Chapter 34: Non-Combat Power-Up Event

[Translator – Aren]

There’s a saying that would start making the rounds whenever times got harsh.

‘Good people don’t approach you, and the people who do approach you aren’t good.’

It fit the current Gyeonggi Province perfectly. After all, whenever a visitor showed up around here, it was usually some monster like an Amalgam coming down from Seoul.

But apparently today’s guest was receiving the enthusiastic support and welcome of the people of Gyeonggi Province.

March 13th, 2028, 11:43 AM.

It had been roughly 4 months since the appearance of the Fog and the outbreak of monsters. Today, a man known as the American tycoon Mr. Anderson had arrived in Suwon as a civilian visitor. The news stations were already making a huge fuss over his visit.

The anchor’s polished voice and crystal-clear diction delivered a glowing hymn of praise to Mr. Anderson.

[Mr. Anderson Makenford is a successful CEO currently involved in oil refining and energy-related businesses in the state of Texas. He is widely regarded as an ethical businessman who guarantees employment opportunities for local residents and has long emphasized the historical importance of the Korea-US alliance. Recently, Mr. Anderson expressed concern regarding the unrest occurring near Seoul and…]

Of course, plenty of people might wonder what the big deal was.

Wasn’t he just another rich American enjoying life across the ocean? But there was a reason the people of Gyeonggi Province welcomed and supported him so passionately. Under the pretext of serving as a buffer zone, they had been trapped inside the second blockade line, with travel and logistics heavily restricted.

Yawning in the cafeteria, I watched the news through the cracked screen of my phone.

[... Mr. Anderson has announced plans to cooperate with the Combined US-Korea Command located in Pyeongtaek to stabilize local livelihoods within Gyeonggi Province and improve logistical supply chains. It is also reported that he is lobbying members of the US Senate in an effort to resume trade through Pyeongtaek Port.]

Anderson Makenford. Age 56.

A man with graying blond hair and an impeccably tailored suit that gave him a conservative appearance.

A devout Christian. He had once belonged to the Mormon Church and, even now, reportedly abstained completely from alcohol, tobacco, and drugs. Occasionally he found himself dragged into controversy because of his troublesome eldest and second sons, but the scandals never lasted long.

Though he had amassed tremendous wealth through the oil and energy industries in Texas, he was known for maintaining relatively good relationships with his employees. American-style flexible hiring and firing practices were still very much part of the business, but he also funded aftercare programs that helped former employees find new work opportunities in the region.

He invested heavily in maintaining a positive public image as well. Apparently he routinely gave generous donations to churches and local communities. By all appearances, he seemed like the ideal ethical businessman.

For South Korea, a country whose overseas trade had nearly ground to a halt due to the monster outbreak, was there anything more moving than the thought of an influential American tycoon lobbying politicians to reopen trade routes?

Even if he had ulterior motives, many would still consider him a savior.

From Korea’s perspective, he was practically a lifeline.

So it was only natural that the people of Gyeonggi Province were cheering wildly now that Anderson Makenford had arrived in Suwon under heavy security.

But knowing a little more of the truth made it difficult to welcome him wholeheartedly.

I turned off my phone, let out a sigh, and headed toward the temporary chapel. Everyone of the Supreme Archmages was already gathered there.

Pastor Park Yohan sat there flipping through his Bible behind slightly lowered glasses.

Monk Cheonghwi sat quietly with his eyes closed, palms pressed together in mediation.

Hamza had wedged himself into the least noticeable corner possible and was awkwardly staring at his fingers for no apparent reason.

Shin Nain had decided he’d save the headset for missions and now lived with earbuds permanently in his ears instead.

Lee Sejun, having recently become obsessed with weight training, was casually lifting a dumbbell with one arm.

And finally me, Baek Jemin, the spiritual pillar and vanguard of our Supreme Archmages. All of us were present.

"You’re here, Baek Jemin.”

"Yes."

Yet even I dared not sit in the seat of honor.

There were seven seats prepared in the temporary chapel. One of them, the seat of honor, had been left empty, while the remaining six were occupied by us.

Knowing exactly why, I couldn’t help but frown and grumble.

