108. Holy War Declaration (1)
Skeleton raids struck twice more after that. Once near the intersection leading to Erona or Autobello, and once in the small village with the school. The horde seemed to have the coalition's movements completely mapped out, ambushing the refugee buses with ever-increasing ferocity.
"Looks like there's definitely a spy inside. There's this nauseating, stomach-churning mana signature among the refugees."
"Finally found 'em. I was getting pissed off anyway."
They hadn't waited for reinforcements from the Balhut Cult headquarters in Gyeongju precisely to flush out any potential infiltrators during the evacuation. Son Sang-hee had hinted at a spy's presence by noting the vile mana among the refugees, and Jin A-yeon—who'd just smashed an enemy commander's skull—shook her spear in the air, slung it over her shoulder, and turned to her.
"Alright then. Time to round 'em up. How many?"
"One per bus, it seems."
There were forty transport buses carrying the current refugees. That meant roughly forty spies hidden among them, one riding each bus disguised as civilians.
"That's a lot. At least forty slipped in? Hmm. Or is that small potatoes compared to four thousand people?"
"It's a lot. Easily a full platoon."
"Knew it."
Jin A-yeon was stunned by the number, but considering the evacuation scale, it might even be low. Forty out of four thousand was just one percent. Still, forty wasn't trivial—it exceeded a platoon's worth. And the real terror was...
"But forty Awakeners? That's scary. If they infiltrate Gyeongju and disrupt public order, even the tax office or military might struggle to stop them."
All of them being Awakeners made it horrifying. It was like elite trained soldiers from pre-apocalypse days slipping into the refugee crowd. Superhumans who could effortlessly subdue dozens of civilians—forty of them embedded, no less. Escorting the refugees while pretending ignorance and shipping them to Gyeongju would be a nightmare. If they banded together, an unknown Awakener force would materialize inside the city. Capturing them here risked guerrilla tactics with civilians as hostages. A true headache for the coalition, forcing tough choices on how to neutralize forty Awakeners.
"Sure, dangerous if they group up. But right now, they're scattered."
"Yeah. Spread out, one per bus to avoid suspicion."
That assumed they'd cluster for guerrillas. For now, to dodge detection, they were disguised as refugees, one per bus—likely quite complacent. Isolated targets meant...
"We can take 'em down one by one."
Divide and conquer. Jin A-yeon shot Son Sang-hee a sharp look, and the deputy nodded in agreement.
"Problem is, they might have ways to contact each other. Even picking them off individually—if they use smartphones, the others will know they've been hit..."
"Nah, that's impossible."
"Pardon?"
Son Sang-hee warned it might work initially but smartphones enabled real-time alerts. Alarmed spies could seize hostages inside buses, turning the fight against the coalition. But...
"That's pre-apocalypse thinking. Handing out charged smartphones to spies? Doesn't make sense."
"What do you mean?"
"Using a phone screams 'I've got resources.' To blend as refugees, better to act like everyone else—no phone. We've been screening refugees with phones anyway."
That was the Balhut Cult's energy-abundant perspective. Realistically, not every spy had free phone access. Assuming the Immortal Cult equipped them for psyops was natural for Son Sang-hee, but in this apocalypse, phone use signaled luxury. Even Ulsan Airport—holding half of North Ulsan after partial capture—limited phones to executives. Could the Immortal Cult issue them to every grunt?
"Even we—second-richest after the Immortal Cult in Ulsan—only let me, Han Seong-geun, and a few others use phones. Think they'd waste 'em on lone spies?"
No way. Without Bahamut's infinite energy, spy gadgets had limits. Jin A-yeon and Han Seong-geun—Fukuoka heroes with prestige—restricted phones to brass due to power shortages.
"I doubt it. Half a year in, functional phones in Ulsan have dwindled physically."
"I see."
Indeed, usable phones had likely decreased. The Balhut Cult, with Bahamut's endless power for electronics, might not grasp it—they lived pre-apocalypse style.
"Then let's search the buses under the pretext of checking for injuries."
Son Sang-hee committed to the plan, declaring interior checks for the wounded.
"Good idea, but..."
Three battles total now. Asking about injuries was a perfect excuse for refugee safety.
"They might resist."
No hard evidence—just suspicion. But...
"We'll make 'em patients for real. Herd 'em together."
"Now that's brilliant!"
No time for proof in emergencies. Force them into "patients," relocate—no more issues. Crude, but the search pretext fit perfectly; tagging all suspects solved everything.
"Let's move."
"Yes, ma'am."
Leaving the coalition cleaning the battlefield, Jin A-yeon and Son Sang-hee boarded the lead bus.
