A Cure for the Calamity

Crash!

Mana Insensitivity could be cured?

Curtis had just been told something that shocking. He tried to lurch to his feet without thinking and drove himself straight into the table.

Shin Haneul watched the spectacle in silence, then offered a single line.

"Please stay where you are."

Curtis nodded and nodded. There was nothing for it but to withdraw and wait at a distance, exactly as he was told.

Shin Haneul turned his head toward Ted. Curtis, it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠seemed, was not the only one stunned. Ted was staring at him with a face gone rigid with shock.

"You can... fix it?"

"Of course."

Ted still shook his head, as if he simply could not believe it. The disease was that much of a calamity for the awakened of this age—a sentence with no appeal.

But in the future? It would become easy to treat.

"Ted. Do you know what causes Mana Insensitivity?"

"No."

"The awakening shock wasn't enough."

"What?"

"Awakening comes with extreme pain, doesn't it? But if your mana is too vast, or your body can't support it, the process never makes it to the end. A brake catches halfway. The mana circuit starts to open, and then the flow clogs."

Some people used their power for a while before it shut. Others, like Ted, closed off at once. So the treatment was simple. You only had to make them hurt for the rest of the pain that had been left unfinished.

"...What? That conclusion sounds wrong. Is that actually a verified method?"

Footsteps. Shin Haneul came closer, and Ted backed away, and the distance between them vanished almost at once. The room was not large. Retreating did him no good.

"I won't force you. But right now, I'd wager there's no one but me who can open a mana circuit."

"......"

"Don't you want revenge?"

Even setting that aside, the sooner it was fixed, the better. The treatment for Mana Insensitivity in his previous life had not appeared on its own. It had been researched because everyone was driven, half against their will, to throw everything they had at it.

Just before the Tower came into being—in other words, not long from now—an imbalance in the mana waves would send the mana of Mana Insensitivity patients running wild at random.

The dead would not be limited to the patients. Everyone around them would be caught in it. They would become living human bombs, and depending on the awakened in question, bombs with a blast radius anywhere from a tenth of a kilometer to five. It had observed neither time nor place, and the loss of life had been catastrophic.

Of course, the Ted of my previous life was lucky enough that nothing like that happened to him...

History had already changed a great deal. Nothing said the butterfly effect would spare them an accident. And even if he came through unharmed, it would amount to the same thing. Until a treatment existed, he would have to live in dread, never knowing when he might die. Refuse a cure that was being offered now, and he would pound the ground in regret.

The question was whether he could endure the pain. Shin Haneul was not particularly worried about that.

"I'll do it."

"Good. Then hold still."

Sorry state or not, Ted was still Kim Jongwoo, the SSS-Rank potion maker. He was a man who had been able to haul himself upright over his own pain.

"AAAAAGH—! Cancel! Cancel—! I don't want to!"

...Or not quite yet.

Colonel Curtis had been watching from behind with meek obedience. Only after Ted was half-unconscious did he finally earn the right to speak.

"If we simply bring you the patients, can you really cure Mana Insensitivity on the spot?"

A nod. A small thing, but more than enough to send a thrill through Curtis. The treatment the entire world yearned for—so simple, and applicable to anyone.

"If this gets out... the world will turn upside down! As you know, a great many of those struck by Mana Insensitivity were exceptional people!"

"Well, I suppose so. I explained it to him as well, but Mana Insensitivity is ultimately a failure to withstand your own mana at the moment of awakening. A weak body, or far too much mana. So of course the rate runs higher among the exceptionally gifted."

Shin Haneul said it as if it hardly mattered. To him, it truly did not. That was not true of anyone else.

For an instant, Curtis's mind spun at a furious clip.

How... do I even ask him to teach us this method?

With anyone else, he might have tried to negotiate for the technique. But he had already handed Shin Haneul everything he had to give. What more could he set on the table that would catch the man's interest? He had no idea. And then Shin Haneul, unexpectedly, came out with it cleanly.

"I can teach you. The principle of the treatment."

Curtis's eyes flew wide.

"With AARC's facilities... you should be able to do something close to what I did."

"Wh-what would you like us to do for you?"

Curtis was faintly uneasy. This did not feel like a seat he was fit to occupy.

"No, no. Nothing grand is necessary. I'll be taking payment in full anyway. There's also the condition that it may be sold only to the nations I designate."

"That goes without saying."

"And if I were to ask for one thing more..."

For a moment, Shin Haneul's gaze went to Ted.

