First Contact (3)

Between Seoul Station and Yongsan Station sat a tiny, single-platform subway station on Line 1. Stepping off at this station and glancing slightly to the east, one would spot an impressively angular red brick building. While the public knew it as the home of Security Division 3 under the National Police Agency's Security Bureau, I knew all too well what name that building would carry in the future.

'The Namyeong-dong Anti-Communist Branch... What a coincidence.' In truth, if we were talking purely about methods, there wasn't much difference between the Anti-Communist Branch and me. We were alike in how we would capture and torture countless completely unrelated people just to hunt down communist reds. Well, since there probably wouldn't be anyone who "died of shock the moment the desk was thumped" in this world, I suppose I should consider myself the more vicious of the two.

The information I received from Ham Cheon-ho had been passed down through three degrees of separation from someone inside the National Police Agency. It was at a level where I couldn't help but consider the high probability of distortion, having gone through a connection of a connection of a connection. Even so, there was no reason not to swing by at least once. Conveniently, since the Anti-Communist Branch was located in Yongsan-gu, it wasn't very far from the hotel where I was staying.

And so, on the evening of Saturday, November 15th. Accompanied by Pavel as always, I slowly walked north from Yongsan Station. The reason I didn't head south from Seoul Station was due to a useless exercise in empathy: What would I do if ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I were the spy? To head north meant passing through Seoul Station on a Saturday night, which required bracing oneself to face an immense crowd. Heading straight south, however, led to the Han River. To increase one's chances of survival, even by a fraction, one would have to swim and escape beneath the freezing waters of the Han River. Though, in the end, the only difference would be whether you were recaptured and tortured to death immediately, or if you prolonged your life just a bit longer while shivering to death from hypothermia.

As we passed through the alleyway between Samgakji Station and the closed War Memorial of Korea, we were stopped for a random questioning by plainclothes police officers patrolling the area. Pavel looked slightly tense, but there was no need to even pull out our passports; a quick activation of Charm ensured we slipped through without a hitch.

"Hmm, now where could he be...?"

"Should we expand our search radius? Or would you like to contact Ham Cheon-ho?"

"No, he's bound to be around here anyway."

The communist ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠spy sent from the North was undoubtedly limping away, covered in wounds. Water torture and electric shocks would have inflicted irreversible damage on his body; he was a dead man walking even if left entirely alone.

It was about ten minutes later when we finally encountered the wounded mage.

"Ah, there you are."

Talk about the darkest place being under the candlestick—he was tucked inside an alley barely a hundred meters from where I had been questioned by the police. The reason the officers from the Anti-Communist Branch, who surely knew every nook and cranny of these alleys, hadn't found him was because the red mage was using magic to conceal his presence.

"...How did you find this place?"

"Hmm, it doesn't seem like you're using overt magic... Is it the type that isolates the inside from the outside, preventing your presence from leaking out?"

"I asked how you knew to come here, didn't I?"

"My, you're noisy. How else? Don't you know the police are crawling all over the place to catch you? It's impossible not to notice."

There was no reason to give him a straight answer. However, the fact that I had detected his presence—which even most mages wouldn't have noticed—seemed to make him realize I was no ordinary mage.

"My... your Korean is superb. Are you someone sent by the Soviets?"

Judging by his words, however, he still didn't know who I was. Perhaps the Soviet Union hadn't even informed its satellite states of Yerina Bronska's existence. Thinking this could be useful, I briefly switched to Russian.

"Да, как видишь! (Yes, as you can see!)"

At my reply, the man let out a bloody sigh. A pool of blood, source unknown, had gathered on the ground. Honestly, it would probably be easier to find where he wasn't bleeding rather than where he was.

"I reckon you didn't come to save me... You must have come to finish me off before I blab any further."

"...Finish you off?"

"To put an end to me, that is. Is the puppet clique's dialect more familiar to you than our Korean?"

...Well, obviously. Why on earth would I learn the North Korean dialect? In any case, even on the brink of death, this Juche-believing red's magic was far more advanced than I had anticipated. No matter how much the labyrinthine alleys served as natural camouflage, hiding one's presence so perfectly from the investigators of the Anti-Communist Branch was not something just anyone could pull off.

On top of that, he was someone who had already escaped once. Considering the notoriously malicious layout of the Namyeong-dong Anti-Communist Branch, designed to make any escape attempt virtually impossible, his individual capabilities must have been quite outstanding. I clicked my tongue and shook my head slightly.

"What a shame. I have a few things I'm curious about, and I'll need you to answer them."

"...So you really have no intention of letting me live. If it were the General's command, I would gladly obey, but if it is Stalin's command, is it not just a dog's death?"

"Well, you're going to die anyway, so shouldn't there be some loyalty between allies? Let your death serve some meaningful purpose. I have quite a few questions."

I truly had a lot to ask the first red I had encountered in Korea. On a macro level, I wanted information about the barrier directly from an insider; on a micro level, I was curious about the diplomatic relations between the Soviet Union and its satellite states. The latter would have to be asked with extreme caution, considering I was posing as a Soviet figure who supposedly already knew everything, but still. Either way, as an outsider, these were details I couldn't fully know.

Since it would be a disaster if this man suddenly kicked the bucket mid-interrogation, I decided to give the dying wretch a brief treatment.

"Gah...!"

The communist groaned in agony. But really, what did "treatment" even mean? Without actually healing his wounds, keeping his soul forcibly anchored to his body could, in a sense, be called a treatment, couldn't it? A magical artificial heart and oxygen mask procedure were bound to be excruciatingly painful, but that was none of my concern. My only priority was extracting the information.

"Seeing as you somehow managed to escape the Anti-Communist Branch alive, it doesn't look like you have a poison capsule... Well, that's fine."

