False Reserves
“Operation start.”
“Reserves?”
“That’s right. You’re my team… nominally held in reserve while we hunt the regional boss.”
This was the best consideration I could offer these children. If they wanted to fight, I gave them the title of reserves. If they disliked it, I still gave them reassurance. This ambiguous restraint blocked any future claim that “you weren’t there.”
First, I informed their supervisor, Kim Yuseong, of the arrangement.
“That’s… a relief. They’re still weak, after all. You know how it is—naturally awakened Awakened are fragile.”
She was correct. Naturally awakened individuals remained weak. Even game-based Awakened could not simply join a raid just because they had levels. Leveling alone did not qualify anyone; one also needed proper equipment, skill familiarity, and stat control beyond that of a complete novice.
“I’m not sure they’ll accept it, though.”
“Want me to come along?”
“No, it’s fine.”
I felt uneasy. To put it bluntly, those children were unstable. A few of them had eyes that reminded me of the kids back in high school who joined dojos just to learn how to hurt people. ‘No surprise some of them ended up in juvenile detention.’ I couldn’t recall every detail, but I remembered one who got drunk and assaulted someone. So I decided on a minimal precaution.
“The operation is in three days. Tell them it’s in four.”
“Huh? Then the reserves…”
“The real reserves are separate—game-origin Awakened already waiting. Some are coming from the mainland. People who’ve fought monsters of equal or greater caliber.”
Though their experience was only a month old, a month of life-or-death combat sharpened instincts and raised survival rates. At the very least, they could control their enhanced specs to a reasonable degree.
“Wouldn’t it be better to bring overwhelming firepower from the start…?”
“No. We have to keep the numbers small. Even if we tried to crush it with raw power, that thing is a defensive type. And if I can’t perfectly regulate my own strength, people will only get hurt—crippled, or worse. We need to take the harder path that avoids losses rather than the easier one that risks them. This isn’t just about lives; it’s a strategic issue.”
Too many Awakened had already died before they could truly bloom. Moreover, the concepts of spirit medicines and inner cores did not belong to humans alone, so extra caution was required.
“We’re in a situation where we have to craft even our own catalysts. Right now we’re raiding with gear you could buy at any ordinary shop. Injuries don’t heal just because HP numbers refill. Critical wounds are far worse—they can cripple or kill. We’re basically novices piloting overpowered characters. We weren’t sword masters or archmages; we were just ordinary people who used to play a game.”
“…”
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
Kim Yuseong bore no responsibility here. If anything, the fault lay with me for saying such things in this situation.
“Still, Jeju is lucky. We have time to train in relative peace before the monsters fully settle in. There will be plenty of opportunities after this.”
We had safe ground. More precisely, the monsters had not yet taken root here. That alone gave the island immense value. Land prices would skyrocket. But before that happened, the government would impose control. Regardless of how they used it, my only real option was to settle in Seoul, where the best doctors were.
“Then I’ll leave persuading the children to you. We need to handle this quietly. This measure is separate from the ‘fake’ reserves—the kids already know something is happening at Baengnokdam.”
“Leave it to me.”
I entrusted the matter to Kim Yuseong. There was little to worry about. This was a military operation; no one would disobey. Anyone who did would have to be either extraordinarily foolish or blinded by something else.
“Including me, three people. That’s sufficient.”
It made sense. Proper force distribution meant solving problems with the minimum necessary strength.
「Good. A priest and a strong berserker. He wields a warhammer forged from the same tungsten alloy as your weapon. We have high expectations for him, which is why we arranged it this way.」
Based on my track record, the conclusion was that I could handle the Scaly-foot Gastropod. The Minister of National Defense spoke casually now, unlike during the meeting. Given his age and position, it felt natural rather than offensive.
“The berserker part is easy to understand. What about the priest…?”
「A human skilled in buffs rather than healing. We judged that buffs would be more necessary in this case.」
“A wise choice.”
I offered the minister appropriate praise. When someone made a decent decision, it was worth stamping my approval and maintaining the relationship.
「Then I’ll send the remaining information by fax. Is there anything else you’d like to ask?」
Success. The minister’s favorable tone meant I no longer had to be the one asking first. Maintaining a good relationship with me would benefit his position as well.
“…This is separate from the operation, but if a fire-attribute regional boss appears, I would appreciate it if you could call me. I’ll head over immediately.”