"Why’s a guy with that much money interested in magic of all things?”

"When a person has fulfilled every other desire, only one aspiration remains. In Buddhism, one seeks to become a Buddha by cutting away worldly attachments. Elsewhere, people seek salvation from God or dream of union with the divine.”

While the people of Gyeonggi Province praised Anderson Makenford as the economic savior who would reopen trade, we Supreme Archmages were waiting for him for a very different reason.

Anderson Makenford.

He was a member of the mystical advisory committee organized in the United States and, at the same time, one of the strongest advocates opposing any nuclear strike on Korea. Officially, he was visiting Suwon to boost troop morale. In reality, that wasn’t why he was here.

About 30 minutes passed.

Just as Pastor Park Yohan started snoring softly, leaning back in his chair with his Bible open, footsteps echoed from the hallway.

Shin Nain pulled out one of his earbuds, furrowed his brow, and shrugged.

"He’s incredibly excited.”

Sure enough, he was right.

Given Anderson Makenford’s age and public image, I’d expected a deep, dignified voice and a calm demeanor. Instead, the voice coming from the hallway sounded positively giddy.

I could hear him chattering away in English, unable to contain his excitement. Unfortunately, I was a man who could barely manage a single language properly, so I couldn’t exactly share in Anderson’s enthusiasm.

A moment later, security personnel entered the chapel and began inspecting us one by one. A few even approached directly and gestured for us to stand so they could search us.

If Anderson hadn’t waved them off, we would’ve ended up getting thoroughly patted down.

The body guards immediately complied. They maintained a silent, professional demeanor. As the chapel doors closed and Anderson’s guards took up position outside, Anderson naturally sat down in the seat of honor and pulled out a handkerchief.

He dabbed the sweat running down his cheeks before looking around at us.

For a moment I expected him to start rattling off in English again.

"I can speak Korean.”

He spoke in Korean, though his pronunciation was a bit awkward. But he spoke far more naturally than Hamza.

Despite the fatigue visible on his face, Anderson’s eyes sparkled as he looked around the room.

"I was told you are the Best of the Best. The wizards who have achieved the most outstanding results so far.”

"Besuteu?”

Lee Sejun echoed, sounding quite flustered. Anderson simply blinked.

"Isn’t that what Supreme Archmages means?”

The members of Aphorism immediately turned to look at me.

Pastor Park Yohan stared at me with a face that had somehow removed every trace of joy, sorrow, anger, and happiness. Then he answered Anderson in a calm voice.

"Our group probably does have some of the best results among the civilian Operators. Especially that one over there, Baek Jemin. I hear his passion for magic has driven him to learn three branches of magic already.”

"Ooh… Baek, that is truly remarkable. From what I’ve heard, most of the people here had nothing to do with the occult before all this happened. Korean shamanes are called mudang, correct? To achieve all of this without relying on shamans! My deepest respect for your accomplishments.”

Well… There had been one…

I found myself remembering Bosal Geulmun’s final moments and could only nod awkwardly. At this point, I understood perfectly why genuinely powerful shamans either hid themselves or fled instead of responding to military conscription.

The others seemed to feel much the same. One after another, they cleared their throats and subtly looked away.

Mr. Anderston, who was a refined and cultured man, seemed to have sensed that the atmosphere had become awkward in that instant as well. Straightening his collar, he smoothly changed the subject.

"Regardless, the fact that you’ve survived such dangerous real-world encounters without any significant prior knowledge suggests you’ve undergone a form of spiritual awakening. In that case, could it be possible for me to examine the magical symbols?”

"That’ll be difficult without the fog. Besides, outside the fog they don’t appear as their true forms. They distort into bizarre symbols or meaningless scribbles. They’re not easy to interpret.”

"But you can still draw them, can’t you?”

Rather than being discouraged, Anderson seemed even more excited.

The Supreme Archmages exchanged glances. We communicated entirely through eye contact.

What should we do? Should we draw one?

If he pukes, that’s not our fault, right?

At that moment, Anderson reached into his jacket and pulled out something resembling a small necklace. At first glance it looked like an ordinary pendant. Looking closer, I noticed a star-shaped engraving on it.

