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Chapter 34
There's a saying that surfaces when times get tough.
Good people don't approach, and those who approach aren't good. It's a phrase that fits Gyeonggi-do perfectly these days. Because any guests coming here would likely be monsters, like the Amalgams descending from Seoul.
However, today's guest seems to be receiving enthusiastic welcome and support from the residents of Gyeonggi-do.
March 13, 2028, at 11:43 AM.
Roughly four months since the fog appeared and monsters broke out, Mr. Anderson, a known American millionaire, arrived in Suwon as a civilian. The news was already buzzing, treating his arrival as a headline event.
The announcer's polished voice and crisp pronunciation delivered a glowing tribute to Mr. Anderson.
Anderson Macenford is a successful CEO running oil and energy businesses in Texas, regarded as an ethical leader who guarantees local employment, and has expressed a strong belief in the historical importance of the ROK-US alliance. Having recently expressed concern over the unrest near Seoul, Mr. Anderson...
Of course, some cynical people might wonder why his visit is such a big deal.
They'd think he's just another privileged person living comfortably across the ocean in America. But there was a reason why the people of Gyeonggi-do—trapped inside the Secondary Blockade Line under the guise of a buffer zone with restricted movement and logistics—welcomed and supported him.
I yawned in the restaurant, watching the news video through my cracked phone screen.
He announced his intention to cooperate with the ROK-US Combined Forces Command in Pyeongtaek to stabilize the local livelihoods of Gyeonggi-do residents and ensure a more effective supply of logistics, and is reportedly persuading the US Senate to resume trade centered around Pyeongtaek Port.
Anderson Macenford. Age 56.
A man with greyish-blonde hair, dressed in a formal suit, giving off a conservative impression.
A devout Christian and former member of the Mormon church, he reportedly avoids alcohol, tobacco, and drugs entirely. He's occasionally plagued by scandals due to his rebellious eldest and second sons, but that's only temporary.
While he built immense wealth through oil and energy businesses in Texas, his relationship with his employees is relatively good. Although the flexible hiring and firing typical of the US remains, he reportedly provides after-care by helping them find other jobs in the region.
He also puts effort into image management, making significant donations to churches and local communities, making him seem like an ideal and ethical businessman.
From the perspective of South Korea, where overseas trade has almost completely stopped due to the monster outbreak, could there be anything more touching than a wealthy American with political and economic influence lobbying congressmen to resume trade?
Some might say it doesn't matter if he has hidden motives, seeing him as a benefactor.
To South Korea right now, he is practically a lifeline. It was only natural for the people of Gyeonggi-do to cheer wildly when Anderson Macenford arrived in Suwon under heavy security.
But knowing a bit of the truth, it was hard for me to welcome him wholeheartedly.
I turned off my phone, sighed, and walked toward the temporary chapel. Our Supreme Mages were already gathered there.
Pastor Park Yo-han was flipping through the Bible behind slightly sliding glasses.
Monk Cheong-hwi was meditating with his eyes closed and hands pressed together.
Hamza was tucked away in a corner, trying not to be noticed, aimlessly examining his fingers.
Shin Na-in had decided to stick with earphones for now, saving his headset for when he went on missions.
Lee Se-jun was curling a dumbbell with one arm, claiming he'd recently gotten into weightlifting.
And finally, everyone was assembled, including me, Baek Jemin, who served as the mental pillar and vanguard of the Supreme Mages.
"Did you arrive, Baek Jemin?"
"Yes."
Even I didn't dare sit in the seat of honor.
There were seven seats in the temporary chapel. With the head seat left empty, the six of us filled the remaining spots.
Knowing the reason why, I could only frown and grumble.
"Why is a man with so much money interested in magic?"
"Once a person fulfills every desire, only one longing remains. In Buddhism, one tries to sever worldly desires to become a Buddha; elsewhere, people seek salvation from God or dream of union with the divine."
While the people of Gyeonggi-do praised Anderson Macenford as an economic savior who would restart trade, our Supreme Mages were waiting for him for a different reason.
Anderson Macenford.
He is a member of a mysticism advisory committee organized in the US and a pro-Korean advocate who strongly opposes nuclear strikes on Korea. Officially, he came to Suwon City Hall to visit the soldiers, but the reality was different.
About thirty minutes passed.
Just as Pastor Park Yo-han began to doze off and snore, leaning back with his Bible open, the sound of overlapping footsteps echoed from the hallway.
Shin Na-in took out his earphones, twisted his eyebrows, and shrugged.
"He sounds incredibly excited."
He was exactly right.
Given Anderson Macenford's age and impression, I expected him to speak calmly in a dignified voice, but the voices coming from the hallway were clearly full of excitement.
I could feel him unable to hide his thrill as he chattered away in English. Unfortunately, I'm someone who can't even handle one language properly, so I couldn't share in Anderson's joy.
A moment later, bodyguards rushed into the temporary chapel and began inspecting us one by one. Some approached us, gesturing for us to stand up as they attempted to search our bodies.
If Mr. Anderson hadn't waved them off, I would have been patted down in an instant.
The bodyguards responded to the order immediately and professionally. Once the doors to the chapel closed and the guards stood watch outside, Mr. Anderson naturally took the seat of honor and pulled out a handkerchief.
