Beneath the Shrine
“Father, I’m off.”
Having risen early and dressed in my uniform, I was studying my reflection when Ham Seoju’s voice drifted in from outside the room, followed by the sound of the front gate opening and closing.
I stepped out onto the wooden veranda, sat down to tie my shoes, and called out to her where she stood in the yard. “Where’s your father gone?”
“Where do you think? Off to work, of course.”
“Work?”
There was a reason I found it odd to see Ham Won-sam heading out to work only days after I had paid him a generous sum for the red stone. That amount would have covered several months’ wages for an ordinary salaried worker. I pressed her. “He’s already going back to work? What about the money?”
Ham Seoju looked at me as though I were speaking nonsense. “Money? What money are you talking about all of a sudden? Do you think money just falls from the sky if you don’t work…?”
“Huh…?”
Had Ham Won-sam not told his daughter about the money I gave him? Surely he hadn’t gambled it away already? I stood up from the veranda. “Well… all right. I’m heading to school, then.”
“…? Have a good day.”
Once outside the boarding house gate, I spotted Ham Won-sam some distance ahead, a towel wrapped around his head as he trudged down the hill toward the rickshaw company. I caught up to him. “Off to work?”
“Young master? Well, a man’s got to work if he wants to earn money…”
Ham Won-sam stopped and turned to look at me. I asked again, “What about the money I gave you the other day? You could take a few days off, buy Seoju some new clothes. You haven’t already spent it all, have you?”
“Ah, well, about that…” Ham Won-sam looked uncomfortable. “You know as well as I do, young master, that wasn’t money I earned honestly. I got scared to spend it all of a sudden…”
“I see.”
It made sense. The money had come from selling stolen goods, after all. For a man like Ham Won-sam, who had already served time for theft in the past, the fear would be even greater. He continued, “If I suddenly started throwing money around, the police would get suspicious. They’d wonder where a man like me suddenly got hold of such a large sum.”
Because of his criminal record, he was still under police surveillance. Even with money in hand, he was afraid to spend it. I said, “If anyone asks, just tell them I gave it to you. Say I’m from a wealthy family and like to throw money around. The police will believe that.”
“Even so, I’m not sure…”
“It’ll be fine. I’ll go on ahead, then.”
I started to walk away, then stopped. “Oh, right.” I turned back. Something had occurred to me while we were talking about the money. I glanced around, then pulled an object from my uniform pocket and showed it to him. Ham Won-sam’s eyes widened.
“That’s…”
“I have a question.”
What I held was the red stone—an otherworldly mineral capable of artificially generating gates, or rather, demon gates. In the right hands, it could bring immense benefit to humanity. In the wrong hands, it could trigger catastrophe. In the twenty-first century, the reckless creation of gates by corporations and guilds had led to the great disaster known as the Catastrophe, which humanity had only barely survived. And now that same technology existed in this era, where even basic mana engineering was still in its infancy? If such a disaster struck now, humanity would almost certainly be wiped out.
Of course, it won’t happen right away.
Since awakening in this era, I had searched through textbooks and magazines like Hunter Chosun, but there was no sign that the technology for opening demon gates with red stones was known yet. It was a secret held solely by the Oriental Development Company. While it was fortunate that I didn’t need to worry about the Catastrophe for the moment, the fact that someone possessed the knowledge was deeply unsettling—especially since that someone was the Oriental Development Company, a state-backed Japanese enterprise. How had they obtained technology that would be considered over-technology even by modern standards?
The question lingered, but Aoki had been thrown into the fire, and the head of the company’s Demon Gate Development Department, Kimitsu, had been sent back to Japan. There was no way for me to find out more. Still, Ham Won-sam, the one who had stolen the stone, might have seen or heard something—how it had been stored, who had been managing it.
I asked him, “When you took this, did you notice anything suspicious?”
“Suspicious?”
“The engineer—or technician—who was working with it. Did you see anyone like that?”
“Oh, yes. I did.” Ham Won-sam frowned as he recalled the scene. “He wasn’t a hunter or a trapper. He was a man in a suit and glasses, dressed like a modern boy, carrying a large bag. Since I went in as a porter, I saw everything clearly.”
“A man in a suit.”
“Right. He was arguing with some important-looking fellow, then he opened the safe and started fiddling with the stones, attaching machines to them.”
So there had been a separate technician after all. I pressed further. “You didn’t overhear anything they said?”
“Do I look like I speak Japanese? I just figured they were talking about something complicated.”
“Hmm.”
In the end, I gained nothing useful. Even if I had a description of the technician, men in suits and glasses were a dime a dozen in Gyeongseong. And the important conversation had been in Japanese, which Ham Won-sam couldn’t understand. Besides, even if he had overheard something, the technician had likely been sent to Japan along with Kimitsu.
Nothing I can do about it.
There was nothing more I could accomplish anyway, and a catastrophe wasn’t about to strike immediately. Rather than worrying about that now, I should focus on my schoolwork. I said goodbye to Ham Won-sam and headed for the academy.
