Chapter 107
Chapter 107
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 107
Chapter Title: Pale Satellite
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A week had passed since dealing with Park Seokhyeon. In that time, Ian had cleared out his studio apartment and signed a contract for a standalone house.
Of course, he bought it outright.
A normal house would have been impossible to purchase even with billions, but the area had been razed by a massive fire once, and ghosts frequented it besides. That kept the price dirt cheap. Thanks to that, Ian could buy it without any burden.
What was there to hide?
It was that same neighborhood he’d visited for the library commission. With hardly any people around and houses standing empty everywhere, Ian had no reason not to move there. And with the price so low, finding a better deal was practically impossible.
A fire? Didn’t matter. Ghosts? Even better. He was short on materials anyway, so he hoped they’d show up.
He knew Burnt Ghosts ranked among the most dangerous spirits in Buddhism. But people were scarier than ghosts to begin with, and mages scarier still than people. So ghosts needed to show mages a little more respect.
What happened to those who didn’t was proven firsthand by Lee Seo-ah, the Ghost-Type Pokémon Master residing in Busan.
‘Come to think of it, didn’t she say she was coming up to Seoul? Wonder when.’
Ian had the thought pop into his head as he neatly stacked the luggage he’d brought into the house.
Storage units full of alchemy items, boxes of bullets, money bags, and so on.
Items he could carry himself—and had to—were scattered across the spacious living room. He hadn’t brought the big stuff yet, like the fridge or wardrobe.
They were probably loaded onto a moving truck by now. Nothing important inside, so even if strangers handled them, it was no big deal. Ian shoved the drawer he’d brought aside with his foot, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and stepped out of the house.
That’s when he ran straight into Cecilia, who was carrying a computer. She looked up at him while hugging a PC tower as big as her torso.
“Where should I put this?”
“End room on the first floor. There’s a white desk—set it there.”
“Okay.”
Cecilia nodded and strode inside. Ian stared at her bright golden blonde hair, then headed to the parking lot and lit a cigarette.
The reason Cecilia was helping with the move was nothing special. Ian had just asked.
For whatever reason—maybe no urgent tasks—she’d accepted right away and rushed straight to Seoul.
He’d considered calling someone else, but among his acquaintances, no one else seemed suited for manual labor except Cecilia.
Han Yu-na? Out. She looked like she couldn’t lift a regular kettle or rice cooker. Even if she used magic, it’d just turn an iron cooker into a tofu one—no real help.
Lee Seo-ah? Too far away physically. Not worth considering.
Kim Yul? Calling her would probably just bring the smell of water from her house. She wasn’t all that sturdy either, so it’d waste time for nothing. Same with Eun-ha. How fit could a hikikomori mage who never left home be?
Kim I-seo fit the bill best, but calling a Management Bureau agent to his house felt off, so he passed. That left Cecilia.
Sure, she was Vatican-affiliated, but he trusted her more than the Bureau. At least she didn’t give off any betrayal vibes.
Of course, it wasn’t full trust. They hadn’t interacted enough yet. He figured they needed at least five more meetings to chat before that.
Maybe she knew that and jumped in to help right away.
Whatever the case, it wasn’t bad for Ian. He tossed his finished cigarette into a portable ashtray, grabbed a box from Cecilia’s car, and headed back inside.
“Is this everything…?”
He set the box in a corner and sank into the complimentary sofa, catching his breath. Cecilia, having placed the computer on the desk, trotted over and sat beside him.
“All done?”
“Yeah, good work. Thanks for the help.”
“No big deal.”
Cecilia leaned back against the sofa and gazed up at the pristine white ceiling. The sparkling chandelier scattered light downward.
“I’m hungry.”
“…Yeah? Want me to order something?”
“Nun said they eat jjajangmyeon when moving. I want that too.”
“…One bowl?”
“No. Seven bowls, plus tangsuyuk, gunmandu, palbochae, ganxiao shrimp, and dongpo pork.”
The order far exceeded expectations, drawing a hollow laugh from Ian. Cecilia looked embarrassed and mumbled while hugging her knees.
“…I’ll pay for mine. So don’t laugh like you’re mocking me.”
“No, that’s not it… Fine. I’ll cover it. Consider it thanks for helping.”
Ian placed the order at a Chinese place.
It was big enough to offer everything she’d listed. He set his phone aside and turned to her.
“Speaking of, your Korean’s gotten pretty good. Pronunciation and speed are way better than when we met at the hospital.”
“…Nun’s been teaching me nonstop. Wasn’t easy.”
Cecilia rested her cheek on her knee and met Ian’s gaze. His black eyes reflected perfectly in her amethyst purple ones.