"That kid is going to beat a few people. Rather badly."

"...?"

"Handle it cleanly, so no talk comes of it afterward."

"Ah! If that's all it is...! Of course!"

Ted's background check had already been finished before they ever came here. The same went for what they had on James's crew. Ordinary people, nothing that would pose a particular problem. By the spirit of a soldier they, too, were people to be protected—but in a national crisis, the sacrifice of individuals was unavoidable. All the more so when it was merely the price of a vulgar wrong they had committed themselves.

"Understood."

James's group, in all likelihood, did not yet know what kind of position they were in.

"...You're sure this is really all right?" Ted asked.

"I'd ask only that you keep it short of killing them, if you can," Shin ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Haneul said to Curtis. "Of course... should some unfortunate accident happen anyway, I'll still see that it's handled."

"Thank you."

A little suffering, and Ted's eyes had changed. Venom. And, held in the same look, a boundless gratitude toward Shin Haneul. For Shin Haneul, that was enough.

The lock clicked.

For the first time in a very long while, Ted Kim opened the door and stepped outside. He was going to school. Not to study, of course. The school day was long over; it was a late, unhurried afternoon. He walked slowly onto the grounds. Nothing there had changed from before he had shut himself away. In the classroom they chattered among themselves, and when their eyes met his, they looked away.

Paradoxically, the one who welcomed him was James—the very person who had made all of this.

"Oh—! Look who it is! Our friend Ted!"

A snicker rode under the voice. In the old days, every time this happened, his whole body curled in on itself, and he sank into self-loathing in the same breath. But now?

"What was I ever so afraid of in a punk like this."

It took James's brain a moment to register the words. In his head, Ted was an idiot. He had never once imagined the boy would speak to him like that.

"You little shit. While I wasn't looking, you lost your damn fear—"

James strode in and reached to lay a hand on Ted Kim's shoulder. Ted caught that hand.

"You crazy? You gonna let go?"

Ted did not answer. He only put strength into his grip. Gently, at first.

"U-ugh—"

Even that was more than James could bear. He had never been any real delinquent to begin with—just chaff. However lightly Ted squeezed, James was never going to be a match for someone who had only just awakened.

James's friends sensed that something in the air had gone wrong. One by one they got to their feet and swung. They had made a mistake. Ted had his body wrapped in mana, and all they earned for hitting him hard was fists that hurt exactly as hard as they had swung.

"Right. You ought to get hit too."

Ted flung James aside and turned on the rest of them. What he brought down was not merely a fist. It was violence. Overwhelming force. Flatnose's ribs went all at once, and the shock dropped him cold. Skinhead lasted a little longer, which only meant more of him broke before he blacked out.

And James—the one who had caused all of this.

"Y-you!! You awakened! You awakened, and now you're trying to get revenge!"

"Yeah. That's right."

"Heh heh heh. An awakened putting hands on ordinary people? You're finished! Don't you even know the Awakened Special Management Act?!"

He shrieked with everything he had, doing his utmost to stop Ted cold. But—

"You little shit. That's a long tongue you've got."

That part of the matter was already settled. James was the only one who didn't know it.

"You... no. Forget it."

Ted had once had a great many things he wanted to say to James when this moment came. Now he had changed his mind. Talking, he thought, would be a mistake. The sight was so pathetic he could feel his will to fight withering.

"Don't say another word. Just take the hits."

James tried to get something out, but Ted Kim gave him no room. There was only the one-sided punishment—blow after blow, and nothing coming back.

After the Mana Insensitivity treatment was announced, the world turned upside down, just as Curtis had said. Not long ago it might not have burned this hot. But the world was in the grip of the variant-dungeon crisis. Awakened were dying in droves, and the dungeons were on the verge of bursting.

Shin Haneul, the only solution anyone had, was held fast by the United States; spiriting him away was impossible. Now that another hope had appeared, it was only natural that the whole world came running with bundles of cash. All the more so because this was a matter that could strengthen a nation's power itself. No fortune was too great to spend.

"If it's money, I'll pay whatever you ask."

"Please—take my money first!"

And so they stood in line, waiting for a chance to speak with the United States. In the midst of it, a rumor began to spread.

Haneul Shin. Anyone could see it was the name of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the most famous awakened in the world. Thanks to that, Korean netizens went into an uproar.

But the moment the United States made its conditions for overseas sales public, those suspicions vanished without a trace. It had been him after all. And he gave the Korean government two choices.

Which of the two they chose rested in the hands of the Korean government.