Chapter 147: The Shepherd Duo

[Translator – Aren]

There are four types of magic.

Alteration-type, which is the most versatile but immediately demands a price from the wizard, Dogma-type, which requires no price but demands a powerful, ancient worldview and faith on the level of religion, Incantation-type, which makes use of mystical knowledge and expensive materials, and finally Ritual-type, the most dangerous of all, said to bring about unconditional destruction.

Of these, the grimoire the military had identified and secured was the Cuneiform Grimoire. Because it had tentatively been judged not only extremely dangerous, but impossible to destroy…

"Come to think of it, nobody ever told me what happened to the Cuneiform Grimoire.”

"Clergy dispatched from overseas sealed it away separately. They needed to keep Ears-branch wizards from finding it. The risk of it being stolen was so high they didn't even tell us where it was. Apparently, even which religions these clergy belonged to and how many of them came were kept top secret.”

"Why would they hide something like that?”

Pastor Park Yohan didn't answer right away. Instead, he very carefully storked the reddish-brown cover of the Double-Semicircle Script Grimoire he’d called our ticket to Hwaseo Station’s underground. Even though it was probably a little sticky from the grape juice he’d poured over it.

There was still a lingering unease remaining in the pastor’s eyes behind the lenses of his gas mask.

"Baek Jemin. Do you know why people sell their souls to demons even when they know the price of the contract is their destruction? Because they believe salvation will simply fall into their laps like charity. Even believers who live sanctified lives in unity with the church still strive to enter Heaven, yet people like that believe that somehow, without putting in any effort or devotion, they alone will be exempt from the contract’s price. People are so foolish that if they can’t see the price right in front of them, they convince themselves there isn’t one.”

-Cough, cough.

The woman who had been waterboarded coughed and vomited up dirty water. Looking around with bloodshot eyes, she glared at the pastor clutching the grimoire and shouted desperately.

"So I’m just supposed to die then? Die without being able to do anything? I…I never used living people as sacrifices. I only used the bodies of people who starved to death or killed themselves!”

At least she had some clear standards.

But the man in the I Love Soul shirt immediately shouted back without the slightest bit of hesitation.

"Silence, spawn of the Devil! You've already sacrificed your humanity. That pathetic guilt and shame you feel will fade a little more every time you do it, until eventually you’ll start hurting the living too!”

"How is punishing me for something I haven’t even done any different from a witch hunt? You’re only coming after me because people with guns are dangerous and I’m an easy target!”

"How dare you!”

The backlash from Ears-branch magic hit me as hard as ever.

I’d used it extravagantly to figure out how many people were inside the apartment and where they were so I could subdue everyone without killing them. Now the backlash had come to bite me. These two’s inner thoughts were exposed as clearly as day.

'Are you crazy? How the hell is a woman left completely on her own supposed to survive in a world where the police and military have both lost their minds? Everyone’s getting shot to death anyway, so what’s the problem if I kill a few people too?’

'There are rumors that some civilian Operators have grimoires too, but I can’t recklessly waste the lives of my brothers and sisters on something this dangerous. First I need to report this grimoire to the military and earn the right to apply for the Dogma-type assessment.’

Ah, fuck…

Both the owner of the Double-Semicircle Script Grimoire and the waterboarding interrogator had reasons I could understand.

The situation inside Gyeonggi Province, the second blockade line, had gone completely to shit. A woman left alone would desperately need at least enough force to protect herself from vicious groups. Once social order collapsed, the people with the least power were always the first to be targeted.

On the other hand, the waterboarding interrogator in the I Love Soul shirt wanted to be certified as a Dogma-type wizard, proof that he was a true believer. It would serve as proof that his faith was strong while also acting as a ladder up the social hierarchy. As a civilian Operator, he could be issued a firearm and gain access to well-paying jobs.

Trying to make her hand over the Double-Semicircle Script Grimoire in a situation like this would only make the conflict worse.

Fortunately, the thoroughly prepared Great Archmage Baek Jemin was here to break that deadlock. I’d learned that sticking a gun in someone’s face was far easier and more humane, but my unbreakable faith that humans could still settle things through conversation moved me nonetheless.

I slung my rifle back over my shoulder and pulled out the notebook I’d prepared from inside my clothes.

