Metamorphosis (2)
I had witnessed a tremor that crept in slowly from the outside, like waves of erosion. It was fundamentally different from a mere contest of circuit output and dominance that simply suppressed the mana field. If I had to describe it, it was closer to the concept of slowly unraveling and neutralizing.
The phenomenon progressed so slowly and subtly that I couldn't detect it while the priest stood still—only when I turned away and began to leave did I finally catch it. A faint haze forming at the edge of the insignificant mana field.
I suspected that this haze, this “neutralization,” was the true mechanism of the mycelium's magic.
‘Maybe I should have been observing a different subject.’
Since there were no changes in my own miniaturized mana field, nor in the reverse fields of my subordinates, it seemed this erosion only affected circuits etched into souls below a certain level. Anyone with decent ability would likely be immune.
But realizing this didn't lead to any immediate breakthroughs. The tangle of codes harbored by the mycelium kingdom remained as complex and inscrutable as ever.
This intricacy reminded me of the incantations from the Golden Age, which even now—with my circuit so highly optimized—were still difficult to wield effectively. Ancient wisdoms that even the Round Table Masters understood only in terms of effect, not principle. Not even certain if they were complete incantations.
The telekinesis and ignition spells I often employed were merely extracts from fragments of those codes.
How much effort must they have poured into dismantling and deciphering the codes within the mycelium kingdom?
Soo-yeon's voice pulled my mind back to reality.
“Boss.”
She bowed her head immediately when I looked her way.
“I'm sorry. You told me not to disturb you.”
“It's fine.”
It must be something important for her to disobey. “Speak.”
“It's a report from Vice Manager Park Mi-joo in Guangzhou. We've identified three Public Security officials suitable for the operation, but all three seem likely to lose their heads soon.”
“Purge?”
“For now, yes—but there's also a high chance they'll die at the hands of the Black Sea Party before that. All three are executives directing suppression and arrest operations against the Black Sea Party, and their assassinations and terror activities targeting such officials have surged. On top of that, public support for the Black Sea Party is growing exponentially, putting the military and Public Security in a bind.”
“Public support... They're throwing around a fair bit of money, then?”
“Yes. They're bolstering their image as righteous outlaws through funds and supplies, while invoking Mao Zedong's name to incite the masses. They're even framing their terrorism as revolutionary struggle for the people's liberation.”
“That's unexpected.”
Perhaps the Black Sea Party's leadership were genuine Maoists. A new possibility I hadn't considered before.
And it wasn't just a simple oversight—true Maoists in China had been eradicated long ago.
“Any confirmed links to the ‘Mao Gong’?”
Mao Gong was shorthand for the Mao Zedongist Communist Party. They worshipped the National Father Mao Zedong but had been branded a terrorist group by the Chinese government. The reason was simple: they denounced the current Chinese Communist Party as a ‘fake party,’ an evil imperialist fascist cabal. Their core criticism was that it divided the people—who should be equal—into classes, allowing a few to exploit the many, creating a reactionary state.
The exploitation of the people was real, and ideologically backed by the National Father, so the Party's only option was brute force suppression and smothering it with propaganda.
Of course, the Mao Gong weren't exactly sane either. Idiots who claimed even the notorious Cultural Revolution was righteous.
But even a broken clock is right twice a day.
Soo-yeon partially affirmed my question.
“No direct connections found, but they've quoted sections from Mao Gong manifestos several times. For example, that the Communist Party stripped workers of leadership and labor rights, driving countless into unemployment, thus justifying rebellion...”
She cited a few more passages, then added cautiously.
“It's circumstantial at best.”
“I know.”
Righteous rebellion becomes revolution. Even if it's just a pretext, they're clever thieves with heads that turn well.
If this were an operation planned by foreign powers, they'd have struck the Party's vital spot perfectly.
Based on ongoing intel analysis, the odds of the Black Sea Party being an internal faction plot were dwindling. Political winds were blowing lethally across all factions.
China's political sphere was mired in chaos impossible to predict even one step ahead.
“What factions do these Public Security executives belong to?”
“One's from the Xi faction via Tsinghua clique; the other two are presumed Shanghai gang.”
The Xi faction followed Chairman Xi Jinping; Tsinghua clique was an elite network bonded by alma mater. Since Xi was Tsinghua alumni, most of its mainstream belonged to the Xi faction.
“How much time do you think these executives have left?”
“It's tight. They could all vanish today without surprise.”
“Next opportunity?”
