WETRIED TRANSLATIONS

The Wizard in the Poncho

[Translator – Aren]

Chapter 93 - Investing in Real Estate 100 Years Early

The year had been eventful in every possible sense.

Even if I only went over the major incidents, there were plenty.

The appearance of the strange fog, the outbreak of horrific monsters, the government’s insane decision to abandon 10 million citizens and seal off Seoul, Lee Sejun’s shocking wish, the Korean Peninsula effectively beginning to be partitioned between China and the United States, the countless truths I encountered while advancing toward the pinnacle of magic…

"Haah."

I let out a sigh and slumped onto a bench.

Thank God there was one tucked away in a corner of the field hospital, where soldiers groaning in pain constantly came and went.

At the edge of my vision, Republic of Korea soldiers with unfocused eyes shuffled around, quietly crying to themselves.

One strange thing was that there were hardly any soldiers being carried on stretchers with genuinely fatal wounds, dying before our eyes.

The US soldiers watching the ward from beyond the barbed wire in the distance looked puzzled, but since I knew what the blockade line was really like, I quickly understood why.

The fatally injured were killed before the monsters could get them.

Otherwise, the monsters dragged them away.

I only barely learned the truth behind the dog-tag armband soldiers through bits of conversation I happened to overhear.

Right then, I heard the familiar jingling as some passed beside me.

"Were you the one who took Sergeant First Class Shim’s dog tags?”

"Yes..."

"Then put them on your armband.”

I could only see them from behind, but it was obvious.

One of them, visibly timid, forced his stiff, tense legs to move in a wide arc, while another walked with his shoulders artificially squared, pulling out a cigarette with trembling fingers.

There were few people actively dying, but the shadow of death still lingered.

Then wasn’t it about time to look for signs of the living?

Just then, Hamza approached carrying a file folder.

"Jemin-ssi. What are you staring at?”

"Eavesdropping on the dog-tag armband guys.”

"Forget that and check the news for once. See what happened to Pakistan too.”

I flicked my thumb across the smartphone screen and began skimming through all kinds of reactions and articles using the AI auto-translation.

The time happened to catch my eye in the corner of the screen.

May 8th, 2028, 2:16 PM.

While I was checking, Hamza naturally dropped down beside me and leaned his head over slightly.

"Hamza. Don’t you have a phone?”

"My smartphone still hasn’t been approved.”

"You’ve got it rough too, huh?”

I started by quickly checking domestic websites, which were already being swept by full-scale censorship and control.

As expected of the country where the monster outbreak had begun and where the grotesque system known as the blockade line had taken shape, there was no shortage of sensational information. The important part was that most of the conspiracy theories and tabloid rumors were actually based on facts.

Even the huge headline right at the top was like that.

[Martial-law troops in cities indiscriminately attempt to detain citizens protesting the emergency measures. Where have the disappeared gone?]

It was true.

The Korean-US Combined Command was currently pulling people in from the rear in order to scrape together every individual with an aptitude for magic and to maintain the infrastructure of Gyeonggi Province, which served as the second blockade line. Specialist soldiers and civilian Operators were the most prominent examples.

"They’re putting all of them into the fog right now. To rotate out the troops on the Seoul blockade line.”

"What about the ones trapped in Seongnam?”

"I think that’s why. There were people on the Seongnam side who disobeyed orders. Marshal McKinsey announced that he was readjusting the overall level of control, so demand for Ears-branch wizards and shamans to deploy there suddenly shot up. Detection specialists were already in high demand to begin with.”

"You’re allowed to tell me juicy intel like that?”

If anything, I was the one freaking out at how casually Hamza was spilling information that sounded like it ought to have ‘Top Secret’ or ‘Confidential’ stamped all over it.

Hamza looked me straight in the eyes, scratched his chin, then twitched his beard with a confident smile.

"Jemin-ssi. I’m not a soldier. I’m a civilian. Best of the Best. Command probably told me knowing I’d talk about some of it.”

