Chapter 53
Furry masses with bat-like wings soared through the sky. They clung to the walls of buildings, shattering windows, and sucked the life out of people with their elongated snouts.
The Air Force had finally lost its mind, bombing entire buildings to obliterate the monsters. Was it the pilots who had gone mad? Or the command center?
Or had the entire world lost its mind?
“Damn it…!”
Kang Seok-ho suddenly regretted leaving the guild with Hong Seon-ah.
It wasn’t for his own safety, but because he wanted to provide his younger sibling with better food and clothes. That decision had kept him in the southern part of Gyeonggi Province instead of Seoul.
As soon as the disaster struck, he abandoned everything and rushed from the south of Gyeonggi to the north.
By the time he crossed Seoul, he was already covered in blood.
A desperate, blood-soaked young man ran with everything he had.
To the only family he had left.
To Kang Si-ho.
And yet—
“……”
Only the ruins of a collapsed house remained.
The home where Yang Il-ho and Lee Ho-jung had once lived was nothing but a pile of debris.
—
“Hello, I’m Hong Gil-dong, the manager of X department at Y company.”
Even the most common greetings showed that people weren’t defined by their names but by their affiliations and titles. No one really cared about names.
In that sense—
Director of the National Intelligence Service’s Counterterrorism Bureau, Foreign Public Affairs Office.
Security Director of General Electric’s Arabian branch.
CEO of Kaesong Industrial Complex’s Family Mart.
Consul of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs for the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina and Republika Srpska.
Manager of the Monster Research Team at the National Intelligence Service’s Counterterrorism Bureau.
Commander of the 7452nd Division of the Military Security Command.
Chief Investigator of the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency’s Violent Crimes Unit.
And—
Director of the Monster Damage Recovery Foundation’s Minor Support Center.
Or perhaps, Director of the Han Seung-Moon Foundation’s Orphanage.
Jang had always struggled with how to introduce himself.
He had no family, no real affiliation, and even his name wasn’t truly his.
Of course, he had gone by many names—Jang Seung-yeon, Jang Young-chul, Jang Ryong-bin, Schmidt Jang, Ahad Eugene Jang. Some of those names were even given by his parents. But they were all meaningless illusions.
He had been a field agent in the National Intelligence Service for twenty years.
He had spent more time interacting with contacts from his undercover assignments than with his own colleagues. And when the time came, he buried those very same contacts with his own hands.
After doing that for so long, his name had lost all meaning. The concept of ‘self’ had been worn away.
He and his team of a dozen operatives had all lived like that.
There was a saying that when intelligence agents died, a star would be added to the black marble walls of the NIS headquarters in Naegok-dong.
But that was all bullshit.
Like the stars in the night sky, forever hidden by the glow of the city, they disappeared into the void without names, without recognition.
Nameless stars.
That was their fate.
Due to the nature of their work, they couldn’t transfer to other departments. They couldn’t reveal their real careers in job applications. When they retired, they had no prospects, living off a government pension while being monitored for life.
Unless, of course, they helped politicians.
Then they could land a cushy executive job at a public corporation, raking in a fat salary while enjoying life.
Writing comments online, wiretapping politicians—NIS agents didn’t do those things because they lacked self-respect. They did it to survive.
And Jang wanted to kill every last one of those parasites who survived that way.
He had always felt that way. He could never say it aloud, but he had always lived with that thought.
Balancing on a tightrope among people whose allegiances were unclear. Stabbing those who believed him to be an ally in the back.
While nameless agents like him died overseas, the leeches sucking up to politicians sat in comfort, tapping away at a keyboard and recording conversations—only to be rewarded with high-ranking public positions.
As a twisted patriot, he could never accept it. But he had always endured.
That’s why, when Cha Jae-kyun sent him a desperate request to return, Jang had smiled for the first time in years.
He immediately cut off all loose ends and came back home.
And then, he personally oversaw the human experiments.
Nameless dedication. Silent sacrifice.