“Hard to say. Existing guanxi are in crisis en masse. Without guanxi, scouting suitable targets is tough, high-level intel access is limited, and building new ones is impossible until the political situation stabilizes. So if you don't want to miss the chance, you should set foot in China as soon as possible.”
Hm... It made sense that forging new guanxi would be difficult for a while. The main—essentially only—way to build guanxi with high Party officials was bribes, but with the corruption crackdown, who would dare accept from someone not deeply connected? It could turn from corruption to treason charges.
After all, the Party's stance was that foreign powers backed the Black Sea Party.
Bribery at this juncture would make fine scapegoat material for the central Party to parade before the people.
“But...”
Replaying the conversation, I pointed out one oddity.
“You said this was Vice Manager Park Mi-joo's report? What about Section Chief Seo Gapsu? Weren't they out there together?”
Trivial, but reports normally came under the responsible party's name.
“I was about to mention that—”
Soo-yeon paused briefly, lowering her gaze to deliver the obituary.
“Section Chief Seo is dead.”
“What?”
Stunned by the unexpected news, I pressed rapidly.
“Dead? Gapsu? How?”
“While entertaining Guangzhou Public Security Deputy Secretary Gao Xusen, they were ambushed by armed forces presumed Black Sea Party. He threw himself over a grenade that rolled indoors, saving everyone else.”
“...Is Gao Xusen important?”
“Nephew of Guangdong Discipline Inspection Commission Director Gao Ninghui. Besides deputy secretary of the city Public Security Committee, he also holds 1st-grade police inspector overseeing the Patrol Police Detachment. Consider the intel on those three executives came from this guanxi.”
Patrol meant patrol. Equivalent to a provincial police superintendent in Korea, but in China—where the army was the Party's army and police the Party's police—Party cadres doubled as Public Security executives.
“This isn't fun at all.”
An unwelcome loss. Soo-yeon bowed silently at my words.
Seo Gapsu had pioneered the organization's China operations before systems fully solidified, even before the international division for overseas ventures and smuggling was formed. Not a founding meritocrat, but a subordinate devoted to my business for years.
Lacking talent for higher roles, he'd lingered as section chief, But his strong patience and steady character made him well-suited for client relations and sales network management.
I'd picked him up from Mapo Bridge. On the secretary chief's recommendation, I'd gone myself.
The booze stench from that day lingered in memory's corner. The scent of a family man gripping the railing, staring at the flowing water in anguish.
Then or now, his two-year life insurance—renewed before this trip—paid out even for suicide.
“Any will?”
“Legal team's holding it. Updated before departure.”
“Two sons and a daughter, right?”
“Yes.”
“Ages?”
“Eldest twenty-one in the military; second daughter and second son eighteen and sixteen.”
“They close?”
“Not sure. Shall I check?”
“No need. Handle the funeral, execute the will, divide the inheritance. Cover scholarships too. No skimping on body recovery and transport.”
Here, inheritance included the organization's death benefit. Gapsu's notarized will would name one of my aliases as guardian—a method I encouraged for morale and loyalty management.
Fair will execution and generous compensation sharpened loyalty's edge—a fine whetstone.
That was my role's limit. I'd fulfill guardian duties strictly until the minors reached adulthood, managing their shares—but post-inheritance, their lives were their own.
No spare bandwidth for meddling anyway.
Even so, my mood soured. And that sourness irked me further.
The loss. What else?
With blood winds raging in Chinese politics, many established guanxi would die or get purged, becoming useless. Limiting to Guangdong, no one matched Gapsu for recovery.
I'd lost that talent...
After a brief silence, Soo-yeon asked.
“What will you do?”
“About?”
“...China.”
Ah, right. We'd been discussing that when Gapsu came up, derailing me completely.
What to do? Gazing at the mycelium-dominated forest, I weighed opportunity costs.
One scale held the “erosion” phenomenon uncovered thanks to the mushroom-worshipping priests. Code unextracted yet.
Erosion's code for neutralizing mana fields could let me revise circuits of subordinates now beyond my reach. Endless other uses too.
The other: massive war chest acquisition; with luck, guanxi to China's national intel network.
As with the Trembling Giant, decoding erosion would only grow harder with time.
Hesitating, I decided.
“Find a flight departing tomorrow afternoon.”
“Yes.”
Soo-yeon bowed again.
One day ahead. Maximize observing, recording, analyzing the mycelium souls in that time.
Whether wise, I couldn't say—but missing the moment was worse than a wrong choice.
I shook off distraction, focusing on the task at hand.