Does Magic Have Copyright Too?
“China is claiming they’ve succeeded in developing magic on their own. That’s why I called you, Yuria-nim—to ask if you could identify what they’re really up to.”
“Damn it.”
I couldn’t stop myself from blurting the curse at the Prime Minister, then immediately backpedaled.
“Ah, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. Let me explain the situation in detail…”
According to him, about an hour ago Korean time, a short video had been uploaded to a platform called TakTok. In it, a buzz-cut man conjured fire in his palm.
“Similar challenges have gone viral before, but they were all CG or AI. This one was different.”
“How so?”
“During the magic activation, there was no trace of the usual blue glow or flowing light effects. None at all.”
“Huh. That’s suspicious.”
I thought back to when I’d taught magic to anchor Cha Yoorim. I’d deliberately added swirling blue light effects so the process wouldn’t look boring. Most people probably assumed magic always came with blue light now. Earlier demonstrations—at the press conference and the naval firepower test—had either omitted the casting process or used bright, flashy attack spells that hid the details. The blue glow I showed was pure showmanship. Everyone copying magic videos had followed that convention… until this guy casually ignored it and just lit a plain little flame.
Reasonable suspicion, indeed.
“We’ve identified the account owner, but since the person appears to be a foreign national, direct contact is… politically delicate.”
“Ugh. So it’s going to turn into an international incident no matter what, right? What a mess.”
“Haah… We’ll need to coordinate with the diplomatic working-level staff, and… aigoo… haah…”
A heavy sigh came through the line. I tried to offer some positive spin to calm him down.
“When I taught Cha Yoorim-nim, maybe someone just copied it. We don’t need to assume leaks or worst-case scenarios, do we?”
“Let’s discuss this properly at Samcheong-dong. The working team is already gathering there.”
“Samcheong Education Camp?”
“…Pardon?”
You just said Samcheong! Oh, the Prime Minister’s official residence is in Samcheong-dong? Ah, Samcheong Education Camp isn’t in Samcheong? It was named after the place where that octopus-headed dictator stayed? …Another round of me proudly displaying my ignorance followed, and I had to apologize again.
***
Meanwhile, in Yantai, Shandong Province, China.
Yantai was a mid-sized industrial city a little beyond Shanghai—one of East Asia’s logistics hubs—famous for its airport, seaport, and industrial complexes. Think of it as the Korean equivalent of Sacheon next to Busan.
Where people and cargo flowed in volume, tools to control that flow were naturally abundant.
China’s Ministry of State Security—their equivalent of a national intelligence agency—had a branch of its ultra-secret Special Affairs Bureau here in Yantai. The Coastal Special Office, Department 3, or simply “3rd Coastal Office” to insiders, was hidden inside one of the warehouses belonging to a logistics company at Yantai Port.
From the outside, it looked like an ordinary container yard with yellowish-brown panels and the name “Wonbang International Logistics Co., Ltd.” on the wall. Inside, however, the atmosphere was entirely different.
A red banner with yellow characters hung under dim lighting: “If a child errs, the parents discipline them. If an adult commits a crime, the state disciplines them.” Armed men in their prime—carrying firearms openly, something even local warlords and their direct subordinates avoided after the crackdown on organized crime—stood guard.
“Please, spare me! I’ve always been loyal to the Communist Party!”
In the center, a buzz-cut man tied to a metal chair wailed. In truth, he had no real loyalty—just a farmer’s son who had spent his life watching the Party’s mood. But when faced with the Ministry of State Security, far more terrifying than ordinary police, he had no choice but to beg.
The suited buzz-cut man sitting opposite ignored the pleas and held up a phone sealed in a plastic bag.
“You uploaded this video, didn’t you?”
—Maybe I’ll become China’s first magician! Haha! Did I film it well?
After a month of meditating with friends and standing under waterfalls, trying to grasp the profound mysteries of magic, the half-joking experiment inspired by the global sensation of magic had become reality.
“W-why is that video a problem?”
He had never imagined being dragged in over something so trivial.
The security officer pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, lit one with practiced ease, and took a drag.
“Want a smoke?”
He offered one to the bound man as if doing him a favor. The captive, however, squeezed his eyes shut and trembled violently, terror blinding him.
“I’m sorry. I’ll never upload anything like that again—”
Smack!
“Aagh!”
Stars exploded in front of the man’s eyes. The stinging on his cheek registered as shock more than pain.
The officer casually shook out his hand and repeated the question.
“Tsk. Again. Do you smoke?”
“Hii—hic! Please, please spare me! Spare—”
Smack! Crack!
“Again.”
After five rounds of “again,” the buzz-cut man—now missing several teeth—finally accepted the cigarette. His eyes had gone blank, and he could only make vacant, wheezing sounds.
“Show me some magic.”
