although the two were troublemakers, they were still mentally sound.

We Supreme Mages worked to reestablish radio communications while keeping the ticking time bomb that was Go Ryeoha close at hand.

Of course, it wasn't as if simply flipping the switch on the radio would immediately establish contact.

Nor should it.

The 66 Society had repeatedly demonstrated that they were capable of intercepting even military communications. Exposing our location was one thing, but openly broadcasting conversations as well was something that even an idiot like me could recognize as a stupid move.

So I proposed a division of personnel.

A lineup that would minimize the chance of the 66 Society eavesdropping, make full use of the military radio, and even improve our luck.

"Ms. Go Ryeoha and Mr. Sejun, stay here with Hamza and the Pastor and work on restoring communications. Shin Nain and I will head to the student union's underground cafeteria and have a talk."

"Huh? Is that really necessary? Considering you're still wearing a military uniform, I'm worried you'll only provoke people if you meet them..."

The one who immediately objected wasn't the Supreme Mages.

It was Go Ryeoha.

With the eyes of a drenched puppy, she looked around at us and voiced her concerns.

At first glance, it seemed like she was worried about us.

But that wasn't the truth.

Those eyes were afraid that her shallow madness would fade and force her to confront reality again.

And naturally, if Go Ryeoha swallowed the red pill, her fragile mind would be torn to pieces.

Once the reason she barely maintained through that shallow madness collapsed, I wasn't even sure she'd still be able to distinguish friend from foe.

The Supreme Mages could defeat her.

But even if we won, the cost would be enormous.

With no guaranteed means of escape, picking a fight and burning through all 300 remaining rounds of ammunition would be the sort of thing only the dumbest idiots imaginable would do.

Rather than spending 300 bullets to restore Go Ryeoha's sanity, I chose to keep feeding her the blue pill.

Some people might think helping Go Ryeoha regain her senses was important.

But I, the Great Archmage Baek Jemin, scoffed at such romantic nonsense.

Regardless of whether Go Ryeoha was a respectable senior mage and an extraordinarily generous teacher, her sanity wasn't more important than the safety of the Supreme Mages or 300 rounds of ammunition.

Concealing those thoughts, I put my gas mask back on and said:

"Still, we can't just avoid saying hello. I won't be alone. Ms. Nain is coming with me."

"Then I'll come too. I'm worried because those people are pretty rough."

"Ms. Go Ryeoha, you need to stay here in case the radio breaks down. None of us know anything about handling machinery."

"But still!"

The cry that escaped Go Ryeoha's lips was closer to a scream.

At some point, her eyes had become slightly bloodshot.

Only after every Supreme Mage turned to look at her did she seem to realize how unnatural her behavior was.

She hesitated and slowly stepped back.

With both hands clasped in front of her stomach, she lowered her head and fidgeted with her fingers.

"...Can't you just stay here with me?"

The one who made the biggest fuss at that sight was, unsurprisingly, the Pastor.

Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he adjusted his glasses and dabbed at the corners of his eyes.

I wondered what he was doing, only to realize he was wiping away tears.

Unable to hide his sorrow, he even began silently sobbing.

"How much suffering must that child have endured... It's all because of useless adults like us. Sigh. I'm a sinner before Ms. Ryeoha. A sinner."

"Pastor. What if it had been Mr. Sejun instead?"

"Baek Jemin. Compare things that actually belong together. Is Sejun the same as Ms. Ryeoha? Men are supposed to suffer when they're young!"

At that moment, Lee Sejun's narrowed gaze shifted instantly from Go Ryeoha to the back of the Pastor's head.

The look burning in his eyes was pure vengeance.

But I didn't bother mentioning it.

That was when Shin Nain approached and tapped my shoulder.

Turning around, I saw her tapping her headset with a finger and tilting her head.

A signal.

I focused my mind and established telepathic communication.

'Why are we specifically going down to the student union basement?'

Shin Nain.

You spoke with the dead and determined that there were exactly 250 people.

But when we first went down there with Go Ryeoha guiding us, no matter how carefully I looked, there were only a few dozen corpses.

