Chapter 139: Rightful Dues

[Translator – Aren]

I once received a piece of advice filled with profound wisdom.

My father liked hiking in the mountains with Buddhist temples, and apparently he picked up some pretty impressive sayings along the way. One day, he called me over while he was drinking and lectured me in a grave, husky voice.

'Jemin. You don’t have to resent the world. There’s no one to resent.'

For some reason, the words that had been hammered into my ears while I knelt there sulking came back to my mind especially vividly today.

'The world has no particular reason to be cruel to you, and it has no obligation to make you happy. There’s nothing you’re just entitled to. Frustration is inevitable. Your life isn’t over just because you failed once!’

Back then, I thought it was a cold sort of comfort.

If there was nothing in this world people were simply entitled to, didn’t that deny the rights every human being should have? Still, I hadn’t dared to argue with my father. It wasn’t until 2028 that I finally did.

There are things in this world that I’m absolutely entitled to.

I, Baek Jemin, was lying in bed in the container barracks prepared for the Supreme Archmages, wrapped in a blanket with the air conditioner set to 21°C. The remote was in my right hand.

If I wasn’t dressed warmly and took off the blanket, it was cold enough to make me shiver.

I poked one hand out and tapped the screen of the smartphone lying beside my pillow.

June 2nd, 2028. 10:08 AM.

It had already been several days since I accepted the treatment I was rightfully entitled to.

I’d spent all that time just lazing around inside the barracks…

I woke up way too early.

I tucked my hand back in and focused on feeling the warmth inside the cold.

The air conditioner hummed as it chilled the entire container barracks. Wrapped in a thick blanket, I felt the pleasant pressure and warmth around me, a smile naturally spreading across my face. Then I noticed Lee Sejun beside me, shivering.

My throat was starting to feel a little dry.

I slipped a hand out from under the blanket and made a polite request.

"Lee Sejun. Water.”

"Jemin-ssi.”

-Click, click, click.

Lee Sejun stopped loading rounds into a magazine and turned to give me a chilling glare.

It was as if he was ready to beat me to death or something.

But I wasn’t the kind of person who relied on violence. So, in a way even the thoroughly disgruntled Lee Sejun could understand, I changed my hand gesture, pointed at myself with my index finger, and calmly explained.

"Tsk. You don’t know who I am?”

“......”

"Hamza."

"Yes."

Hamza, who was bundled up under a blanket in the corner, answered immediately.

Lately, his disloyal intention to escape the Republic of Korea had been becoming increasingly obvious, but fortunately, the friendship between us was keeping him from running away.

Still lying in bed, I waved my left hand around as it cooled in the air-conditioning and asked,

"Our friend Sejun seems to have forgotten, so introduce me.”

At that, Hamza rummaged around inside his clothes and pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper.

"Great Archmage of 5 Branches, licensed to kill on the Korean Peninsula, the command’s strongest asset with priority requisition rights over the Republic of Korea’s national treasures and religious symbols, a national savior who voluntarily remains at the blockade line and plans to take part in the renewed exploration of Seoul, the pride of the Korean people praised by the Korean-US Combined Command and every branch of the Korean military, and the future Pure Yang Immortal blessed by the vital energy of theBaekdu-deagan and Eightfold Yang. That’s Baek Jemin-ssi.”

-Clap, clap, clap…

Even though it was both annoying and also really cold, I pulled my hand out from under the blanket and applauded.

The Republic of Korea.

Although Seoul had been completely messed up after the fog and the monsters appeared, and the state itself had been torn to shreds because of it, even so, there was still one patriot keeping the spirit of the Korean people alive.

Baek Jemin.

At this point, shouldn’t I be proudly listed among the greatest figures who brought glory to the Korean Peninsula in the 21st century?

I smiled with satisfaction as I looked at Lee Sejun again.

"You heard him, right? One glass of water. Not too cold. Don’t give it to me straight from the fridge. Warm it up a little so it doesn’t hurt when it goes down.”

