Neo Seoul, the Modern Babel
Long ago, humans yearned to reach the gods.
So they built a towering spire.
A tower called Babel.
In the end, the tower crumbled under divine wrath, and humanity scattered.
It was a legend from the mythic age, now remembered by scarcely anyone.
Neo Seoul was the Babel of the present era.
This colossal city stood alone in the desert, embodying the ancient human aspiration to touch the heavens.
Within its walls rose skyscrapers from the pre-cataclysm golden age, piercing the sky with unyielding ambition.
Every district had flourished evenly, but the West District shone as the most dazzling and refined.
Neo Seoul boasted hyper-advanced civilization, yet the West District pushed the cutting edge even further.
Here, mechanized Awakeners outnumbered all others, driving unparalleled mechanical innovation.
Magic served only as a supplement; machines were the true backbone.
The West District researched and advanced technology for its mechanized Awakeners, outpacing every other sector.
These traits permeated Kim Hyun-soo's stronghold as well.
Exposed pipes and wires snaked through the metallic interior.
Kim Hyun-soo sat in a massive metal chair.
His appearance seemed ordinary at a glance, but much of his body was prosthetic machinery.
Masterful engineering made it nearly indistinguishable from flesh. No naked eye could tell machine from man.
His expressionless face and cold gaze evoked a metal mask.
Kim Hyun-soo stared into empty space.
His pupils glowed red.
Even his eyes were mechanical implants.
After a long silence, he spoke.
“Samjoko!”
A voice transmitted directly into his brain.
> Yes! Master.
“Report the situation.”
> Casualties stand at seventy-two so far. All had their mechanical bodies seized and scrapped. The stolen parts appear to have been dismantled and funneled into the black market.
“Seventy-two?”
> Now seventy-three with one more.
“The culprits are Scavengers, as expected?”
> Affirmative.
“Unbelievable. Seventy-three in just a few days to Scavengers? They must think we're pushovers.”
> Items from the White Bear Caravan have the worst synergy with mechanized Awakeners. Projections indicate escalating losses if unchecked.
“Response options?”
> Optimal solution: Deploy the Machine Corps to eliminate the White Bear Caravan directly.
“No! Moving the Machine Corps would give Jin Geum-ho the perfect excuse to intervene in the West District.”
Kim Hyun-soo's face twisted.
He feared nothing—except Neo Seoul's mayor, Jin Geum-ho.
He knew exactly how formidable and terrifying the man was.
Handing Jin Geum-ho a pretext for interference would spell disaster for the West District and himself.
He had no choice but to tread carefully.
“Alternatives?”
> Calculating.
The mechanical voice fell silent.
Kim Hyun-soo waited patiently.
Samjoko wasn't human.
It was a supercomputer born from chance and science.
In his early Awakening days, Kim Hyun-soo had stumbled into a dungeon.
Its boss: an S-rank Ancient Golem.
Far beyond the novice Kim Hyun-soo's capabilities.
Yet for some reason, the golem was on the brink of collapse. He barely felled it and claimed the spoils.
One was the golem's ego-core brain.
Initialized and blank.
Kim Hyun-soo studied it.
By bizarre circumstance, it fused with a research computer.
The merged brain revived as a supercomputer. He named it Samjoko.
Samjoko's core hummed a hundred meters underground in a bunker.
Every mechanized Awakener in the West District received a comms module linking to it.
Thus, Kim Hyun-soo monitored them like reading his palm from his chair.
Regulars got basic modules, but his elites received auxiliary AIs—Samjoko derivatives with linked egos.
These AIs optimized motion and energy, granting exponential strength.
Every mechanized Awakener craved one to become his inner circle.
But supply was limited; only a select few qualified.
As idle thoughts swirled, Samjoko spoke.
> Faction analysis complete. Alliance with Dongdaemun offers highest efficiency.
“Dongdaemun? That fanatic cult?”
> Affirmative!
“Of all choices?”
Kim Hyun-soo furrowed his brow.
Even as West District lord, Dongdaemun—led by Yohan—unsettled him.
Not their power, but their fanatic unity and zeal for their god.
