WETRIED TRANSLATIONS

The Wizard in the Poncho

[Translator – Aren]

Chapter 40 - Traces of Life

The condition of the subway tunnels wasn’t exactly ideal.

Because of the constant shelling and the shutdown of power transmission, there were stretches swallowed in complete darkness where no lights functioned at all. In those places, the only thing we could rely on was the L-shaped flashlights clipped to our chests.

In fact, that was one of the reasons the Korean Army had been trying to demolish or seal underground passages from the very beginning of this crisis.

Narrow underground tunnels made it easy to concentrate firepower, but if your line broke, it was just as easy to get steamrolled all the way through. And the existence of Predator Spines, creatures that moved along walls and ceilings, lurking in the shadows, must have put an enormous strain on the military’s conventional tactics.

Poorly trained conscripts. Monsters with unnatural durability, intelligence, and alien movement patterns. A disaster that erupted suddenly and escalated without warning.

There were countless reasons.

The Korean Army was built to fight humans, not monsters. An 8-man infantry squad had to overcome sheer panic and burn through absurd amounts of ammunition just to put down an Amalgam.

But we, advancing along the tracks, were different.

-Huuuff—.

Shin Nain exhaled deeply through his gas mask filter and tapped the headset beneath his hood. I immediately understood that it was a signal. He had started dropping unnecessary explanations and speaking in simple phrases.

"Spines and faces. A lot of them. Coming from behind too.”

The moment I heard that, I removed my gas mask and hooked it over my left arm, tightening the strap so it wouldn’t slip.

Seeing the gas mask fixed to my forearm like an armband filled me with an inexplicable thrill.

Then I raised my rifle and stuck out my tongue again.

Target, Monster, 1 minute, Path.

My tongue, which had started feeling a bit raw, split apart once again, blood welling out. Still, maybe because we were bruised deep within Seoul’s fog, the wounds weren’t quite as severe.

I swallowed the blood in one gulp.

"Hamza and Pastor, keep low. Sejun-ssi, get a grenade ready. Shitmaster, aim for the faces’ legs.”

The instructions were short and sounded like complete nonsense, but by now, we all understood perfectly.

A moment later, familiar-looking monsters burst into the beams of our tactical lights.

The most eye-catching was a 5-legged Amalgam charging toward us while dragging the body of what looked like a 5-year-old child, hanging from it like some grotesque hunchback.

By now we understood perfectly well that these monsters attacked our humanity itself. That made them easier to deal with.

We were the people who had survived the Teratomas pretending to be babies.

Our Alteration-type trio no longer panicked or grieved. We had become professional wizards who answered horror with anger and hatred.

The one who had changed the most was Lee Sejun. The same Lee Sejun who used to tremble and scream in terror had now transformed his fear into rage. As he pulled the pin from a grenade, I heard him mutter,

"You miserable bastards.”

-Booom!

At first I thought I had accidentally fired first, but I hadn’t.

One of the Hunchback Amalgam’s legs exploded apart, throwing off its balance.

Lee Sejun had launched a dead-on grenade throw using Alteration-type, Heart-branch, Stage 2.

The grenade struck the tracks with a metallic ‘clang.’ Every one of us instinctively ducked and turned our heads.

-Pieeeee—-.

A brief ringing filled my ears. Something rained down in chunks, but there was nothing to fear.

The only expedition was the Predator Spines. Taking advantage of the grenade blast, they came skittering across the ceiling like giant spiders.

I answered them with my rifle. Gunshots pierced through the ringing in my ears, and the sound of skulls splitting apart echoed through the tunnel like smashing watermelons.

At the same time, Shin Nain and Lee Sejun raised their rifles, each aiming in a different direction as they continuously pulled their triggers.

Every time the stench of gunpowder and the clatter of falling brass hit my senses, more of the monsters’ disgusting fluids splashed across the ground. Of course, there was still one type of monster we couldn’t afford to let our guard down against.