Then I took out the pen I’d brought along and scribbled away.

[1,000 MPC. For the meritorious capture of an unauthorized Ritual-type grimoire holder through courage and perseverance. Guaranteed and issued by Supreme Archmage Baek Jemin.]

Normally, I would’ve had to painstakingly stamp all 1,000 MPC one by one and hand them over like tickets, but I didn’t have that kind of time, so I decided to use the most reliable method instead. I pulled up my gas mask just enough to expose my mouth and bit down on my left thumb. 

-Crunch.

The moment my teeth tore into the raw flesh, my head became exceedingly clear.

Fuck.

That hurt so damn much…

I pressed my bleeding left thumb firmly onto the bottom of the MPC booklet. It was a fingerprint stamped in my own blood, so anyone from the Korean-US Combined Command would recognize it.

I put my gas mask back on, then handed the man in the I Love Soul shirt the promissory note worth 1,000 MPC.

"What’s this?”

"It’s worth 1,000 MPC, so take it and hand over the grimoire. Turn that woman over to the military as well. We’ll let them handle the aftermath and keep this nice and clean. Get whatever medical treatment you need yourselves. You know 1,000 MPC is enough to evacuate to the rear, right?”

"What is this…? You expect me to just take some scribbled note for this…?”

The man in the I Love Soul shirt turned the note this way and that, examining the thing he’d just taken almost without thinking.

It seems like he couldn’t quite believe his own luck. Well, I could understand why he’d be suspicious. Ordinary people could never imagine that Supreme Archmage Baek Jemin was practically a state-level authority with a license to kill, legal immunity, and even the authority to issue MPC.

But I knew a certain magic capable of making even Hamza, a man who wanted to desert, really brave. Courage was simply another name for trust. It was time for the staff of courage and trust to do its magic.

Without hesitation, I slipped the rifle sling off my shoulder and took the gun in both hands.

-Clack. 

"From my perspective, dealing with five corpses would actually be easier.”

"Praise be to Jesus. Brother, I am deeply impressed by your consideration.”

The man in the I Love Soul shirt was quick on the uptake, cautious in his dealings, and possessed the honest heart befitting of a religious man.

Pastor Park Yohan looked like he had a great many things he wanted to say to me, but after some thinking, he picked up the Double-Semicircle Script Grimoire and settled for merely jerking his chin toward the exit.

"Fine. As long as nobody died.”

"M-My grimoire! Give it back!”

The woman thrashed around and reached toward us as though screaming, but I coldly turned my back on her.

Unfortunately, it seemed the water torture had left some lingering effects. She was slow in her judgment, she was too desperate to make a deal, and as befitting a nonbeliever, her heart seemed to be in complete disorder.

Asking me to give the grimoire back. Seriously…

I was going to let it go, but I just couldn’t help myself, so without even turning around, I coolly tossed a few words over my shoulder.

"Miss. What makes this your grimoire?"

I bought it with my own money.

* * *

By the time we finished searching the high-rise apartment and returned to the makeshift church, things had quieted down considerably. 

It looked like the pot of hardtack porridge had been scraped completely empty, because I could clearly hear a ladle grating against the bottom. Even so, there seemed to be surprisingly few people inside the church beyond the windows.

The vast majority of the refugees had only come to get a bowl of hardtack porridge and never even stood before the cross.

But the pastor didn’t care. He went over to the middle-aged men and women moving boxes of hardtack and ramen and started chatting with them about this and that. I stayed a good distance away since talking to church people was pretty unbearable for me.

With nothing else to do, I pulled out my authorized phone and killed time by tapping at the screen with my thumb.

Just as I started wondering why we were wasting time when we already had the grimoire and could just go to the military straight away, I got curious about what they were talking about and used Ears-branch, Stage 1 [Mind Reading] on the pastor.

That was how I found out what the pastor, who happened to be cleaning his glasses, was privately instructing the church members to do.

'There’s no denying that in chaotic times, people who are physically weaker, such as women and children, are more easily exposed to violence. If a demon whispers to them that it will lend them strength, the fragile human spirit may not be able to refuse. In the end, whether it’s heretics or demons, they always prey on those exposed to loneliness and danger. I have no choice but to ask the congregation to pay a little more attention to them… Lord, in the midst of this tribulation, may Your house embrace even one more innocent soul. Amen.’

