An Extremely Dangerous Item

Several days had passed since the Dongsomun Gate incident. All those hours spent hunting magic beasts inside the gate and carving up Aoki again and again had finally borne fruit. My Ganggi had ranked up from E-class to D-class, and Mana Detection—which I had been using constantly in minor situations—had also risen by one rank ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to C-class.

D-class Ganggi. The ability to infuse weapons with mana, making them tougher and sharper. At this rank, my blade could now withstand ordinary pistol rounds without shattering. Naturally, it was still nowhere near capable of blocking rifle bullets or mana-charged rounds, but simply enduring the impact of a pistol shot was already a massive advantage.

I had gained a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠few other things as well. The first was Aoki’s sword. Or rather, his bayonet. A pistol sword, perhaps? Whatever it was, the object consisted of a strange detachable blade fitted to a handgun.

This is the very definition of buy-one-get-one-free.

When I detached the pistol and examined the blade separately, I could tell it was made of genuine high-grade steel. On top of that, the mana flowing from it marked it as an artifact with some kind of enchantment.

Judging from the way Aoki moved, it probably grants a speed-enhancing effect.

The reason a non-awakened like Aoki had been able to massacre active hunters was not only his swordsmanship but also the assistance of this blade. I gripped the tang—the part of the blade that fits into the hilt—and lifted it. Yet I felt no particular change in my body.

Hm? Why isn’t anything happening?

Was there some activation condition? I swung the tang around, shouted random battle cries, and ran my finger along the edge, trying to figure out how the speed effect worked. Then—

“Ow! Shit!”

I accidentally nicked the tip of my finger, and the effect hit me instantly. The blade absorbed blood and used it to heighten the speed of whoever held the hilt.

So that’s how it works.

Come to think of it, when Aoki had slaughtered the Korean hunters, the blade had already been soaked in blood. Only after creating a victim through a surprise attack could a non-awakened display movements too fast for normal people to match.

What a terrifying object.

I stared at the blade, which now seemed to radiate an eerie, almost demonic aura. To think someone had modified a military pistol by attaching something like this… I swung it a couple more times, then nodded.

Still, if I just attach a proper hilt, it’ll be perfectly usable.

Using a dead man’s weapon felt a little distasteful, but the item itself had done nothing wrong. In the twenty-first century, equipment from hunters who died during raids frequently circulated on the market. There was no reason to feel ashamed. Besides, although I had been carrying the academy’s stainless-steel training sword for the past few days, school rules strictly prohibited taking practice blades off campus. Having a dedicated sword of my own was therefore more than welcome.

As for the pistol…

It was the Japanese army’s standard-issue sidearm, with “Type 14 Nambu” engraved on the surface. Hmm. Should I give it to Song Byeong-o since he specialized in marksmanship? No. It was a military pistol, not a civilian one. If it were discovered, it could cause serious trouble. Better to keep it for my own self-defense.

That said, I wasn’t a firearms expert, but I remembered this particular Japanese army pistol had a notorious reputation for misfires. And since there were no bullets anyway…

I’ll just stash it for now.

I hid it away in a corner of my dorm room. Next was Aoki’s glove. It looked like an ordinary military leather glove, but when I examined it with mana perception, I could see a mana pattern engraved inside. It was clearly another artifact with some kind of effect. Given how Renka had fainted, it probably delivered a stun effect to anyone it struck.

I’ll test this later.

I slipped the glove into the inner pocket of my school uniform. It was a shame that I had only managed to secure the right one—Aoki’s left hand had already been severed by the time I dealt with him—but since slaps were usually delivered with the right hand anyway, it wasn’t a total loss.

Still, about that bastard Aoki…

I kept turning over the final words he had spoken and the various circumstances surrounding the incident. He had mentioned some “grand plan.” Was there something larger behind him? That part bothered me. If the murder of the Korean hunters hadn’t been his solo act but something ordered by a superior…

First, I know Aoki was acting on orders from the Oriental Development Company.

I opened my notebook, wrote “Aoki” on a blank page, drew a line beneath it, and wrote “Oriental Development Company.” Aoki had come to Gyeongseong at the request of a man named Kimitsu from that company and carried out the killings.

And he was also Renka’s fiancé.

I drew another line under “Aoki” and wrote “Shimazu Clan.” Being Renka’s fiancé meant he had some connection to the Shimazu family.

Hmm…

I stared at the relationship chart and drew a line between “Oriental Development Company” and “Shimazu Clan,” adding a question mark above it. Was there a connection between those two as well?

But I shook my head.

This is getting too speculative.

There was probably some relationship. It would be stranger if there weren’t any ties between the Shimazu Guild—one of the most influential hunter organizations in Joseon—and the state-run company that oversaw all gates in the colony. But the idea that the two had conspired to wipe out Korean hunters? That was far too wild a delusion. It had most likely been a private arrangement between Aoki and that Kimitsu fellow.

