Chapter 359
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 359
Chapter Title: 147. Mountain Lord (1)
Government reports stated that the artillery unit from the Legion faction, which had shelled New Seoul, suffered devastating losses from our counterfire.
"They misjudged their opponent and charged in blindly."
Kim Byung-chul glared at the large operational map on the table with bloodshot eyes, a cigarette dangling from his fingers.
"That happens. When you've been playing king in your little domain for too long, you lose your fear."
He'd called me in for a mission.
He requested reconnaissance on the obliterated warlord's artillery positions, captured by drone.
It was something soldiers could handle, but he'd called us specifically because they had almost no usable assets left.
He'd recruited a handful of his own men, plus volunteers lured by food and better conditions, but as always, planting flags on territory required numbers.
Besides, among Kim Byung-chul's subordinates, the elite troops were few, and more importantly, the drone aerial photos showed something ominous.
Footprints.
Enormous ones, at first glance.
"It's a mutation."
Kim Daram said.
"Looks like a feline."
Kim Byung-chul nodded.
"I did send a vanguard unit ahead. But they spotted a massive beast's shadow and hightailed it out. And get this... the beast they described..."
He lit the cigarette and exhaled white smoke from his nose and mouth simultaneously.
"...looked like a tiger."
Is there any animal more deeply embedded in Korean sensibilities than the tiger?
Tigers in the wild went extinct long ago, but we still treat them as if they live beside us, featuring them in myths, legends, stories, and media.
I don't have any special feelings about tigers myself.
My interest peaks at facts: large feline, skilled in ambush and stealth, opportunistic predator with explosive speed.
But not everyone thinks like me.
Plenty of people still revere tigers as spiritual beasts.
"There used to be this thing called the Three Divine Beasts. Especially powerful and troublesome mutations."
I knew Kim Daram wasn't the superstitious type.
She was just compiling rumors others spread.
"Among the government-designated wanted mutations, the really hard-to-catch ones."
"Was there a tiger among them?"
Kim Byung-chul asked, and Kim Daram shook her head.
"There was one above it."
She snorted, as if even she found it ridiculous, and stared wearily at the aerial photo on the monitor.
"Called the Mountain Lord."
*
Even back in our day, it was common knowledge that experienced, powerfully mutated originals were more dangerous than monsters.
Monsters generally don't kill humans out of intent.
Their goal is to sicken the Earth itself; killing is just incidental revenue.
Mutations are different.
Many still avoid humans, but those that include humans in their "prey" actively hunt and slaughter us.
The nightmare of Punjab, a tiger mutation, was known to have killed and devoured nearly a thousand humans over three years in northern India.
If this Mountain Lord really was a tiger mutation, we couldn't afford to let our guard down.
Kim Daram had the intel.
"I think it's overhyped."
Our mindsets aligned.
We chased reality over fantasy, results over exaggeration.
"Other wanted mutations have objectively proven casualties, but the Mountain Lord has no solid data on attacks."
"Then why's it ranked above that Three Divine whatever?"
I hadn't encountered every famous mutation, but I'd tangled with plenty of nasty ones myself.
Armored monkeys, killer eagle owls, and my old pal Gold, now half-legend.
Honestly, far tougher than your average monster.
To claim the top spot among those, a tiger identity alone wouldn't cut it—there had to be something special.
"There's this story: no reports of Mountain Lord attacks because no survivors."
"Really?"
"Isolated villages or shelters become its hunting grounds, and quite a few have vanished that way."
"Not human work?"
"Early war, couldn't rule out Chinese spec ops, but tiger-like footprints were found at some of those wiped-out sites."
Kim Daram sighed, staring at the drone photos on her tablet.
"Those piled up into the Mountain Lord legend."
I eyed her.
"You believe it's real?"
"No."
Kim Daram answered firmly.
The recon team departed at dawn.
Eight members total.
Four hunters, three soldiers, one driver.
We got a wheeled armored vehicle.
High-altitude recon drones overhead fed us real-time threats along the route.
Strong outfit—top gear, top personnel.
"You don't have to go yourself, sunbae."
Kim Daram said while checking gear.
Our rapport was still awkward.
We were once the best team, but too much had piled up between us.
No going back to that trusting partnership.
Maybe age brought wisdom... or suspicion.
