WETRIED TRANSLATIONS

The Wizard in the Poncho

[Translator – Aren]

Chapter 110 - Hell Communism

-Huuuff—.

I let out a breath through the gas mask and subtly rolled my eyes around.

A huge signboard lying in the road had several names written across it.

Sushi Heaven, Woong’s Snag Shop, Coin Karaoke B1...

Seeing countless sign boards with names like those crumpled together, tangled into one mass, and abandoned in the road sent a shiver down my spine. Rational pessimism began whispering predictions of a dark future.

South Korea was effectively gone.

The days when I’d check my bank balance as I pulled open the door to a snack shop, hear the little bell jingle, glance at the menu, click my tongue, and grumble about why a single roll of kimbap cost so damn much were over.

They would never come back.

I knew that painfully well, and so did the Gangnam group’s Seoul wizards breathing hard behind the signboard.

Not only ethics and morality, but the order and violence that had restrained revenge were gone.

And yet, even as magic rose to dominance, firearms actually remained unshakable in their position. Humans ultimately went with whatever was easiest. Rather than spending your entire life arduously training in swordsmanship just so you could swing a blade around, learning how to click a trigger was still the foundation of killing.

-Clack!

The sound of metal locking together shattered the strange silence.

That was when the pastor shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Baek Jemin! Run!”

-Ratatatata!!!

The pastor opened fire.

Without even looking back, I leaped like a camel cricket curling up its legs and springing into the air.

The hem of my poncho was the first thing to meet the wind.

The doping effect was still lingering, so with only a short run-up, I jumped as high as the second floor.

But if I stopped there, I wouldn’t be much of a wizard, now would I?

I could feel the doping gradually wearing off. Did repeated doses shorten the duration?

One thing was certain. I had to keep landing effective hits before the effects wore off.

My vision was already growing hazy.

Maybe I’d developed a slight astigmatism that I hadn’t had before, because my focus kept slipping, and I had the illusion that objects were slotting into two. The side effects of [Cognitive Dissonance] at 100% were severe. Even outside the fog, with doping reducing the penalty to an extreme degree, it was still this bad…without doping, I might’ve gone blind.

That thought was chilling.

At the same time, it was exhilarating.

Magic was a reward system where you put in 10 and got 10 back. If the backlash was brutal, then the reward would be just as dazzling.

I rolled my tongue around inside my mouth.

Eyes-branch, Stage 3, [Cognitive Dissonance], 100%.

-Tap!

I fell onto the outer wall of a roadside building.

But the price was substantial.

Along with the sensation of my tongue being finely sliced apart, horrifying pain surged through me hard enough to make my thighs tremble and the strength drain out of my legs. And when you were in agony and your legs suddenly gave out, it was obvious what was going to happen.

-Shhhhhh...

At least I learned something useful from it.

Anything ‘expelled’ from my body wasn’t affected by [Cognitive Dissonance].

The moment I saw the damp streak running down my pants, tears streamed from the corners of my eyes as well. My tongue felt like it was being shredded into tiny strips, my legs gave out from the pain, and then I pissed myself on top of everything else. Life was truly miserable.

"Fhuck."

I spat out a single curse.

Pain beyond my limits rapidly scrubbed my mind clean of all the aggression and excitement, replacing them with fear. I couldn’t stay here long. Pastor Park Yohan might be pouring out suppressive fire, but the Seoul wizards weren’t the kind of enemies he could pin down for long.

I decided not to rely on my trembling legs.

Individual combat drills, crawling around on my arms, were my specialty. I immediately dropped flat and clung to the building’s outer wall like an elegant cockroach, skittering along as the chatterbox bastard shouted.

"You bastard! Have you got no shame?!”

First, I needed to regroup.

While the pastor kept firing, Shin Nain would spread out, take position, and keep the enemy in check.

I-I needed to overcome the pain and pull myself together first.

I reached a nearby window in no time, tapped the glass a couple of times with my elbow, then smashed down hard with the rifle butt. Heart-branch, Stage 2 [Physical Enhancement], which I was temporarily sampling through the doping, shone here.

-Craaash!

The effect of shifting gravity with [Cognitive Dissonance] at 100% was amazing.