Even Renka herself had seemed unaware of her fiancé’s actions until a few days ago. The most suspicious party right now was the Oriental Development Company.

The reason for that suspicion lay in my hand.

I pulled the red stone from my pocket. After the previous incident, the mana circuits engraved on it had been completely erased. It was essentially formatted, like a hard drive. But this thing was genuinely dangerous. If technology to artificially open gates using these stones had already been developed, it meant gates were being created by human hands somewhere in the world even now.

People of this era wouldn’t know it, but…

If gates were opened recklessly, the planet’s mana density could skyrocket just like in the twenty-first century, triggering a Catastrophe—a great disaster. No matter what else happened, that had to be prevented. In the twenty-first century, humanity had only overcome the Catastrophe after paying an enormous price in lives. The current level of civilization would never survive it. True human extinction could follow.

The real question was whether this was already common technology or something only the Oriental Development Company possessed.

Kimitsu.

He would know. But according to reports, Director Kimitsu had immediately driven to Incheon Harbor, boarded a warship, and fled to the Japanese mainland. There was nothing I could do about him right now.

I let out a long sigh and pushed the complicated thoughts from my mind. Something certainly seemed to be happening, but there was nothing I could do about it at the moment. Perhaps it was all just my own needless worry.

Besides, I had a far more immediate problem to deal with.

It was time for the general education class on otherworldly biology. Professor Nakamori Taro, who taught the subject, pointed at the instructional chart with his pointer and asked the question. The creature depicted on the chart resembled a centipede.

I have no idea, damn it.

I knew its characteristics, attack patterns, and how to kill it, but I didn’t know its name. At least, not the name used in this era. The ranking system was also different from the one I was familiar with, so I couldn’t easily give an answer.

Professor Nakamori clicked his tongue and looked around at the students.

“Anyone else who can answer?”

“Here!”

Yang Bok-ja shot her hand into the air and shouted. Professor Nakamori adjusted his glasses as he looked at her.

“Ah… Cadet Ryo Fukushi?”

“Please call me Tomiko!”

Even with the professors, she stubbornly insisted on her Japanese name, Tomiko. What a bold girl.

“All right, all right. Cadet Tomiko, what is the name of this magic beast?”

“Its name is Nisoku Mukade, small-sized, mid-tier rank. As an arthropod, it runs extremely fast using two long legs!”

“Excellent! Well done, Cadet Ryo!”

Professor Nakamori looked very pleased with Yang Bok-ja’s diligent answer and continued.

“That will be all for today’s lecture. As previously announced, tomorrow’s class will be an examination on otherworldly plant species, so please proceed to the campus botanical garden instead of this classroom.”

“Yes!”

The students replied in unison. As Professor Nakamori was leaving the classroom, he turned toward me.

“And Cadet Shirabayashi, you need to work harder! You miss class so often that you don’t even know basic information like this!”

He scolded me before departing.

Damn it…

What was the point of theory classes? They were important. I had to complete the theoretical courses and earn proper credits if I wanted to advance grades on schedule and graduate within the expected three years. Only then could I receive my diploma in February 1942. With the war breaking out in December 1941, the timing was already tight. If I failed to earn enough credits and graduation was delayed, I would end up attending fourth or even fifth year. While smuggling myself out might still be possible in the very early stages of the war, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the longer it dragged on, the harder it would become. If the war intensified, I might not even manage to obtain a diploma at all.

Therefore, graduating on time was crucial if I wanted to reach America. The problem was that I was far too ignorant when it came to theory. On top of that, I had missed many classes due to various incidents since enrollment. The worst offenders were theoretical subjects like otherworldly biology.

I don’t know any of this.

I had to memorize the names and ranks of hundreds—thousands—of magic beasts in Japanese. Some people might think it’s no big deal, but I’d like to ask them this: Do you know what Fushigidane, Hitokage, Zenigame, Koiking, and Kabigon are? They are the Japanese names for the Pokémon everyone knows as Bulbasaur, Charmander, Squirtle, Magikarp, and Snorlax. Imagine having to re-memorize the names and techniques of hundreds of monsters you already know in Korean, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but this time in Japanese. That was exactly how I felt.

Damn it. Studying memorization subjects at my age…

“Keeping up with the lessons is rather difficult.”

The next morning, on the way to yet another otherworldly biology class, Lee Yuha walked beside me and let out a soft sigh. She could listen to and speak Japanese well enough, but the class contained many difficult technical terms, so she struggled to fully understand the content.

“And just what are ‘Nisoku Mukade’ and ‘Yoromimizu’? My grandfather has always called them two-headed centipedes and helmeted dragons!”

So she knew the beasts by different names too.

In the twenty-first century, where English had become the global standard, I had known the monsters by their English names. Lee Yuha knew them by their Korean names. It seemed she faced a similar problem to mine. But her grandfather? He knew the names of magic beasts?

