Elixir (4)

Out of nowhere, Ju Hwan's competitive streak had flared up, and he declared he wanted to fight me. This was no mood for a playful comeback, so I simply told him I'd think about it and finally managed to pry myself away. He'd been clinging to the back of the transport soldier begging for a duel, and Rune looked genuinely ready to cut him down for it, so I caved just to escape.

Ju Hwan insisted that everyone else should be limited to a single elixir at a time, allowed another only after they had completely made the first one their own. Hearing him out, Pitasha and I decided to cap purchases at one per person — and to forbid sales to ordinary civilians entirely.

"When we get back, we'll have to make a weaker version than the lowest grade... in other words, a supply-use line!"

"Yeah. That sounds good."

I do use mana, but only a trickle of it, and only when I invoke the Heaven-Rending Piercing Lance. My body still can't manage proper mana-based physical reinforcement, so I hadn't touched the elixir myself. I'm still such a novice with mana that I need to start from the supply-grade stock Pitasha will be producing, one careful step at a time.

Slowly clearing out goblins along the way, then dealing with a pack of orcs that crossed our path, we finally arrived in Daegu. By the time I reached my parents' house, my mother and father were no longer shedding tears. They still worried, of course — anyone would, with how absurdly strong I'd become — but apparently my homecomings no longer called for crying.

"Where's Pitasha?"

"Oh, right. Guys, release."

"Oh my..."

For the record, I'd had Rune put on armor before we came home.

"Whoa, she's freaking gorgeous?"

"And why haven't you been summoned yet?"

"What?"

Bickering with my brother all the way through the front door, I walked in to find my parents sharing a warm hug with Pitasha. They'd always wanted a daughter and ended up with two sons instead, so they treat Pitasha like their own flesh and blood.

"A pleasure to meet you. I am Rune, in service to my Master. This one is Kuma."

Kuma had shrunk down even smaller than before — the house was spacious enough, but the ceilings weren't exactly tall.

"So glad you could come. Do you like kimchi stew, by any chance? We've got kimchi stew right here."

"Kimchi... stew?"

Rune, whose culinary experience began and ended with tteokbokki and fried chicken, had no idea what that was. Pitasha had been exactly the same at first, so my parents — veterans of this routine by now — simply steered Rune toward the table.

Mother knew perfectly well that a being half human and half machine had no need for meals. Even so, she set a place for her and piled the table high. Pan-fried meat patties, rolled omelet, kimchi stew — Rune could only stare, flustered by the sheer number ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of side dishes. Paying her confusion ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠no mind whatsoever, Mother set a mountain of rice down in front of her.

"Thank you for the meal."

The stew glowed the same red as tteokbokki, and Rune's hopes rose for a moment — right up until the first bite.

"...!!!"

It was the widest her eyes had ever gone in all the time I'd known her. She froze for a heartbeat — and then her hands began moving at blinding speed as she inhaled the food.

With Pitasha it had been soybean paste stew, but the result was identical: Rune, vacuuming up everything in sight. Watching her, Mother smiled fondly and started ladling out more rice.

"...And here we go."

The endless feeding had begun — Pitasha, for the record, was already asking for seconds. I owe my own hearty appetite to a mother just like this; growing up, I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠never once ate a small meal.

Anyway, leaving Rune to be mercilessly force-fed behind us, we headed up to my room. Our house has three floors: my parents and my brother take the first two, and the third is all mine. The plan is to bring the Commanders along with me from now on, so we can all live together here — though of course we'd still share every meal at the same table.

Pitasha has a room of her own, but she keeps wandering into mine. The room's big and the bed's big enough, so we just sprawl out side by side, scrolling through our phones and catching up on all the news we'd missed.

"Sniff... sniff..."

"Aww, there, there..."

Maybe it's because Pitasha is a hardcore feeler, but she cries at the drop of a hat. And she plays these heartbreakingly sad story-driven games while bawling her eyes out the whole way through. I've got zero talent for games — raising sims are the extent of my repertoire — but Pitasha is terrifyingly good. So I'd watch her play like it was a masterclass, wiping her tears whenever the story made her weep.

...She really is beautiful.

Clear blue hair and brilliantly glowing yellow eyes. The sight of her gazing sadly at the monitor was more beautiful than any celebrity in South Korea.

