The general atmosphere grew heavy.
The situation deteriorated to the point where the entire nation was unsettled, with prices soaring and anxiety mounting. In the midst of this, the government and the Awakener Association, unable to handle the exponential surge in Gate appearances, eventually reached out to us—those commonly referred to as “disposal contractors.”
“It’s been a while since we’ve hunted, so I’m excited, but the atmosphere is just too heavy,” Go Yu-jin remarked.
True to her words, because of the looming threat of war, everyone—from people passing by to those waiting for work—exuded a sense of grim seriousness.
“Let’s focus on the job first.”
As they entered the Gate, a crushing weight pressed down on them. The more monsters there were, the heavier the atmosphere felt. After scanning the surroundings, Seong-chan turned to Go Yu-jin and An So-mi, who had followed him in.
“I’ll take the lead, so you two please handle the battlefield cleanup.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Ooh, are you going to go ‘whoosh’ with an 8th Circle spell?”
Seong-chan let out a small smirk at An So-mi’s tension-free voice.
“This Gate’s grade is far too low to use the 8th Circle.”
A Grade 3 Gate might explode from such power. In fact, a Grade 3 Gate wouldn’t even survive a 7th Circle spell. Using the 8th Circle would be overkill.
Dismissing it as a joke, he immediately released his mana and began drawing patterns. As a tower of mana, transformed in essence and elegantly decorated in form, took shape, he snapped his fingers to manifest the magic.
“Dimension Fall Down.”
Mana exceeding the 7th Circle was consumed. Instantly, space itself distorted and began to collapse with a crushing impact. Under that immense pressure, the presence of monsters felt throughout the area vanished in a heartbeat. After confirming that some monsters were being crushed to death by the force, he canceled the spell at the appropriate moment and turned to the two women.
“How many Gates did we have to clear today?”
“…Three, but at this rate, it won’t take long.”
Seong-chan nodded at Go Yu-jin’s words. As he canceled the magic, he subtly infused his will into the scattering mana, using the residue to cast Dead Rise.
An So-mi clicked her tongue and chimed in.
“You know they don’t pay us extra for doing this, right?”
“I know. We should finish this quickly and aim for an early clock-out.”
“Hehe, I love leaving on time!”
Unlike the beaming An So-mi, the zombies began to lurch upward and walk slowly toward the Gate entrance. An So-mi headed out of the Gate to prepare the vehicles outside, while Go Yu-jin asked if there was anything she could help with. He gently pulled her closer.
“Just staying by my side is enough.”
“…Did you always know how to act like this?”
“Since we’ve decided to be lovers, shouldn’t I act a bit differently?”
Looking at Go Yu-jin’s bright smile, Seong-chan felt as if all his worries were melting away.
Later, while heading to the next Gate after finishing the cleanup, he received a call.
“What’s the occasion? I didn’t know you knew how to use a phone.”
— Are you really not going to participate in the war? —
It was Jeong Gil-sun’s proposal.
“It’s a worthless war. You must know that the government has already caught on to the collaboration between you two and is responding accordingly.”
— That’s exactly why I’m asking for help. If you… if you participate, we could easily handle China or Japan. —
“If you’ve done something you can’t handle the consequences of, you should shoulder it yourself. Stop bothering people who are just trying to live their daily lives.”
— Are you truly going to be like this? Think of our relationship! Besides, you belong to the Association! —
“If you try to force me, I’ll just quit the Association. Even the government can’t force my hand, so do you think the Association can? You’ve changed. Why have you been swallowed by such greed?”
It was a question born of sudden curiosity, but the answer contained something unexpected.
— It’s because I’m old. I tried not to be so stubborn, but I couldn’t stand seeing the younger ones living such futile lives, being used and discarded. Is that enough for you? —
“It’s good to hear you’re not lying about doing it for the country. Prove that old ginger is still spicy. Then, who knows?”
— …You absolute brat. Fine. I’ll be the first one to be ground down, so will you at least look after Do-bin and the Association from time to time? —
“I can’t take responsibility for them. I’ll drop by occasionally, though.”
— Fine. I’m hanging up. —
The call ended, leaving silence in the vehicle. Then An So-mi asked.
“Wouldn’t the government refuse to hand over Wang Sun because they think they have a chance of winning?”
“They might. The government has been accumulating immense power for a long time. They’ve been very serious about nurturing Awakeners behind the scenes.”
They had poured their heart and soul into growth, to the point where they had not only recovered but surpassed their pre-war strength. However, the problem was that the government couldn’t force the absolute majority of them to act. One of the reasons the current administration held power was their policy and campaign promise not to use forced mobilization.
“They probably have a chance. If you only look at winning, it might not be that complicated. But there will be no future. To face both China and Japan with their current strength is a joke.”