"Anyone hurt? Or feeling sick?"
"We'll treat urgent cases in our medical vehicles!"
No access blocks, but shock without injury expected. Key: health checks doubled as spy hunts.
"Guhk?!"
"Whoa, this one's looking pale. We've got an emergency here!"
Simple method. Enter yelling for injured to draw eyes; Son Sang-hee signals suspects to Jin A-yeon. She strides "checking," closes on target, unleashes a superhuman punch too fast for Awakener eyes. Target clutches gut in agony; Jin A-yeon hollers loudly.
"Straight to the medical bus for emergency evac!"
Son Sang-hee chimes in; suspect gets piggybacked out, shipped to the med bus. There, demeanor shifts—bound hands/feet, gagged, guarded heavily.
"One down."
"Grab the rest."
But tails get caught. Rear spies spotted "patients" emerging per boarding—suspicion bloomed. Spies exposed? Panic set in; no faces visible on evacuees fueled dread. As it closed in...
"Damn it!"
Unable to endure, a rear spy shattered a window, leaping to flee. Coalition dispersed for cleanup—perfect chance, he thought.
"Strike!"
"Gahk?!"
Crack. Skull-shattering thud. Brain rattled, vision blurred, body crumpled. Something rolled across pavement after bouncing off his head.
"A... rock...? That damn gorilla bitch..."
"Who're you calling gorilla bitch?!"
Perfect timing foiled—Jin A-yeon spotted, hurled a stone. Level 20+ superhuman full-force toss pulped his skull; he foamed and blacked out.
But just the start.
"Runner!"
"Bahamut Bullets—suppress!"
"Hostage-taker inside!"
One bolt sparked chain reaction; spies bolted desperately. Some fled blind spots like him; others seized bus civilians for threats. Bullets handled runners, but hostages stymied.
"Touch me, and every hostage dies!"
Last holdout menaced even the driver, locking doors, vowing mass death on capture. No instant takedown meant no guarantees. Jin A-yeon stepped into the street, bellowing.
"You psycho! Hostages now?! Skeletons scream Immortal Cult! Planning to slaughter Gyeongju evacuees, you filthy necromancer?!"
Pointing out: Ulsan rulers killing refugees for survival? Killing them solidified doubts. Refugees murmured the same—but sadly...
"Blasphemers! We purge disbelievers fleeing His protection in Ulsan! You ally with the hated cult of the false Dragon God—you let them die!"
Her barbs bounced off fanaticism. Dismissing Bahamut as "false," soldiers loyal to the Dragon God glared furiously. Others scowled at the blasphemy, rifles trained unhesitatingly.
Jin A-yeon sighed, nodding.
"Eh, both cults suspect. But one listens; the other doesn't. Plus, we're saving powerless refugees. Clear winner. You're no Ulsan heroes—just humanity's trash from the start!"
Balhut saves civilians; Immortal holds them hostage. Black-and-white clear. Jin A-yeon declared allegiance, slamming the cult.
"Don't insult our Immortal Cult! Know how we've served Ulsan?!"
"Sure? But everything you do reeks. Starting to think you're apocalypse culprits?"
"N-no! We're chosen! By Him! Granted this power! Chosen ones!"
Spy insisted despite sarcasm. As eyes locked...
"Him? We'll get it in interrogation. You're under arrest for obstructing officials."
"Gaaack?!"
Driver collusion bypassed; Son Sang-hee slipped in, Bahamut Bullet dropping him. Spies rounded up successfully.
"That's all."
"Yes. Hand possibles to tax office... Huh?"
Non-Awakeners possible too; delegating as she sensed familiar-yet-off mana.
Skeletons again? Scan—no sign.
"What?"
"This aura... Legendary...!"
Recognition hit: Baek Seol-hwa's signature move, back when survivors.
"E-everyone, evade! Clear the spy vehicles—run!"
No explanation—just danger yell. She bolted from spy bus; Jin A-yeon followed suit.
"W-wait! No! Stop!"
Spy swelled like a bomb—flesh and blood detonating massively. Vehicles, surroundings engulfed. Warning saved most, but shards/metal shredded—limbs severed, chaos.
"F-fuck, that hurts!"
Superhuman Jin A-yeon rose bloodied.
"N-nearly died. Suit saved me—instant otherwise."
Son Sang-hee couldn't stand sans suit. Prison bus soldiers...
"M-my... arm!"
"L-leg! Hurts! It hurts!"
Wails amid severed limbs.
"Painkillers! Painkillers—where?!"
Jin A-yeon dragged wounded body to med bus. Then...
"Injured?"
"Finally."
Son Sang-hee sighed in relief—long-awaited arrival.