『Next… Sixth Squad! Forward!』
In the circular training arena used for squad tactics practice, I turned to my squad members. 『Everyone ready? You all know your positions?』
『Yes!』
The words were unnecessary. Despite the grueling class, everyone had performed well in their assigned roles. Our squad had the best results so far. Professor Kitamura, standing on the command platform, blew his whistle and pressed a button. Just like the previous session, magic beasts were released into the arena.
This time, however, I was startled by what appeared.
These aren’t student-level beasts.
They were creatures known in the twenty-first century as Claw Wolves—ferocious beasts with sharp fangs like those of a canine and wolverine-like foreclaws. By this era’s standards, they were at least mid-to-high rank. And there were two of them?
—Grrr……
The two wolves paused, eyes gleaming as they assessed the situation. Then one charged straight toward me, the squad member at the front. Its approach was intimidating. Of course, I wasn’t an ordinary student. I easily dodged its claws and severed its head. But—
『Ugh!』
Murasaki, who had been standing beside me, was struck by the second wolf and sent flying several meters, incapacitated. A scream followed.
『Kyaa!』
It was Aikawa. The remaining Claw Wolf lunged toward her with terrifying speed. Had it identified her as the easiest target because she wasn’t a combatant but a healer? Lee Yuha released frost and Song Byeong-o fired mana bullets, but neither had enough force to stop the charging beast.
Damn it.
I pressed my thumb against my blade, drawing a thin line of blood. I disliked using this ability—it always left me with an unpleasant feeling—so I avoided it whenever possible. But the situation was urgent. Without waiting to feel the effect activate, I sprinted forward. Just before the beast’s claws reached Aikawa, I severed its foreleg and then its head in one fluid motion.
Thud! The magic beast collapsed. Professor Kitamura blew his whistle and shouted, 『Training complete!』
『Ughhh……』
Aikawa, drenched in the beast’s bodily fluids from the severed neck, sank to the ground and whimpered. Yang Bok-ja hurried over and helped her up. 『You need to be more careful!』
『Th-thank you, Tomiko……』
『Honestly, that was almost your two hundred and sixteenth time.』
『Two hundred and sixteenth…?』
Aikawa trembled as she repeated the number. Yang Bok-ja lowered her voice. 『Hehe, you don’t know, do you? …I heard from the seniors. There have been two hundred and fifteen deaths so far.』
『Wh-what…?』
『The number of students who have died at this academy since 1922.』
『Eek……!』
I scolded her. 『Hey, stop scaring her. She’s already terrified.』
『But it’s true!』
I shook my head. Thanks to my intervention, Aikawa was unharmed this time, but she could easily have been seriously injured—or worse. Even if the training was meant to simulate real combat, this was far too dangerous.
Of course, students died or were injured all the time at hunter academies in the twenty-first century too……
Even so, the mortality rate here seemed excessively high. Twenty students a year, on average. I glanced at Professor Kitamura on the platform—a one-legged instructor of squad tactics. Could he have…? Had he deliberately released dangerous beasts out of some malicious intent?
But I dismissed the thought. According to his own proud stories during class, he had been a hunter-type officer who lost his leg during the Manchurian Incident and retired. He had only joined the academy as a professor a couple of years ago. The academy’s long-standing danger and high death rate predated his arrival by over a decade, and neither I nor any of my squad members had any issues with him.
In fact, it wasn’t just our squad. Other squads also faced threatening beasts during their training sessions.
Well, it’s just the nature of the times.
This was, after all, the era of Japanese imperial rule. The same disregard for human life that allowed live blades in swordsmanship classes was simply part of a society steeped in indifference to safety.
I didn’t choose this hunter academy, but I’ll have to endure it with sheer grit……
After finishing morning classes, I was on my way when—
『Ah, Shirabayashi-san……』
『Oh. Renka.』
I ran into Renka. I gave a perfunctory greeting and tried to pass by, but she seemed to have something to say, her lips moving hesitantly. Uncharacteristically, she avoided my gaze and fidgeted. She had been avoiding me for the past few days, and now this was even more puzzling.
『Got something to say?』
『……Actually, there is something I’d like to ask……』
Her voice trailed off. At that moment, my attention was caught by a figure beyond her shoulder—a man in a suit emerging from the main academy building. He wasn’t a student or a professor. He was clearly an outsider.
『……?』
As I watched, he walked with his hat pulled low, glancing around furtively. His destination was none other than the academy shrine.
The shrine?
The shrine on campus was small, consisting of nothing more than a single worship hall. There were larger shrines elsewhere in Gyeongseong, including the Chosun Shrine on Namsan. No outsider would come all the way here just to pay respects.
Wait.
A man wearing a white Panama hat and a light blue striped suit, with glasses. In his hand was a bag that looked quite heavy.
The technician Ham Won-sam mentioned…?
I suddenly recalled what Ham Won-sam had said that morning. The man’s appearance matched the description of the Oriental Development Company technician. Of course, I couldn’t jump to conclusions just because he was a well-dressed man in a suit and glasses—plenty of people in this era fit that description. But his suspicious behavior made me lean toward the possibility that he was the technician.
