Chapter 243: Butterfly Effect (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 243: Butterfly Effect (3)
Antarctica was chillingly cold.
Crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch.
“……”
All of us from Joaquin Academy kept quiet. It wasn't as if anyone had explicitly suggested it; we had simply fallen silent as though by tacit agreement.
Because…
“Haaa…”
Medea let out a sigh so deep it seemed as if the icy ground would cave in with every step she took. Her breath leaked sorrowfully through her teeth.
Indeed, that was the reason the female secretary, the male escort, and I kept our mouths shut. Our silence was out of consideration for Medea, whose face was burning with shame.
I stole a side-glance at her. Medea was swallowing down words that were bubbling up to her throat.
Even as a total orphan, I can sympathize with her. If my parent showed up wearing a penguin suit after decades apart…
I shifted my gaze forward again. Watching the waddling rear end of the penguin gave me a strange feeling.
To think that eccentric guy is the President of the Hero Association…
Victor Poison.
I knew about him through Ryozo, who had mentioned him a few times.
—The Association President is a mythical figure.
A brief yet impactful evaluation. It was rare for Ryozo to display genuine respect, so I remembered it vividly.
—If the President decides to act, the international situation will shake.
Ryozo had added that it wasn't a figure of speech, but a literal fact.
Joaquin Academy, the International Union, and the Hero Association. In reality, this world was divided among these three major powers.
The separation of powers—the most effective way to prevent power from tilting toward one side.
Among these three, two of the factions—Joaquin Academy and the International Union—were an educational institution producing heroes and a cooperative body coordinating diplomacy and global affairs, respectively.
As such, neither Joaquin Academy nor the International Union had a single supreme ruler. Even the Academy Principal and the Secretary-General were mere temporary representatives; calling them absolute heads would be misleading.
However.
—The Hero Association is different.
Why? Because one man had practically built the entire Association by himself.
By a similar token, Joaquin Academy was founded by Balor Joaquin, but he was a person from seven hundred years ago—a figure of history.
Furthermore, the International Union was literally a 'union' bound by mutual interests. The very existence of a single absolute founder contradicted the purpose of a union.
For these reasons, among the three powers, only the Association had a clear, absolute head.
I didn't need to spell out who that was. That's right—it was that penguin.
Victor Poison had created the algorithm to quantify Hero Points (H.P.). He had also built the data centers required to store that vast amount of information.
A whopping seventy years ago.
Besides this, the Association's computing system, the division of management across Association branches, and more—the list of things birthed by the Association President's hands was endless.
Though now he has penguin flippers instead of hands.
Crunch, crunch.
The cute little footsteps echoed softly in my ears.
How would Ryozo react if she saw the person she respects wearing a penguin suit?
I was intensely curious to see what face she would make.
After another ten minutes of walking, the Association President stopped abruptly, standing firm like a roly-poly toy.
“Let's see, it should be somewhere around here.”
He gently set the penguin hood down beside him. Kneeling down, he brushed away the icy snow with his flippers. He looked just like a penguin pecking around for food.
“I spent a few weeks living among the penguins, so my memory of the spot was getting hazy. Ah! Here it is, found it!”
One of his flippers sank deep into a specific point on the frozen ground. Dusting off his snow-covered knees, the Association President stepped back three or four paces.
Right at that moment—
Rumbllllle…!
The Antarctic continent shook. An avalanche broke out on the snowy mountains behind us. The male escort and the female secretary tumbled onto their backs.
An out-of-nowhere earthquake. The male escort looked up.
“W-what is this?!”
A colossal shadow was rising behind the Association President. Due to the thick icy mist, it took some time to discern what it was.
Whoosh.
The wind blew from south to north, driving the low-hanging icy mist northward.
The female secretary murmured with dazed eyes as an icy citadel fully revealed itself.
“In such a wasteland… how…?”
The icy citadel was massive in scale. Its height and majesty rivaled St. Peter's Basilica in the Vatican. Geometric snowflake patterns and ice sculptures were carved across its walls. Calling it a simple base would be a disservice to its high artistic value.
“Welcome.”
The Association President turned around and smiled at us. He proudly raised his flippers high into the air.
“This place, Angel Factoria, welcomes you!”
His penguin-suited body formed a Y shape. It was a holy posture, almost like praising the sun.
* * *
The Association President led the party inside.
“My, my, letting guests into my home… this is a first in my two hundred years of living.”
The male escort gasped in awe.
“Good heavens…”
The exterior had been magnificent, but stepping inside left them utterly speechless.
“Every single machine in here is at least thirty years ahead of its time, isn't it?”
The male escort's eyes sparkled bright.
“You seem to have an eye for these things.”
The Association President smirked. The escort immediately nodded.
“I have a STEM background, sir!”
“Finding a job must be easy then. Though these were just made for fun to pass the time, so there's not much worth staring at.”
“Nonsense, Mr. President! Just 'for fun'? If even a few of these were revealed to the world, it would turn everything upside down!”
“I couldn't care less whether the world flips or turns upside down. But since you like them so much, take one on your way out. As a souvenir from Antarctica.”
“R-R-Really…?! Mmph—!”
As the male escort made a fuss, the female secretary clamped her hand over his mouth. Then she quietly gestured with her eyes toward a certain direction.
“Read the room, will you?” the secretary whispered. The escort's Adam's apple bobbed up and down.
Click, clack.
High heels struck the ground harshly. The tyrant Medea was currently having her patience severely tested.
To think I wondered where he'd been hiding for over twenty years…
Who could have guessed he was in a polar region like this? There was a good reason why not even a glimpse of him could be found despite searching every corner of the nation.
I want to give him a piece of my mind, but…
Medea stopped at merely glaring at the back of the President's head.