After sweeping the rifle butt across one side of the broken window frame to clear away the glass, I threw myself through and neatly slipped inside. I squeezed my eyes shut and curled up, bracing for impact.

"Hup!"

-Craash!

I landed on the door of a wardrobe fixed against the wall. The handle dug into my side and hurt like hell, but since I was already screaming anyway, it wasn’t particularly noticeable.

When I released [Cognitive Dissonance] in that position, my body heavily dropped to the floor.

"Ugh. Khg."

This wasn’t good.

I tried to force myself upright somehow, but my arms and legs were trembling uncontrollably. My legs shaking was one thing, but my arms trembling too was unexpected. I didn’t know why at first, but I figured it out while fumbling with the AR-15 in my hands.

Just in case, I tried moving a finger to work the selector, but it wouldn’t go where I wanted it to. Alarm bells went off in my head. I’d lost my depth perception from the rapid deterioration of my eyesight.

I’d used it too many times.

Thanks to the doping, it would probably stop at temporary vision loss, but I couldn’t use [Cognitive Dissonance] anymore. Still, just because I’d lost my depth perception and couldn’t use [Cognitive Dissonance] didn’t mean a Great Archmage like me had suddenly become useless.

I rolled my already blood-drenched tongue around inside my mouth, savoring the disgusting metallic taste.

Target, kill, hostile wizard, 5 minutes, path.

Bearing the weight of the heavy poncho and all my equipment, I forced myself upright.

The pastor and Shin Nain would have established a field of fire to suppress the enemy, so I focused my mind in order to coordinate with them. Telepathy between two Ears-branch, Stage 1 users, this was another hidden gem of an ability.

With abilities this incredible, there was no way a non-wizard could ever stand against a wizard…

'Jemin-ssi, they’re closing in!!!’

-Clang!

My poncho flared.

I grabbed the rifle body, seized the barrel, and blocked the long, sharp claw.

-Huuff, huuff—.

The sounds of breathing through gas masks overlapped.

Velcro Corporal.

Velcro Corporal hung upside down from the window, aiming the sharp tips of his long claws at me. All while scraping wildly at my rifle barrel. Every time his nails scraped against whatever the barrel was made of, plastic or some special alloy or something, I backed away.

-Tap!

Left foot, right foot, backward, keeping myself square as I shoved the claws away with the rifle.

But the claws slid back in like salmon swimming upstream against a waterfall, like a snake climbing a tree, latching onto the surface again with the sound of it being scraped away.

-Screeeeech—.

At that moment, I shoved the gun body forward with my right palm without a moment’s hesitation.

My left hand, which had been gripping the barrel, slid down toward the muzzle and clamped tight. I didn’t give a damn about weight balance. With those claws clinging to the gun, it was an insane thing to do, but sometimes madness held the correct answer.

-Spin.

The rifle rotated once over Velcro Corporal’s claws.

Like a judoka setting up a throw, I twisted the rifle over the five nails Velcro Corporal had so nicely gathered together.

He and I glared at each other, measuring the opportunities we had given one another, and as wizards, willingly stepped into each other’s traps.

-Swish.

Velcro Corporal’s nails stretched endlessly long.

At the same time, my right hand seized the rifle sling that had been flapping around and yanked it tight.

Look at those filthy nails. All gathered together so nicely.

Perfect for a knee strike.

-Cruuunch!

A chunk of the poncho at my side was torn away. The section of Ancient Hebrew enchantment lettering already painted over in red was sliced clean off with it.

-Crack!

The nails bent and snapped. If mere keratin could withstand the pressure created between an AR-15 barrel and a knee enhanced by Heart-branch, Stage 2, that would be a crime against nature.

The instant I saw the broken nails, I grabbed the rifle sling tightly in my right hand without hesitation.

I pulled the rifle back toward myself and tucked it beneath my armpit.

No time to aim.

Before I could assess the situation, my finger was already on the trigger.

That was when I noticed something attached to Velcro Corporal’s chest.

A walkie talkie. From the military radio clipped to his belt came a loud alert tone, followed by that chatterbox voice.

[Lissen, lissen.]

I pulled the trigger.

[Just land one hit!]

-Bang!

I fired without aiming.

Velcro Corporal, who had been hanging upside down outside the window, took the hit and fell. He dropped like a blackened fly zapped by an electric flyswatter, which reassured me a little.