"Wow~ fuck.”

"And one disposable plastic straw. I don’t want to put my mouth on the cup and ruin the taste of the water.”

Hearing my perfectly reasonable request, Lee Sejun set the magazine he’d been loading down on top of the locker like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

-Thud!

A little too loudly.

Then he stood up like he couldn’t take it anymore. He was shirtless and putting on workout clothes, making it obvious at a glance that he was about to go for a lap, so I calmly pointed something out.

"Sejun. You should get me the water and straw before you go.”

"Hamza-ssi, come with me. Let’s go get water and take a lap around the camp.”

Hamza glanced at me, then hurried after Lee Sejun.

The two of them fled the barracks in workout clothes before I could even blink. Still, they said they'd bring back water, so I let it slide. I tucked my hand back under the blanket, enjoying the air-conditioning, and pulled the warm covers over myself again.

Was there any greater luxury in the world?

I’d even put a little humidifier on top of the locker in case running the air conditioner too long dried out the air. A place where the humidity and temperature were always just right, letting me drift into a pleasantly drowsy sleep whenever I wanted. I’d never known that simply lazing around without worrying about the eclectic bill could be such a supreme luxury.

What I particularly liked was that while everyone was out under the blazing sun shoveling dirt, training, or scrambling around for a single MPC, I could stay inside alone with the air conditioner on full blast, wrapped in a blanket and pretending to sleep.

This truly was a pleasant break.

Until the pastor and Shin Nain threw open the door to the container barracks.

"This is just ridiculous. Baek Jemin, you don’t even get your own water anymore? Sejun and Islam told me!”

"Jemin-ssi, we need to have a serious talk. Please listen.”

-Hummmmm...

I’d deliberately been focusing on the sound of the air conditioner to avoid the backlash of my Ears-branch magic, but the pastor and Shin Nain were protesting so fiercely that I decided to respond. Of course, I wasn’t about to give up lounging around on the bed, though.

I completely wrapped myself up in the blanket and answered with my cheek pressed against the pillow.

"I’m listening, so hurry up and say it.”

"Pastor, I’ll go first. Jemin-ssi, you gave up far too much in your negotiations with the American generals.”

Shin Nain.

He spent a little too long in the bathroom, loved listening to hymns, and was deeply immersed in Christianity, but at his heart he was a by-the-book elite whose brain worked better than mine. Sure enough, he started picking apart things I hadn’t even considered.

"If you truly believed you were that exceptional, Jemin-ssi, then you should’ve stood your ground more firmly, not just for yourself, but for everyone else as well.”

"Yeah, I’m exceptional.”

"So what did the US military actually give you?”

As if frustrated, Shin Nain pounded his chest and started rattling off his explanation.

Moreover, with my strengthened Ears-branch, Stage 1 [Mind Reading], I could hear Shin Nain’s inner thoughts perfectly clearly. To sum up that fanatic’s complaints, they went like this:

The United States would never have made that offer out of goodwill. To begin with, it was a country that didn't particularly recognize the International Criminal Court. Using it as their stated justification in the first place made no sense.

And while they’d dressed it up with provocative words like “Immunity,” it wouldn’t actually help me at all. Shin Nain even argued that if my morals completely collapsed and I went around committing all sorts of atrocities, what good would that immunity be when the US military didn’t have the power to stop me anyway?

I listened leisurely to Shin Nain’s argument, then raised my hand to refute.

"Shin Nain. You’re greatly misunderstanding something here.”

"Misunderstanding?”

"I don’t like violence or barbarism. Making demands just because you're stronger than someone is the mindset of a raider. It’s inhumane.”

Threatening citizens who couldn’t learn magic with force so I could enjoy illegal privileges? I would never commit something as outrageously heinous as that.

I had always lived honestly, and as long as my own interests were protected, I was perfectly willing to step forward for innocent people. How could a man with such strong ethics and respect for the law threaten someone just because they were weaker?

I just accepted what they offered me. I had never demanded it first.

