Chapter 278: Martial Alliance (1)
Chapter 278: Martial Alliance (1)
Whether he was unaware I was on the plane or simply wanted to strike a pose like some enlightened sage, that idiot Kong Jianping lingered on the wing for a moment before departing with a flourish of his robes just as the Management Bureau’s aviation unit arrived.
I have to give him some credit, though; he maintained his telekinesis until the very last second, ensuring a smooth handoff of control to the aviation unit.
Every so often, a thoughtless Hero will release their grip the moment they see the aviation unit, causing all sorts of disasters.
Of course, you can't entirely blame the Heroes.
Whether it’s psychokinesis, magic, or mechanical boosters, there aren't many individuals capable of precisely controlling an object with the mass of an airplane.
On the other hand, the Management Bureau’s aviation unit has to deploy multiple personnel for these situations. People with that specific kind of power are always in short supply.
To compensate for that shortage, the aviation unit is essentially a group of individuals with related powers scraped together to keep a plane aloft through collective effort.
This means they can’t just seize control the moment they arrive on the scene.
They need time to calculate and precisely adjust their individual outputs based on the object's current status and rate of descent. If the force acting on the plane suddenly vanishes, the object's state changes, forcing them to recalculate and recalibrate everything from scratch.
Anyone who knows what they're doing follows the standard procedure: wait until you're certain the aviation unit has taken over before cutting off your own power, just like Kong Jianping did.
They touch on this briefly in the basic Hero curriculum, but honestly, who remembers that? Most Heroes go their entire careers without seeing a plane fall out of the sky.
People forget the theory for their driver's licenses in a matter of weeks, and those have far fewer questions.
Of course, I remember it because I’ve dropped a few planes in my time, and I even hold a (provisional) Aerial Mass Control License.
That "provisional" tag is there because, during my final practical exam, I didn't exactly use the boosters to land the practice craft—I slammed it into the ground at full power and pulverized it.
By all rights, I should have failed, but the fact that they gave me a provisional license just so I could retake the test felt like a desperate admission that the aviation unit was short-staffed.
I’m confident I could pass if I tried two or three more times, but frankly, it’s a hassle.
Besides, the exam instructions only said to "place the object at the target location." It never explicitly said it had to be a "soft landing."
Regardless of my qualifications...
Thanks to the members of the aviation unit—who possessed the licenses I lacked—the plane managed to land safely.
The cheers that erupted the moment the wheels touched the ground were a given.
Amidst the chaos of everyone celebrating their survival, I spoke up.
"Pack your bags. We’re moving out fast."
I pushed through the crowd immediately.
The flight attendants were still instructing everyone to stay seated until the plane's safety was fully secured, but that only works when people are actually listening.
If they had established control from the start, it might have been different, but with everyone already exploding with joy and hugging each other, no one was going to listen to a word they said.
I took advantage of the gap and headed for the front.
The plane door was already open, likely to let the Bureau staff in.
My disciples followed me obediently with their bags packed, though their faces were full of confusion as if they couldn't understand why I was in such a rush.
"Sir! Please return to your seat..."
"Ah, I'm on official duty. Excuse us."
A flight attendant tried to block my way as I reached the door, but I nudged her aside with the Official Duty Permit attached to my Hero ID and left the plane.
The moment we stepped out of that giant metal box, the noise died down as if the previous commotion had been a lie.
Of course, the silence was filled by the mechanical sounds of fire trucks spraying water, maintenance teams arriving in trucks, and Bureau and airport staff driving around.
But at least here, under the open sky, it wasn't nearly as deafening.
A few people watched us leave the plane with curiosity, but no one tried to stop us, likely deciding it wasn't worth the effort.
We walked briskly away from the plane toward the airport terminal.
Once we were far enough from the noise, I heard a voice.
"Senior?"
"What?"
"Why did you want us to leave so quickly?"
I thought it was something serious.
"If we stay there, we'll get caught up in Bureau interrogations, health checkups, and all that nonsense. Give it a bit more time, and the media will be swarming the place."
Even in a backwater like this, there are always hyenas looking for a story.
It would be different if we’d landed in the middle of the Siberian wilderness.
"I suppose so, but we still have to get our luggage and go through immigration."
Ah, does A-bin not know?
"I already arranged for the luggage to be delivered directly to our lodging. As for immigration..."
I pulled out my Hero ID and waved it in front of her. Specifically, the page with the Official Duty Permit that Park Hyun-seok had personally issued.
"With this, we can bypass everything, just like when we boarded the plane."
It really is a Skeleton Key.
"Is that so...? It feels like we're getting too much special treatment... It's a bit..."
"What does it matter? If you're going to look at it that way, being a Hero is nothing but special treatment. For your information, we would have bypassed immigration even without this permit."
"Huh? What do you mean? Don't Heroes still have to go through immigration?"
A-bin looked at me with a puzzled expression.
I began to explain the unique nature of this location.
"A-bin. Where are we right now?"
"China... right? I'm not sure if it's South or North China, but..."
No. This is China, but it’s also a place that isn't China.
"Geographically, yes. But there's something more important. This is the Martial Alliance Headquarters."
"Um... I don't quite understand. Even if it's the Martial Alliance Headquarters, it's still China, so we should have to go through immigration..."
"That would be true if Chinese law applied here. But this place is a self-governing territory."
"Self-governing?"
