Meeting with the Hero (1)
Bernard Silverpoint, the human hunter and Walter's very own hammer, had already guessed the situation the moment he received the order. He was the one who'd personally witnessed Margaret running off in tears. Back then, he'd figured it was some complicated mess between the two of them and left it alone, but the instant Walter gave him the direct order to "hunt," he knew Jeong-jae must have done something unforgivable to her.
"Anyway, they always dump the annoying crap on me."
Bernard, with his lightly tanned skin and striking yellow-blonde hair, was Audrich Empire's greatest hunter—diligent and restrained, despite his looks screaming that he could pull off some seriously shady shit without batting an eye. Tracking Jeong-jae, who left a trail like breadcrumbs everywhere he went, and tying him up? Piece of cake.
"Whoa, shit, you scared the hell outta me!"
Jeong-jae, jolted awake from a nap in his academy dorm room, freaked out at the sight of his entire body trussed up like a hog in ropes. For a terrifying second, he wondered if the Demon King's forces had kidnapped him—but then he recognized the ropes as oddly familiar and let out a deep sigh.
"Hey, what the hell is this? Some kinda joke?"
Jeong-jae craned his neck slightly and eyed the hunter lounging on his bed. Bernard sheathed the dagger he'd been fiddling with and turned his gaze to Jeong-jae.
"Hey, buddy, you ever seen me tie someone up for fun?"
"Ugh, I was kinda hoping it was..."
Even back on Earth, Jeong-jae wasn't totally clueless about subculture stuff, and Bernard's vibe always gave him this weird mix of unease and dread. At least his tan wasn't fake. Small mercies, if you could call it that.
"The Hero told me to drag your ass in. What the hell did you do to get an order like 'make sure he can't bolt'?"
"Ah, damn it."
Jeong-jae twitched, trying to sit up on the bed, and Bernard helped steady him so he could perch there upright. Jeong-jae sighed heavily.
"What else did Walter say?"
"Not much, but I saw something with my own two eyes."
"Huh? What'd you see...?"
"Margaret the princess bawling her eyes out and running away, with you chasing after her. Couldn't catch her, obviously—girl's got legs. So, what'd you do? Spill it."
Jeong-jae ran through what might've happened in his head. If Margaret had bolted straight to Walter and spilled everything... he might've just been branded a suicidal nutcase and arrested for it.
"Look, it wasn't like I did anything that bad..."
Jeong-jae mumbled a half-assed excuse that didn't even qualify as one. Bernard waved it off like he couldn't care less, then hauled Jeong-jae to his feet.
"Hey, man, could you maybe loosen these ropes a bit? They're hurting more than I thought."
"I got orders to capture you without any chance of escape. How loose you want 'em? Mages like you can do jack shit with just your hands free. And you're the strongest of the bunch."
Jeong-jae remembered reading Romance of the Three Kingdoms back on Earth and thinking how dumb Lü Bu sounded, dragged before Cao Cao and whining, "Loosen the ropes." Today, he totally got the guy's pain. Getting grilled by Walter was bad enough, but these damn ropes digging into his arms? Pure torture right now.
"Fine. But you're not gonna parade me through the streets like this, right? Where's Walter?"
"Relax. The Hero's right here in the building. You slept like a baby while tied up, so he had plenty of time after getting my note."
"Ah, so Walter's in the dorm building."
Small relief. Getting dragged across campus by the continent's top hunter would've been humiliating enough—even if it wasn't all the way downtown.
He couldn't imagine why they'd go that far... unless he really was tagged as a suicide risk. Jeong-jae was a guy in his late twenties, with military service back home under his belt. He knew how much of a headache it was for commanders when someone in the unit seemed suicidal.
Jeong-jae meekly followed Bernard's lead down to the first-floor lounge in the dorm building. Walter sat there in a plush chair, legs crossed, looking seriously pissed. Spotting Bernard and Jeong-jae enter, he shot to his feet, glaring at Jeong-jae through his monocle.
"Uh, hey?"
"Hey? Not hardly. Thanks to you."
Walter shot down Jeong-jae's casual greeting with a curt snap. He adjusted his monocle, then gestured for Bernard to cut the ropes. True to his hunter skills, Bernard yanked a couple times and the knots fell away, freeing Jeong-jae.
Rubbing his numb arms, Jeong-jae took a seat across from Walter's chair.
"So, what's the deal? Why tie me up and haul me in?"
"You playing dumb? Testing how much I know?"