While our attention was focused forward, the clicking sound of bones skittering along the walls struck our ears.

At that moment, I lightly bit down on my tongue, already raw from sores.

My suffering stretched longer than any moment I had ever known.

"I see you, bastards!”

Three Predator Spines, just about to leap from the wall, were caught in my vision.

Normally, they would’ve anchored themselves by driving their mutated ribs into the wall to stabilize their position, but one of them was already mid-jump. It crashed awkwardly onto the floor. The thing twitched desperately, trying to regain its footing.

By then, Shin Nain had already finished off the monsters in front of us and turned his rifle toward it.

"Demon of Satan, Demon~. By the grace of the Lord~.”

-Bang, bang! Bang!

For all the shit I gave him, there was no way this guy hadn’t been a picture-perfect ace back in the military. That was the thought that crossed my mind as the heads of the two Predator Spines clinging to the wall exploded apart.

Their skulls seemed slightly softer than actual human skulls. They shattered surprisingly easily.

Meanwhile, Lee Sejun raised his foot over the Predator Spine, still writhing helplessly on the ground.

"Hmph!"

-Crunch!

At first I thought I’d heard wrong, which would’ve been understandable given that it sounded exactly like a large dog chewing through chicken bones.

Lee Sejun’s combat boot had punched straight through the monster’s skull, and apparently that still wasn’t enough for him. He lifted his foot again and began grinding the skull apart with cheerful enthusiasm, like a child stomping around in fresh snow.

I kept my eyes open the entire time.

Because if this idiot got careless and let a Predator Spine latch onto him, I’d never forgive him.

-Blink.

"Lee Sejun, you dumb son of a bitch. Just shoot it. If that thing starts thrashing around while you’re stomping on it and your spine ends up looking like that, I’m not going to go easy on you.”

"But bullets are expensive."

"Right now, porters are more valuable than bullets.”

"...Jemin-ssi.”

Seeing the touched look in Lee Sejun’s eyes, I smiled warmly. After all, he was the only guy here who could casually carry two ammo cans around without breaking a sweat.

Shin Nain finished swapping magazines and walked over around then.

"Replace your magazines now while you can. And there are more monsters than I expected. We’re burning through ammunition pretty fast. Lee Sejun isn't entirely wrong.”

He had a point.

Our destination was Jangji Station. Under normal circumstances, it would’ve been a 5- or 10-minute subway ride. Yet we’d already encountered two separate monster packs. Not one or two monsters either. There were dozens at a time.

Still, I wasn’t in a bad mood.

Why?

Because Pastor Park Yohan and Hamza were staring at us like we were completely insane.

Especially Pastor Park Yohan. The sight of us facing these horrifying monsters without hesitation or fear and without a single injury had left him genuinely impressed.

"Baek Jemin, when did I give you permission to narrate my inner thoughts?”

"You don’t need Shitmaster’s mind-reading powers to figure some things out.”

I Baek Jemin, a man among men, possessed an exceptionally refined ability. I could tell the difference between a look of admiration and respect and a look that said, ‘What the hell is wrong with this guy?’ If Pastor Park Yohan had previously considered me about 90% insane, that number had now dropped to roughly 75%. A dramatic improvement.

Not only that, I also had a remarkable talent for distinguishing genuine praise from empty flattery. And what Hamza had just said was definitely genuine praise.

"It’s incredible. No, seriously, it’s incredible! Soldiers can’t deal with them like this!”

Hamza explained that back when he was at Suwon City Hall, he’d frequently been dragged into command meetings and used like a human lie detector.

According to him, an infantry rifle squad of about 8 soldiers that didn’t panic could kill Amalgams or Predator Spines if they picked a good position and fought properly. The problem was that almost all soldiers capable of that were already concentrated along the first blockade line.

The reason Hamza was giving us such detailed information was obviously to hype us up, and I appreciated that immensely.