If he really is that “technician”……
I gripped the red stone in my uniform pocket. If he was the technician, he would know the technology embedded in this stone—and what was connected to it. I spoke quietly to Renka. 『Come with me for a moment?』
『Huh? ……Well, all right.』
We climbed the steps to the shrine. But when we reached it, the man was nowhere to be seen.
Where did he go?
The shrine was tiny, with no main hall and no caretaker—just a small worship hall. There was nowhere to hide.
……No, that’s not true.
There was one place. A few steps away from the worship hall stood a small wooden shed labeled “Ritual Equipment Storage.” It was the same storage shed where I had “persuaded” Hong Okrye the other day. I approached it cautiously. Renka, following behind, spoke in a flustered voice.
『Shirabayashi-san……? Th-that place is—』
『Shh. Quiet.』
I pressed my ear to the door. No sound or presence could be felt.
……Is he not here?
The shed was only about two pyeong in size. If someone were inside, even a faint presence should be detectable. The complete absence of any sign meant one of two things: either he wasn’t there, or he was skilled enough to completely conceal his presence. Caution never hurt. I spoke quietly to Renka. 『Let’s go in together.』
『Sh-Shirabayashi-san?』
I flung the door open and stepped inside. But the shed was empty.
『……He’s not here?』
Only ritual items stacked on the floor and shelves. I was confused. If he wasn’t here, there was nowhere else he could have gone.
Anyway, he couldn’t have gone far.
Even if he wasn’t in the shed, a person couldn’t vanish in an instant. He had to be nearby.
I’ll catch him and tie him up for questioning.
I grabbed a rope hanging on one wall. Then—
『W-wait…… Shirabayashi-san?』
Renka suddenly looked shocked.
『Huh? What?』
『This is…… i-indecent!』
『……?』
I had no idea why she was reacting that way, but Renka’s ears turned bright red as she protested that she couldn’t indulge this kind of hobby and demanded to know what I thought of her. She backed toward the wall—
『Gyaaak!』
The wooden wall she touched rotated like a revolving door, sending her tumbling backward. I lunged forward. 『Renka!』
『Sh-Shirabayashi-san!』
『Hold on tight!』
I pulled her up. Renka, who had nearly fallen into the darkness, sat on the shed floor, clutching her chest and breathing heavily.
『Wh-what is this……?』
I was just as bewildered. Beyond the rotating wall was a hidden space containing a spiral staircase descending into pitch blackness. I asked Renka, 『I’m not familiar with Japanese shrines since I’m Korean, but do they usually have underground spaces like this?』
『……No.』
Of course not. No matter how I looked at it, a religious facility—especially a tiny shrine on school grounds—shouldn’t have a secret passage. It was clearly suspicious, and the man who had disappeared must have gone down there.
Should I follow him?
My suspicion that he was the technician had almost become certainty. If I didn’t confront him now, I might not get another chance. But it was dangerous. Dealing with one man was one thing, but I had no idea what might be down there. What if there were traps? Or armed guards?
『……Shirabayashi-san.』
While I was hesitating, Renka called out to me. 『You’re following someone, aren’t you?』
She seemed to have finally caught on. Of course she had—I hadn’t told her anything. I couldn’t explain the red stone or future technology anyway. I nodded silently. Renka’s expression grew more serious than before.
『In that case, I’ll go with you.』
『……What?』
What was she planning? Still, having her along would significantly reduce the burden. Few people would dare lay a hand on her, given her abilities and social status.
『All right.』
『I’ll take the lead.』
Fwoosh! Renka drew her sword and ignited the blade with flame. Relying on its light, we descended the spiral staircase into the depths.
After a moment, she spoke. 『Shirabayashi-san, isn’t it…… getting hot?』
『Hmm.』
Indeed, the deeper we went, the warmer it became. It wasn’t just from Renka’s flames. Was it simply geothermal heat? Or was there something down there?
How far had we descended? The staircase finally ended, and we reached a floor. Before us stood a massive iron door.
『It looks like an air-raid shelter.』
It did. The large, crude circular iron door resembled those found in air-raid shelters. As I examined it, I noticed a chain and a large padlock—both currently unlocked. I swallowed hard.
『I’ll open it.』
『Be careful.』
Renka stepped aside. I carefully pushed the heavy door open. A blast of hot air rushed through the gap, startling Renka.
『Ugh……?』
No wonder—the heat was intense. My own suspicions deepened. Was there a power plant inside? I peered through the narrow opening.
『This is……』
Beyond was a vast underground space, like an air-raid shelter. But as I looked around, I noticed something that didn’t belong—not just in this space, but in this entire era.
Filling the enormous room were light bulbs—no, vacuum tubes.
Vacuum tubes?
Hundreds, thousands of them. Wires connected them in a chaotic tangle. All of it combined into a massive machine that hummed and generated intense heat, occupying the entire underground space. The moment I saw it, the word slipped out involuntarily.
“Computer……?”