The National Intelligence Service’s motto changed depending on the whims of politicians. But in 2016, they came up with a slogan he actually liked:
[Silent devotion, for the protection and glory of the Republic of Korea.]
Cha Jae-kyun ordered him to devote himself. And so, Jang carried out his mission in silence.
For protection. For glory.
“……”
Jang thought about all of this as he stood on the rooftop of a hospital in Uijeongbu, a cigarette between his lips.
And then, he chuckled.
His squinted eyes didn’t gleam with simmering resentment or murderous intent like some tragic secret agent from a movie.
No one would ever suspect such thoughts from his kind, fatherly smile.
He looked like any other middle-aged man on the street. He made sure of that. He had worked hard to become that person.
And so, the director of the Han Seung-Moon Foundation’s Minor Support Center stood atop the hospital, smiling as he watched a world gone mad.
The city was burning.
“……”
After Cha Jae-kyun’s death, Jang had expected to be executed. But instead, a young man named Han Seung-Moon had taken him in.
Fortunately, Han Seung-Moon had once again given them orders to devote themselves.
Jang’s men had all died in silence. They had died as terrorists.
Jang alone was left alive, his purpose now to watch over Han Seung-Moon.
If Han ever deviated from their agreement—if he ever used their sacrifices not for the nation, but for his own personal gain—if he ever dared to sell the Psychic Awakening Accelerator for money—
Jang would kill him.
That was why he was still alive.
“……Should’ve just died sooner.”
He regretted not killing himself earlier.
Watching the world collapse around him, it felt unbearable.
The streets were packed with refugees. Cries and screams echoed everywhere. Strange creatures flew through the sky.
The world had gone mad.
In the distance, a high-rise apartment toppled over sideways.
The Republic of Korea, the country he had carved his soul away for, the nation he had shed blood and tears to protect, was crumbling.
Of course, he knew his patriotism was just inertia.
It wasn’t true belief—it was an excuse to justify his crimes.
He wasn’t stupid enough to deny that.
Instead, he knew that without such excuses, he wouldn’t be able to go on.
He had done too much under that pretext.
He had come this far—there was no stopping now.
His entire life had been swept along by inertia.
Jang Won-jang smiled silently and took off his shoes.
Then, he stepped onto the ledge.
He was exhausted.
—Boom!
Jang turned his head at the explosion behind him.
A Starex van came flying down from the sky.
From inside, Han Seung-Moon crawled out on all fours.
“Urgh…! Uweeeghh!”
The others tumbled out of the half-destroyed vehicle in similar states.
Only a little boy, wrapped like a mummy with a suit draped over his head, walked out unscathed, stretching his arms forward like a sleepwalker.
Jang chuckled, dusted off his shoes, and walked toward Han Seung-Moon, who was still crawling across the rooftop.
Step. Step. Step.
He stopped in front of Han, who was still on all fours, and looked down at him.
Jang extended a hand.
“Had knife-cut noodles for lunch, did you?”
“S-Sujebi…”
“You added a lot of chili paste.”
Looks like you really chewed it well.
D-Don’t look…
People throw up sometimes, okay?
Pale as a sheet, Han Seung-Moon grabbed Jang’s hand and staggered to his feet.
At that moment, the rooftop door burst open.
“Huff…! Huff…!”
Pi Chae-Won rushed up, wiping sweat from her forehead.
She had sprinted all the way up, her expression filled with worry as she approached them.
“A-Are you alright…!?”
Han Seung-Moon casually waved his hand toward her.
“Ah, yeah, I’m fi—”
Pi Chae-Won grabbed Jang’s arm instead.
“……”
Jang’s face stiffened slightly.
Han Seung-Moon, his hand still awkwardly extended midair, scratched the back of his head instead.
Realizing what she had done, Pi Chae-Won quickly let go of Jang’s arm, flustered.
Han immediately spoke up to change the subject.
“Good to see everyone safe. Director Jang, um, where’s the control center?”
