Thunderous Purges
Thunderous personnel changes are the easiest way to show they're doing some kind of reform. Whenever a regime shifts, we see it on the news—committee chairs, ministers, and vice ministers from every government department getting swapped out wholesale. In my past life, nobles who lost the war for the throne were purged without exception. Not just politically, but physically—the family heads down to the maids had their heads rolling. A bit different from modern times, sure.
But look at North Korea or Russia, and it doesn't seem all that different even now.
The sky was choked with thick storm clouds. Any minute now, thunder's gonna—
KRAAACK! No sooner had the thought crossed my mind than the gray heavens flashed, unleashing a deafening roar that shook the world awake.
The downpour that had started last night showed no signs of letting up. Hailstone-sized raindrops hammered my yellow raincoat with vicious force, pounding my arms and back like they meant to punch right through. I'd worn the coat figuring an umbrella would be useless in this gale, but honestly, I probably shouldn't have come out at all.
Too late to turn back now.
I pushed through the murder-movie backdrop—nameless killer burying a body in the hills behind—and entered the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency's Violent Crimes Unit building.
Squeeeak-squeeeak—
"...?"
The weird friction between my wet rain boots and the urethane floor drew every eye in the first-floor lobby. Squelch-squelch. Whatever. Ignore it. If you let it get to you, you lose.
"Hey there, kiddo. What brings you here?"
A passing cop—or whatever he was—asked me.
"I'm here to see Detective Ma Beomil. He works in Violent Crimes Investigation Team 2."
"Oh yeah? Hang on a sec, I'll grab him for ya. Wait right here, little one. What's your connection, anyway? Daughter...? Wait, you're NoName, aren't you?"
How'd he spot me under the full raincoat hood? These public servants really do have sharp eyes for the details that matter.
I nodded quietly and waited for Detective Ma to come down.
Soon enough, a burly, rugged uncle figure tromped down the stairs—skipping the elevator. His stubbly beard looked even scruffier than last time.
"What're you doing here, Nami? This ain't a place for kids."
Too rainy outside for a walk, so we found an empty hallway and leaned against the wall. He chugged a canned coffee in one go, then crushed the empty can in his fist. I sipped my sikhye drink quietly beside him.
"You super busy?"
"Supposed to be. Feels weird being this idle. Been ages since I slacked off during work hours. How's my Ji-hye doing?"
"Uh, not great?"
"Yeah, she's always been the quiet type, never caused any trouble... What'd you say?"
"Seems like she's not doing well lately. You guys moving soon, right?"
"Ji-hye blabbed about that too? Yeah... things just kinda snowballed."
"Isn't it weird? The kid you pulled from that capsule ends up in the same academy class as your daughter."
"Weird... Nothing in this world ain't weird."
Detective Ma stared down the hallway at passing folks, avoiding my eyes. I could feel how awkward he found facing me.
"Nami."
"Yeah?"
"Uncle's really sorry. Might sound like an excuse, but back then, I never imagined you'd been trapped since birth."
"Eh, fair enough, I guess."
"And—"
"Detective Ma, you did nothing wrong. Everything you did back then was your best."
"Was it, though? I even promised to visit the orphanage often and couldn't keep it—blamed work. Looking back, it all feels like my fault."
Regret? No, he seemed resigned to this mess already. Rubbing his massive forearms like nicotine cravings were kicking in—it was kinda pitiful.
"Actually, I came to repay you, Detective."
"Repay what? No need for that. Finish your sikhye and head home. You come with your dad?"
He pulled a cigarette pack and lighter from his back pocket.
"So you're just gonna give up like this?"
"Huh?"
"Just gonna let it go? If Ji-hye transfers, she might end up resenting you later."
"Kids always come around and understand their parents' hearts eventually."
"And if she doesn't? You sure? Doesn't matter if things get strained in the meantime?"
"..."
Neither of us had an easy answer. Like he said, Ji-hye might grow up and get it. But if not, mending a broken bond would be brutal.
"Uncle, you know I'm starting that broadcast shoot tomorrow?"
"Broadcast? What broadcast?"
"Genius Discovery Team."
"Oh yeah, I know that one! You on it, Nami?"
"Why not?"
"Whoa, impressive."
"But the schedule's longer than I thought. Figured it'd be one day, but they say it could drag two weeks."
The PDs and writers alone number over twenty. ZBS replied to my email in under 40 seconds, proposing to sync schedules. They're ditching their usual two-to-three-kid-per-episode format for me—planning upper and lower parts over two weeks. More airtime means more benefits for me; I can say all the stuff I skipped at the tournament broadcast.
"Heard whispers. This job shuffle's probably 'cause of me."
"Who said that? Ain't your fault. Just empty-headed idiots hogging seats."
"We gotta fix what's wrong. Got a plan for the show—wanna hear it?"