Although it had ultimately failed, the precedent set by that playboy in Londonderry, Northern Ireland—who had been fully prepared to bite down on a poison capsule—made me hesitate for a brief moment. However, I had been devising a scheme to make him more cooperative from the very moment we met.

Flashed—

Responding to my will, the perception-disrupting magic shrouding the alleyway intensified. Under the full moon, my shadow stretched wide and high, enveloping the surroundings in a hemispherical dome. Passersby outside, including drunkards, remained completely oblivious to me, Pavel, and the red mage.

"How...?"

The mage gasped, his eyes wide with utter bewilderment. I merely offered a thin smile in response. In a normal confrontation, stealing and casting this Juche mage's spell would have been impossible, or at least extremely difficult. Befitting its advanced nature, there wouldn't normally have been a visible opening for me to replicate it. But my opponent was currently dying, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and I possessed the talent to squeeze into that widened crack and replicate his high-level perception-disrupting magic with ease.

'He's practically begging me to copy it. Why on earth would I refuse?'

Maintaining my gentle smile, I urged him to cooperate.

"Now, since I've graciously provided the cover for you to hide, you can relax and focus on answering my questions, right?"

"You... you really leave me no choice..."

This magic seemed like it would be quite useful in the future. While it would be difficult to use against highly capable mages and completely useless against electronic equipment, its high utility was undeniable. Against a beast this heavily wounded, Charm would also work wonders. I lowered my posture, crouching down to corner my panting prey.

"First question. Tell me everything you know about what happened in Pyongyang four days ago."

"...Unless you are from the Party, I cannot speak so freely."

Even with Charm active, his answer was unsatisfying. However, this was different from Delis, who was entirely immune due to her constitution or bloodline; this man was resisting through sheer willpower. Perhaps because he was a spy trained to withstand systematic torture, he was holding out. Good grief. It was my first time seeing someone resist through raw mental strength, which was genuinely surprising. Even so—

'It's not like he can actually reject me.'

Should I set up a miniature Anti-Communist Branch right here? With a soft sigh, I used telekinesis to pull over a discarded metal chair from the side of the road and sat down.

"It's not like your country and the Union are on perfectly smooth terms, and yes, I'm not from the Workers' Party. But you still need to tell me what you spilled to our fascist puppet clique friends so we can prepare a response, don't you think?"

"..."

In truth, my words were based on a half-educated guess. I vaguely knew that the relationship between North Korea and the Soviet Union wasn't perfectly seamless like a single nation, but pointing it out so bluntly was another matter entirely. However, seeing his silence and the contemplative look on his face as he endured the pain, it seemed my guess had hit the mark. I dialed up the intensity of Charm.

"My name is Ga Ye-rin. And yours?"

"...Ri Chol-jin."

Lowering someone's guard with trivial details like their name and origin was a common technique used not just in torture, but in all forms of interrogation. He surely knew this himself, but when combined with Charm, he had no choice but to fall for it even while knowing better.

"Right, Comrade Ri Chol-jin. Do you feel like talking now? What happened in Pyongyang that day?"

The Juche mage, who had been panting heavily against the wall, drew his last breath immediately after answering the final question of our long exchange. It certainly wasn't a peaceful death, but wasn't it still a far better fate than drowning in a bathtub or sink at the Anti-Communist Branch, or being electrocuted in an electric chair?

Rather than having my magical beasts chew up and consume the corpse, I decided to leave it right there. Having a body left behind would put the South Korean police and the Agency for National Security Planning (ANSP) at ease, far more than a complete disappearance would. Furthermore, the discovery of the corpse was essential to feed the delusions of the communist spies embedded deep within those organizations.

On the other hand, there was no need to disperse the magical traces. After all, the only spells I had cast here were Charm and the perception-disrupting magic. My innate magic, Charm, left no traces to begin with, and the latter was merely a direct copy of the dead red's own spell.

'Even if they analyze it later, they'll never find a single clue leading back to me.'

The day after leaving the corpse in the alley, I was able to review the incident once more through Ham Cheon-ho.

"Hmm... So he escaped, but couldn't make it far and was found dead in a nearby alley?"

Feigning complete ignorance, I asked back nonchalantly.

"So, what did that red come to South Korea for anyway?"

"It's fine. I'll be the judge of that."

How dare he try to apply his own judgment. A proxy only needs to move quietly like a puppet suspended on strings. The moment they start thinking for themselves, they leave me no choice but to discard them by the wayside. If that happened, his entire family would be slaughtered, which would be quite sad for them, and I would have to go through the hassle of finding a new front man, which would be rather annoying.

The information he relayed was not much different from what I had heard the previous night while sitting on a cheap metal chair in the alleyway. The only difference was whether the story was told from the perspective of the Red Team or the Blue Team.

It seemed the Juche mage who died in Namyeong-dong last night had managed to escape the Anti-Communist Branch while keeping almost all of his information to himself despite the brutal torture. Although the existence of the barrier itself was something every mage in the world recognized, very few knew whether it was a barrier to prevent something outside from entering, or to prevent something inside from escaping. Fortunately for me, it appeared that no one else had newly learned the details of the barrier.

'Honestly, I was terrified at first.'

Whether as Irene Lonska, Aaron Oluney, or Ga Ye-rin—I could expose my fake identities as much as I wanted without hesitation. But under no circumstances could anyone else find out about Yerina Bronska. Thus, only now could I finally breathe a sigh of relief.

That concluded the cross-referencing of the information obtained from the Juche red. Next, I began to review the execution of the contract we had previously established.

"Ah, by the way, the people I mentioned will be arriving one after another today and tomorrow. You know you have to treat them as if they were me, right? Are all the items ready?"

Although it was a non-binding review of the "let's do our best" variety, to the recipient, my very existence seemed to carry all the coercion in the world.