"Don’t worry. I have a pentagram that has undergone a purification ritual. If my ritual was performed correctly, it should provide spiritual protection.”

The results, of course, were catastrophic.

"Bleeeegh!”

I was the one who knew the most, so I drew the distorted square-within-a-triangle symbol, the so-called Squangle. The instant Anderson saw it, he doubled over and vomited. Only after receiving one round of icy stares from the bodyguards who immediately stormed inside did the situation finally calm down.

Once the guards withdrew again, Anderson let out a sigh, his face deathly pale.

His expression was filled with unmistakable disappointment.

"I thought I was finally touching the vision ofHermes Trismegistus…"

"On the bright side, you’re rich. There are plenty of people who’d rather have money than magic.”

If rich people could use magic too, what exactly was a dirt-poor wizard like me supposed to do?

For the sake of maintaining balance in the universe, I immediately moved to suppress this dangerous development. Unfortunately, Anderson’s enthusiasm showed no signs of fading.

"What good is wealth if it cannot touch divine truth? Even Our Lord said that it is difficult for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. That only means I must strive harder.

"Matthew 19:24. Spoken exactly as one would expect from you, Anderson-ssi.”

Being a devout Christian apparently earned Anderson full marks in Pastor Park Yohan’s book.

I could clearly see the corners of his mouth twitching upward.

Unfortunately, Anderson’s efforts weren’t completely meaningless.

When it came to the Hand-branch magic symbol, he surprisingly managed to endure it.

Of course, he looked seconds away from throwing up. But the fact that he endured it at all was impressive.

After taking a moment to suppress his nausea, Anderson, despite looking utterly exhausted, lit up with the excitement of a young boy.

"5x5. The Magic Square of Mars. It seems this symbol originates from a magic square, which is why the backlash is weaker than the others!”

"Magic square? Ugh…”

"Yes!"

Lee Sejun had accidentally glanced at it and nearly vomited as well. Eyes squeezed shut, he struggled to steady his breathing as he asked the question.

Anderson, meanwhile, seemed overjoyed that his occult knowledge was finally proving useful. He launched into an enthusiastic explanation.

"The magic squares were traditionally believed to ward off evil curses. Since ancient times, many mystical traditions viewed numbers as the fundamental archetypes of all things and as representations of divine order. In astrology, the seven celestial bodies were associated with specific numbers. According to theSefirot of Jewish mysticism, what is commonly known as Kabbalah, Mars corresponds to the fifth Sefira, Gevurah.”

Do you know what my immediate thought was after hearing Anderson’s explanation?

Shin Nain probably figured it out instantly.

I turned my head slightly and met Shin Nain’s eyes. The way his brow furrowed told me everything.

We’re fucked.

"But the grid itself is clearly related to the Magic Square of Mars. What’s strange is that there are no numbers inside it. So it doesn’t appear to be a traditional magic square. I heard that you and the monk speculated that it might have numerological significance?”

"Yes, we discussed the idea that the number 5 is the number of humanity…”

"And I mentioned the Buddhist concept of the 5 Aggregates.”

"Exactly!”

Anderson clapped his hands together. Then he broke into a delighted smile.

The fact that my lips were drying out from secondhand embarrassment was definitely not my imagination.

"The number 5 symbolizes change, freedom, curiosity, and versatility. In numerology, it is commonly associated with humanity itself. It’s also why the pentagram, a symbolic representation of the spirit governing the four classical elements, is used as a symbol of purification and protection. Korea also hassaju palja, doesn’t it? I’ve heard many people believe in it. Since saju places great importance on numbers, it could be considered a form of numerology in the broadest sense.”

"So, erm, Anderson-ssi, do you believe there’s meaning here?”

"Absolutely. This grid can be interpreted in many ways. The most obvious interpretation is that it symbolizes two hands overlapping, reduced to an extreme abstraction. But despite taking the form of the Magic Square of Mars, it contains no numbers. That in itself may be a clue.”

"A clue?”

"Yes. A magic square isn’t complete until the numbers are filled in. That character I saw… or rather, symbol would be the proper word. As I see it, that symbol lacked numbers. A grid without numbers.”