Victor Poison was an eccentric—an oddball with a screw, or several, loose.
Yet Medea had no choice but to admit that Victor Poison was a transcendent genius.
Dad's achievements are evaluated as having advanced human civilization by a century.
Victor's footprints were monumental. He had provided the key clues that enabled humanity to launch satellites and peer into space. Yet he had never stood on the front lines, insisting on living a reclusive life. He didn't care even when the world slandered his irresponsibility. Victor was someone unbothered by worldly affairs.
After everything Dad did for them…
Medea's eyes held a mixture of love and hate as she looked at Victor. A father she resented yet couldn't help but respect. Living for over two hundred years with an already brilliant mind—it was hardly surprising if his sanity had withered away.
The Poison family historically had many who took their own lives. Ancestors, feeling the emptiness of existence, had relinquished their given lifespans. Because of that, only three remained today.
That was why she couldn't harshly criticize either her nuisance of an elder sister or her father waddling around in a penguin suit. Crazy as they were, the two of them were her only remaining family.
I have to keep my own sanity intact.
Medea let out a quiet sigh, looking at the back of Victor, who had turned into a madman. The joy and bitterness of a father-daughter reunion—joy and sorrow collided in her mint-colored pupils.
Soon, they stepped into a single space. It was Victor's personal laboratory.
“Oh…!”
The ceiling was a round dome, packed with thousands of monitors. Wires jutting out between screens sparked with sharp snap-snaps. Papers were scattered messily across a round table in the exact center of the laboratory.
“Everyone, take a comfortable seat.”
Sitting at the head seat, the Association President unzipped the rest of his penguin belly. Black-clad legs poked out from the opening. He was wearing a tight black bodysuit underneath.
Victor suddenly asked Kang Geomma:
“Isn't it truly ironic?”
Kang Geomma asked back, wondering what he meant out of nowhere.
“What do you mean?”
“I know you took miraculous new drugs worth 2 billion won a tablet just to come to Antarctica. But look. Penguins endure the extreme cold with nothing but their bare bodies.”
“……”
“We humans are fragile yet arrogant creatures. Instead of adapting to nature, we try to find ways to overcome it. But that's precisely why we've survived until now. We refuse to lose to anything. Not to nature, nor to demons. Anyway, hup—finally got it all off!”
Having finished undressing, Victor stretched. His movements were remarkably flexible, unbelievable for someone two hundred years old.
Taking a moment to catch his breath, he began to speak.
“Heavenly Sword, let me show you the gift I promised right away. I don't want to waste a young man's time.”
Kang Geomma nodded with a lukewarm expression. The timing of receiving it didn't matter. Getting it at all was what mattered.
“I like how quick you respond.”
Victor snapped his fingers. The screens filling the walls and ceiling lit up all at once. Static buzzed across the displays.
“I received word through Association staff. I heard you visited the 'Nephilim Shrine' recently.”
Kang Geomma's face hardened. He knew that much? Well, it wasn't something he needed to hide anyway.
Kang Geomma nodded.
“Yes. That's right.”
“Did you meet the priest?”
“I did… meet him.”
“4th Corps Commander Permush will soon break through the Gate and invade the human realm. And so you visited the shrine to ask the reason why. That's what was reported to me—is that correct?”
Kang Geomma answered calmly without flinching.
“Correct.”
“Then you must have heard a bit about Permush.”
“Only that he has a peculiar hobby of collecting human flesh and bone.”
“It seems you haven't heard the reason why.”
“Well, isn't it just because he's a lunatic?”
“Haha, my boy. In all my years, I've never seen a human call a Corps Commander a lunatic! An object of absolute terror!”
“Didn't you just say it yourself, Mr. President? That humans are great because they overcome. To me, a Corps Commander isn't an object of terror. Because I've already overcome them.”
“I expected much when they called you an epoch-making hero, but you exceed my expectations. Your skills are obviously outstanding, but above all, your mettle is magnificent. Those indomitable eyes fear nothing.”
Victor chuckled amiably and crossed his legs. Backlit against the screens, a dark shadow fell over him.
“However, Permush is not a Corps Commander you can face with mere mettle alone. Especially if it's Permush who personally forces his way through the Gate.”
“…Is he that strong?”
“He uses Earth-attribute magic to create 'Golems.' Human bones and flesh are used as the scaffolding for them. True to his title of Corps Commander, he commands a literal army.”
Hearing this, Kang Geomma clicked his tongue. A battle of numbers was his least favorite type of fight. They could gather a mass of heroes on their side as well, but…
There will be massive casualties.
No wonder Kuarne, that gigolo-looking bastard, had been so triumphant. Kang Geomma gritted his teeth.
“As I said, humans are fragile,” Victor spoke softly.
“Permush's army of golems will tear apart even the strongest heroes. It's only natural—golems are made of stone, while humans are relatively soft.”
Victor gestured into the air like a conductor. The dense grid of screens combined into a single massive display, broadcasting a video.
“……!”
Every single person trembled, from their eyes down to their lips.
“Do you know what's great about Antarctica?”
Amidst everyone's horror, Association President Victor shifted his crossed legs. He rested both hands majestically on the armrests and spoke.
“It's a natural freezer. Things never rot even if left out in nature, and it's so cold that it automatically sterilizes everything.”
Victor raised a thumb and gestured over his shoulder.
“Thanks to that, even after thousands of years have passed, those things haven't decayed and remain just like that.”
Hundreds of figures captured on the monitors.
“Humans are arrogant—enough to modify those things into cyborgs and put them to work.”
They were the mortal enemies of the Ancients—the very beings Kang Geomma had slaughtered.
“This is the gift I prepared for you.”
They were Angels.
An incidental flap of wings had returned as a tempest.