Death-fearing machines found fearlessly faithful zealots exhausting.
Samjoko's odd recommendation puzzled him.
> Dongdaemun recently suffered setbacks, cornered despite minimal losses. Leader Yohan's authority wanes; they need a reversal.
“A reversal? Could be.”
> Put Dongdaemun upfront; we provide support.
“Save face for them, pocket the gains ourselves.”
> Correct.
“I like it.”
A smile finally cracked Kim Hyun-soo's face.
> Proceeding.
“Do it.”
> Executing Master's command.
Kim Hyun-soo nodded, sinking deeper into his chair.
Gazing out the window, he suddenly asked,
“Current count of pure Koreans remaining?”
> Three hundred seventy-two thousand four hundred nine, per latest data.
“That few?”
> At this rate, pure Korean bloodlines will vanish within a century.
“Not while I live. This land belongs to Koreans.”
Though mostly machine now, his soul and mind remained purely Korean.
Zeon eyed the metal shards on the table.
Remnants from the Dokkaebi Market explosion.
Five dead, twenty gravely wounded because of it.
The market had erupted in chaos.
Yuse-hui summoned merchants and Awakeners to devise countermeasures.
“One little thing turned everything to shit.”
“What's that?”
Briel's voice piped from the back room.
Zeon didn't turn.
“Another all-nighter?”
“Yeah!”
Briel rubbed her eyes.
Alchemy experiments often bled into dawn.
Her days and nights had fully flipped.
She snatched the fragment, inspecting it.
“Made from Spiny Trilobite shell.”
“You know it?”
“Yeah! Super rare. Mishandle it, and boom—no one uses it much.”
“Huh.”
“Spiny Trilobites aren't local. White Bear Caravan leak?”
“Likely.”
“Plenty of safe stuff out there. Why risk this?”
“Maybe on purpose.”
“On purpose? Why?”
Briel frowned curiously.
Thud thud!
Someone knocked.
“Who? Levin?”
Briel cracked the door cautiously.
An unexpected face: a stunning woman with long wavy blonde hair, sapphire eyes gleaming like embedded gems.
Briel scowled instantly. The woman missed it, asking timidly,
“Is this Zeon-nim's home?”
“Yeah. Who're you?”
“Ah! I'm Mandy. Here to see Zeon-nim.”
“Mandy?”
“Yes! Is Zeon-nim inside?”
Zeon approached at her voice.
“What brings you to my place?”
“Found it spot-on.”
“Come in.”
Zeon ushered her inside.
Briel glowered, displeased.
Mandy glanced around.
“Nice and spacious. Didn't expect this in the slums.”
“Slums have gems if you look.”
“Explains why you skip Neo Seoul. I'd live here too.”
“Shop around if you like it.”
“Later. Not why I'm here.”
“Figured.”
Zeon nodded.
Mandy wouldn't brave the slums for chitchat.
She met his gaze squarely.
“Here to ask Zeon-nim for help.”
“Help?”
“Yes! No one knows the slums like you.”
“Slum business, then.”
“Tracking Scavengers—lost them here. Need your insight.”
Neo Seoul born-and-bred, slums were alien to Mandy.
A labyrinthine hazard maze, unlike the orderly city.
Danger didn't scare her, but hassle did.
Zeon popped to mind.
Zeon asked,
“You're hunting Scavengers?”
“Yes! Trail led here.”
“Big trouble from them?”
“Huge. Casualties mounting; City Hall can't ignore it. Even deploying folks like me for extermination.”
“Got it.”
“I want this over fast. Better to wipe their base than pick them off.”
“They have a base? Thought lone raiders.”
“Confirmed network. Intel says desert hideout. So likely a meetup spot in Neo Seoul or slums.”
“Makes sense.”
Zeon nodded.
“Will you help?”
“Sure.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Whoa!”
Mandy gasped involuntarily.
Zeon's agreement came too easily.
But he had reasons.
Demian's wares harmed the slums too.
Ignoring it risked worse.
Zeon donned his wall-hung robe.
“Let's go.”
Briel blurted desperately,
“Me too!”