It's possible more had been buried elsewhere, but considering Go Ryeoha's condition, she would've never accepted that they were dead in the first place.

In that situation, would she really have secretly buried the bodies somewhere?

The same Go Ryeoha who still left fresh instant rice in front of the corpses?

Even if she considered it ancestral offerings, one fundamental question remained.

Compared to the figure of 250, there were obviously too few bodies.

I need to count the corpses accurately and use my Past Vision to determine how they actually died.

Shin Nain, the reason I'm bringing you is so that your Ear Stage 3 can estimate the exact time of their annihilation.

"That makes sense. Even if it was two months ago, there are too many suspicious details. I was planning to ask you for help anyway because my Past Vision can only see a few hours into the past. Even if I accept the backlash, I can only examine a single day. Besides, the dead don't necessarily tell the truth."

You had already anticipated that much?

I clicked my tongue inwardly at Shin Nain's thoughtfulness.

Someone who seemed this intelligent—how had she failed to awaken Hand magic?

The answer arrived immediately.

"Human memory and perception are easily distorted. That is why one must rely not on mankind's pitiful experiences and senses, but solely on the Lord God. Only the Lord is the one true constant, the sole eternal and immutable truth upon which humanity can rely in this vain and wicked world."

What a load of bullshit.

I immediately ended the telepathic connection.

By then, the Pastor's fussing had considerably calmed Go Ryeoha down.

"Baek Jemin said he was a candidate to lead our church's youth ministry, didn't he? He's not just going to say hello. At times like this, we have to encourage people to believe in the Lord even more. Missionaries are supposed to spread the Gospel even when people curse at them or beat them."

"Pastor... but..."

"If you keep clinging to him like this, you'll only make things harder for Baek Jemin. Right? We all know how kind-hearted you are. Goodness, how can someone be this sweet?"

"Tch."

"Mr. Sejun, p-please stop. It's unpleasant to watch..."

Seeing Lee Sejun click his tongue while glaring at the Pastor with folded arms, while Hamza desperately tried to mediate, made my head ache.

I decided it was time to escape this unbearable environment.

"Anyway, we'll be back."

"I'll help Mr. Jemin."

"Good. Jemin and Nain, off you go. I'll take gooood care of Ms. Ryeoha."

And so Shin Nain and I left the laboratory, entrusting Operation Blue Pill to the overly enthusiastic Pastor.

As we climbed the stairs again, we switched to speaking aloud.

"Let's go, Shin Nain. The fool who's apparently dumber than Lee Sejun and couldn't get Hand magic."

Having read my thoughts, Shin Nain calmly offered her own theory.

As insane as she was, there was one convenience:

I didn't need to waste time explaining things. She absorbed information on her own.

The fact that she was useful only made her more annoying.

"Mr. Jemin. The 66 Society definitely didn't tell Ms. Go Ryeoha everything. In fact, they may have intentionally mixed false information in with the truth in case it leaked like this. Most of it is probably accurate, but the claim that Hand lineage aptitude corresponds to intellectual ability is likely false. Innate talent is certainly required, but it can't be just that. A magic system symbolizing humanity's intelligence wouldn't rely solely on natural gifts."

"Then what?"

"Human intelligence includes education. Curiosity as well. If I had to guess, Hand-lineage Sacred Techniques are heavily influenced not only by innate intelligence but also by a practitioner's intellectual curiosity. Since I've already discovered the ultimate truth in the Lord and have no interest in heretical theories, that's probably why I failed to awaken Hand techniques. And I have decisive evidence supporting this."

I had to admit—

It sounded surprisingly plausible.

And if there was decisive evidence, my ears naturally perked up.

As if sensing my interest, Shin Nain looked at me through her gas mask and declared firmly:

"It is impossible that I possess less intellectual ability than Mr. Sejun."

"Sure."

From the perspective of someone who actually possessed Hand Stage 2—

proof of superior intellectual ability according to magic itself—

they were both the same height among acorns.

The first basement floor of the student union building remained as bleak as ever.

I pulled aside my poncho and switched on the L-shaped light clipped to my chest pocket.

Click.

After the sound of machinery engaging came a brutally clear scene.