As expected, a foreign worker hardened by real-world experience was also a master of workplace politics.

Still, I didn’t hog all the credit for myself.

"Maybe it’s because our Supreme Archmages are just that awesome?”

Excluding the runaway Monk Cheonghwi, the five people here were probably the strongest wizards outside Seoul.

Shin Nain, the fanatic detector who spent over 20 minutes singing hymns on the toilet to maintain sphincter control and never shut up about heretics, yet somehow handled every task with military precision.

Lee Sejun, the seemingly ordinary guy who looked useless at first glance but could blow holes through people’s limbs with grenade throws and carry two 13 kg ammo cans without showing the slightest sign of fatigue.

Hamza, who had shared my Richam luncheon meat.

The Pastor, constantly working his brain behind the scenes.

And me, Baek Jemin, who needed no introduction.

We reformed our formation and continued toward Jangji Station.

"Jemin-ssi, aren’t you changing your magazine?"

"I’ve still got 14 rounds left. Gonna use those up first.”

I decided to keep my gas mask strapped to my arm like an armband until we reached Jangji Station.

-Sluuurp…

I was busy swallowing the blood still seeping from my tongue. Maybe it was irrational, but I felt like if I put the gas mask back on, the smell of blood would soak into the inside.

Though it still smelled better than the revolting stench rising from the monster fluids we were stepping through, of course.

-Squelch, squelch.

"Ugh, this is disgusting.”

Using up the remaining rounds was quite easy.

-Grrrrr...

I aimed my rifle at the hunchback Amalgam that was somehow still groaning.

"Mom, I can’t breathe..."

The body of a 5-year-old child weakly flailed its arms, patting at the melted faces fused around it, as if it were searching for the face it had already lost.

Just to be safe, I glanced at Shin Nain. He snorted.

"There are no human voices.”

"It’s not calling for the Lord like Father Jung Yonghwan did?”

"No."

Figures. Damn it.

I pulled the trigger without any further hesitation.

* * *

What greeted us when we finally arrived at Jangji Station was everyday household trash.

The subway tracks were littered with crushed plastic bottles, empty snack wrappers, and even flies swarming around the stench of human waste. Compared to this place, every slum in the world depicted in documentaries looked positively spotless.

Before entering a new area, we looked to Hamza for a safety check. Hamza nodded stiffly.

"It’s safe."

Safe or not, Jangji Station was filthy and disgusting.

The platform floor itself was relatively clean, but stained clothes and torn bags were scattered everywhere. What immediately caught my attention, however, were the bloodstains.

Even though they had long since turned brown, it was obvious what they were. Because they were in the shape of handprints.

Smears of bloody hands stretched in every direction as if someone had been dragged away. The flies lazily circled overhead, savoring the scent of dried blood. Shin Nain tried examining the area using his Stage 1 Eyes-branch Alteration-type magic, Past Vision, but got nothing.

Then again, anyone could tell these taxes were far older than 1 hour.

Shin Nain glanced over at me.

"Want to give it a try, Jemin-ssi?”

"No."

The blood had already browned, and the condition of the trash suggested considerable time had passed.

Using Tongue-branch magic to search through the past without knowing the exact time frame was something I wanted no part of. I liked magic because I enjoyed what came with it. That didn’t mean I was some ascetic monk willing to suffer pain for trivial results.

Besides, it was painfully obvious what we’d find. Some monster, or lunatic wizard, had come through and wiped everyone out. Why would I put myself through agony just to confirm that?

While Lee Sejun let out a small yawn, Pastor Park Yohan looked around before exhaling into his gas mask filter.

"Maybe they were afraid to move up to the surface. And if the bathrooms are upstairs, there has to be a reason they were relieving themselves near the tracks. Anyway, don’t scatter. Take your time and look around. See if they left any records behind.”

"Who would leave journals or notes in a dump like this?”