Jeong-jae just shrugged at Walter's jab. As if he had the silver tongue to outtalk the Hero.
"How much do you know?"
"Everything you said to Princess Margaret."
Jeong-jae sighed. Walter sighed right back. A heavy silence hung between them for a moment before Walter broke it.
"Why the hell would you even say something like that?"
"I figured Margaret would get it. Honestly, never dreamed she'd run off crying."
"That's a problem, sure—but there's a bigger one first, you idiot."
Walter adjusted his monocle again, face twisted in frustration. Jeong-jae tilted his head.
"What're you getting at?"
"Why the fuck were you planning a suicide mission that guts the enemy? And not just planning—you were waving it around like you were gonna pull it off. You really think that's a good idea? Even okay? Do you ever think about the people around you?"
"People die all the time, Walter. We don't conscript folks while fretting over their personal lives. We don't send ordinary people to die while babying their feelings."
"We... we don't send anyone to die. We send soldiers to kill the enemy. No general wants his men dead."
"Killing the enemy is my goal too. And if I can survive doing it, of course I want to. But that's not always an option."
"It was a 100% fatal spell. Not 70%, not 99%—one hundred percent! I wouldn't throw a comrade—or even a conscript—into a guaranteed-death op. Ever!"
Walter's words made sense, of course. Jeong-jae thought back to Earth's history: Imperial Japan's barbaric kamikaze tactics. Pilots strapped into planes not to drop bombs, but to ram enemy ships in suicide dives. Regular bombing runs carried shoot-down risks too, but what made kamikaze savage was the zero chance of return. No hope.
But wasn't this different? He wasn't throwing his life away for a handful of orcs or goblins.
"Look, back on Earth, I was just a regular guy. No powers, nothing special. Never faced death on a battlefield, but I was a grunt once. When you're just a speck in war's storm, those distinctions don't matter. The front lines are a meat grinder you're fed into, and you're just cannon fodder numbers. Honestly, I think I cared more about the people around me back there. That was... my world."
"I don't pretend to know your loneliness. Can't say I fully get it, but I'm not blind to it."
Walter murmured bitterly. Jeong-jae shrugged.
"Can't be helped. I'm an outsider."
"An outsider like my ancestor. Friend, if you were just some random stranger, maybe no one would miss you. But... you're a good guy. Fundamentally decent. And there are people here who already care about you. Love you, even. Just... look around a bit. Get it?"
"Haa..."
Jeong-jae was a little touched, but not quite ready to buy into it fully. Walter looked exhausted as he removed his monocle and set it on his knee. An awkward silence stretched out.
Walter slipped the monocle back on and closed his eyes. Jeong-jae realized he was peering into the future again. Moments later, the Hero's body jerked a few times, and he snapped his eyes open wide. Fumbling the monocle off in a panic, Walter shoved it into his pocket with a fearful expression.
"What the hell?"
Jeong-jae asked, sensing something off. Walter forced a smile that fooled no one and waved it away.
"Huh? Nah. Sometimes weird scenes pop up when I look ahead. No worries—it's not set in stone."
The words tumbled out disjointed, out of nowhere. Not like Walter at all. Jeong-jae pressed, bewildered.
"What'd you see? What's going on?"
"A massive explosion... one that couldn't happen without magic. Insanely powerful."
Jeong-jae leaned in. The Hero's words right after a vision were always crucial—like an oracle from Delphi.
"You saw an explosion like that?"
"A blast so huge it kicks up a mushroom cloud? One that vacuums the air around it, making flames shoot straight up? How much power does that take?"
"Insanely powerful. This world's gunpowder couldn't touch it."
What the hell had he seen? Walter was talking like he'd witnessed Jeong-jae casting it for real.
Walter pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed the cold sweat on his forehead.
"Hey, Park Jeong-jae."
"Yeah? What?"
"Bring it. Now. That scroll you developed—the Manhattan Project. Every copy, the originals too. Right here."
The "originals too" hit heavy. After Margaret shredded the copy, Jeong-jae had made five or six backups just in case. Not too many to risk leaks, but enough for safety. Hand over the copies, and Walter wouldn't notice...
"Don't even think about it. If I couldn't see through your lies, I wouldn't be Hero and Sage."
Walter donned his monocle again. The sharp glint in his eyes through the lens was scarier than staring down a rabid werewolf up close. Jeong-jae shuddered instinctively and nodded.
Moments later, he dashed to his study, grabbed every Manhattan Project scroll—copies and originals—and laid them out before Walter.