The Hero of South Korea
My assets had ballooned in the blink of an eye.
With over ten billion won sitting in my accounts, I had, quite suddenly, become a rich man. It was a glaring contrast to the old days, when I'd been running around hauling cargo because there wasn't a single coin in the bank.
"Let's buy a house first."
Seoul, the current capital of South Korea. It technically had the best public security in the country, but honestly? Daegu and Seoul were pretty much the same story. Seoul was worse, even — buildings packed wall to wall, no room for an army to maneuver. And far too expensive.
"Let's move, sir. We'll buy a property first and renovate it. The government will approve it immediately — you've more than earned that goodwill."
"Fine, we'll do it your way. You're talking like the people calling me a hero, so you must know what you're doing."
"…Thank you."
With a single word from my father, the man who held final say on anything involving the family, the decision was made. We picked a spot surrounded by open land yet fully serviced by infrastructure — and, crucially, dirt cheap.
"Holy crap… all of this is ours? It's huge!"
"The mountain behind it is ours too. For now we'll live in the old house and move in once the renovation's done. Pitasha, I'm counting on you."
"Of course, Master!"
"Ah, please take good care of it."
"Leave it to me!"
Pitasha and the high- and mid-tier combat engineers swarmed the site, and construction began in an instant. Naturally, I'd asked Director Lee Jin-seok to fax over every piece of paperwork needed, so nothing stood in the way. Just four days later, what was probably the safest house on the entire planet stood complete.
Triple-layered walls around the perimeter, and artillery emplacements atop those walls. It looked like nothing so much as a fortress — yet its exterior was styled so naturally that it passed under my parents' eyes entirely, all while hiding an absurdly high-tech security system.
"This is only slightly beyond the technological level of this world. And do not underestimate American technology, Master."
From what she said, apparently the rumors about American tech were no lie.
"So the machine legion can't roam around here like it did up on that barrier wall?"
"Not yet. The standards here and there are a little different. But once the number of people summoned to that world grows a bit more, we'll be able to apply it to Earth as well!"
I didn't really understand the whole causality business — it was way too complicated — so I just nodded along. My parents were busy marveling at the sleek, futuristic building, and my little sister got smacked for whining about posting it on Instagram.
"So the machine legion can stay here, then?"
"Yes. Your level is high enough, Master… it should be fine. Leaving this much here is well within limits."
She said I could keep roughly twenty units behind, so I left three Heavy Weapons Units, sixteen Raptors, and a single Sniper, and headed back.
Of course, before anything else, there were tasks to handle — distributing artifacts, and traveling to Seoul to receive my commendation for retaking Busan.
"Haha, I'm a bit late, aren't I? My apologies."
"No trouble at all. Though… haven't you made me out to be a bit too much of a hero? It's honestly embarrassing…"
"Hahahaha…"
Director Lee Jin-seok just gave that awkward, apologetic laugh. Well, that's how life goes. He was a civil servant, after all — he had no choice but to follow orders from above.
Following his guidance, I could see a row of ministers assembled. He'd already briefed me on exactly what to do, so all I had to do was play my part. And yet, after fighting with my life on the line for so long, standing here still made my palms sweat.
Receiving a medal from the President — the man I'd only ever seen on the internet, no less.
"And now! Please welcome our nation's hero, the Returnee Mechanic, Kim Hyunwoo!"
Clap clap clap clap clap clap
To the applause of the citizens watching from all sides, I stepped outside. Director Lee Jin-seok had suggested I make my entrance riding a Raptor… but that was a bridge too far, and I'd turned him down flat.
As I walked slowly forward, the high-ranking officials at the very front were all staring at me with hungry eyes. Their covetous gazes were so intense that I pretended not to notice and quickened my pace.
"Thank you, truly, for lending your strength to South Korea. I mean that from the heart."
"I only did what needed doing."
"Now, face forward and smile, please."
Click.
Click.
Click.
The flood of camera flashes nearly blinded me, but I managed to force my eyes open just in time for the shots. I had no intention of being immortalized with my eyes squeezed shut.
And so the medal ceremony ended, and I finally escaped the flash-bulb hell.
"Excuse me, Mr. Hyunwoo? The President would like a word with you."
"Ah, of course. Understood."
Called over by Director Lee Jin-seok, I decided a chat with the President couldn't hurt, and followed him inside.
Choi Seok-hoon, the sitting President of the Republic of Korea. A man who had clawed his way into politics starting with part-time jobs at the age of twenty. He drew people in with exceptional leadership and a rare capacity for embrace, becoming a mayor by thirty, then a governor, and finally winning the presidency in his late forties.
Right now, people were calling him the greatest president in Korean history, and he was being hailed as a phenomenal figure even in the United States and Japan.
Which was exactly why I'd agreed so readily to the conversation.