Right. If you’re human, getting hit by one bullet should leave you bawling and incapacitated. That’s normal.

I’d deliberately planned to spray wide just to suppress him, but honestly, landing even one shot should’ve been enough…

'Jemin-ssi, you were hit with a suggestion!'

...Oh, crap.

I hurriedly shoved the muzzle out through the window.

-Clack.

At the sound of metal locking together, I looked down and saw Velcro Corporal writhing on the ground, clutching his side. I, Baek Jemin, didn’t waste opportunities because of half-assed pity or hesitation.

I genuinely pulled the trigger the instant I saw him.

Selector to full-auto.

[Lissen, lissen.]

I’ll just tear him apart.

[Spreading it around works far better!]

-Ratatatatatata!!!!

Bullets rained down.

One car sagged as a tire lost air, deflating. Bullets struck a hood and spat sparks, while chips of asphalt flew into the air. Blood sprayed too.

Plenty of rounds poured into Velcro Corporal as he writhed on the ground, forming a pool of blood around him.

The problem was that the guy was a monster.

-Click, click, click…

No bullets came out no matter how hard I pulled the trigger.

Only after the filthy muzzle, smeared with powder residue and gas, gave nothing but empty groans did I realize the magazine was empty.

Warm shell casings lay scattered around the window and around Velcro Corporal, giving off faint wisps of steam.

He was wounded.

But he had protected his vitals. Even while writhing, he twisted his body and used the tumor-like Human Slime pustules growing from his right arm to block the shots. The bullets should have punched straight through, but he had used those disgusting monsters to cushion the impact.

Realizing I was out of ammunition, Velcro Corporal raised his right arm.

I dropped the empty magazine too.

-Click.

My hands trembled faintly as I changed magazines. I considered dropping down and crushing him with my body, but close combat was that guy’s territory. More importantly, if he attacked me with a Human Slime, it would suck away my precious experience points!

Velcro Corporal didn’t run either.

Apparently his injuries were still too severe for him to escape.

Then just die.

Just as I was about to finish changing magazines, Velcro Corporal raised his right hand.

For a moment, I wondered what the hell he was up to.

"!"

The nails I had broken were growing back in an instant.

Unlike the claw blades that had grown from his forearm like shark fins, the nails on his actual fingers stretched outward with an unnaturally straight shape, lengthening like the Ruyi Jingu Bang. Velcro Corporal opened and closed his fingers like Edward Scissorhands, producing a bizarre sound.

Not scissor blades, but fingernails striking against fingernails.

The moment Velcro Corporal's gas mask tilted up toward me, the nails clacked together like castanets.

-Clack, clack, clack.

But there was an even more grotesque change than the elongated nails. The tips of the fingers that produced those nails had changed strangely. Their outlines swelled and contracted as though they had separate breathing holes of their own.

Even though my current enhanced Eyes-branch, Stage 1 was still tracing a killing route even though I was aiming along that bizarre red beam…

My mind made an immediate judgment.

I threw myself backward.

-Craaash!

Along with the loud sound of me landing on my behind came proof that my judgement had been right.

-Thuuud!

Something shot toward where the windows had been like harpoons.

I narrowed my eyes as I caught my breath and finally made them out.

-Huuff—.

Fingernails were embedded in the window frame.

The roots of the nails trembled like arrows quivering after striking a target.

At that moment, loud gunfire erupted outside the window.

When I focused, Shin Nain’s telepathic message told me what it was.

'Jemin-ssi, we successfully flanked them. We’ve surrounded Yellow-Bandage. Pastor and I will keep him from running his mouth.’

-Ratata, ratata...

It was gunfire meant more for suppression than killing.

Rather than pouring out bullets indiscriminately, they were firing intermittently to continuously chip away at the enemy’s attention. I stood back up, finished changing the magazine, and pulled the rifle charging handle.

-Clack.

I immediately aimed out the window, but sure enough, Velcro Corporal had already disappeared.

At least I could see a trail of blood dragging away into the alley.

The gunfire from the Supreme Archmages was coming from a short distance away.

Unlike the heavy, thunderous artillery and gunfire coming from Sanseong, Shin Nain and the pastor’s shots only came in occasional bursts amid heavy silence, so I could distinguish them somewhat.