"Ooh~"

Hamza and I basked in the prestige of being Supreme Archmages for a moment before returning to the main topic.

According to what Hamza had picked up while going in and out of Command, this was how things worked.

Those so-called specialist soldiers were basically proof that the military had looked at someone and decided that they were useful enough to keep.

People who volunteered out of strong patriotism or altruism, or who had no criminal history and whose families’ whereabouts were clearly known, were scouted by the military and designated as specialist soldiers. They operated alongside ordinary soldiers and had complicated chains of affiliation, but in exchange, their families received priority for evacuation.

Specialist soldiers were incorporated into the military supply network and, as human assets the military was responsible for, were unofficially given the highest priority treatment outside of blockade-line duties.

Their official designation was Battlefield Environment Management Specialists, but because the name sounded like some kind of facilities-maintenance job, everyone usually just called them specialist soldiers.

Then what were civilian Operators?

Being designated civilian Operators was basically proof that someone was considered a useful asset with a high risk of fleeing, low social credibility, and an uncooperative attitude toward the military, so they got dumped into that category instead.

Of course, the first-generation civilian Operators, our own formidable Supreme Archmages and the Taeguk Cloak Brigade, had been 100% volunteers. Unfortunately, most of those meaningful and courageous people had been ground down and lost as expendable resources, maintaining the blockade line.

With most of those first-generation civilian Operators dead or missing, the military had apparently been forced to drastically revise its original strategy.

At this point, Hamza deliberately lowered his voice and told me what he had figured out.

"Jemin-ssi. This was Command’s original plan.”

Based on the Korean-US Combined Command’s estimate of the forces the Korean government had mobilized around the capital since last December, along with what they learned after taking over the work of Reality Survival Command, their estimate of the situation at the time went like this.

80 thousand troops had been stationed inside Seoul, including the Capital Defense Command. Another 120 thousand from frontline divisions had been concentrated in Seoul and in the northern region. Another 140 thousand from front- and rear-line divisions had been stationed around the outskirts of Seoul in preparation for an unforeseen incident.

In total, they believed roughly 340 thousand troops had been deployed around Seoul.

Only then did I understand why, long before all this, the National Assembly had been attacking the government over the unrest in Seoul and asking whether it was merely a pretext for a coup d’état.

"Even if I’d had my head screwed on straight, I would’ve thought this was a coup staged by the ruling power itself.”

"For a coup, it lacked speed, and the number of troops mobilized was so enormous that people probably would’ve assumed the United States had given its tacit approval. This was practically the scale of an all-out war."

Anyway, Seoul became a hellscape, and troops stationed inside the city were annihilated.

The military’s original strategy had apparently been to hold the first blockade line with specialist soldiers and the surviving frontline divisions while operating the second blockade line in Gyeonggi as a series of fortified positions using less highly trained second-line units, reservists, and civilian Operators, hunting monsters as soon as they were discovered like a giant game of whack-a-mole.

But if things ever went according to plan, there wouldn't have been a monster outbreak in the first place.

The civilian Operator system, now reorganized under Marshal McKinsey, worked like this.

"They charge you for transport to the outskirts of Seoul, the cost of escorting and protecting you until you awaken to magic in the fog, and even basic supply expenses. In exchange, you carry out missions that pay in MPC. You can convert those certificates into dollars, and if you save up 1000 MPC, you’re allowed to leave the blockade line.”

"Even if you leave the blockade line, you’re still stuck in Korea. What are you supposed to do after that?”

"If you save up another thousand, your family gets priority evacuation. Another thousand after that gets you US permanent residency, and another gets you evacuation to the US. I heard they're already working on a system that ranks people by performance and makes the discrimination obvious by giving them different colored identification bands.”

"What about non-wizards who can’t awaken magic? They can’t become civilian Operators.”

"They go to the factories."

I understood immediately.

They were going to take what they had done with us Supreme Archmages and expand it into a broader, subcontractor-style system.