"Jemin-ssi, then what exactly do you call hunting Seoul wizards, taking their remains, and destroying them?”

"Come on, man. What’s so wrong with transferring something to someone who needs it more?”

Shin Nain had to be the only person alive who would describe the transfer of knowledge as hunting.

There was simply a slight degree of violence in the process of receiving that knowledge. Even the ancient Greek philosophers refined their virtues through training known aspankration.

I considered my exchanges of knowledge with the Seoul wizards to be something like that as well.

But I understood what Shin Nain was getting at, so I decided to answer a little more seriously.

"And obviously America wouldn’t just bring up that international whatever for no reason.”

"...?"

"The US wasn’t exactly fond of international organizations these past few years, right? So if they suddenly bring up some international whatever, you can see what they’re after. Gangnam Thousand-Miles Eyes recently moved south, and the drones used there were made by the Chinese. What do you think they thought when they saw that? ‘Wow. They got to them first?’ From America’s perspective, they already assumed there was a good chance the other side made contact with the 66 Society first. In other words, the US fell behind.”

I might be a total dumbass, but I’m just a little quick when it comes to calculating profits and losses.

Capture a member of the 66 Society, then hand them over to an international organization instead of interrogating them in your own country? That would be madness. It would mean giving up magic, the next generation’s source of future growth. They must have figured that out pretty quickly.

Saying they would hand 66 Society members over to the International Criminal Court was one part of the pressure aimed at every group and organization that might have made contact with the 66 Society before the US did.

And there had even been a power struggle over the position of commander of the UN forces. If they took over a military force that functioned as an international peacekeeping force, they could naturally overcome that weakness.

"You’re only smart when it comes to the strangest things…”

I watched Shin Nain’s face grow paler in his despair.

The moment I saw Shin Nain suffering, I grinned with satisfaction and pride.

"Just get your Ears-branch magic to Stage 4 already. I generously gave it to you, so why aren’t you destroying the remains?”

"How am I supposed to do that when I know what the backlash is? If anything, it makes me suspicious that you were willing to give it to me so easily.”

Shin Nain had been full of contempt and despair, but when the backlash for Ears-branch Stage 4 came up, there was nothing but genuine pain on his face.

I absolutely hated prying into other people’s pasts, so I just let it go. My own pain was more than enough, so I absolutely didn’t feel like learning about anyone else’s. More importantly, unlike Eyes- or Tongue-branch magic, whose backlash hurt like absolute hell and drove you insane from the pain, Ears-branch magic tormented you psychologically.

It was like living your life perfectly normally, then flicking on the bedroom light and seeing a cockroach disappear into the gap beside your wardrobe. Except you felt that shock every minute and second of the day.

Yeah, I absolutely wasn’t going to do that.

People needed division of labor, and it was more efficient to dump the shittiest jobs on someone else. Even among the great powers of magic, some branches were bound to be relatively inferior. Ears-branch magic, with its constantly active backlash, was the prime example.

And Shin Nain had been chosen as our magic dumping ground.

That was when the pastor, who had been watching quietly, stepped in.

"Baek Jemin…”

The pastor wore a calm, composed expression, showing some rare seriousness.

Just as I shook my head, wondering what kind of sermon he was about to give me this time, I heard the voice inside his heart.

'Jemin’s nature has not completely gone off the rails. He’s not exactly a good person, but he’s not hopeless either. He’s just vulnerable to arrogance and self-indulgence. Even good intentions can be swayed by high status and power. Jemin’s spirit hasn’t been tempered yet. The general's must know that too, which is why they dangled bait in front of him. As a pastor, I have a duty.'

-Haah...

The pastor was the one sighing.

"Look at yourself right now.Of the servants who received talents from their master, the only one who was rebuked was the one who buried his talent in the ground. You don’t seriously think you’ve become special just because you can run the air conditioner, wrap yourself in a blanket, and laze around while everyone else works, do you?”

“......”