With a little grunt, I hopped through the window.

-Thump!

I absolutely had to get Heart-branch, Stage 2. Once you’d had something like this, losing it again would feel awful. Drunk on myself as I dusted myself off and stood up, I discreetly used the hem of my poncho to cover my piss-soaked pants.

Then I sent Shin Nain a telepathic message.

Looks like Velcro is heading your way. He makes up for his lack of range by shooting his nails, and he uses his gun less than I expected.

A moment later, Shin Nain replied.

'Yellow-Bandage is deliberately leaking information. He seems to genuinely believe what he’s giving away, but I don’t know whether it’s actually true.’

What kind of bullshit is that?

Velcro Corporal's trail was easy to distinguish. There probably wasn’t anyone else here who could eat that many bullets and still walk around normally, so naturally it had to be his.

-Step, step.

I was walking through a complete hellscape littered with corpses, spent casings, bullet marks, and bloodstains.

That was when the deafening roar like the beating wings of giant hornets began building behind me. Drones. Apparently Drone Command had heard about the engagement and was flooding the area with them.

Couldn’t afford to be late.

While pursuing Velcro Corporal, I broke into a run to regroup with Shin Nain and the pastor as well. The doping effect was fading, and since I had no idea when it would cut out completely, I decided to refrain from hopping around rooftops.

My pain and my body were the most important things in the world, after all. Safety first.

I’d wondered whether Velcro Corporal might attack me again, but surprisingly, he seemed to have withdrawn without much trouble. He wasn’t an easy opponent. Whether or not he knew I was doped, he had realized how strong I was and switched from recklessly engaging me to stalling for time instead.

But their fate was already sealed.

The closer I got to the sound of gunfire, the more relaxed I felt.

And there was a good reason for that. I’d seen the drones packed across the sky. Just looking up above the alley, I could count at least 30 of them. Quadcopters carrying firearms and suicide drones shaped like badly molded fish-shaped pastries were flying around without pause. I couldn’t help laughing inwardly at the sight.

It’s over.

I, Great Archmage Baek Jemin, wasn’t the type to get cocky, but there was simply no answer to this.

At this point, all I could do was hope they left remains behind.

At the far end of the alley, I could see Shin Nain and the pastor facing off against the enemy with a building between them. From the rooftop of a villa, SHiN Nain and the pastor were waving some filthy clothes that had been hanging from a laundry line, signaling in my direction.

'Jemin-ssi, regroup!’

The doping was almost over.

With some reluctance, I hopped up, kicked off the wall, and climbed.

-Ratatata!

The moment I reached the rooftop railing, the doping effect was almost gone. A bullet came flying in as though it had been waiting for that exact moment, but all it managed to do was thump heavily against my [Bulletproof] poncho.

Naturally, it still hurt like hell.

I, the testosterone-filled Baek Jemin, squeezed out every last ounce of willpower and held back my scream.

Then immediately dropped flat and joined Shin Nain and Pastor Park Yohan, who were taking cover behind a table they had dragged over.

"Uwaaargh! Haaagh! Aagh!”

"Jemin-ssi, you smell weird."

"Baek Jemin, are you exaggerating again?”

These fucking bastards. Try getting shot yourselves.

If a lead projectile made for the sole purpose of killing people slammed into you and you didn’t scream, then how the hell would that make you human?

I voiced this perfectly logical and reasonable objection.

"Uwaaagh…Sobsob…Mom…”

"Jemin-ssi, Jemin-ssi! Get a grip and stand by!”

"Stand by for what, damn it?! I’m in so much pain I feel like dying!”

If my body had been in decent shape, I would’ve punched Shin Nain right in the damn mouth.

That was when he looked down at me with trembling eyes.

Through the lenses of his gas mask, fear and awe were tangled together in his gaze.

"Gangnam Thousand-Miles Eyes is going to intervene.”

"...!”

I’d never even gone to college, but I moved like the top student who had already claimed the front-row seat before the lecture started.

I skittered behind cover, pulled up my gas mask, wiped away my tears with the end of my sleeve, and practically perked up my ears. The pastor clicked his tongue at the sight, but there was something more important to worry about, so he let it slide. Even Pastor Park Yohan’s voice was trembling with concern inside his gas mask.

