The Scapegoat's Fall
4:55 PM, Anyang Command Headquarters.
"You can't do this!"
Shin Jin-gwang slammed his fist on the table, shouting. But he quickly realized his mistake and bowed his head.
"...I'm sorry, Your Excellency!"
- It's fine. I understand how you feel. I suddenly declared the operation a failure without so much as a word to you, the on-site commander.
It was a unilateral declaration from the president alone. President Seon Ui-cheol had announced the operation's failure without consulting the field commander, Shin Jin-gwang, even a little.
Of course, Shin Jin-gwang wasn't in a position to question the president about it. But he'd learned of the operation's failure and termination through media reports.
Seon Ui-cheol adjusted his glasses.
- But look here. We've lost too many heroes already. Isn't that right?
Shin Jin-gwang clenched his fists. Two A-rank heroes, six B-rank heroes, and fourteen C-rank heroes. A total of twenty-two heroes had either lost their lives or gone MIA—missing in action during battle.
Excluding the confirmed twelve deaths, the remaining ten missing were as good as dead. And the number of injured heroes needing immediate rest was countless. Among them were the two S-rank ability users who formed the core of their forces: Hwagwon and Seolhwa Gongju.
Seon Ui-cheol continued in a somber tone.
- I can't afford to lose any more heroes. Not because of my stubbornness.
"Your Excellency! Take it back. It's because of my shortcomings!"
- No. You've done more than enough. A commander who doesn't trust his heroes and abandons the command post. You've smeared shit on the honor of the Republic of Korea. Am I wrong?
"......."
Shin Jin-gwang couldn't respond. In the end, Seolhwa Gongju had successfully blocked the enemy villain's attack. But in the process, it had exposed all of Shin Jin-gwang's ugliness.
A commander abandoning his subordinates and fleeing first. The public was still criticizing him harshly for shirking the responsibility he should have borne.
- I understand your actions. You were scared. But you shouldn't have done that. You should have evacuated everyone and died right there. Isn't that the responsibility of a commander?
"I have no face to show."
Shin Jin-gwang hung his head.
- Yes. So what now? Ever since I announced the failure, public opinion has been in an uproar. They say the incompetent commander abandoned the post and ran, making innocent heroes suffer needlessly.
"I'll take full responsibility."
- Responsibility? Heh heh heh.
Seon Ui-cheol chuckled lowly.
- That's only possible if you're in a position to bear it socially. Isn't the Minister of Monster Countermeasures position that heavy?
Seon Ui-cheol took a sip of tea to moisten his mouth.
- Still, I'll give you a chance to fulfill your final duty.
"......!"
Shin Jin-gwang instantly grasped the meaning. It meant he was to fall on his sword.
- Take all the disgrace with you. Go live on some island in the South Sea—no one will recognize your face there. I'll make sure your family is well compensated.
".....Understood."
- Then go.
Click.
The president's call ended. Trembling with betrayal, Shin Jin-gwang slammed the table with his palm.
Bang!
His palm stung from colliding with the metal desk, but his heart hurt more.
"Damn it, damn it!"
It was an operation everyone swore even an elementary school kid could win. Yet Shin Jin-gwang had been powerless and ended up as the scapegoat for defeat.
If he'd commanded with all his ability and still lost valiantly, public opinion might have sympathized: "They lost, but fought well," or "We saw a chance to reclaim Seoul." But now, everyone knew. Shin Jin-gwang's reckless command and the resulting conflicts with the heroes.
The hero fandom already treated him worse than a death row inmate—worse than life imprisonment.
There was strangely no word about the mysterious enemy.
"......Hoo."
Shin Jin-gwang stood up. A Pine Tree Unit hero beside him pointed to the door with eyes full of contempt.
Screeech.
The door opened. Reporters waiting in the makeshift briefing room perked up like meerkats.
Step. Step.
Shin Jin-gwang walked to the podium. In those short ten steps, his senses swirled.
The reporters who'd fled in a panic at his orders. Now, buoyed by the president's public apology, they were ready to tear him apart.
Thud.
The weary Shin Jin-gwang stopped at the podium. As he opened his mouth to speak, flashes burst and questions poured in.
"Minister! What do you think was the cause of this operation's failure?!"
"Did you know Hwagwon had a chronic illness?! What's the specific reason Lee Seung-hyung collapsed?!"
"What do you say to the families of the fallen heroes?!"
Questions masked as accusations rained down. The reporters knew the operation had unfolded bizarrely, but desks and government pressure pushed them to hound Shin Jin-gwang.
Witch hunt. This press room was the pyre for the defeated general.
Shin Jin-gwang blinked at the illusion of blue flames flickering up his legs.
"Well, that...."
As Shin Jin-gwang opened his mouth, he glanced at the hero acting as security, but the hero ignored him.