"As far as I can tell, you’re not special right now. You’re just an unemployed bum, you little punk. Start by turning off the air conditioner.”

I slowly closed my eyes at those words.

The pastor's words were stirring something inside me.

Yeah... The pastor was right.

After a long period of deliberation, I pressed a button on the remote.

-Beep.

"I raised the temperature by 2 degrees.”

"Aah, seriously. You have no idea how popular Go Ryeoha’s gotten while you’ve been doing this, do you? Every time she uses Hand-branch magic for Material Substitution or upgrades equipment, the US military and the Korean military practically worship the ground she walks on…”

The instant I heard that I threw off the blanket without hesitation.

-Whoosh!

I couldn’t waste a single second. I stripped off my pajamas and changed into my combat uniform. Socks and combat boots took me exactly 10 seconds. I even wrapped my new badass item, the prayer beads, with one of the Buddha's True-Body Sarira set among the beads around my left arm. If I went around dropping something this precious, divine punishment would strike me down.

It took only 30 seconds to grab my poncho and gas mask and reach the weapons locker.

Inside of it was the custom AR-15 that had been freshly issued just for me, proudly showing off its sleek barrel. I grabbed the dangling sling with my right hand, slung the rifle over my shoulder, and immediately turned back to Shin Nain and the pastor.

"What do I need to do?”

"U-Uhm. Our Mister Anderson is here. You just need to go meet him.”

"I truly hate that I find myself reassured by how consistently materialistic your behavior is, Jemin-ssi.”

I didn’t care about the fanatic zealot duo’s lukewarm reactions.

Those damn non-wizards. I disappear from sight for just a bit, and they already stop applauding me and start praising someone else.

Did they not fear the reputation of Baek Jemin, Great Archmage and holder of immunity on the Korean Peninsula?

Clearly, some discipline is in order.

And for that, I needed to look a little intimidating again for the first time in a while.

"Let’s gear up.”

Lastly, I picked up the authorized phone beside my pillow and checked the time.

June 2nd, 2028, 10:21 AM.

I’m not all talk for nothing.

I slipped the authorized phone into my inner chest pocket and walked ahead of the fanatic zealot duo.

It had already been a week since truly turbulent, world-shaking times came crashing down on South Korea under the Korean-US Combined Command.

And the second expedition into Seoul still didn’t have a set date.

The moment I stepped out of the container barracks, a wave of sweltering heat slammed into me.

The area where the Supreme Archamges’ dedicated container barracks had been set up was a relatively quiet part of the US camp’s outskirts, so there wasn’t much shade to duck into either.

Of course, that didn’t matter to me.

It was all thanks to the effect of Hand-branch, Stage 2 [Enchant], the word written in blood onto my gas mask and poncho.

[Cooling].

The greatness of magic protected me from June’s scorching heat radiating from the blazing sun in the sky.

"Let’s go."

"Of all things, he had to get obsessed with gas masks and ponchos.”

Shin Nain sighed, and the pastor gave an awkward smile as he patted him on the shoulder.

Even so, pressing forward was what made us the Supreme Archmages.

Even walking around in a gas mask and poncho with a rifle slung over my shoulder, my combat boots hitting the ground, I didn’t sweat a single drop.

Normally, I would’ve been irritated and asked when the hell they planned to finally send us to Seoul, but the gun wizards’ shabby explanation and the systematic upheaval sweeping through South Korea had convinced me.

What really moved me, though, were the new electronic billboards installed by the road and the propaganda videos playing on them.

As soon as we left the Supreme Archmage’s exclusive barracks area and entered the proper military encampment, the billboard we encountered was showing stirring words and images.

[We need a Hero like You.]

Images switching between soldiers wearing dog tags and armbands saluting an empty coffin in perfect formation and a military chaplain walking among kneeling soldiers while swinging an incense burner.

[You have the Right, the Courage, and the Potential to resist Injustice.]

-Dong, dong, dong.

As church bells rang out, the back of a man could be seen in the distance, gazing at an empty coffin being buried in a cemetery.