When I opened the door and stepped inside, there sat Choi Seok-hoon, immaculate in a well-pressed suit.
"Ah, at last we meet properly. I'm Choi Seok-hoon, the current President of the Republic of Korea."
"Kim Hyunwoo — though I hear people call me the Mechanic."
"Please, have a seat first."
We took our places, and Director Lee Jin-seok poured the tea. Apparently it was fine for him to sit in on this conversation.
Slurp.
After finishing his cup, Choi Seok-hoon looked me dead in the eye and spoke.
"I intend to make you, Kim Hyunwoo, the hero of South Korea's salvation."
"Am I not already a hero?"
"On an entirely different level from now."
Choi Seok-hoon's explanation went something like this.
As of today, roughly thirty nations stood on the brink of collapse. In the Middle East, talk had even emerged of abandoning one country outright and merging into a single state. Amid all this, South Korea was raking in staggering sums as a defense exporter, and civilian contractors were hiring in droves.
Every nation on Earth was in a state not far removed from open civil war. The government had used the national budget to buy up artifacts the way it had before, and now it was devouring defense contractors like a madman. Export bans had been slapped on the defense companies for the time being.
And the reason all this was possible? South Korea simply didn't need oil anymore. Thanks, of course, to the magic stones.
Which meant that if the nation rode out this crisis, it would emerge as an overwhelming power — and the current administration's course would rub plenty of other countries the wrong way. The smokescreen for diverting the world's attention? That was to be my job.
"Mr. Hyunwoo, you need to grow into someone the other nations court so desperately they'd practically steal you away. A hero on the verge of being poached, no less. Every gaze on Earth must turn to you. Every advance South Korea makes must look like it happened because of you. Just like the artifacts."
South Korea was, at this moment, the fastest-growing country in the entire world. Because it was growing alone, while every other nation was in retreat. The country had been short on money and resources — and magic stones had solved both.
"Is that all you need from me?"
"That's all. South Korea will package itself as a nation so terrified of losing you that it spares no expense on support. The other countries will assume there must be a very good reason for us to go that far. And in truth, we will pledge you our full support, Mr. Hyunwoo."
"Then what exactly am I expected to do?"
"Simply keep distributing artifacts as you have been. And, ah — would it be possible to station that, er… machine legion of yours here in South Korea on a permanent basis?"
"Not yet. If I grow a little more, I believe it will be."
"Noted. Honestly, given the current situation, this is the time to raise our baseline strength across the board."
'He really is different.'
His mind was wide open. Above all, the man thought big.
'To think a man like this is President of South Korea… and he was only elected last year — he's got three more years in office.'
Looked like I wouldn't have a single thing to worry about for the next three years.
We hashed out a few more details, and then my conversation with the President came to an end. The talk had apparently been classified top secret, because when I stepped outside, the reporters' encampment was gone — the place was deserted.
With Director Lee Jin-seok seeing me off, I boarded a transport unit and merged onto the highway. That was when the gates suddenly began appearing.
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeng—!
"Guess that's why they're monitoring by satellite. Fast."
The officials flagged each gate the moment it began to sprout up, one after another. They say the emergency martial law declaration also purged the corruption and brought in a massive wave of new hires — and sure enough, the work got done differently.
"Director Lee Jin-seok. The gates on this national road — no need to dispatch the military. Ah, just send a team to purchase the magic stones."
"Understood. Then safe travels, sir."
Click.
The call ended. I looked ahead, where goblins had begun to crawl out.
"…It's a Stage 3 wave."
Three measly goblins. Three goblins, that was all.
And the three goblins that had just emerged were all alive. Coated head to toe in blood, but alive.
That was reality. People who couldn't even kill three goblins were dragged off to places crawling with monsters, to die.
"Kyek?"
Crack.
Crackle-crackle-crackle…!
"KYEEEEEEEEEEAAAGH!"
A javelin of lightning tore through the air and skewered the goblin in an instant.
Rattle-rattle-rattle.
The goblins understood then. That they were facing something far, far stronger than themselves.
"Die."
Thud.
Let me be clear — I am no saint.
But when I see a puppy standing out in the rain, shivering, searching for an owner who abandoned it, I can feel sorry for it. I'm an ordinary human whose chest tightens at those sad-cause charity commercials. And it was precisely because I was ordinary that I could empathize.
"…Well, it's only the beginning."
The first generation always has it hardest — isn't that how it's always been?
Vroom—
"We've… arrived."
"Ah, there you are."
"Ah… yes."
I sold the magic stones on the spot to a soldier wearing a dour expression, then climbed back onto the transport.
About five days until the Return. Until then, I planned to spend the time with my family — maybe even take Pitasha to an amusement park and have some fun.
For now, I'd focus on the present. After all, there was nothing else I could do.