A New Sponsor (3)

According to the returnees, raids were apparently the only way to obtain magic stones.

Most people were convinced that the remaining [???] entry on the list had to be Raid.

But every entry before it had been directly tied to returnees — Shop, Community, Sponsor.

"Something about Raid feels off, honestly."

For now, my plan was to repeat Wave 30 while using the Community to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠gather intel on Earth, then return home afterward.

Clearing Wave 30 had bought me thirty days.

"Can't I split that time up? If I ever earn a hundred days later on, I'd really like to use it in chunks."

Another thing to check with a Question Ticket when I got the chance.

Browsing the Community, it seemed most people could clear up to around Wave 4 flawlessly. Even without a unique trait, they picked up random traits and boosted them with enhancement tickets, after which they could apparently beat goblins in a straight fight.

"It really does help, learning how to fight."

I was mulling that over as I wandered the Community when a new post popped up.

"That's... not good."

It wasn't just South Korea, either. In countries around the world, people had apparently resigned themselves to the idea that anyone dragged off to the trials was as good as dead anyway, and crimes of every kind were spiraling out of control as a result.

South Korea's incident was the first of its kind here, but countries where public safety had already been shaky were racking up countless victims.

If things kept going this way, returnees would find themselves cornered everywhere. And for people who'd barely crawled back home alive to be treated as potential criminals...

"Maybe I should just go back. I've got plenty of factories running now, after all."

I was rolling the Return Stone around in my hand — my palm resting on the crystal orb at that very moment — when Sun Wukong's thoughts came flying into my head. I opened the Sponsor tab, and his message appeared.

"And those three things would be...?"

"...Deal."

Three things. He could walk away with something absolutely enormous — but breaking free of Omnissiah's influence mattered just as much.

And for good reason. What if Omnissiah suddenly took it into his mechanical head to seize control of his own machines and hold my parents hostage to force the contract through?

Nothing guaranteed that wouldn't happen, and gods were fickle by nature.

Besides, he was even offering a unique trait. It wasn't easy to refuse.

"Let's make the contract."

"Yeah."

Fwooooooosh—

The instant I answered, threads of gold and crimson light began winding their way around my body.

"It feels like... something's connecting to me."

Once the light finally faded, I placed my hand straight onto the crystal orb.

"Ugh... the Clone Technique is useless right now!"

"And what am I supposed to do with that right now? Give me something actually useful!"

"Easy enough. All I have to do first is sell off these artifacts, right?"

Just the factories already standing here numbered in the dozens.

Ordinary goods were produced at a rate of one per second. Artifacts, remarkably, were one per minute. Drones took about five minutes apiece.

And that was a single factory. With dozens of them running, the output had naturally crept up toward a million units.

"Then — Return."

Fwooooooooosh—

Light swallowed me whole, and when I opened my eyes again, I was somewhere I hadn't expected.

"Whoa..."

"Kyaaaaaaah!"

I had returned to a school rooftop. One of the girls I'd seen there that day screamed as if she were about to fall over in shock.

"Are you a returnee?"

"Ah — yes."

"Mr. Kim! That's the Mechanic, isn't it? The one with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the artifacts!"

"Oh my god! C-could I possibly get an autograph?"

The teacher hurriedly fished a pen out of his pocket.

"Right here, if you would."

"Ah... sure."

There wasn't a proper sheet of paper in sight, so I ended up signing the back of a white T-shirt.

After that, I made my way down slowly, only escaping the place after surviving an absolute autograph gauntlet from the students.

Fortunately, the place I'd been summoned to was Gumi, right next to Daegu.

I immediately notified Director Lee Jin-seok that I had returned, then boarded a transport and headed for the highway.

"Well, would you look at that. It's gotten so clean. You can actually see the road."

Military checkpoints had been set up all along the highway, a nationwide cleanup had just wrapped up, and thanks to the artifacts I'd provided, the death rate had dropped enough for the country to catch its breath.

Of the enormous haul I'd brought back, the artifacts and equipment had been sold first, in enough volume to outfit every citizen aged sixteen to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠thirty.

And after that, the one I'd sold to was none other than the military itself.

"These are the military-grade ones."