Wearing a poncho covered in black inscriptions, he didn’t salute. Instead, like an ancient warrior, he raised his AR-15 in a chivalrous, martial gesture of respect and reverence

The moment the man slowly turned around, the message changed just as majestically.

[You have the Strength and the Opportunity to fight for a Better Life.]

What more is there to say?

That knightly man who had appeared in the 21st century was none other than me, Baek Jemin. Since I was going to be on camera, all sorts of people had been fussing over me to groom and polish me up, but I was satisfied because I still came out looking like my usual self. 

The manly Baek Jemin was already more than enough exactly as he was, so no amount of dressing him up could possibly be a problem.

[With the Power you are given, Reclaim and Enjoy what was Rightfully yours.]

As the Baek Jemin in the video put on his gas mask with utterly perfect precision, the footage moved into its highlight reel.

[Peace. Stability. Prosperity. Survival.]

-Swiish—.

The sight of me with a rosary wrapped around the barrel of my AR-15 and prayer beads wound around my left arm was nothing short of magnificently handsome.

With the hood of my poncho pulled over my new gas mask, a gun wrapped in rosary bears in my hands, and the hem of my poncho billowing, I strode through a cemetery filled with gravestones. That production had it all.

[The Military will Reform and once again become the People’s Military, Standing Together with You. Military-Service Operator Recruitment Now Open. For detailed Information and Applications, Visit your nearest Recruitment Center.]

-Clap, clap, clap…

I applauded again.

Right up to the ending shot of my back as I walked away with my poncho fluttering behind me, the Military-Service Operator recruitment propaganda video was packed with aesthetic flair. I couldn't really make heads or tails of it, but since I was in it, it had to be excellent.

Of course, anodyne gung-ho enough to see that and immediately sign up probably wouldn’t have stayed a non-wizard to begin with.

At the end of the video, detailed information appeared in tiny letters, and bait for non-wizards started rolling across the screen like an insurance commercial after a home-shopping program.

[Military-Service Operator applicants may exchange won for MPC once per week. Depending on contribution level, exchange fees may be reduced and exchange limits increased. Priority access to supply distributions for up to 4 family members and priority hiring when applying for designated worksites that issue MPC are guaranteed…]

"What a damn end-of-the-world age this is. They sure found a roundabout way to say they’re buying people’s lives.”

The pastor clicked his tongue, but I could only shrug. Considering the monsters we’d faced and the greatness of magic, it seemed like a perfectly reasonable price to me.

Apparently, if you became a Military-Service Operator, they’d keep letting you roll the fog gacha until you awakened magic. These days, even the 66 Society only wanted experienced wizards, yet the military was investing that many resources just to produce brand-new ones.

For the applicants, it could hardly be anything but a blessing.

True to the big and bold style the American’s were known for, it was a groundbreaking offer, actually.

It was around then that Shin Nain started complaining.

"Jemin-ssi. Wasn’t stopping and watching that entire video once or twice enough? It’s been a week, and you still do it every time it comes on.”

"I’d like to keep doing it for the rest of my life, actually.”

Shin Nain shut his mouth.

And so the pastor, Shin Nain, and I marched along, enjoying our first little outing around the camp in a while. The whole point of this outing was my fame. Whenever soldiers recognized me and saluted or greeted me with a bright smile, I saluted or greeted them right back.

The Korean troops reacted especially enthusiastically.

Since it involved sensitive matters related to magic, not everything had been made public. But once they learned that I was the only one who had delayed the building’s collapse for 28 minutes during my battle against Gangnam Thousand-Miles Eyes, even sacrificing my right eye doing so, their respect for me reached its peak.

Two soldiers were walking along the freshly mowed roadside, yawning loudly, when they spotted me in my poncho. They instantly stiffened and snapped into perfect salutes.

"Loyalty! Thank you for your hard work!”

"Loyalty!”

I felt a warm breeze stir somewhere inside my chest and gave them a kind smile.