Come on. At this point, that just felt unfair.

I couldn’t understand why someone who tore into other religions like some rabid dog was so damn sweet to his own congregation. Was that just a trait the fanatic zealot duo shared or something? Ears-branch magic. Somehow, this stupid thing always failed me whenever I actually needed it most.

It pissed me off that I was the only one who felt like human trash, so I checked the time instead.

June 21st, 2028, 5:26 PM. 

The pastor finished talking with the church members and came over to where I was standing, passing time. By then, he was holding a phone in one hand and a backpack in the other. Apparently, he’d put the grimoire inside the backpack, and judging by the way he had just ended the call on his phone, he’d finished talking to someone as well.

"I contacted Hwaseo Station. Captain Kim Howoon will talk to the commander on-site over there.”

"What do I need to know?”

I put away my authorized phone too and politely watched the pastor put on the backpack, showing him proper respect as my elder.

The pastor let out a little ‘Hup’ as he put it on his shoulders, then shrugged. Afterward, he pulled his gas mask back on after taking it off while talking to everyone, blew a few breaths through it to check that it was working, and finally spoke.

"Do you know why Shin Nain and I have kept going out to provide community service while you, Lee Sejun, Go Ryeoha-ssi, and Islam have been holed up at the US camp?”

"Because you’re fanatic zealots?”

"That’s the first reason, but the second is so we don’t lose touch with actual people, you little punk. And what’s with ‘fanatic zealots’? Call us Christians.”

By now, the pastor had heard me call them fanatic zealots for more than a day or two, so he merely twitched an eyebrow instead of seriously scolding me.

And so, despite there being only two of us, the pastor and I strode proudly through the area around Hwaseo Station as though we were invincible. The incident with Changsik’s father several minutes earlier had already proven the absolute power and status possessed by our Supreme Archmages.

The refugees would be grimacing as they carried boxes of distributed supplies, but the moment they ran into us and realized who we were, they would get scared and hurriedly get out of our way.

By the time we reached the fortified road near the intersection where the trucks were parked, even a mother and a little kid approaching from a distance froze in place. Just seeing two Supreme Archmages walking around in gas masks and ponchos was apparently enough for our mere presence to overwhelm them.

The child and his mother trembled on the other side of the crosswalk and started turning around, but as an all-rounder wizard of peerless character, I couldn’t simply stand by and watch.

I couldn’t let people who’d already had a hard day because of me waste even more effort taking a pointless detour.

-Swish—.

I raised my hand.

The child and his mother, who had been about to turn around and take the long way through an alley where we wouldn’t even see them, immediately froze.

Was this true magic… The [Authority] branch?

But I had absolutely no intention of abusing that authority and tarnishing my own honor.

As though I were gently stirring cream, I waved my hand through the air and offered those two some kind words.

"Go ahead and cross first. Ladies first.”

"Baek Jemin. You’re seriously ridiculous.”

The pastor still didn’t understand.

Reputation farming was all about those small, heartwarming stories shining once someone dug them up later. Little acts like these would eventually come together and turn into thunderous applause for the Great Archmage Baek Jemin.

In the end, the mother and the child passed by the pastor and me in the middle of the crosswalk.

Unlike his mother, who kept her mouth firmly shut and stared straight ahead, the kid kept lifting his body on his tiptoes and glancing back over his shoulder at us. With those round little eyes and apparently still having his face washed even with the world in this state, he looked almost adorable.

He even had the discerning eye to recognize this Great Archmage and try to get a better look at me. That kid was going places someday.

The pastor shot me a look of contempt even through the lenses of his gas mask, but we'd more or less grown attached to each other, so he couldn’t bring himself to criticize me too harshly anymore. Instead, he started telling me about the underground area of Hwaseo Station we were heading toward.

"I’ll keep this short before we go, so listen.”

Classic words from someone who never kept anything short in his life.

I’ll summarize it Baek Jemin-style.

According to the pastor:

Hwaseo Station apparently had aboveground tracks used by freight trains and two underground platforms served by Line 3.

Originally, the military had planned to maintain its supply lines using the subway routes in place of the aboveground tracks damaged by shelling, but the recent surge in anomalous incidents had made them shift toward restoring the surface tracks instead.