“I heard mages have spells to learn foreign languages easily. You use that?”
“There is one, but I haven’t tried it yet.”
It was a spell recorded in the Hand of Recreation.
Not exclusive to Outer God grimoires either. It was an ancient spell devised in Europe—where languages had always differed—to smooth communication among mages.
English as a global language had diminished its importance now, but back then, it was essential. Fail to learn it, and you were treated like an idiot as a given.
And rightly so. Drawing a triangle and circle, writing the target languages, and done. Failing that was disqualification as a mage.
Plenty died for it. “You’re a disgrace to mages!” followed by hanging wasn’t uncommon.
Of course, not anymore. Once translators were invented and English took hold, language-learning magic dropped from must-have to optional. Mages stopped caring if others knew their tongue.
“No trips abroad planned yet. If it comes up, I’ll use it, but not necessary now.”
“…I see. So you won’t use it on me?”
“Can’t use it on others.”
“Selfish spellcasters.”
Cecilia narrowed her eyes and grumbled. Ian chuckled and leaned back like her. The plush sofa enveloped him softly.
‘Not bad for an option item.’
As Ian reached for his phone, a sudden thought made him whip around to Cecilia.
“Oh, right. Planning to hunt a high vampire soon. You in?”
“Vampire…?”
“Vampire. Dracula.”
“Ah.”
Cecilia got it and stretched her legs out. Her short legs kicked idly.
“The Korean Catholic Association contacted me about ghouls anyway.”
“Catholic Association? They exist?”
“Yeah. Like a Vatican branch? That’s the idea. Usually just exorcist priests operate, but sometimes they ask dispatched clergy like me.”
Got it.
Ian nodded and leaned forward slightly.
“You turning it down?”
“Nope. Accepting for sure. Can’t let vampires run wild.”
Cecilia continued seriously.
“I’ll go too. No need for pay. Papal Curia covers it anyway.”
“Good news. Might join other vampire hunters, mages, and a few Bureau agents. That okay?”
“Hmm… Yeah. Should be fine. No need to hide my identity from non-civilians.”
Great. Ian smiled and nodded.
“I’ll contact you when we head out. Rest up till then.”
“Then can we hang out while resting? I wanna try that place called a PC bang.”
“Uh… If time allows. Text me.”
“Okay.”
Cecilia beamed and swung her legs.
They chatted a bit more after that, ate the delivered food together, and unpacked.
*
The Management Bureau had a facility called the Observation Room. Built to track unidentified flying objects breaching airspace or things coming from space, it was a dream job among agents.
Usually five people were assigned. Their job was just monitoring radars 24/7 in shifts. No other duties. Yet they earned as much as Response Division agents.
No wonder it was called a dream job.
Not zero risk, but way less than Response Division.
Super easy too. Just sit and watch radar—what’s hard? If that was tough, office workers would’ve keeled over from overwork ages ago.
Of course, not without downsides.
If you didn’t take leave, you lived in the room’s dorm nearly a year straight. And if something cosmic horror-ish flew in from space, you went mad first. Those were cons.
But the biggest drawback? The endless drowsiness.
“…Ugh.”
The man in the Observation Room rubbed his drooping eyes with his palm, fighting sleep.
“Staring at green radar 24 hours a day is driving me nuts…”
He knew it was a luxury complaint.
Response agents were out risking lives against anomalies right now. He just sat watching radar. Whining about sleep would earn him a lynching from them—no argument.
But what could he do? Sleep came.
People always thought their own job was the hardest.
“Yawn… Maybe some coffee.”
He muttered and grabbed one from the corner fridge.
Then.
Beep. Beep.
Noise from the silent radar. Something detected.
“…!”
His face sharpened instantly. Coffee in hand, he turned to the wall-filling radar.
“…Blue dot.”
A blue blip pulsed clearly. Unidentified flying object signal.
Bureau radars didn’t pick up jets or planes, obviously. He groaned and checked the projected path.
A line of dots. At the end: Earth’s pale satellite, the moon.
“…”
Obviously, no aliens lived on the moon. Nothing like that.
He swallowed hard and switched to wave camera. Used sound waves from radar to image the object.
Whirr.
The radar screen went black-and-white. A white shape formed in the center.
Round saucer outline. Clear UFO. He nodded at the classic alien mystery link.
About to report it, he spotted a familiar symbol on the UFO and frowned.
“…This.”
A symbol everyone saw at least once.
Like a reversed, rotated 卍.
“…Nazis.”
Hakenkreuz.
Unmistakable Nazi Germany symbol.