"Nothing else to do. Looks like we'll be mopping up for a while. Plus."
I snorted.
"If there's a Mountain Lord, I wanna see it myself."
Kim Daram stared, then smiled faintly, like she'd remembered something.
"Come to think of it, sunbae, you loved the Punjab Nightmare, right?"
"Punjab Nightmare?"
I knew it, but played dumb.
"That tiger mutation in India."
"Oh, that one."
"Back in school, you said if you ever went to India, you'd hunt it down."
"Did I?"
"Yeah. You rarely shared personal stuff, so I remember clearly."
"...Huh."
She was probably right.
My pathological curiosity showed even then.
As India teetered on collapse, debates raged on aid or abandonment. Young folks rushed over voluntarily.
Most vanished with India, but lucky survivors shared intel I devoured.
The Punjab Nightmare tiger was one.
Famous as hell.
"Same tiger vibe, so I figured that's why you're volunteering."
"Nah. Just intrigued by the name Mountain Lord."
Mountain Lord historically meant mountain spirit, but in Joseon era, a fearsome tiger plaguing people.
No telling if tigers really existed in Korea.
Wild ones extinct, but escaped zoo ones mutating? Possible.
Most likely: oversized cat mutation.
Coincidental tiger-like patterning, terrorizing folks, birthing the legend.
"Yeah?"
Kim Daram prodded, but I didn't answer.
One reason I couldn't.
"..."
Time to hunt material.
Not in reality—for the net.
Lately, a copycat emerged.
*
The Necropolis influx extended our board's life—my intent—but good intentions rarely yield only good results.
First impression wasn't bad.
A fan imitating the legendary named me? Cute.
That familiar title: from John_nenon to Skeleton—my perfect identity.
But this no-name started grating when his posts kept hitting hot lists.
Jeremy Irons.
This spiteful mimic oddly knew the fates of old celebrities inside out.
Critics called me out too, but I figured his "celebrities' miserable ends" series was fiction from his imagination, not reality. The dumb masses filling the board disagreed.
They lapped up his fabricated tales like gospel.
Koreans love gossip and celebs—we know that—but four years into war, is this appropriate?
Maybe the sensational "final moments/endings" keywords hooked them.
Not bragging, but I fancy myself an expert on "tales."
Not my usual trend-chasing gig, but for the new digs, I revived the Skeleton Tales series.
About Finger Princess Yeo Sa-yul.
Pre-war A-list actress, MIA post-war, but appeared here, built slight net rapport with me. Straight facts, no frills.
Not exciting, no drama.
But 100% true.
Lightyears beyond Jeremy's sci-fi fanfic.
Alt account upvote and comment for good measure.
That was the last comment.
Thousands from Necropolis, yet zero on mine? After the copycat insult, it stung.
Reupped.
...
...
...
Title tweaks, still nada.
Then.
Board buddy advised.
Asked him direct.
Not fun.
What lacked fun? My fact-based structure? The abrupt ending? Or stale celeb Yeo Sa-yul?
Salt in wound: post-reups, Jeremy dropped this.
My post had one upvote; his rocketed to twenty, hot list bound.
Click.
Simmering rage, I read.
"..."
Fun.
But material issue.
He dug better bait.
Better material, and Skeleton Tales reclaims glory.
Maybe why I'm here.
"We're here."
Armored car halted.
Drone pilot broadcast filled comms.
"No hostiles in op zone. Repeat, no hostiles. Possible ambush—advance cautiously."
Eye contact with Kim Daram.
Clunk—
Door opened; shield-bearing soldiers led.
"Clear!"
Past their wall, onto snowfield.
Low hills.
Fresh snow blanketed, but shattered howitzer wrecks poked through.
Big guns on New Seoul, but counterfire with artillery radar wiped them.
Frozen limbs thrusting from snow—corpses unsalvageable, hit hard.
"I'll search. You watch perimeter, sunbae."
Junior took the grunt work.
Or merit ambition.
Patrolled lightly with nameless soldier.
Soon, caught eye.
Beast prints.
"...These are huge."
Soldier muttered, awed.
Huge.
Bigger than adult head.
No cat.
Way beyond mutated cat size.
Maybe tiger.
The never-sighted Siberian tiger mutation.