Hunters (1)
December brought me back to America, where the country was wracked by problems entirely different from China's. Racial tensions sparking protests and riots, superpowered criminals committing heinous acts, an unstable economy with skyrocketing unemployment, and finally, a menagerie of biological disasters. With over four hundred areas declared federal disaster zones nationwide, stability was a distant dream.
Utah, my first return in nearly a year, was no exception. We had to unpack in Richfield, forty kilometers from the Trembling Giant, because the villa complexes we'd used last time had long since been devoured by the forest, reduced to ruins. The area around the Giant's forest—a radius of eight miles, about twelve point eight kilometers—was restricted to civilians due to fog that shifted unpredictably. The Federal Emergency Management Agency had issued a stern warning to citizens: do not approach the fog's core.
This was from the local paper one of my subordinates had fetched, headlining the front page. A massive aerial photo taking up half the page showed an eerie highland shrouded in opaque gray mist spanning several miles.
'Well, that figures. The forest has to endure the cold.'
December at this elevation was firmly midwinter. Even Richfield was blanketed in white snow on all sides. So, just like last January, the Giant had naturally blanketed itself in thick fog like a quilt—one that varied in thickness and shape with the day's temperature swings between night and day.
Most of the front-page article covered what I'd researched and anticipated before arriving. Flipping to the next page, a headline screamed from the top:
Sprawling across pages two and three beneath the headline were several photos, each captioned briefly. They were materials secured by a federal investigation team of ability users who had braved the dangers to enter. Most captured similar scenes: white fog, white snowfields, white-trunked poplars. The short visibility turned it all into a white canvas, making the photos feel like fantastical paintings.
Aside from buildings swallowed by the forest, occasionally twisted or bloated trunks, and a lake fully encircled by poplar clusters, the vistas looked unchanged from when I'd slain the devil worshippers. But the scale had grown dramatically.
Everyone was in a panic. To me, these were fears that would wilt soon enough. The forest, existing anywhere from eighty thousand to a million years, was unleashing its full potential, but once it amassed biomass befitting its mature soul's dignity, growth would likely slow dramatically. As I'd once told Kyung-tae, if the spirit is the tree, the body is the pot. Thus, the Trembling Giant was merely repotting to match its spirit—expanding biomass beyond necessity would dilute the spirit's density, imposing clear growth limits despite the ancient soul's quality. From the current situation and data, that limit was tens of thousands of tons at least.
Ding-a-ling, ding-a-ling—a small bell tinkled from the front door.
Security personnel entered, snow piled on their heads and shoulders. I folded the paper, waiting as Kyung-tae brushed off the snow and reached the living room by the fireplace where I'd been awaiting news.
“So, figured out why this place is trashed?”
Hong Young-sik, vice chief of the secretariat, flinched at my question. He stood like a punished student across from me. On the sofa before him sat Suyeon, her expression even more impassive than usual, maintaining a silence as chill as the outdoor air.
The cause? The lodging looked like some drunk driver had floored it straight through. The wooden walls were smashed open wide enough for a pickup truck, letting gusts carry snowflakes right to the hearth now and then. Other buildings en route had suffered similarly.
Kyung-tae glanced at Suyeon before speaking.
“Heard from the girl at the corner store it's the work of a T-Hog.”
“What's that?”
“T for thousand pounds, hog for pig—T-Hog. Some call it Thog, but T-Hog's more common. Sounds like T-Rex, fits better, she said.”
Another neologism born of the magic age. In these chaotic times, with new terms popping up and fading daily, it was hardly surprising.
“So, some awakened pig trashed the place?”
“A massive, heavy wild boar awakened beast, chased by equally superhuman hunters, rampaging through. Fresh incident from yesterday.”
Ah, that explains it. Bullet marks scarred the interior, streets littered with more and bloodstains—I'd wondered if ability users had staged an armed revolt in this small town. The heavy-caliber traces fit.
A rampage by circuit-bearing wildlife and hunters? Par for the course.
“Makes sense.” I nodded. “Suyeon, drop the anger. Not what we thought, right?”
“…My apologies.”
Hong Young-sik had teamed with HQ field support to secure suitable lodging here and assess environmental threats. I'd sent back eighty percent of the combat personnel from the port based on his report deeming high-intensity engagements unlikely. Dragging hordes wasn't always wise.
But finding the place rocket-blasted? No wonder his direct boss Suyeon was irked. Still, an overnight incident was forgivable—overlooked in checks.
Awakened megafauna smashing vehicles or homes? Barely newsworthy locally anymore, entering the realm of daily life and statistics.
“Sorry, Chairman.”
Hong bowed. “Tried other lodgings, but as reported, every hotel's booked solid—”
I waved him off. “Enough. Eat hearty, sleep sound—that's it.”
With body reinforcement incantation active, sub-zero chill was nothing. Caloric burn scaled with cold, but no issue. Night watch would lose sleep, but my circuit efficiency had soared. Low-occupancy spells ran even in sleep—vast progress from exhausting every ounce for basics.
'Almost a year since it started—ten days left.'
Sensing mana essence's flood: December 10th last year. Ten days to the magic era's first anniversary. Early months, I'd hoped it might fade; now, acceptance was heartfelt, not just rational.
“Hyungnim.” Kyung-tae called. “Circling the area, feels like we could station folks permanently now. So many randos camping, adding an office wouldn't raise eyebrows.”
“That bad?”
“Yeah. Check these first.”
He spread pamphlets from outside across the table. I'd dismissed them as junk mail, but closer look explained bringing them.
I picked one, scrutinizing.
“They're operating openly?”
“Packed three inns south. Plus uncountable flag-waving campers. Fun, right?”
“Why's this missing from the report?”
Hong flinched again, murmuring, “Threat assessment only—didn't see them as danger to you, hyungnim. Complying with police…”
Hmm. Rabid mutts at worst, but worth mentioning. I kept quiet—Suyeon's chill returning. Besides, Hong wouldn't know their history. Not on our prepped high-risk lists, no notoriety. Suyeon memorizing every fringe group was the anomaly.
Mistake, yes—but forgivable. His misfortune: two stacked. Safety-related omissions needed deeper digs, blacklist or not.
I eyed the pamphlet. A cheeky fairy character cradled Earth, beaming. Fairy-tale font below:
Eco-Anarchist Elves: Protecting Nature Through Necessary Destruction
The group's identity crystallized in the fairy's rifle. Self-styled elves, eco-anarchists believing sabotage and terror safeguard the environment. Contrary to myth, America's top terrorists weren't jihadists or white supremacists—but radical environmentalists and animal rights activists. ELF led them.
Born in Britain, infamous in America with larger membership. FBI deemed it a top domestic threat. They even had an action wing, Earth Liberation Force—ELF too.
Kyung-tae recognized them from lower-rank days, when he'd 'consulted' on long trips: pipe bomb crafting, demolition engineering, arson tips, evasion tactics. We weren't just sellers—we trained.
“Gained quite the following, huh.”
No other way FBI-listed terrorists could handout flyers openly.
Kyung-tae affirmed my mutter. “Makes sense. Poplar forest dominating, pigs with powers—beliefs turning religious.”
I unfolded the bifold. Inside:
"All life on Earth has begun to rage!"
"What life must sinful humanity lead from now on?"
"What wisdom do we need in this age?"
"The time has come to humbly heed the gospel of souls from great nature."
"We elves await new friends always."