I was mulling over thoughts like that when, before long, Rune — finally freed from her dinner torture — came in.

Clunk.

"...I'll just switch over my energy for a bit."

With that, she flopped face-first onto the bed and closed her eyes.

"It's cold in here — I'll get you a blanket!"

Pitasha, who had been sobbing mere moments ago, sprinted over and draped a blanket right over her. Rune had shed her armor on the way in — it must have felt stuffy — and Pitasha, seeing that, hurried to tuck her in before returning to my side and picking her game back up.

Like I thought. I really do love this everyday life.

"We have a problem. North Korea has requested aid."

"What kind of aid?"

"China is moving to swallow North Korea whole, and Kim Jeong-in is refusing to allow it. His daughter — the designated heir — is the one who reached out for help."

Hold on. So North Korea had no idea China was planning to devour it all this time? No. Even before all this, they knew perfectly well that if the US forces ever pulled out of the peninsula, China would grab North Korea and swallow it whole. That's exactly why they kept provoking us in small doses for years — to give the Americans a reason to stay in the South.

But North Korea had truly been driven to the brink of collapse, and at that point, they said, China's help was no longer on the table. As for why they never sought South Korea's help:

"Pride... or so I'm told. Kim Jeong-in still insists he cannot accept aid from Seoul, but his daughter appears to be a wiser sort."

Whatever the case, the heir had reached out — unofficially, but reached out all the same. And in this situation, there was nothing the Republic of Korea could do openly. China currently wielded a colossal military, and its economy sent shockwaves across the entire globe.

"What do you intend to do?"

"The President has already informed the United States and Japan of the situation. And he will address the nation shortly."

At his words I switched on the TV — and there was President Choi Seok-hoon.

Choi Seok-hoon's message was simple: as President, and as old brethren, we would help North Korea. In other words, he was declaring a willingness to go to war with China itself and make North Korea part of the Republic.

"That is what he says, but officially, all we can do is urge restraint. I took the liberty of asking whether any countermeasures existed."

"What about cutting off artifact exports to China?"

"Impossible. They no longer believe artifacts are even worth getting their hands on."

From the moment China had moved to swallow North Korea, they had already been planning for war. Guns and artillery shells were what mattered over there, they reasoned — who needed a sword that spits fire? Their leaders were long past the age of being summoned, after all.

"As it happens, I have a good idea. Let's meet in person first."

"...Thank you. Thank you so much."

Just like that, I'd run up another debt for South Korea. It might feel like I keep getting dragged along by the government, but nothing could be further from the truth. I'd always intended to sell this through the state to begin with. There was no way to move something this dangerous without going through the government — and what mattered to me now was the title of national hero.

Not just worship as some god walking the earth. I needed an achievement so colossal that every citizen of the Republic would look at me and see it. Unification. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠And if that was the goal — wasn't it entirely within reach?

My name would be written into the history books. I would become the eternal hero of the Republic of Korea.

"A truly excellent idea, Master. One of the finest roads to becoming a hero there is."

Rune nodded along beside me, echoing my thoughts.

"Division is easy; unity is hard. To take in our old brethren — people separated from us by barely a century — amid all this chaos, and to crush an enemy nation in the process? Being hailed as a hero is the very least he deserves."

"I think so too. Do you have any idea how hard unification is?"

While most of the world's nations were mired in chaos, South Korea was carrying on with daily life almost exactly as before. Beyond the peacetime death rate, the vast majority of those summoned were coming home alive. I had built all of that with my own two hands — and now, beyond merely restoring the old way of life, I would forge an achievement far greater than anything before it.

"...A promise, is it? You monkey."

He burst out laughing, giddy at the mere thought of growing strong enough to spit in the faces of the other gods. Utterly impossible to like, this one.

However you looked at it, completing this unification would hand me the third power free of charge — and make me something like the king of South Korea.

According to Choi Seok-hoon, the spies who had infiltrated the government were currently being eliminated one by one, their deaths disguised as accidents. Apparently someone inside the administration had just gained an assassin-type ability this time around — and it was said to be extraordinarily powerful.

"The one certainty is that South Korea is getting healthier by the day."

And for that, someone needed to prove the elixirs I was holding right now.

Swish.

The direct phone numbers of presidents from a dozen different nations — acquired just recently.

Riiing.

First up: America.