It wasn't just Detective Ma who saved me from the capsule. Cheon Se-min caught my SOS tip first; other cops and EMTs rushed to the abandoned house. Even Ha Seon-hwa, my first-grade homeroom teacher who looked after me. On the broadcast, I'd visit them all and thank them personally. Once his treatment gets out, they might not stop the transfer, but at least block a reassignment out of region.
"How'd a kid like you get all these details?"
"A certain experienced someone lent a hand."
"Experienced who?"
"The guy who was chief prosecutor till last month. Pissed off the wrong people and got axed."
I stuck out my tongue and mimed slitting my throat. Cheon Jeong-ho, freshly discarded by the politicians—his idea, half-extorted from Professor Cheon.
"You're going on TV? For real? Whoa, huge!"
Seo Yu-na blinked at me. Ma Ji-hye had been my one-on-one sparring coach, but now Han Se-ri and Yuna joined like it was natural. The four of us lay on the auditorium floor, listening to raindrops drum the gym ceiling.
"So what do you do there? Show off mental math?"
"Treating it like a stunt show."
"Stunt show... what's that?"
"You don't know? Hard to explain in words."
It's freakish feats borrowed from inhuman power, but since mana exists here, the term doesn't stick.
"I'm curious too—how strong are you really, Nami? You never go all-out watching our spars."
"Can you sprint from that end of the auditorium to this in one go?"
"That? Even without magic."
"For real? No way! Why?"
Seo Yu-na's head snapped 90 degrees sideways. The other two, catching their breath, mimicked her like chameleons.
"What about magic? Like Meteor or something?"
"Why waste mana on inefficient crap like that? Don't even think about it later."
"Then what should I use?"
"Just tie 'em up normal-like and neutralize. Then freeze, burn, electrocute—"
"Ewww, too brutal!"
"Hahaha, Ji-hye! Slack off and Nami'll turn you into fried calamari!"
"Strongest 1st Circle spell? Tell me? Pleeease?"
Yuna kneaded my hand, begging.
"Yuna, 'strong' is subjective. Pump enough mana into Light and you could blind someone—is that the strongest?"
"Dunno... If it hurts when it hits, ain't that strong?"
"Simpler spells are easier to counter. It's not power—it's complexity. How intricate the principle is."
That's why my first unique magic, invented as a kid, felt so special. Others were tweaks on sealed erosions, but Adella—named now—induces fatigue fracture at precise stress points.
Seeing is believing, especially for kids who don't get it.
"Wanna see?"
"Yeah!"
"Follow me."
Squelch-squelch. I grabbed a stray badminton racket from the floor and headed to the auditorium's front doors, where wind and rain raged. The overhang kept direct rain off, but sideways gusts dampened our clothes a bit.
I gripped the racket backward, took a deep breath. The kids watched with wide, trembling eyes. I smirked at them, then focused.
How strong can I get this life?
Can't reclaim past-life realm—air mana density's different. But reincarnated, Aura Heart still immature. Still, nagging unease: would stimulating it awaken the erosion?
The sealed calamities in my ego and Aura Heart clusters followed me through rebirth.
Am I going soft lately? It's just an object, anyway.
No need to fear. Crush it with superior force.
The world runs on power. Wind from high to low pressure, heat from hot to cold. In capitalism, money pulls and pushes freely. Magic's no different.
The racket traced a big arc behind me. Simple overhead smash. Unique Magic Form 1 works sans target—if first strike's set right, midair overlaps chain.
Retract, extend. Sometimes slicing rain sideways, sometimes plunging with it like companions. Unused muscles screamed. I gritted through pain, forcing form with aura where posture failed.
Past life wasn't always superior. This world taught me mana realms are multidimensional composites. Shortest path: follow mana flow.
If each strike trails mana flow...?
Movement's way smoother. Magic defies nature's laws? Misconception from contrasting aura. Humans can't buck grand flows—best to ride them. Follow heaven's principles to survive; defy and perish. Past life's misery? Probably from defying nature with a dud body.
"Cover your ears, everyone."
No ranking magic's superiority, but among 1st Circle unique magics, mine's the best—I'm confident.
Whiiiirrr—!
Estasha Style Form 1 — Adella
"...!"
KABOOOOOM!
The earth quaked with ferocious thunder. A shockwave rippled outward in rings, whipping our hair. A fierce gust blasted toward the front, vaporizing the pouring rain in an optical illusion. The cafeteria building's red roof sharpened into view through the murk.
Magic circle faded; rain reclaimed the void like nothing happened. But concrete leaves were blasted aside, carving a forest path to the cafeteria.
Weather was gray, but the kids' eyes sparkled like stars.
"Wh-what'd you think? Wanna learn? Ain't free, though."
I forced a smile through throbbing aches, teeth clenched. A master can't look weak.