"Yeah. Technically, Bureau branches and headquarters are treated like embassies. There are a few other places with autonomy besides this one."
The Martial Alliance Headquarters here, the Magic Society in Europe, and the Technology Research Institute in America.
The common thread between these three is that, unlike Bureau branches which have extraterritoriality, these organizations grew so large they became essentially small cities. Rather than dealing with the legal headaches of constant immunity claims, they were simply granted autonomy.
When you have researchers, Heroes, and administrators from dozens of countries gathered in one place, it’s a natural outcome.
Of course, there are secret zones like Oxymoron’s Operating Room in Eastern Europe, but let’s consider those exceptions.
"Hmm... that's quite interesting."
"Right? If you look at the details, the Bureau people are actually quite the thugs. They just don't talk about it much because they care about their public image."
While we chatted, we entered the airport.
We passed through a clean, modern terminal that didn't yet have that distinct Martial Alliance scent.
We finished all the procedures by simply scanning our IDs at the immigration desk and walked right through the airport without stopping for luggage.
As we did, several 'hyenas' with cameras rushed past us toward the gates.
"See?"
"...I'm glad we left early, just like you said, Senior."
"I hate reporters too! They ask about every little thing!"
A-bin was one thing, but I felt a sense of relief knowing we’d avoided the reporters that even Baek Si-hyun disliked.
We stepped out of the airport.
* * *
Outside the airport, the full panorama of the Martial Alliance Headquarters unfolded before us.
Mountains, plains, and buildings scattered throughout.
No matter how much they wanted to build their headquarters on a mountain, they weren't crazy enough to build the residential areas or the airport up there too.
Well, that idiot Kong Jianping might have tried, but the Administrative Staff probably would have beaten him sense into him to stop it.
The result was this landscape.
The mountains were dotted with anachronistic, old Chinese-style buildings nestled into the forests.
On the plains surrounding the mountains, modern buildings were spread out.
Since it was a small city located in a high-altitude region, there were few high-rise skyscrapers.
To summarize the view:
"It doesn't really feel like the Murim, Master!"
"I agree with Si-hyun. It's quite different from the image that comes to mind when you think of martial artists."
Exactly.
My disciples probably came here expecting the kind of Murim life you see in movies.
Wooden buildings in ancient Chinese styles, decorated in red and gold.
Or perhaps they expected something like a temple, like the Shaolin Temple.
But looking at the vast headquarters from the airport, while you could feel a bit of that atmosphere toward the mountains, the majority of the land was occupied by a modern city.
The buses and asphalt roads that greet visitors the moment they leave the airport are more than enough to disappoint them.
However...
" I understand why you're disappointed, but your impression will change once we get down there. It's a more interesting place than it looks."
It’s been a long time since I last visited, so the atmosphere of the Martial Alliance might have changed just as the landscape has.
But it probably hasn't changed that much. People who call themselves martial artists tend to be quite stubborn.
I didn't plan on going straight to Kong Jianping and demanding he show himself anyway. Given the accident, it would take time for the luggage to be delivered to our lodging.
A little sightseeing in the Martial Alliance wouldn't hurt.
With that thought, I led my tilting-headed disciples to hail a taxi.
It wasn't a standard taxi, but a large one using a mid-sized sedan. Normally, I would have yelled at my disciples to just run because of the cost.
But what is money? I have an Official Duty Permit now.
As long as I don't cross the line, the Bureau will cover any transportation costs as expenses.
As the three of us climbed into the taxi...
"Did you just get off the plane?"
"That's right."
"It seemed quite noisy over there. Did something happen?"
The curious taxi driver struck up a conversation.
"Nothing much, just a bit of engine trouble. Oh, take us to the main road entrance, please."
I didn't feel like explaining, so I gave a vague answer.
The driver seemed surprised that I was the one answering instead of my two towering disciples. He stared at me for a moment.
"Not a specific destination, just the main road?"
He quickly stopped staring and started the car, asking his business questions in a tone one would use with an adult.
"Yes, please."
I felt a bit better thanks to the driver's behavior, so I replied normally.
He hadn't uttered the forbidden word "child," nor had he reacted strangely to my appearance.
He probably had a lot of experience driving in the Martial Alliance.
If his usual passengers were martial artists, he would have seen plenty of people whose physical appearance didn't match their actual age.
"What brings you here?"
Even though I was in a better mood, I didn't want to chat with the driver any further, so I stayed silent.
The atmosphere in the taxi quickly turned cold.
"Our Senior—the one who just spoke—is here to meet an acquaintance. He said he'd train us while we're at it."
"I see. Well, if you're looking for a place to train, there's no place better than here."
Han A-bin quickly took over the conversation for me.
The cold air in the taxi was replaced by chatter once again.
The conversation was entirely superficial, so I didn't bother listening.
But they seemed to have plenty to talk about, as the chatter continued without pause.
The buildings that had looked far away from the airport gradually drew closer.
As they did, the scenery between the city streets began to come into view.
A bitter smile touched my lips.
It hasn't changed much at all.
Buildings that looked like ordinary shops were adorned with the names of various martial sects.
People walking the streets carried cold weapons at their sides.
In an open area that looked like an outdoor cafe, a blacksmith was hammering away at an anvil amidst leaping flames.
It was a landscape invisible from a distance, where it appeared to be just a modern city.
But once you saw what was happening inside that modern city, it was a place you could never mistake for the modern world.
I was finally facing the true face of the Martial Alliance.