He carefully stroked the pentagram pendant hanging around his neck.

Apparently he’d become rather attached to it despite its complete failure.

The man looked genuinely delighted simply by the fact that he’d managed to brush against the supernatural.

"Perhaps it’s hinting that the magic itself is incomplete, for one reason or another.”

"Then would the other symbols also possess numerological significance?”

If Pastor Park Yohan hadn't stepped in, I probably would’ve had to interrogate the man myself.

The scary thing was that I was starting to find this interesting.

Baek Jemin… A man who usually started looking for somewhere to nap the moment he sat at a desk, and yet when the topic genuinely interested me, I could apparently stay wide awake. What a truly remarkable man I am.

I tapped my chin and perked up my ears as the discussion continued.

Anderson frowned as he mentally reconstructed the symbols. Yet the smile never left his face.

Then…

-Snap

He suddenly snapped his fingers as he practically shouted.

"The Eyes symbol is a distorted square inside a triangle…seven corners. The Ears symbol is an oval crossed by four horizontal lines… When you combine that with concepts like fate and the Music of the Spheres, it makes sense!”

Raising one finger triumphantly, Anderson looked around at everyone gathered in the room.

The intensity of his gaze made me want to look away. Right then, Hamza quietly whispered,

"Everyone, stay focused. South Korea’s trade situation depends on this man.”

-Gasp...

I immediately straightened my posture.

Naturally, I wasn't the only one. I had already started getting interested. Lee Sejun, determined to remain loyal to his country, pinched his own thigh and sat up properly as well. Pastero Yohan and Monk Cheonghwi had been interested from the beginning. 

The only exception was that bastard Shin Nain. That lunatic had openly put his earbuds back in and was practically headbanging to whatever he was listening to.

At this point I genuinely wondered whether he’d care if South Korea collapsed entirely.

As if hearing my thoughts, Shin Nain cracked one eye open and clicked his tongue.

"Remember that when the Lord purified Sodom and Gomorrah, he commanded them not to look back. Becoming attached to those destined to turn into pillars of salt is merely proof of weak faith!”

Screw it.

Meanwhile, Anderson was smiling as he called out to the one person who’d been ignoring everyone and doing his own thing the entire time, Shin Nain.

"The Ears symbol is sheet music. The oval is a symbolic representation of an ear. And musical scales have traditionally been expressed through seven notes. Seven corners, seven notes, and the number 7 that finally appears when 25, produced from a 5x5 square, is split into 2 and 5… When you consider that mystical systems like this usually pursue union with God or ascension, 7 is not a number one can dismiss as meaningless. Someone arranged the number 7 with extraordinary precision.”

The one who stepped up here was Lee Sejun.

Driven by his desperate desire to help restart South Korea's trade, he even counted on his fingers to sell the reaction.

"Do, Re, Mi, Fa, Sol, La, Ti, Do, huh?”

"You there, your name was…?”

"It’s Lee Sejun, Mr. Anderson.”

Once Pastor Park Yohan introduced him, Anderson blinked and turned to Lee Sejun.

"Supreme Archmage Lee. Is there a flaw in my theory?”

"There are eight.”

Watching Lee Sejun confidently raise an objection, I nearly bought into it myself for a moment.

If not for the way Shin Nain was looking at him like he was some kind of insect.

*t*t*

In any case, Anderson was an important benefactor and a sponsor with a wealth of mystical knowledge.

Granted, he was also a somewhat exhausting man who seemed overjoyed that his hobby had finally become useful.

"You cannot separate astrology and celestial bodies from traditional esoteric systems. The rest remains speculation, but the fact that Hand-branch magic corresponds to Mars is obvious to anyone. The ability to repel monsters with blood from the right hand corresponds with the concept of the righteous hand. Right. As in both correct and right-handed. In that sense, it reflects one of humanity’s oldest prejudices. You could interpret it as the lifeblood flowing from the proper hand striking down improper monsters.”

And after this long discussion, Anderson suddenly looked as though his world had come crashing down. A knock had sounded at the door.

"Oh…is it time already…?”