Tables discarded in one corner.

Dust piled thickly across the floor.

Footprints as obvious as tracks left in fresh snow.

Fresh instant rice containers and 100-gram convenience-store kimchi packets swarming with flies, likely replaced periodically by Go Ryeoha.

Everything came into view.

Shin Nain and I wandered among the corpses.

The footprints left by the Supreme Mages were chaotic from our recent passage, but since Go Ryeoha was a woman, her feet were naturally smaller than ours.

Once I focused on that fact, I quickly noticed a set of smaller footprints in the dusty cafeteria.

Roughly 250 to 260 millimeters.

Rather large for a woman, but combat boots were military-issued equipment.

Compared to the average adult male soldier, they were clearly on the smaller side.

The moment Shin Nain recognized Go Ryeoha's footprints through reading my thoughts, she immediately got to work.

Eye Stage 1 Past Vision could only see a few hours into the past and looked useless at first glance.

But every magic depended on the skill of the practitioner.

A short while later, after rubbing her eyes, Shin Nain pointed to various footprints.

"These are Ms. Go Ryeoha's. Not ours."

"Okay."

With the first stage of identification complete, we followed only Go Ryeoha's footprints.

Once we started looking, the differences between hers and ours became obvious.

The amount of dust that had settled on top of them differed.

In an underground space with limited airflow, one day of dust accumulation didn't create dramatic changes.

But if you looked carefully, the difference was noticeable.

Following her tracks allowed us to roughly determine the true scale of the corpses.

Go Ryeoha only paid attention to the bodies slumped against the cafeteria walls.

She never approached what had once been the kitchen.

At least from her perspective, those visible corpses were all the survivors.

That might not sound important.

But it absolutely was.

A hopeless high-school graduate loser with no qualifications survives a brutal competitive society by noticing tiny details and subtle shifts in mood.

The reason we followed Go Ryeoha's footprints was to determine the size of the survivor group as she perceived it.

"Just because Go Ryeoha is insane, and because the lingering thoughts of the dead perceive a certain point in time, doesn't mean that point matches the actual moment of annihilation."

"Of course."

After accurately mapping the range of Go Ryeoha's movements, we counted the corpses she continued to care for.

The result:

Fifty-eight.

We even checked skeletal remains one by one, using the light to identify the bodies of children.

Compared to the figure of 250 that Shin Nain had learned from the dead, the number was absurdly small.

So we went further.

Disgusting as it was, we began searching every corpse for cell phones.

Most would be dead batteries.

But if even one worked, everything changed.

In twenty-first-century society, a cellphone was practically equivalent to a person's identity.

If we could determine when the phones had powered off, estimating the annihilation date would become far easier.

This was where Shin Nain's Ear Stage 3 truly shined.

"I'll ask them when they last touched their phones. The emotional residue surrounding their deaths is extremely strong, so obtaining reliable testimony will be difficult."

"Ask all fifty-eight. If 250 people died simultaneously, their answers should cluster around a specific time."

While Shin Nain questioned the dead one by one through Ear Stage 3, I searched for phones.

Using the tip of my greatsword to lift or cut away clothing stuck to decomposing flesh.

To hell with disturbing corpses.

Discovering the truth behind what happened at Konkuk University mattered more.

Eventually, I found fourteen phones still in relatively good condition.

I tried turning them on.

Most were dead.

Even so, I set them aside and checked whether any might be enchanted devices.

Just as I was finishing, Shin Nain completed her interviews and spoke through the hiss of her gas mask.

"I found two soldiers. They only talked after some leading questions."

"Anything unusual?"

"They remembered the date they joined the group. January 26."

Twenty days after January 6, when the Threshold Breakthrough effectively abandoned Seoul and northern Gyeonggi Province.

How they survived that long fascinated me, but that question could wait.

The important point was elsewhere.

The annihilation occurred after January 26 at the very earliest.

The troubling detail was this:

When I was with the Pastor, who possessed [Soteriological Conviction], we had never found the soldiers' corpses.

The fact that Shin Nain and I managed to find corpses that we hadn't discovered while accompanying the Pastor, whose magic seemed absurdly favored by fate, meant only one thing.