Artifacts built specifically for use by the Republic of Korea. A staggering 200,000 units had been produced, with subdimensional storage and drones included in the lot.

From the military, I charged 2 million won apiece — double the 1 million won civilians paid. The drones and subdimensional units went for 5 million won each.

In the blink of an eye, my assets leapt past hundreds of billions and thousands of billions of won, until I found myself staring at the trillion scale.

"By the way, the United States and Japan are desperate to buy artifacts. How would you like to handle it?"

"Where does the government stand?"

"They say exporting around three percent of production to other countries is acceptable. After all, even three percent would amount to hundreds of thousands of units."

"Hmm. Understood. Let's give that some thought."

Meanwhile, I'd spent a massive amount of points summoning low- and mid-tier combat units.

And the reason was exactly this.

"From this moment on, the fatality rate around Daegu goes below five percent. Everyone, MOVE!"

<Vrrreeee...>

In an instant, the Raptors came tearing out across the streets.

"Our kids are popular, aren't they?"

She latched onto my side and crossed her arms, showing me the view through the Raptors' eyes.

"They are."

"WAAAAAH! The Mechanic's finally back!"

"Oh thank god, he's here. We might actually live!"

Citizens began cheering at the sight of the Raptors.

Tens of thousands of combat units were being deployed across the streets — and at the same time, the deployment was spreading across nearly the entire country.

"We don't have any fliers yet, do we?"

"They're in the highest tier!"

The top-tier machines cost a full 10,000 points each.

Ten thousand points wasn't a fortune, but it wasn't chump change either — enough to summon ten mid-tier combat units.

The only reason I hadn't bought any yet was that there simply hadn't been a need.

"Next time I go back, I'm spending everything I've saved on top-tiers. And how the hell do I get commanders?"

Commanders were units that couldn't be purchased with points no matter what.

Granted, Pitasha alone had boosted my capabilities by leaps and bounds, but if I could summon more beings like her, that would be straight-up cheating.

Still, I had no idea they'd be this hard to come by.

I was thinking exactly that when a gate opened up in front of a Raptor.

The moment it registered the anomaly, the Raptor sent out a signal, and every unit in the vicinity began converging.

GUOOOOOOOOO—

Then the gate yawned open, and the Raptors lunged straight through, snapping goblin necks on the spot.

The citizens, watching the goblins get annihilated in seconds, erupted into cheers.

"Now then, what to do with these hundreds of billions of won... Ah. Here might be perfect, actually."

South Korea was currently suffering a food shortage.

To be precise, prices kept climbing. Other countries had it just as bad, mind you.

In the United States, a single hamburger combo reportedly cost the equivalent of thirty to forty thousand won. That says it all.

Either way, gukbap back home had climbed to twenty or thirty thousand won a bowl — proof enough of how dire things were.

"We're building smart farms."

Daegu's housing and land prices had skyrocketed. Word had spread that Daegu was safer than Seoul, and people had flooded in fast.

Thanks to that, Daegu — a city that once had no jobs to speak of — was seeing employment created by force, while Seoul, bleeding ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠population, was becoming safer in turn.

Just like that, the population pressure that had been Seoul's greatest vulnerability was dispersed across the country.

"Wasn't Busan dirt cheap these days?"

Busan was a ruin, its buildings collapsed and its land devastated — and with land in the surrounding area so cheap, I dumped 200 billion won on the spot and bought up land and buildings alike.

Everything was rubble, so I got it all for pocket change.

"Smart farms... you can build them, right? Don't do it yourself — put the engineer units on it. You stay here and play with me. Remote control works now, doesn't it?"

"Okay!"

With the cooperation of Director Lee Jin-seok and the government, I bought up enormous tracts of land around Busan.

Then I stationed Heavy Weapons Units and Raptors there as the main garrison, with a handful of Snipers thrown in.

I even installed non-lethal civilian deterrent traps to keep trespassers out. The whole project took about two weeks.

It still felt surreal, watching the Republic of Korea work this efficiently — but I couldn't say I minded.

"Hmm... sharing the technology would be insane, wouldn't it? Hey. Bring me the reporter who wrote this article."

President Choi Seok-hoon — currently holding absolute-monarch-level power under emergency martial law.

A smile spread across his lips.