"How many aboveground tracks are there, anyway?

"Well, better than having none. But there’s a problem. This is only a rumor going around among the civilians, and the military denies it as completely baseless, but listen carefully.”

The military had tentatively decided to abandon the subway routes. Apparently what happened during the first expedition into Seoul had shaken them badly, considering their most elite special forces units had become isolated and suffered heavy losses in the hostile underground environment.

On top of that, if the underground routes were breached even once, there was too much risk of the areas inside the blockade line collapsing one after another like dominoes. So instead of maintaining supply lines through the subway, they had decided to temporarily seal the routes off.

That was where the problem started.

"The military says it’s some other issue, like a gas vapor leak or whatever, but people who use the subway routes say there’s fog filling the tunnels.”

If there was fog, that meant monsters had settled in there.

The order of cause and effect might have been reversed, but the connection itself was obvious. The biggest contradiction, however, was that people were still trying to use the subway routes ingested enough for fog to form. Routes the military must have sealed off, whether by blowing them up or pimping them full of gas.

"How are they supposed to use them if they’re sealed? Dying from gas on the way would probably count as a good death.”

“Baek Jemin. Think about it. Do you really think civilian Operators are the only ones who want to go on expeditions into Seoul? There are people who want to escape Seoul, people who want to get into Seoul, and people who don’t want the military noticing them… Using the closed-off subway routes gives them at least the tiniest chance of slipping past the blockade lines on the surface.”

"How the hell do you know something like that???”

"My dear one-day youth-group leader. Even the tightest-lipped person loosens up before God. No one can bear the full weight of a secret.”

Only then did I realize the terrifying value of religious people.

Community service.

I’d wondered why anyone bothered looking after these damn pieces of trash when there wasn’t even any money in it, but apparently it wasn’t just a religious calling. It was also an intelligence-gathering operation that raked up information and rumors by the ton.

"Things like boxes of ramen and rolls of toilet paper are valuable even here, but you can still earn them by working. If you manage to make contact and trade with survivors inside Seoul, you can get your hands on all kinds of knowledge and things they’ve made. And you don’t have to bother with annoying procedures like reporting it to the military and getting authorization. That’s how people think once they’ve completely forgotten those measures exist for their own safety.”

While listening to what the pastor had to say, we somehow found ourselves right in front of  the encampment near Hwaseo Station.

The fanatical Christians were still out front, wailing and singing.

"”Drive out Satan hiding among us! Burn the devils before the fires of Hell burn us!””

It was a truly terrifying sight.

At first, I’d wondered why the military was just letting them continue, but the horrifying realizations I’d gained from today’s one-day tour of Hwaseo Station made me ask a question I really didn't want answered. I leaned toward the pastor and whispered.

"Don’t tell me there’s a reason they leave those people alone too.”

"They need to recruit Dogma-type wizards. They’re more cooperative with the military and more organized than all the eccentric weirdos you get with Alteration-type wizards.”

Fuck.

This country was seriously finished.

As we headed toward the encampment with the hems of our ponchos fluttering, the entries recognized us, snapped to attention, and gave us crisp 90° salutes. I doubted even people with stars on their shoulders got saluted with this much respect that often.

“Loyalty!” 

"Mmhm. Keep up the good work.”

"Hey. Stop messing with the kids and just follow me.”

Haah~ When else am I ever going to get saluted like this in my life?

The inside of the encampment was just as grim as the pastor was stingy. Every single soldier was in full combat gear. Not one had taken off their helmet, and not one was without a firearm. The only exceptions were Captain Kim Howoon and his driver, Son Gain, who stood quite some distance away by the entrance to the subway station, chatting with the on-site commander.

The pastor and I naturally headed over there.

That was how I found out the on-site commander was a Lieutenant Colonel and that he still wasn’t wearing a name tag.

A stitched scar on his left cheek, eyebrows and eyes drooping into the shape of the character 八, and a permanently gloomy look in his eyes.

The droopy-browed Lieutenant Colonel pointlessly fiddled with his helmet in front of Captain Kim Howoon, then let out a miserable sigh like a man who had already lived through everything life had to offer and found nothing worthwhile anymore.

"Captain Kim. Reality Survival…Haah. I know the Quarantine Command is incredibly important right now, but aren’t you running the people from the Blockade Command into the ground?”