It was undoubtedly a discovery or clue that was dangerous to the survival of us Supreme Mages.

Shin Nain seemed to sense that as well, since she appeared to stop digging for further information.

"It probably wasn't 250 people from the start. It's safer to assume that was the peak population."

"Conversely, it could have started with 250 and gradually dwindled over time."

That would mean Go Ryeoha slowly descended into madness as the number dropped to fifty-eight.

Or it meant everyone except those fifty-eight had vanished.

What seemed certain was that it took time.

Both Shin Nain and I suspected there had been a sufficient buildup after the soldiers joined on January 26 before tensions reached a boiling point.

Even if we accepted that all 250 people might commit mass suicide after seeing what the military had done, hatred on that scale wouldn't erupt overnight.

Before hostile public opinion against the surviving soldiers had formed, there was no way all 250 people would immediately agree with the extreme conclusion of "If we can't identify the soldiers, let's all die together."

Children effectively had no say in the matter, but even so, deciding to die together the moment the soldiers arrived made no sense.

Regardless of the plausibility or contrivance of the mass suicide itself, the key question was how long that hatred had been allowed to accumulate.

"Shin Nain. They couldn't have been feeding 250 people three meals a day, right?"

"One meal per day would be the realistic assumption. Unless they temporarily increased rations to maintain morale."

"And aside from Seoul's constant fog, being underground would've made it difficult to keep track of time."

"They would've been conserving electricity as well. If generator usage was restricted, we could probably treat one generator cycle—starting it, charging devices, then shutting it down—as equivalent to one day."

"Verify it."

As unpleasant as it was to admit, there were very few Supreme Mages whose thought process aligned with mine as well as Shin Nain's.

Maybe Hamza.

Understanding exactly what we needed to know, Shin Nain resumed her tedious but necessary interviews through Ear Stage 3.

Meanwhile, I idly played with my greatsword while observing the piles of corpses.

Eventually, after relentless questioning, we began narrowing down the exact date of annihilation.

"I think they ate between ten and fifteen meals after the soldiers joined. As for generator cycles, I'd estimate eight to eleven activations."

"Even if Go Ryeoha temporarily increased rations to calm the unrest, factoring in the generator usage means at least six days passed. Any more would have been too wasteful."

"Ms. Go Ryeoha said the 66 Society stopped supplying them two months ago. Given that today is April 22, that places the cutoff around February. Since we're estimating the annihilation occurred at least six days after the soldiers joined on January 26, early February seems likely."

"And six days is already the absolute minimum. Realistically, ten days sounds more reasonable."

Together, Shin Nain and I estimated the date of annihilation.

Somewhere between six and ten days after January 26, 2028.

I settled on February 5, 2028.

"Mr. Jemin, do you have evidence?"

"No. Just a guess."

I rolled my tongue inside my mouth.

It was to use Tongue Stage 1 to adjust the performance of Eye Stage 1.

Past.

February 5, 2028.

Me.

Then, replacing the blurry vision in my left eye, my right eye began showing me the past.

The side effects of Eye Stage 3 still hadn't faded, apparently preventing my left eye from functioning properly.

I immediately shut my left eye to avoid dizziness and focused entirely on the vision.

Everything around me rewound like a film playing in reverse.

Two months.

As that period rewound, a horrifying sensation crawled through my skull.

It felt as though eyelids had sprouted from every fold of my brain, their eyelashes scraping against soft brain tissue.

An overwhelming urge surged through me to tear open my skull and pluck out every last hair wedged between the folds.

Yet beyond that discomfort, my right eye finally witnessed what happened on February 5, 2028.

Not 250 people.

But far more than fifty-eight.

Under dim lighting, dozens upon dozens of survivors had gathered together, arguing fiercely.

The fifty-eight bodies now slumped dead against the walls were alive in the vision, displaying every imaginable expression.

Ordinarily, a simple Past Vision shouldn't include sound.

Yet as I watched their mouths move, my Ear Stage 1 resonated.

Their thoughts translated themselves into subtitles within my mind.

There was no sound.

Yet I understood every conversation.