I asked her, “Was your grandfather a hunter as well?”

“Ah…”

Just as Lee Yuha was about to answer, a black-haired female student appeared ahead of us—Renka. She noticed me too and greeted me, though she seemed somewhat awkward.

“Ah… Shirabayashi?”

“Hey, Renka.”

She asked me, “Are you on your way to class?”

“Yeah. You too?”

“I am. …Then I’ll be going on ahead.”

Renka gave a small nod to both me and Lee Yuha beside me, then turned and walked away. We continued toward the otherworldly botanical garden, but instead of talking with Lee Yuha, I silently thought about Renka.

She seems different from before.

Originally she had clung to me persistently, yet ever since the Dongsomun Gate incident a few days ago, she appeared to be avoiding me. Was it because I had killed her fiancé? No, that probably wasn’t it. She had watched her fiancé get dismembered and burned alive with a satisfied smile before sleeping like a baby. Although that had frightened me, I had thought we now shared a kind of complicity. Yet here she was avoiding me again, and I couldn’t fathom why.

Lost in thought, I soon arrived at the isolated corner of the school grounds where today’s class would be held. Although I had been enrolled for over a week, this remote part of campus was my first visit.

That must be the otherworldly botanical garden… and this is the ‘practical magic beast stable.’

As I walked toward the garden, I passed the stables along the path. I had seen them marked on the school map but had never visited. I had always been curious.

But is it really okay for the school to keep something this dangerous on campus?

Most of the magic beasts inside the iron cages were small to medium low-tier creatures, but if any of them ever escaped, it would be disastrous. After passing the stables, we reached the otherworldly botanical garden where today’s class would take place. It was a glass-walled greenhouse located on one side of the grounds. From the outside it looked like an ordinary botanical garden, and even when you looked inside, it still appeared to be one. However, it housed not normal plants but otherworldly flora.

Understanding the vegetation inside a gate was important for conquering it, and otherworldly plants also held high research value, so it was a perfectly reasonable facility for the academy to maintain.

“Yes!”

When we reached the outdoor lecture area in front of the botanical garden and class began, Professor Nakamori had the students put on gas masks. The interior was full of toxic atmosphere, so we had to wear them to enter.

I have poison resistance, so…

I didn’t put one on and simply watched the others. Lee Yuha wore hers, but her long daenggi braid stuck out comically from under the hood. Noticing that I alone had gone without, Professor Nakamori asked,

“Hmm? Cadet Shirabayashi, aren’t you going to wear one?”

“Ah, no. I have poison resistance, so…”

“Ah, I see! You must be the student Professor Kurobe mentioned. Then you may enter as you are.”

Inside the otherworldly botanical garden, it looked like an ordinary greenhouse at first glance. But upon closer inspection, it was filled with bizarre plants whose shapes could never exist on Earth. Why did someone training to become a hunter need to study plants? In the twenty-first century, when a gate first opened, the advance team would investigate the basic vegetation inside to estimate the ecosystem and what kinds of magic beasts might inhabit it. Having rolled through many gates myself, I understood the importance of identifying plant species. The problem, once again, was that I didn’t know their names.

“Huff… huff… Shirabayashi! Still not done?”

“Yeah.”

“Then we’ll head out first!”

My squad members left the greenhouse ahead of me. By the time I noticed, only a few people remained inside, yet I continued wandering around for a long time.

This one looks like it might be kagebana… or was it kagekusa? Damn it, the names are killing me… Was kusa the one over there?

To double-check the confusing parts, I turned and walked quickly in another direction. As I rounded a corner—

“Kyaa!”

I collided with a female student. My gaze fell on the girl who had fallen. White…!

Since she had tumbled to the floor, I quickly approached and offered my hand in apology.

“Ah, sorry…”

“…!”

But the unknown female student simply stared up at me (though her eyes were hidden by the gas mask), refused my hand, stood up silently, and hurried out of the greenhouse.

Damn it… I should have worn a gas mask too.

I hadn’t seen her face and didn’t know who she was, but she had seen mine. What if strange rumors started circulating among the female students? Then I noticed something on the floor where she had fallen.

A handkerchief?

It was a neatly folded white handkerchief. She must have dropped it when she fell. When I picked it up, I noticed a black pattern faintly visible on the folded edge.

Maybe her name is written on it.

I unfolded the handkerchief—and froze.

What the hell is this?

Embroidered on the handkerchief was a symbol that no Korean could fail to recognize. It was something everyone knew—yet in this era, it was strictly forbidden. Against the white background, red and blue swirled together to form a circle. In the four corners, long and short black bars were arranged in overlapping patterns.

My hands began to tremble violently. Cold sweat trickled down my forehead.

Why the hell is someone carrying something this dangerous around school?

Who are you?