"You said he was Ears-branch, Stage 4, right? If what Nain heard is true, then the reason Yellow-Bandage and Velcro showed themselves was because they were counting on Gangnam Thousand-Miles Eyes intervening…”

Honestly, all three of us were at the point of half believing it and half doubting it.

Gangnam Thousand-Miles Eyes did have long-range killing abilities, but he had assumed even he wouldn't be able to save Yellow-Bandage and Velcro when they were surrounded like this.

I gazed up at the sky. Perhaps they had realized we were the Supreme Archmages, because the drones were ignoring us on the rooftop and flying past. Shin Nian had waved the clothes and pointed with his rifle, identifying the building for them.

At first, the quadcopter drones had been searching the surrounding area, but once they noticed Shin Nain’s signal, it wasn’t long before they came swarming over, loudly buzzing.

Their target was the 3rd floor of the villa where Yellow-Bandage and Velcro were hiding.

Since they couldn’t immediately call in artillery, they clearly intended to devastate the place with suicide drones and ordinary gun drones instead. Before I knew it, the area around us had been swallowed by wasp-like buzzing even louder than the artillery, making it painfully clear just how badly the Korean military wanted these bastards dead.

There had to be more than 100 drones just from the ones I could see.

Because they were constantly darting around, circling us as though surrounding the area and tightening the net, it was hard to count them precisely, but I could still see at least 100. On top of that, there would be special forces moving where we couldn’t see them, along with every kind of reconnaissance asset focused on northern Seongnam.

I felt a bit bad for the military unit, probably busy playing monster defense on Sanseong road, but the real battlefield was this villa at the end of a tiny alley.

That was when Yellow-Bandage's, that chatterbox's, voice rang out.

[You guys. Don’t you get it? The age of non-wizards is over.]

-Ding—.

It was a strange chord.

Shin Nain, the pastor, and I all turned toward one another, eyes wide.

"Nain, Baek Jemin, did you hear that?”

"Yes."

"That sounded like a piano or something.”

-Ding, di-ding—♬

The drone swarm was loud enough to drown out even artillery. Even standing next to each other, we had to shout to make ourselves heard. If Yellow-Bandage’s voice hadn’t been coming through some kind of loudspeaker or speaker system, we wouldn’t have been able to make it out either.

And yet that strange note came through perfectly clearly.

There was something deeply wrong about it, like an enormous, majestic orchestra performing a worthless little children’s lullaby. Like fingers plucking strings were striking wind instruments, while percussion was being pressed down by vibrations in the air. A grotesque, massive harmony in which the boundaries between instruments had collapsed.

I titled my head, wondering what the hell it was.

Then, as my gaze wandered, I noticed something wrong with Shin Nain.

"Shin Nain?”

"..."

His pupils were dilated. His eyes were shaking widely. A strand of hair soaked in cold sweat had fallen down and stuck to one corner of his gas mask lens. His breathing through the filter was raging like a storm.

-Huff, huff, huff, huff—.

The pastor noticed something was wrong and stepped over, grabbing Shin Nain by the shoulder.

"Shin Nain. What’s wrong?”

"The music…The music…!”

Shin Nain’s condition was always bad whenever his Ears-branch magic got overloaded, but this was especially severe.

The pastor frowned and looked back at me.

"Baek Jemin, something’s wrong. I’ve got a bad feeling."

"That’s nothing new. Why are you only saying that now…?”

No.

Even I, Baek Jemin, man among men, felt it.

I realized that this strange harmony was absolutely not normal. It wasn’t something my ears were hearing. Just as artillery shook the ground and made my organs vibrate, this was closer to an auditory hallucination produced by a performance so enormous that it shook my entire body.

[We all swore an oath. The moment we overcame the artillery, the moment we beat that precious military of theirs, we’d shove every last one of them into the heads of Mimics. We’d make the bastards who pushed us into hell experience the exact same thing!]

-Thump.

My heart beat. The pentagram engraved on it screamed a frantic warning.

And then something impossible happened.

It felt as though the faintest breath of wind had brushed across the entire sky above Seongnam.

But us three Supreme Archmages knew it wasn’t wind.

It was a performance on an impossibly vast scale.

It was the Music of the Spheres. The celestial motions themselves, carrying within them the fate that could be divined through the movements of the heavens.