The research journal we’d found before had been written by a wizard obsessed with experimentation. I couldn’t imagine an ordinary survivor group doing the same.

But the pastor immediately shot down my narrow-minded thinking.

"You idiot. How do you think people survived in Seoul without wizards? Unless this palace collapsed right at the very beginning, there was probably at least one wizard around. Maybe the leader or someone important. And when there’s no data signal and no wifi, you can’t rule out the possibility that somebody started writing things down. Phone memos, notes, anything.”

"I see…”

The theory was surprisingly convincing. A group of survivors who had secured some degree of safety, only to become trapped by monsters, would have had not much else to do besides write.

Come to think of it, some of the monsters we’d fought on our way here might have once belonged to Jangji Station’s survivor group.

Pastor Park Yohan rolled his neck a couple of times and stroked his K2 rifle.

"For now, stay away from wherever the bathrooms are. Assume there was a reason they chose to relieve themselves near the tracks. Let’s just search the platform area.”

And so us Supreme Archmages began searching for traces of survivors.

Then a strange thought occurred to me. Was there a reason all these filthy clothes had been tossed around so carelessly?

I nudged a pile aside with my boot. Underneath were bloodstains they hadn't managed to erase. Apparently they’d been using the dirty clothes like rags to scrub away the blood scattered across the platform.

The others cautiously moved clothing aside as well. They grimaced at the smell, then sighed.

Only Lee Sejun tried forcing a joke, chuckling awkwardly inside his gas mask.

"Don’t tell me they actually resorted to cannibalism.”

"With a department store right next door?”

"That’s exactly why I’m saying it.”

Our Supreme Archmages searched from one end of the platform to the other, examining every corner of Jangji Station we could reach.

Whether it was fortunate or unfortunate.

We eventually found something strange at the very end of the platform.

Melted candles sat there, their wicks long burned away.

In front of them lay phones with shattered screens and dead batteries, neatly arranged as if someone had carefully placed every single one.

Standing before what looked like a memorial, mourning phones in place of bodies, none of us could bring ourselves to speak.

Pastor Park Yohan reflexively reached for his glasses before remembering he was wearing a gas mask and lowered his hand.

There were about 70 phones in total.

In a palace where not even a single corpse remained, it was proof that at least 70 people had once lived here.

The surrounding walls, pillars, and floor were covered with words scrawled in rotten flash and dried brown blood.

[Kill all those fucking bastards]

[Why us? Why me?]

[I won’t forgive them]

-Huuff, huuff….

There was nothing mystical about the writing. No magical power lingered within them, yet the resentment and curses embedded in those words struck us, outsiders from beyond Seoul, with painful clarity.

Pastor Park Yohan let out a long sigh before turning to us.

"Find an outlet. See if any of these phones can still be charged. Let’s stay here for a while.” I…need to offer up some prayers.”

Pastor Park Yohan shrugged.

At that, Shin Nain narrowed his eyes and asked,

"Pastor, it’s not even certain these people attended church. How can you presume they’ll be admitted through Heaven’s gates?”

"What are you talking about? They’re probably burning in Hell already. I’m praying they at least get roasted on low heat.”

"As expected of you, Pastor. I find myself humbled.”

The moment those words left his mouth, Lee Sejun, Hamza, and I instinctively backed away and formed our own little trio.

That was when Hamza leaned closer and whispered,

“How does our Islamic Heaven sound?”

"But you can’t eat pork there, though.”

"But when you reach Paradies, Allah arranges a marriage for you.”

"Can He turn you into a cute girl too?”

The instant Hamza heard that, he immediately distanced himself from us.

I understood his reaction perfectly and couldn’t hide my despair.

Meanwhile, Lee Sejun looked utterly pleased with himself, showing an entirely unwarranted sense of camaraderie, and turned to me and declared.

"If Paradise can’t turn me into a cute TS anime girl, then it’s not truly omnipotent. Right?”

"Quit talking bullshit and go find a power outlet.”

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