With no interruption, the reporters grew bolder.
One question pierced his nerves amid the barrage.
"Even though Seolhwa Gongju Seok Ha-rang successfully blocked the enemy's attack, why did you abandon the command post and flee?!"
His blood boiled. He nearly exploded like he would with his unit, cursing them. You ran too!
But the cameras behind captured every expression for live broadcast nationwide. Shin Jin-gwang could only bow his head.
His only role left was a puppet parroting answers.
"I, Shin Jin-gwang."
The reporters quieted.
"Deeply regret my responsibility and will resign from the position of Minister of Monster Countermeasures—"
Splat.
Something reeking disgustingly flew and hit Shin Jin-gwang's head. It fell to the floor with a thud—a rotting monster corpse.
Splat.
Another monster corpse flew at him. Shin Jin-gwang didn't dodge, letting it smash into his chest.
A woman behind the reporters vented her rage. Flashbulbs glinted off the engagement ring on her finger.
"You bastard! My Ki-seong died because of your shitty command! And all you do is resign?!"
"Drag her out!"
Heroes seized the woman and removed her from the briefing room. Reporters recalled she was a hero deployed to Gangnam.
"I."
The reporters turned back to Shin Jin-gwang.
"Will take full, complete responsibility."
That was all Shin Jin-gwang could say.
* * *
5:30 PM, Yeouido C Hotel Room.
"......Ah."
Ga-eul opened her eyes. She wanted to stay sunk in the cozy mattress enveloping her body, but the odd sensation at her pelvis snapped her awake.
"Ah, this, damn it."
Curses flooded her mind, but Ga-eul barely swallowed them.
Her bloodstained clothes had been removed by someone; she wore a fluffy robe now. The problem was the back, torn long from where her tentacles emerged.
Without tentacles covering it, her rear was fully exposed.
"This isn't some erotic game...."
Ga-eul lifted one tentacle strand. If it tapered like a fox tail, maybe, but it was uniformly thick like a cat's tail, except at the tips.
"Can I even grab it by hand?"
Ga-eul gripped the tentacle. One hand couldn't even meet thumb to middle finger around its girth. She recoiled in disgust and let go.
"Still...."
Ga-eul focused her mind on the tentacles. All nine obeyed her will. They stood rigid, undulated like waves, twisted like wringing a rag.
Ga-eul cautiously wrapped one around the neck of a wine glass on the wall display. It lifted like a human hand. Even upside down, it didn't drop.
"...Should I be happy or sad about this."
If she couldn't change it, she'd accept fate. Ga-eul slapped her cheeks with both hands to snap out of it.
"Right. It's a tail. Better than tentacles sprouting from my back like some frog."
Ga-eul stood before the mirror. The tentacles dominated, but other changes were stark too.
Her skin was pale to the point of ghostly. No red tint anywhere—blood drained from her veins, so no flush possible. Hair, eyebrows, pupils—all silver-gray.
Ga-eul used a tentacle to remove the mask from her head and cover her face. An eye mask over the bridge of her nose. The last remnant left on stage after the masquerade ball ended.
Ga-eul placed her hand over the mask, lost in thought.
Thud thud thud.
Rough knocking echoed from outside. Ga-eul shoved the tentacles inside her robe, straightened her clothes, and opened the door.
"Don't you know pressing the bell is polite?"
"I'd have to have stayed in a hotel before... ahem!"
Deok-bae cleared his throat awkwardly and averted his eyes. Ga-eul's chest asserted itself boldly through the robe gap.
"......."
Ga-eul crossed her arms to cover up. She'd pulled the torn back together with tentacles, forgetting the front.
Ga-eul glared at Deok-bae sullenly.
"What's up? Where are we? Why a hotel all of a sudden?"
"Phoenix put your passed-out self to bed here. She dressed you in the robe, and I brought clothes to change into."
Deok-bae handed over the clothes.
Having awakened as an ability user and become a kaijin via an S-rank monster core, Ga-eul instantly recognized the mana flowing from the fabric.
"This robe's woven from mana?"
Mana threads densely interlaced. Not mana-coated thread—pure mana, finer than hair, woven stitch by stitch into cloth.
Ga-eul took the clothes from Deok-bae. With hands covering her chest, two tentacles peeked out to receive them.
"Where'd she get something like this?"
"...She made it herself."
Deok-bae's expression soured at the tail emerging from Ga-eul's back. Shock, horror, disgust. But clearest was pity, sympathy.
Whoosh!
A tentacle whipped past Deok-bae's eyes like a lash. He widened his eyes in surprise at the sudden strike.
"No next time. Watch it."
Ga-eul warned and turned back into the room. Deok-bae chuckled blankly, stunned.
"Now even that's stronger than me?"
Thirty minutes until Ga-eul emerged changed. Deok-bae silently stared down the firmly shut door.