They give you a basic peashooter, a gas mask, and some ammunition. Everything else in terms of military equipment, figure out how to get it yourselves. Pay MPC for anything you use from the military supply network. Complete missions and earn MPC, then use those MPC to buy your own survival.

In exchange, the more missions you complete, the better you’re treated.

It’s shitty, but suck it up, endure it, and prove what you can do.

The final endgame reward is evacuation overseas.

I couldn’t help scoffing at the future generations of civilian Operators. Did they really think people would be motivated by something like this?

"They should be begging to live near the blockade line, and instead they’re going on about evacuating overseas.”

"Jemin-ssi, don’t you have an American Dream?”

"I’ve got a Magical Dream.”

Seoul real estate had won yet again.

Any wizard trying to leave the fog-access zone was worthless trash beneath even a non-wizard.

Then another thought suddenly occurred to me.

"Northern Gyeonggi was abandoned, right? Do you know what happened to the soldiers there?”

"Scroll down a bit.”

Hamza tapped the screen with his index finger and pointed toward the bottom.

I swiped upward with my thumb once more, and sure enough, some absolutely ridiculous headlines immediately jumped out to me.

[China declares responsibility in face of crisis threatening all humanity following monster outbreak on Korean Peninsula…’We will resolve the crisis together with Korea’s Incheon Government, re-elected through democratic vote.’ Statement takes aim at Korean-US Combined Command in Pyeongtaek, now effectively reduced to military rule.]

[Great-power rivalry over the Korean Peninsula finally lights the fuse as relations deteriorate…China officially announces creation of ‘Korea-China Combined Command’...]

[Remaining Korean forces in northern Gyeonggi announce support for Incheon Korean Government and Korea-China Combined Command, causing shock. Military experts give weight to claims declaration was made in exchange for promised large-scale material support.]

I didn’t have much of a reaction.

The monsters were already running loose. What good would hating China now do?

Setting aside the fact that China pissed me off enough to make me want to bet my life on it, telling the abandoned troops in northern Gyeonggi not to accept Chinese support was basically telling them to die and become monsters.

Still, I couldn’t avoid having my mood ruined.

I tapped the screen off, and Hamza let out a small exclamation before protesting.

"Jemin-ssi! What about Pakistan?!”

"It’s probably fine. It can’t be more fucked than Korae is right now.”

"Well, true.”

I didn’t know much about what kind of country Pakistan was, but apparently it had become a nicer place to live than the Republic of Korea in 2028.

"You’re surprisingly not trying to run away.”

"Because you’d shoot me, Jemin-ssi.”

"You know me well.”

My ruined mood melted away at Hamza’s complete lack of interest in making a break for it.

There was no such thing as desertion among Supreme Archmages.

Once a Supreme Archmage, always a Supreme Archmage.

Our strong bonds of camaraderie were the pride of the Supreme Archmages.

Besides if Hamza, future holy relic that he was, ever said he wanted to quit the Supreme Archmages, I’d have no choice but to pull the trigger through my tears so we could remain friends forever.

I liked Hamza alive too, but if the alternative was watching him leave Korea, I’d rather stay together with Holy Relic Hamza.

"More importantly, what’s in that file you’ve been carrying around this whole time?”

"Ah, right.”

Only then did Hamza hand me the file he had been holding.

I took it since he was giving it to me, but when I stared at it blankly, wondering what it was, Hamza twitched his beard and kindly explained.

"Your comprehensive examination results came back, Jemin-ssi.”

"What? If they were out, you should’ve given them to me immediately!”

This was the whole reason I’d been stuck sitting on a bench during this precious time when I should’ve been heading to the blockade line, showing off my badass magic, getting praised, killing monsters, and shoveling in experience points!

I hurriedly looked through it, but none of the text seemed particularly interesting.

Liver enzymes normal, blood pressure normal, no damage to the optic nerve or retina, some mouth ulcers, scarring on both hands from repeated injuries, minor nerve damage in the left hand, nerve fatigue…

Skimming through the thing to that point, it basically made me out to be the picture of a healthy young man.