The sounds of planets moving through their orbits, things humans could never normally hear and would have no reason to hear, had been degraded into a scale devised by humans and twisted into grotesque music.

Alongside a rasping voice so harsh that neither its sex nor age could be guessed.

—Causal Arrangement.

Only wizards could hear it.

The harbinger of change.

—Malfunction.

There was no spectacular visual effect.

No thunderous explosion or shockwave burst outward.

And yet the drones that had packed the sky began tilting sideways and dropping one after another, like mosquitoes or flies hit with bug spray. Not one or two. Every single drone that had been aggressively swarming down only moments ago, all of them, without exception, were falling from the sky.

-Clatter.

At first, I merely blinked at the drones tumbling lifelessly across the alley.

I seriously wondered whether the aftereffects of [Cognitive Dissonance] had given me actual cognitive dissonance. Then, almost without thinking, I checked my rifle. On a hunch, I removed the magazine, and there was one round sitting in exactly the kind of position where it would easily snag.

When Shin Nain and the pastor saw me checking my magazine, they removed theirs with trembling hands as well.

It was the same for all of us.

If we’d fired without thinking, the rounds would have pinched or caught and caused a jam.

At that moment, as if we had made a promise beforehand, the three of us Supreme Archmages reinserted our magazines and aimed without hesitation at the villa where Yellow-Bandage and Velcro were hiding.

-Clack!

Yellow-Bandage Straggler and Velcro Corporal were on the rooftop.

Yellow-Bandage, wearing his torn-up poncho, was clicking his tongue as he picked up one of the drones that had fallen onto the roof. Judging by the blood running down his left arm, his injury hadn’t healed. Even if he fired, his accuracy probably wouldn’t be very good.

But the shock of what we had just witnessed and felt still hadn't faded. The reason we didn’t immediately open fire was because we were worried that the effects of that absurd magic might still be lingering.

Then Velcro Corporal stepped in front of Yellow-Bandage as though volunteering to be a human shield, blocking our line of fire while idly clicking his elongated nails.

-Clack, clack, clack...

At that moment, Yellow-Bandage, who had been examining the drone from behind Velcro, spoke.

"You guys aren’t exactly great saints yourselves. Doesn’t it piss you off? Why us? Why did South Korea, why did Seoul, have to get fucked like this while people in other countries are still living perfectly fine? We’re dying trying to hold back monsters pouring out, while Japan, China, America, Europe…. Hell, you don't even have to look that far. The people behind the blockade line are probably slurping down some ramen while running their mouths about human rights and whatever else. They’ll spout all the morally correct nonsense about how everyone should be isolated one by one so we can save whoever can still be saved.”

"Why are we the only ones who have to suffer? Why me? It’d be one thing if I’d wanted to join the army. What? Did I have some grand sense of duty? I got dragged into the military, got told to hold the line, did what I was told, and when I tried to run because I wanted to live, suddenly I’m the fucking mass murderer!”

-Thud.

Yellow-Bandage tossed the drone aside.

The fact that listening to that bullshit didn’t make my head hurt meant it wasn’t magic.

Yellow-Bandage and Velcro stood back-to-back, glaring at us as they readjusted their weapons.

Velcro held his in his left hand, Yellow-Bandage held his in his right.

-Clack.

Two Seoul wizards and three Supreme Archmages aimed at one another.

The brief standoff wasn’t an opportunity for conversation.

We immediately pulled the triggers at each other.

-Ratatatatatatatatatatat!!!

Bullets sparked off the railing. Their accuracy was shit since they were both firing one-handed, but a bullet would still kill you, so we had no choice but to take cover as well. We traded fire by sticking only our muzzles out, taking turns shooting, until I met Shin Nain and the pastor’s eyes.

We had to run.

We couldn’t hold out much longer!

We immediately crouched low and sprinted toward the stairs. The last thing I saw was Velcro hopping toward the rooftop of another building. Yellow-Bandage was retreating back inside to avoid being sniped.

-Tap, tap...

Only the lonely sound of our footsteps descending the stairs remained.

And from somewhere far away, carried faintly over a military radio, that chatterbox voice poured out its rage.

[The hell I saw, the monsters I saw, everything I saw and felt! Everyone has to share it together. I can’t be the only one who feels this hell!!!]

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