“You mean the command post? What for…?”
“A few million people in Uijeongbu are about to die.”
He was saying they needed to be saved.
A long silence followed.
Then, Jang smiled.
People hadn’t completely lost their minds just yet.
—
“Damn, no signal…”
I handed the borrowed phone back to Gam Gi-Ja.
“Anyone else getting through?”
“I called Seok-ho earlier since Si-ho was supposed to be here, but it didn’t connect…”
“Mine’s dead too.”
None of our phones were working.
Gam Gi-Ja chuckled wryly.
“Cell towers connect calls between each other, but if the utility poles linking them get destroyed, it’s game over…”
No chance of reaching David Kim or Hong Seon-Ah.
“Stay put here. I’ll go talk to the soldiers. Get your things packed in the meantime. If I take too long, don’t wait up.”
There were over fifty newborns in the hospital’s nursery alone.
The phrase millions wasn’t just an abstract number.
“Hold up.”
Yang Pan-Seok tapped his knees and stood up.
“I have a rough idea of what you’re planning.”
“Yes.”
“Wouldn’t it be more effective if two National Assembly members raised hell together?”
And so, I headed to the Gyeonggi Northern Government Complex with Assemblyman Yang Pan-Seok.
It was being used as a military command center.
No one failed to recognize me.
“Y-You can’t go past thi—”
“I need to speak with the commanding officer.”
– Translation: Do you even know who I am?
“Uh, well, that is…”
“It’s urgent.”
– Translation: Move.
A deep scowl, a few sharp taps of my hiking cane on the floor, and an intense stare were all it took.
In no time, I was sitting on a sofa in front of the commanding officer.
“An enormous gate is about to open in Uijeongbu. You need to evacuate everyone immediately.”
“…Excuse me?”
“It’s not a certainty, but all the signs point to it. And if I’m right, millions will die.”
A person holding this position had to be a hardened veteran with extensive field experience.
The commanding officer didn’t panic. He listened.
“There’s a massive mana vortex forming in the sky. That means an extraordinary amount of mana is being concentrated in a single point. And if that much mana has gathered but hasn’t caused anything yet, it means an event requiring that level of energy is about to occur.”
“……”
“This isn’t some politician’s paranoid fantasy. I consulted with world-class experts. When mana accumulates, it manifests as an event. Yet in Uijeongbu, it’s been building up like crazy for a long time. Even now.”
“……”
“Something equivalent to that mana buildup is going to happen. I suspect it’ll be a gate. I even saw smaller gates being affected by the vortex. Mana and gates are interacting in real time. Whether it turns into a mana storm, an explosion, or something else—something big is coming.”
“……”
“We need to evacuate millions. Immediately.”
I finished my explanation, grabbed a half-crushed Pocari Sweat from a broken vending machine, and chugged it.
Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I continued.
At present, the military’s main forces were stationed in two key areas:
First, the border with North Korea.
Second, the perimeter surrounding Seoul.
Uijeongbu was directly north of Seoul.
In other words—
“We need to guide the refugees toward the northern section of the Seoul perimeter, then have them move southeast through Namyangju, Hanam, and Seongnam to reach the south.”
We could circle around Seoul to the right and head south.
The military was already positioned to support that route.
“The gate is concentrated in Uijeongbu. There are a few scattered across Gangwon and Chungcheong Provinces, but nowhere near as bad as—”
“W-Wait a moment! How are we supposed to evacuate millions—”
We didn’t have time for this.
“I take full responsibility.”
“……Just one call, one call—”
“Yoo Hyun-Jong.”
Former Democratic Party secretary of the National Defense Committee, Yang Pan-Seok, smiled.
“You’ve come a long way.”
A standing committee in the National Assembly exists to keep government ministries in check. And once a politician gets hold of a weakness, they never let go—not until the day they die.
—
…Seoul defense line breached. Requesting support. I repeat, the main gate in Seoul has gone out of control. The eastern perimeter has been breached.