Like a silent film whose script appeared directly inside my head.

The first voices belonged to frightened children clutching their parents' clothing, and to gaunt survivors whose hollow cheeks betrayed exhaustion.

—Learn magic? You're telling us to go into the fog? Are you insane?

The armed survivors responded angrily.

Their torn winter coats had been patched with tape.

Bloodstained crowbars and backpacks hung from their backs.

Some had splints taped to their left arms.

The word [Durability] was written on them, suggesting they served as shields rather than medical devices.

With scarves pulled over their faces and sunglasses concealing their expressions, they shouted:

—The 66 Society told us. Learn magic. Learn it even if it kills you.

—What about the children? Do you know what's in the fog? You're telling us to die!

—Do you think we're immortal? How long are we supposed to keep feeding people who can't even use magic?

—It's not like people choose whether they can learn it! You saw those kids vomiting! Most of them haven't eaten all day. If they throw up what little they have left, they'll die from exhaustion! They'll die!

The armed survivors answered coldly.

—If they can't learn it, they're monsters anyway, you bastards.

—M-Ms. Ryeoha... You think Ms. Ryeoha would allow this?

—There you go again. Go Ryeoha this, Go Ryeoha that. You know she let those soldiers stay. Is increasing rations just so nobody fights the soldiers normal? Is forbidding people from removing hats so nobody can identify them normal? Is she growing flowers in her head?

—If we fight, nobody survives! We'll try too! Please!

—Hey! Soldiers! Come out if you've got any conscience! You motherfuckers!

—They only followed orders! They're kids too! They're trapped here with us!

—We've got an Ear Mage. We know everything. You military bastards. We can tolerate people suffering alongside us. But why the hell should we keep you alive too? My family and friends were shot by soldiers. Don't hide behind Go Ryeoha. Come out and explain yourselves!

Unexpected.

And yet completely expected.

There had been 250 people.

Even if Go Ryeoha was the strongest mage, she couldn't have been the only one.

And the other mages fiercely opposed sheltering the soldiers.

The soldiers themselves couldn't speak up.

If they were expelled, the monsters would kill them.

So they cried silently beneath their hats, crushed by guilt but desperate to survive.

Then suddenly, the mages turned cold.

—Yeah. You're scared too. Better to hide behind everyone else. Hide behind Go Ryeoha and pretend you're helpless.

—W-What are you talking about...?

That was when an unfamiliar figure stepped forward.

An elderly priest dressed in a black cassock.

A rosary rolled through his fingers as he prayed quietly.

Adjusting the white clerical collar at his throat, the priest stuck out his tongue.

Unlike everyone else's words, his voice wasn't translated through thoughts.

I heard it directly.

His voice was slightly hoarse, but dignified.

Gentle.

Filled with compassion.

Because his tongue protruded slightly, his pronunciation was faintly slurred.

"Greetings. I am Kang Peter, formerly of the 66 Society, Archdiocese of Seoul."

—A... Priest?

"Indeed. In a world where survival is difficult without magic, I understand your fear. Not everyone can bear a cross. Dear lambs, I understand your suffering. I shall guide you so that you may safely knock upon Heaven's gate."

Blood suddenly burst across his tongue.

A strange energy erupted with it.

Having already destroyed the remains of the Dubai Sticky Witch and acquired her knowledge, I immediately understood what he was doing.

Reversed Alteration-Type.

Tongue Stage 2.

[Emotional Explosion].

The people who had been arguing only moments before began to sag.

Children overwhelmed by fear became drowsy.

Ordinary non-mages lowered their heads as profound resignation settled into their eyes.

The emotion he had amplified was obvious.

Despair.

After surveying the crowd drowning in despair and hopelessness, Father Kang Peter withdrew his tongue and smiled bitterly.

"Rest peacefully, poor lambs. You are being murdered. Therefore, even if you no longer take food or water, you shall still reach the embrace of the Lord. Amen."

The sign of the cross was the final thing he did.

Then Father Kang Peter left the underground cafeteria alongside the converted mages.

The remaining people simply curled up against the walls.

Consumed by despair.

Refusing to eat or drink.

The number left behind:

Fifty-eight.