Healthy enough that I could probably stop exercising entirely and still make it to 80 without so much as a minor illness.

If it weren’t for the image of my chest.

At first, I doubted my own eyes.

The contrast was so extreme it looked like the colors had been inverted, so I had no choice but to look at Hamza and ask,

"Is this AI-generated?”

"No."

There was a star drawn over my heart.

A pentagram.

May 8th, 2028, 5:14 PM.

Lee Sejun, who had finished a lap around the training field before me, scrunched up his face.

"There was something drawn over my heart too. But mine was just one line, so they asked if I’d ever had heart surgery. When I said no, they just marked it down as an abnormal sign and moved on.”

Just in case, I asked Lee Sejun, our Heart-branch wizard, and apparently something had been inscribed over his heart too, but his was only a single line.

Since only me, Lee Sejun, and Hamza had returned to the barracks so far, even putting our heads together didn’t lead us to any clear conclusion.

So, reluctantly, we decided to rummage through the pastor’s things, since he knew the most about mysticism among us.

Maybe he had a notebook where he’d organized relevant knowledge.

Lee Sejun had already lost interest and was busy stuffing his face with snacks he’d bought at the Post Exchange.

"Come to think of it, Jemin-ssi, you still owe me a lap.”

I ignored Lee Sejun’s nonsense.

Then Hamza butted in this time.

"Jemin-ssi, isn't that stealing?”

Hamza, who clearly didn’t understand the finer details, voiced his concern, so I kindly corrected him.

"Hamza. What do you call moving something to the person who needs it more, like offerings from a church collection box?”

"Transportation?”

"The pastor already believes in Jesus, which means he has implicitly consented to involuntary transportation. Stop saying weird stuff and help me search.”

Unfortunately, the pastor’s backpack contained nothing but a revised Bible, a cross, a candlestick, chocolate, bottled water, and Viagra.

I carefully put the pastor’s backpack back in order and had no choice but to think things through myself.

I was on my own now, and the problem was that there was not much that came to mind when I thought of a pentagram.

Spiritual protection, maybe?

If something had gone so far as to carve a pentagram over my heart, there had to be something unusual about it, but the possibilities were far too vague, so I could only frown.

I had been thinking about it for quite a while when I heard a vehicle pull up nearby.

When I turned my head, Captain Kim Howoon was hurrying toward us.

I was just starting to worry that maybe something else had shown up in my examination results.

"Baek Jemin-ssi. You’ve been called in again.”

"What? Jemin-ssi hasn’t even eaten properly today because of all the examinations this morning…”

The moment Hamza tried to protest, I swiftly shoved my hand into the pastor’s backpack.

My fingers closed around a bundle of chocolate.

Without hesitation, I tore the wrapper open immediately.

-Riiiip!

Then, without the slightest pause, I dumped it into my mouth and crunched away. I had no time to appreciate whether the chocolate tasted sweet or bitter.

The moment I crunched it down with a hard crack and swallowed it, I held out my hand toward Hamza.

"Hamza."

"Yes?"

"Water.”

A bottle of water flew out of the pastor’s backpack and into my hand.

I twisted off the cap, washed my hands, wiped my mouth clean, rinsed once, then gulped the whole thing down.

Bottled water goes bad if you leave it sitting around too long.

Chocolate melts if you leave that around too long as well, so this Great Archmage decided to make good use of both.

Once I finished that entire sequence of preparations, I hurriedly grabbed my rifle and gas mask and threw on my poncho.

Ready.

Total time to change and gear up: 5 minutes!

"..."

I flashed Captain Kim Howoon, who was staring at me like an idiot, a toothy grin.

"Let’s go."

I had been getting depressed thinking I might waste the whole day, so this worked out perfectly.

I really couldn’t understand people trying to leave the blockade line.

If hunting these grotesque, horrific monsters meant I could pursue omnipotence, why wouldn’t I?

Fog-access real estate is booming!

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