"We’re deploying two of our strongest assets. Didn’t Supreme Command also issue a directive and judgment that this is necessary for underground reconnaissance and securing the area?”

"Captain Kim. No, Captain Kim-nim. Please, Quarantine Command knows what kind of monsters we’re dealing with too, don't they? We can pump gas down there all day and night, and they just keep coming out. We’d like to blow the place up, but hardly anyone is willing to go in, so we’re already having to coax people into it. And now you want an unscheduled underground expedition for just two people? Two?”

"Then we'll only take the military Operators and civilian Operators. We’ll handle any additional support ourselves. Okay? Blockade Command troops just defend the platform. Stand guard. All you need to do is keep our retreat route open. That should be enough, right?”

"Haah…Aah~.”

That was when the droopy-browed Lieutenant Colonel noticed us and made a face like he’d just seen something disgusting.

In the end, the droopy-browed Lieutenant Colonel waved the white flag and glared at Captain Kim Howoon.

"Captain Kim-nim. I don’t know what Quarantine Command is thinking, but even if you reopen the subway lines, the only people who’ll go in are fucking lunatics. Nobody knows what they’re doing down there either. I can already see the future where it’s Blockade Command troops who get ground into dust because of this, and when that happens, we really might turn our guns around. So you’d better keep a tight leash on this.”

"Yes, yes. I’ll make sure Quarantine Command and Supreme Command both know how hard the Blockade Command personnel are working, and I’ll at least try to make it easier for you to get supplies.”

"Haaah. I’m holding you to that. Okay? Get me a pack of American cigarettes.”

The droopy-browed Lieutenant Colonel turned away after saying that and started giving various orders to the officers and NCOs under him.

That was when the pastor and I approached Captain Kim Howoon.

He was sweating buckets, wiping his face with his sleeve.

"Officially, sending only two of the Supreme Archmages would be too dangerous, so today, the two of you can go ahead alone as an advance reconnaissance team under the pretext of a preliminary expedition. As you heard, Hwaseo Station has already been breached once, and we keep getting reports of fog, so it’s considered a high-risk area. Be careful.”

"You’ve got it rough.”

"Haaah. I’ve still got it better than a certain someone. He died without even getting the chance to run…”

Captain Kim Howoon sighed with a conflicted expression on his face.

I knew who he meant without him having to say it. Lieutenant Shin Hangi, who had basically been Captain Kim Howoon’s junior. He died as a major.

Even though his junior had gotten promoted ahead of him, Captain Kim Howoon didn’t look the slightest bit jealous.

If I had to break down his emotions…maybe one spoonful of sorrow over Major Shin Hangi’s death and about one entire oil drum of relief that it hadn’t been him.

I could see the pastor grimace too, but he didn’t even bother criticizing him.

Our Pastor Park Yohan had mellowed out a lot as well.

The pastor and I silently looked down the stairs leading underground. The lights were on, the ventilation fans were humming, and the occasional thuds of soldiers’ combat boots echoed up from below.

It looked like the military controlled everything down to the underground concourse.

Well, then. No reason to hesitate.

-Step.

I started to go down the stairs.

The pastor and I naturally slipped the slings off our firearms and held them in both hands, ready for anything. This was a world where soldiers walking around was no guarantee they weren’t monsters.

Especially once every wizard already knew how dangerous underground areas were.

Still, judging by the fact that Ears-bnranch, Stage 2 [Hearing Monster Voices], remained quiet, the danger didn’t seem particularly high yet. If we stayed too tense, it might actually make it harder to react properly when something did happen.

So, hoping to get some useful information, I causally tossed the pastor a question.

"So why exactly is that grimoire a ticket?” 

-Huuuuff…

The pastor let out a deep breath through the filter of his gas mask before answering.

"There’s a group that moves around the fog-filled subway tracks. Apparently, they only accept demon-spawn carrying grimoires. We’ll have to check it out, won’t we?”

-Step.

As I descended the stairs, feeling the slightly musty underground air against the rubber of my gas mask, I reached a conclusion.

They definitely were genuine grimoires.

Seeing that those guys had conveniently gathered together just waiting for this Great Archmage to collect them made it more than clear that they were 100% genuine grimoires.