"Mr. Anderson, we’re grateful for your interest and generosity, but you’re a busy man. How could we possibly keep you any longer?”

Pastor Park Yohan was clearly trying to rescue us. Unfortunately, Anderson shook his head like a child refusing to leave.

"This is thrilling. It’s meaningful. It’s work that benefits all of humanity. Of course, I should make time for it. If it were up to me, I’d spend the entire day talking with all of you.”

"With a heart as upright as yours, Anderson-ssi, I’m sure there will be many more opportunities to meet.”

Monk Cheonghwi began invoking the Buddhist principle that all meetings must eventually end in an effort at persuasion.

Yet Anderson still looked reluctant to go.

"Very well. Then at least regarding rituals…”

"Mr. Anderson."

"It’s information that could help you. Please, hear me out.”

For fuck’s sake. At this rate it felt like the man wanted to move here.

What if he asked us to escort him into the fog next?

While I was worrying about that, Anderson finally opened his mouth and offered information that actually seemed useful.

"According to Headquarters’ theory, it symbolizes human intellect and may even be connected to alchemy. Considering the many symbols that clearly correspond to Mars, I believe it’s possible to prepare a ritual capable of advancing Hand-branch magic to the next stage. Before March 21st arrives, preparations should begin once the moon rises.”

"A ritual?”

I shot to my feet at those words, and Anderson nodded firmly.

"Prepare a ritual site bathed in the color of red so that it resonates with Mars. Burn pungent, intense incense. Since Mars symbolizes conflict and struggle, prepare a cast-iron object. Around 6:35 AM on March 21st, or as the moon is setting, you should perform the ritual. Grip the iron object with your right hand until your blood touches it and iron and blood become linked. Through the red light of Mars, connect the hand to Mars through blood. Until then, engage in repetitive work using your hands while maintaining mental elevation and spiritual tranquility."

With that, Anderson removed the pendant hanging around his neck and placed it on the table.

His expression was filled with reluctance.

"The Pentagram Talisman should be of some help. It improves spiritual protection and concentration.”

"Alright, alright, Anderson-ssi. You’re a busy man, so let’s call it here for today.”

"Best of the Best. It was a pleasure spending time with all of you. I will absolutely visit again.”

Anderson practically had to be dragged away.

It was obvious he was walking as slowly as possible, as though hoping we’d stop him and ask him to stay. Unfortunately, it was already 3:51 PM.

Only after Anderson finally left did we let out collective sighs of relief.

Listening to his footsteps fade into the distance, I exhaled a long sigh of my own. Part of it was happiness at finally obtaining a clue about the ritual. The rest was a complicated mixture of emotions regarding our new sponsor.

"Can’t that guy just not come back?”

"You only know the reason the military gave us, the political reason they aren’t dropping nukes, right?”

Pastor Park Yohan snapped his Bible shut and removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes.

"All sorts of mystics around the world. Rich people. Tycoons. Billionaires obsessed with occult nonsense and supernatural mysteries. All of them are interested in this stuff, so they’re the ones stopping it. At the very least, one of the reasons America is still helping Korea is because of rich eccentrics like him.”

"Then...?"

"This is how South Korea ended up surviving by selling magic tricks.”

At that moment, I finally realized that 21st-century South Korea was preparing for a new leap forward.

"Pastor, what do you think about Korea becoming a global magical superpower?”

"Hey, dumbass. We’d all be better off if neither the monsters nor this magic existed in the first place.”

"I’m okay with it.”

The founder of the 8-Note Scale, Lee Sejun, finally spoke up, having recovered from his earlier embarrassment.

Monk Cheonghwi merely folded his hands together and smiled gently. Shin Nain was busy humming hymns he listened to through his earphones.

Even Hamza, who was usually too timid and too busy reading the room to voice an opinion, sided with us.

"Korean permanent residency…I wasn’t going to get it before. Now I'm special. I like it.”

Pastor Park looked around at all of us. For a moment, he opened and closed his mouth like someone reaching for a cigarette that wasn’t there. Then he let out a deep, exhausted sigh.

"Should we just get nuked?"

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All italized words are spoken in english. Also some characters call Anderson -ssi or Mister (written out)