Every single one of them an ordinary non-mage.

Determining there was nothing more to see, I slowly closed my eye.

Several seconds later, I heard Shin Nain's voice.

"Did you find anything, Mr. Jemin?"

When I opened my eyes again, I was back in reality.

Standing before the fifty-eight corpses that had starved to death against the wall.

"I found a mage from the 66 Society."

Father Kang Peter.

A mage capable of using Reversed Alteration-Type Tongue magic while still maintaining a human form.

But that wasn't all I'd learned.

Through the vision, I finally understood the conflicts that had torn apart the groups within Seoul.

Learning magical script in a starving city like Seoul was dangerous.

Failure meant exhaustion.

And exhaustion often meant death.

That also explained why so many ordinary people had remained non-mages.

Most Seoul mages were fanatics who had risked death from exhaustion to awaken magic.

I had never considered it before.

Yet now it seemed obvious.

At last, I understood the source of the Seoul mages' deep hostility.

They awakened after losing family and friends to starvation and military blockades.

That suffering fused with resentment toward ordinary non-mages and evolved into elitism.

I could feel my understanding of the Seoul Mage community fundamentally changing.

Shin Nain seemed to read my thoughts.

Her expression darkened.

Having apparently realized what Father Kang Peter had done, she spoke with a deeply furrowed brow.

"A shepherd must never abandon the flock."

"It may have been kinder than watching them die from magical exhaustion or being eaten by monsters."

"Mr. Jemin. That is a profoundly misguided belief. Let's return and pray together."

"Thank God I'm not one of you fanatics. No intention of doing that."

I looked at her.

"Let's go."

April 22, 2028 — 6:18 PM

Even after Shin Nain and I returned, radio communications couldn't resume immediately.

Without Go Ryeoha's testimony, we never would've known why.

"The military only transmits before the morning bombardment. It's more like a notification than a conversation... But if you want to communicate without the 66 Society listening, that's the best opportunity. Among Seoul survivors, contacting them is practically taboo because it's almost the same as giving the military your coordinates."

"Hoooh. Ms. Ryeoha really is smart!"

The Pastor's Blue Pill Operation was succeeding spectacularly.

Meanwhile, Shin Nain and I shared our findings with the other Supreme Mages.

Until now, the 66 Society had been little more than a vague shadow.

For the first time, we had identified one of its members.

Even Lee Sejun reluctantly nodded.

"Just learning that the organization isn't imaginary is a tremendous gain."

Hamza nodded as well, though [Angel's Intuition] warned her that this discovery was dangerous.

"But... it's dangerous. The 66 Society surpasses us in many aspects of magic. Sooner or later they'll realize we've found one of their trails."

Yet Shin Nain and I already knew this had to be done.

"The Lord carried His cross to Golgotha knowing He would suffer. If we call ourselves crusaders, we cannot turn away merely because evil frightens us."

"And now the military has one more reason to rescue us."

I glanced at Go Ryeoha and the Pastor chatting endlessly in front of the radio.

"Leaving Seoul isn't the end. The Supreme Mages still have plenty of work waiting outside."

The others coughed, groaned, and hummed happily.

But none disagreed.

Combat wasn't everything.

The Supreme Mages had to be supreme in all things.

And so—

April 23, 2028 — 7:46 AM

Day 8 of the expedition.

As Lee Sejun adjusted the radio dial, familiar static began filling the room.

When a weary voice announced the morning bombardment through the crackling noise—

I, Baek Jemin, stepped forward behind Go Ryeoha, Shin Nain, the Pastor, Hamza, and Lee Sejun.

Patting Lee Sejun on the shoulder, I said:

"Mr. Sejun. Send the transmission."

"Yes, sir. Let's see... Current time, 07:48. Vicinity of 37 degrees north, 127 degrees east. We are civilian operators assigned to reconnaissance inside Seoul. Aphorism, reporting. Repeat. Current time, 07:48. Communicating from the vicinity of 37 north, 127 east. This is Aphorism, civilian operator assigned to Seoul Reconnaissance Mission One..."

The radio transmission that would determine their escape from Seoul had begun.