「Ah, reliable as always.」
After a bit more grumbling and small talk, the call ended. At least the military now knew I was looking for fire-attribute monsters. That alone made the conversation worthwhile.
“That’s that, and this is this.”
Just because the call was over didn’t mean my day’s work was finished. I dipped a brush in blue catalyst-infused ink and began inscribing characters onto talisman paper that had been fed my qi. The catalyst itself was nothing more than flowers nourished by my qi, finely ground and mixed into the ink. That was everything—and also the beginning.
I had searched for anything useful and discovered plants and minerals that had absorbed qi. Flowers, in particular, could be harvested quickly, and it had taken me a week to finally figure out how to utilize them. Until then, I had been little better than a primitive charging in with bare fists.
“Good thing I learned calligraphy. Otherwise these would’ve looked like earthworms.”
In that sense, calligraphers were growing increasingly popular these days. Self-made talismans were of the highest quality, but form mattered just as much, so calligraphers worked as “ghostwriters” producing talismans. Of course, those were only mass-produced items without real power. Meanwhile, artisans were creating things reminiscent of West server artifacts.
“This should be more than enough.”
I muttered while looking at the tall stacks of talismans and catalysts on my desk—some for the gastropod, some to distribute among Jeju’s residents, and some prepared for unexpected situations. Most would probably be used against that local overlord. In the West they called it a regional boss; in the East, a local guardian. Though we had settled on the term Gwerieoknanshin for particularly powerful monsters, this distinction was more accurate. The term Gwerieoknanshin was reserved for monsters capable of destroying an entire nation on their own.
I picked up one talisman and placed it in the hands of Dohwa, who was sleeping peacefully on the bed.
“Have a good dream, Dohwa.”
***
One day later. Two days before the operation.
The simple self-introductions of those who had arrived in Jeju began.
“I’m Jang Bora. West server, priest. My healing is lacking, but I’m confident in my support abilities.”
“Go Gamchan. Same, West server. Berserker. I used to work in construction, so I’m confident with a hammer.”
“Ha Dowol. East server, shaman. I’ve studied swordsmanship, so I can at least take care of myself in a fight.”
The introductions ended. I looked at the two people before me: a man with a calm demeanor befitting a priest, and another whose solid physique suited a berserker.
“The operation itself is simple.”
One: plant catalyst-infused mines eight hundred meters underground beneath Baengnokdam and detonate them.
Two: engage the rising gastropod.
Three: Ha Dowol erodes part of the gastropod’s shell; Go Gamchan, empowered by buffs, destroys that section. After that, normal combat ensues.
“Simple enough. But I have one question.”
Jang Bora raised his hand. Feedback on the operation was welcome.
“Go ahead.”
“First, about that bomb—are we certain the gastropod will come up?”
Exactly as expected. If the creature hid downward instead of rising, things would become far more troublesome.
“I’ll go in with the bomb. I’ll detonate it and attack from below.”
“…Inside the lava? Directly?”
“Yes, directly. We originally observed the creature inside the lava. The key is to conceal the catalyst reaction in the bomb until the very last moment and move quickly. I can perform that role.”
With strong control came strong perception. Jang Bora stared at me with an expression that was half disbelief, half astonishment. Understandable, given that someone was claiming they would dive into lava in a human body—and do so stealthily.
“Well, you certainly make difficult things sound easy. You’re not pushing yourself too hard, are you?”
“Don’t worry. I’m not.”
Go Gamchan had voiced concern, but I shut it down.
“Understood. But… are we really doing this with just the three of us?”
Jang Bora asked. Even though the operation was about to begin, the other Awakened at the edge of Baengnokdam were suppressing their presence as much as possible. Government personnel were observing and analyzing from helicopters overhead, but they were the exception.
“Who in their right mind would throw themselves at a giant monster? The people who do that are either desperate or unwilling to see something horrible happen again. For them, this is just a field trip.”
“Well… I suppose so. I’ll trust you, as the East server’s finisher.”
Go Gamchan spoke as if there were no issue. His answer came so readily that it almost sounded like he had some other motive—perhaps hoping for a larger share of the reward since there were only three of them.
“……As long as the compensation is fine, I have no complaints.”
In contrast, Jang Bora openly admitted his concern was money. Both agreed.
Two days later.
“Then, at 12:04 a.m., we will commence the operation.”
The operation began.