Namsan Seoul Tower

Every one of them said the same thing. The PR director ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had handed down orders concerning the Southeast Asia ESG work, and they wanted a thorough explanation of what it actually involved.

As I remembered it, requests to the Information Documentation Department were usually short.

Today was a different animal. Who they were, whether I'd rested well over the weekend, whether I might happen to have the material, and if so, when I might possibly be able to send it, and if I could, they would be ever so grateful—cushion phrases stacked on cushion phrases.

The PR director was a man who had survived being cast down and clawed his way back. His ability, in other words, was good enough that the owner had decided to trust him again. He was even being named as the group's fifth-in-command, the next head of Management Planning. With ranks one through four all held by the owner's family, it was an extraordinary seat for a salaried man.

"Executive clout really is something else."

I'd seen this coming, so the Southeast Asia ESG files were already prepared—Word, HWP, PowerPoint, and PDF, one of every kind.

Tat-tat-tat-tat.

I stayed in my chair and answered every note.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Work that would have eaten another person's entire morning, I cleared in three minutes. Honestly, even three minutes felt like a waste. I needed to get to Section D, and the morning's official duties were nothing but tidying and cleaning the archives anyway. A late reply on messenger would have an excuse built in.

I scrambled up. I must have been that pleased, because the shout tore out of me before I knew it.

"It's open!"

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Section D stood open. My guess—that it stayed shut over the weekend and opened only during weekday working hours—seemed to be holding. Which meant that vacation or not, I would still have to come into the office on weekdays.

I set my hand to the wall at once. On the cement, a drawing in the shape of a handle appeared.

Srrrrk.

The handle that had been a picture became a real one. I took it as naturally as breathing and opened the door.

Kreeeeak.

The pure-white, endless space I had seen before opened in front of me. Bookshelves of ancient wood stood in rows along both sides, and in the center a desk and chair waited, the Book of Truth laid neatly upon them. It was in my bag. When did it climb up there? The question didn't last.

I sat and opened the book at once. Past the first page, a second had appeared.

Sure enough, the instant I read the second page, I heaved my guts out.

"Huuuuegh—!"

Good thing I'd come without breakfast. Even as I kept retching, I was laughing. I'd realized a new use for the blue lines.

"Huuuegh— hahaha—! Huuuuuegh—!"

This time I vomited hard enough that it felt as if I might turn myself inside out. Only after what seemed like half a day of it did I finally stop.

"Hoo..."

The mess had vanished without a trace. I barely managed to push myself upright. There wasn't a scrap of strength left in me, and I staggered out on unsteady legs. I wanted to stay in the Tower of Magic a little longer, but instinct was pulling me back. Another minute in there and my whole body would have melted and become part of the tower.

"Haa... haa..."

Having crawled free at last, I dropped onto the floor and dragged my bag over, then put a ginseng root into my mouth.

Crunch... crunch...

I didn't even have the strength to chew. I worked my own jaw with my hand, ground the root down, and forced it down my throat.

Whirrrrl.

The blue lines around my heart, utterly empty, began to fill a little at a time. Once they would have filled in an instant, but as their capacity grew, the rate at which they rose had slowed to a crawl.

"I'll have to grow better ginseng."

Better ginseng meant a stronger high-nutrient supplement—or something that wasn't ginseng at all. Wild ginseng would beat the cultivated kind, and there might be things beyond even that. If ghosts existed, and dokkaebi too, then spirit medicines surely did as well.

"Hoo... I think I might live."

Only after I'd cleaned out every root in the bag did I manage to stand. My legs were still faintly trembling, but the rest of me was packed tight with excitement.

Until now, all I could do was fire the blue lines. From the Book of Truth, I had learned a second spell.

"Hoo."

I drew a deep breath and sent a blue line up into the empty air—not shot from my hand like a Laser Beam, but shaped into a blue shimmer and sprayed out like mist.

Shhhhhh.

Maybe because it was the first time, the mist spread slowly, about as fast as a grown man walking at a brisk clip. At last it reached the place I wanted.

I pictured pressing a switch inside my heart.

Click.

In the same instant my body seemed to lift with a buoyant rush, and then—

Thud!

I lurched as if I might pitch over on the spot, flung both arms out, and barely caught my balance.

An elevator stood in front of me. Section D and that elevator were more than fifty meters apart—some sixty steps for an adult man—and I had crossed it in an instant. If crossed was even the word.

This was Teleport. Instant movement. Unexpectedly, it cost far less than firing the blue line outright, about a fifth as much, so I could use it without holding back. The drawback was that it took a little time.

"Hoo."

I focused again and sent the blue mist upward. Up, and farther up. Not yet. Higher. Higher still.

Srrrrk.

And then, the moment I pressed the switch inside my body—

Whoooooosh!

A savage wind hammered my cheeks. My mouth fell open.

"Crazy..."

I was standing on a rooftop. Far off, Gwanghwamun and Gyeongbok Palace lay in view, and people shrunk to the size of ants hurried about their business while buses and cars honked and crept along the roads like turtles.

Behind me rose Namsan Seoul Tower, and beside it a brilliantly clear blue sky.

I was a step closer to the sun. A thrill ran through me of its own accord, and goosebumps lifted along my arms. Laughter broke out before I could stop it.

Magic. It really was the best.

"Whew..."

Teleport was wonderful. When my body lifted, it felt like the Viking ship at an amusement park—hauled all the way to the top, then dropped. The downside was how hard it gouged my stamina.

Earlier the distance had been short, so I'd been fine. The blue lines were carved away in great chunks, in proportion to how far I went. The door on the roof wasn't open, and I had to gather enough of the line to drop a single floor before I could get down at all. I'd nearly been trapped up there to starve.

Ding!

Barely propped against the elevator wall, I made it back to the Information Documentation Department on basement level five. Section D mattered, but if I wanted to use what I'd taken from it freely, growing my own body had to come first. The moment I sat, I started searching.

Tok-tok-tok-tok.

Nothing came up but wild ginseng. At times like this, the right move was an occult specialist.

Bzzzz.

I sent back a thank-you and immediately called the last page of the Joseon Book of Anomalies up in my mind. The contents listed several spirit medicines, ordered by how famous they were.

I ran back through the list. Most of them were things said to have been made by the royal court, or by renowned Taoist masters, which meant they might no longer exist—or, if ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they did, that someone was guarding them dearly.

"A medicinal spring, herbs like wild ginseng—those I ought to be able to find myself."

All I had to do was walk the woods looking for a deep blue line, or a deep yellow one. The nearest place was Gangwon, of course. Sokcho was under two hours by KTX.

"Gangwon's famous for being spiritually potent, so there ought to be plenty of ghosts I can use as high-nutrient supplements."

And here was another advantage of the Information Documentation Department. With no superior over me, annual leave didn't have to climb a separate approval line. The moment I submitted it, the approval went through.

Click.

I shut the computer off, grabbed my bag, and headed straight out. The first target was the Gwandong Snow-Peak Herb in Sokcho, Gangwon.