“Then shouldn’t we step in?”
“That’s exactly why I find this damn government so disgusting. They are forcing a choice without taking responsibility. In the end, it will be ‘us’ who choose war.”
Only then did An So-mi realize the weight of his words. If a national mobilization order were issued, the government would have to take responsibility for all those who enlisted. But instead, they were inducing a situation where civilians felt they had no choice but to step forward proactively. It was sickening.
In the end, when the war is over, the government will claim all the credit, using the sacrifices of those who participated voluntarily as a stepping stone. And Kim Dae-san, at the pinnacle of power, would reap various benefits, including an extension of his presidential term.
It wasn’t that Kim Dae-san was a reckless president, but the fact that no one knew when a ceasefire might happen meant he could potentially hold onto absolute power indefinitely. While Seong-chan was concerned about how a person might change, he remained silent for now, as there was nothing he could do immediately.
“What will you do if a mobilization order is issued?”
He couldn’t answer Go Yu-jin’s question immediately. He had made many oaths before the countless deaths he witnessed as he left the battlefield.
After the standoff continued for fifteen days, the trouble finally started. Awakeners from both countries clashed. Dozens died in the skirmish, and both nations began heating up the atmosphere by shifting blame onto each other. An Sang-ik reorganized the military, keeping in mind the possibility of an imminent all-out war, when a notice arrived from the government.
“It’s a declaration of war!”
“The inevitable has come.”
China had declared war, stating they could no longer overlook the situation. In response, the government immediately deployed additional troops and ordered the mobilization of all conventional equipment to support the Awakener units. It also mentioned preparations for a national mobilization order. After reviewing it all, An Sang-ik spoke.
“We will maintain the front line until just before the start of hostilities and then withdraw as planned. Prepare thoroughly!”
The military began to move swiftly. Commanders and troops were inspected as the army busied itself. As the declaration of war spread across the country, the atmosphere shifted drastically.
“The time has come,” Go Yu-jin said.
As she said, it felt as though the inevitable had finally arrived. Seong-chan recalled the situation when China had declared war in the past. Go Yu-jin looked at him and asked.
“In the beginning of the last war, China crossed the sea. Do you think something like that will happen again?”
“Something will likely happen. But the order will be different.”
By “order,” he meant whether Japan or China would strike first. Although China had declared war, Japan had also stationed a massive number of troops in Tsushima. Given that international wartime laws weren’t being strictly followed, Japan could launch a surprise attack.
Japan’s situation wasn’t exactly favorable either. They had very little habitable land left because they couldn’t clear all the Gates appearing across their country. They desperately wanted to secure territory on the mainland, and Korea was the perfect target. If China drew attention, Japan would do anything to participate. Even the United States was preoccupied, meaning global military power was in a very different state than before.
“Ugh… I’m so sick of the Japanese.“
Go Yu-jin sighed. An So-mi shared her disgust.
“I totally agree with the CEO. There were so many times I thought they were the most stubborn people on earth.”
“I’ve heard the stories. That Japanese Awakeners would keep attacking even if their limbs were torn off.”
But in that regard, they were the most stubborn. Even if both arms were ripped away, they defended this country desperately, lunging at the enemy to die together if they could still bite them. There were countless Awakeners who asked for their corpses to be used to kill the enemy, and those who said they didn’t care if not a shred of their flesh remained as long as they could be used as explosive traps. That was how they protected this country—to save someone precious. You don’t have to be famous to be a hero.
“Two days left.”
“They won’t keep to the time. They’ll invade today or tomorrow at dawn.”
“So you don’t trust them at all?”
“Of course not. In international relations, might is right.”
Seong-chan excused himself and stood up. Go Yu-jin followed him closely and asked.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to meet Old Man Han Sang-gil.”
“…So you’re joining the war.”
“I’m willing to fight a defensive battle. And since the old man likely has his own plans, I thought it best to coordinate so our areas don’t overlap.”
“I’m coming with you.”
Go Yu-jin followed, and when they arrived at Han Sang-gil’s residence, they encountered an unexpected person.
“Oh! Commander Geum Seong-chan!! You’re alive?”
He was faced with someone who was pointlessly cheerful.
“Seol Yeon-u, so you were alive too.”
She was a direct subordinate who had served under Seong-chan until just before the war ended—a guy who had been quite a nuisance.
“Oh? I thought you’d be a bachelor forever, so I was thinking of taking you for myself. Is she your girlfriend?”
“Stop talking nonsense. If you’re here, let’s go inside.”
Seong-chan felt Go Yu-jin’s lingering gaze, but it wasn’t a special relationship. She was literally a “true” subordinate.