“Ugh… Visualize, let it flow, gather it, turn imagination into reality…”
A flame the size of a candle flickered into existence in the air before him. The security officers’ eyes gleamed with interest.
No matter how powerful magic and its derived technologies were, what use were they if they remained in the hands of ordinary individuals?
“Great endeavors naturally belong to a great nation. Don’t you agree?”
This man who could now use magic would serve the Party, the state, and the people. Having spent his life as a jobless nobody, he should be grateful to finally have a purpose.
“Send him to Hangzhou.”
***
“Bullshit.”
Even a passing mutt would probably wag its tail and agree.
“Yuria-nim, perhaps tone it down a little…”
“Someone learned magic just from an explanation with zero foundation? That would make them a genius among geniuses—one who appears maybe once every ten years, or even a hundred, even in the other world. Otherwise, they’re just a fraud.”
The sensitivity to feel and absorb mana, the intuitive sense to imagine and materialize spells, and the extremely rare physical compatibility required to wield magic at all—breaking through all those barriers would require a true prodigy. Anything less was a scam.
I naturally leaned toward the latter explanation. But I could no longer stubbornly insist on it. Fresh intelligence from the information officer had made that impossible.
We were in the Prime Minister’s official residence in Samcheong-dong. The reception room smelled pleasantly of green tea and left a grand impression. My tax money (which I still hadn’t paid) had built this modern palace.
“The video has already been taken down, and both the channel and uploader accounts have vanished. The signals intelligence division also detected a significant increase in communications traffic.”
“Where was most of the traffic directed?”
At the Prime Minister’s question, the officer hurriedly scrolled through his tablet.
“Facilities linked to public security and the Ministry of State Security, plus a life sciences research institute near Hangzhou.”
“Shandong, then Hangzhou… They’re running circles. We can’t keep dismissing this as fake.”
So the conclusion was that an unprecedented magic prodigy had caught the Communist Party’s eye and been hauled off to a research institute.
“They wouldn’t have sent him for a health checkup. The mysteries of the human body—”
“Ahem! Well, they’ll be doing things beyond our ability to predict. Yes.”
The Prime Minister glossed over my ominous remark with obvious discomfort. Why couldn’t he just say it outright?
“Mana doesn’t even have physical substance. What would dissecting him reveal besides meat? Ah, human meat—”
“Ahem-ahem!! Ahem! More importantly! We have! An urgent! Matter! To discuss!”
Tch. I’ll let it slide this time.
“What matter?”
Prime Minister Kim Jaewoo, sweating like he was caught in a downpour, hurriedly had his secretary distribute the documents on the table.
The assembled foreign ministry officials and other key diplomatic figures accepted the papers, skimmed the contents, then all turned their gazes toward me at once.
“Why are you all staring at me so intensely?”
Pretty faces, the lot of them… I thought to myself as I picked up the document.
Strategy for Early Establishment of the Magic Bureau and Leading Positioning in Related Technologies
I set the paper back down.
“Early establishment?”
Prime Minister Kim Jaewoo adjusted his glasses and nodded.
“Given China’s move, we have no idea what will happen next. If they start demonstrating even a few technologies, Korea’s advantage could be diluted.”
Ha. Unbelievable. It felt like the original restaurant owner panicking because a knockoff shop across the street had started researching the recipe. Did they really doubt my abilities that much?
“I can’t just let that statement slide. Are you worried I’ll lose to them?”
The Prime Minister waved his hands frantically.
“I think there’s a misunderstanding. That’s not the intention. We have to consider the impact on the international community.”
“Bigger than fusion power, cancer cures, anti-aging, and infinite energy pouring out every single day?”
Weren’t they severely underestimating the magical knowledge I possessed, the three thousand years of applied magical technology I’d accumulated, and the countless ways I could pressure rival nations?
But when the Foreign Minister took over the explanation, I could no longer argue.
“The mere fact that China can develop magic independently, without Korea or Yuria-nim’s help, would be enough to derail or shrink global cooperation. No matter how great the benefits, if they come at the cost of dependency, it becomes diplomatically fatal.”
“That’s… true.”
“Therefore, if possible, we must block the possibility of such independent research. If we can’t block it, we need to set the stage so they end up isolated in their own little world.”
Hmph. Infuriating, but correct. I nodded and downed my now-lukewarm tea in one gulp.
“So in the end, direct sabotage or covert operations carry too much risk, so the plan is for us to establish the Magic Bureau first and frame everything as joint cooperation?”
“Exactly. The VIPs and stakeholders are already aware of this contingency plan. If you agree, we can have everything ready within twenty-four hours.”
These people were completely prepared. Well, the possibility that a rival nation might pursue an independent magic development line wasn’t zero. Still, was this thorough preparation or just needless worry…?
“Well, looks like we don’t have much choice. Let’s do it.”
It’ll work out somehow.