They were young guys thrown into such brutal circumstances that I almost found myself worrying about how hard all this must be on them mentally.

"Loyalty. Keep up the good work.”

"Yessir!”

I could see the fanatic zealot duo at the edge of my vision looking disgusted as if they’d eaten shit, but I let it slide.

Because I now had the confidence not to be swayed by other people’s opinions.

Who am I?

A man whose immunity on the Korean Peninsula was recognized by the United States.

With that pride swelling up my chest, I confidently walked forward for another 10 minutes or so.

At last, we arrived in front of a makeshift chapel newly set up at the Pyeongtaek camp. In front of it, Korean military chaplain assistants with their sleeves rolled up were busy running weed trimmers.

From the outside, it looked exactly like a religious facility built in a quiet corner of a US military camp.

But the pastor, Shin Nain, and I knew this was absolutely no ordinary chapel.

"Let’s go in.”

"Phew. Fine.”

"What? Pastor, if you’ve got something to say, say it.”

"No. If you want to know, use your Ears-branch magic or whatever.”

The moment he said it like that, I absolutely didn’t want to hear it, so I held back.

We passed the military chaplain assistants, too busy with the weed trimming to pay us any attention, and entered the chapel. For a hastily built facility, the concrete inside had been finished pretty cleanly. It was a little rough around the edges, but less so than I’d expected.

As I turned my head to look the place over, a door in one corner of the hallway suddenly flew open.

And out came Poodle-noona and the shaman lady from Pyeongtaek.

"You’re here? Why’s this eightfold Yang brat walking around in a gas mask in this weather?"

"Unni, don’t be too hard on him. Kids can do weird things sometimes.”

"You can’t keep indulging him. This eightfold Yang brat has far too much guts. Leave him alone and he’ll do whatever he wants. Hey, eightfold Yang, you know that you should take off that gas mask when talking to people, right?”

"I know what manners are. Don’t worry.”

Poodle-noona had given me the talisman that kept me from running into the Human-Skin Tapeworm, and though I hadn’t thought much about it at the time, now that I did, my phone had started working again after I wrapped a talisman around it too. She’d also brought the Three-Tiger Sword from the Ulsan Museum and performed the ritual for me. Maybe Poodle-noona was a lot more legit than I had realized.

As the very embodiment of respecting one’s elders and learning from one’s juniors, I, Baek Jemin, naturally became polite whenever I owed someone something, so I humbly nodded.

The fanatic zealot duo’s face twisted like those of vicious demons, though.

"Tsk… Lord, this is for the sake of saving more people. I have absolutely not been led astray by a cult. Guide me always upon the righteous path.”

"May pagan corruption never taint me, who practices Holy Alteration Battle Arts. Lord, protect Your servant. Amen.”

Compared to these two, I was a damn living saint.

Guided by Poodle-nooda and the Pyeongtaek shaman lady, we headed farther into the room, where several familiar faces immediately turned to greet us.

"So after all these twists and turns, we meet again.”

Monk Wonhaeng, the wrinkled-mouthed monk who seemed connected to Monk Cheonghwi.

"May our Lord Jesus Christ have mercy upon us all. It is good to see you.”

The greasy-haired priest with a gas-mask pouch attached to his military belt, who had prayed for Major General Jeon Minho.

"Inshallah."

A turbaned Muslim greeted us quietly, and no matter how I looked at him, wearing that serious expression, he looked nothing like Hamza.

And finally…

"Mister Baek. And Best of the Best. It has been far too long.”

Our sponsor, our kind foreign friend Anderson Makenford, pushed back his chair, stood up, and opened his arms.

Instead of returning the hug, I turned toward Poodle-noona.

"What are all these people doing, gathered here?”

"What do you think?”

Poodle-noona answered my question with a look like I was the strange one here.

"We need to organize this Alteration-type magic or whatever it is more systematically. We need to figure out the Buddha's True-Body Sarira too. Just because those 66-whatever bastards think they know the answer, you think we’re not going to work through the problem ourselves?”