He lightly wiped the sweat trickling down his cheek and looked at us.
I wondered if he was about to start spouting arrogant English.
"I can speak Korean."
His pronunciation was slightly awkward, but Anderson's Korean sounded far more native than Hamza's.
Despite his tired expression, Anderson's eyes sparkled as he looked around at us.
"You are the best of the best. I heard you are the mages with the most outstanding results currently."
"The best?"
At Lee Se-jun's bewildered voice, Anderson blinked and asked back.
"Is that not what Supreme Mage means?"
The gazes of our members in Aphorism simultaneously targeted me.
Pastor Park Yo-han looked at me, having enjoyed the full spectrum of human emotion by stripping away joy and ecstasy, and answered Anderson in a calm voice.
"It's true that our organization has achieved the best results among the civilian operators. In particular, this fellow Baek Jemin is so passionate about magic that he's studied up to the third line."
"Oh... Baek, that is truly impressive. I heard most of you lived your lives without any connection to the occult. Do you call Korean shamans 'Baksu Mudang'? I pay my respects to your achievements, accomplished without a shaman."
Well... there was one...
Thinking of Bosal Geulmun's end, I could only nod reluctantly. I think I finally understand why skilled shamans absolutely refuse to be conscripted, choosing instead to hide or flee.
The others weren't much different, often clearing their throats and glancing away.
Being a cultured man, Anderson must have sensed the sudden awkwardness, as he straightened his collar and changed the subject.
"Regardless, the very fact that you survived such dangerous real-world combat without sufficient prior knowledge suggests you've had a spiritual awakening. In that case, would it be possible to examine the magic seals?"
"It'll be hard to learn without the fog. Moreover, in places without the fog, the original patterns turn into bizarre symbols or scribbles, making them difficult to decipher."
"But you can still draw them, can't you?"
Anderson seemed even more delighted by Pastor Park's kind explanation.
Knowing the side effects of magic runes, we Supreme Mages exchanged glances and communicated silently.
What should we do? Just draw it?
It's not our fault if he throws up, right?
In that moment, Anderson pulled a small, necklace-like object from his coat. It looked like a simple decorative necklace, but upon closer inspection, it was a pendant with an engraved star.
"Don't worry. I have a pentagram that has undergone a purification ritual. If my ritual was correct, I should be under spiritual protection."
Of course, the result was disastrous.
"Bleargh-!"
As soon as I—the one with the most knowledge—successfully demonstrated the 'Seven-Corner,' a distorted square within a triangle, Anderson immediately vomited. The situation only calmed down after a round of cold glares from the rushing bodyguards.
Once the bodyguards stepped back, Anderson sighed with a pale complexion.
His eyes were filled with lingering regret.
"And here I thought I was finally glimpsing the vision of Hermes Trismegistus..."
"But you're rich. There are plenty of people who'd prefer money over magic."
If a rich man can even use magic, what's a low-born mage like me supposed to do?
I quickly tried to balance the scales for the sake of the world, but Anderson's passion showed no sign of fading.
"What use is wealth if one cannot reach the providence? The Lord said it is hard for a rich man to enter the gates of heaven, so I must strive even harder."
"Matthew 19:24. That is a very Anderson-like way of putting it."
Pastor Park had already given him a perfect score for being a devout Christian.
I could see he couldn't hide the twitching corner of his mouth.
Unfortunately, Anderson's attempt wasn't entirely worthless. Surprisingly, he managed to endure the magic runes of the Hand Line.
Of course, he was gagging as if he might vomit at any moment, but the fact that he held it was significant.
After calming his nausea for a moment, Anderson's eyes sparkled with joy like a pure-hearted boy, despite his exhaustion.
"5x5. The magic square of Mars. I don't know about other seals, but since this one is derived from a magic square, the backlash seems weaker!"
"A magic square? Ugh..."
"Yes!"
Lee Se-jun, who had accidentally caught a glimpse and vomited along with him, asked while closing his eyes tight and catching his breath.
Anderson, seemingly thrilled that his occult knowledge was finally seeing the light, began to chatter away like a young boy.
"Originally, there was a belief that such magic squares could repel evil curses. Since ancient times, mysticism has viewed numbers as the archetype of all things and a manifestation of divine providence. In astrology, the seven celestial bodies were divided and linked to specific numbers. According to the Sephirot of Jewish mysticism, known as the Kabbalah, Mars corresponds to the fifth Sephirah, Geburah."
Do you know what I was thinking the moment I heard Anderson's explanation?
Shin Na-in probably noticed.
As I turned my head slightly, I saw Shin Na-in narrowing his brow as our eyes met.
We're screwed.
"But the grid itself is related to the magic square of Mars, though it's puzzling that the numbers aren't filled in. I suppose it's not a traditional magic square. Pastor and Monk, you were wondering if there was a numerological meaning to this?"
"Yes, that the number 5 is the number of humanity..."
"I have also mentioned that the concept of the Five Aggregates exists in Buddhism."
"That's it!"
Anderson clapped his hands with a loud snap, breaking into a jovial laugh.
It wasn't my imagination that my lips were becoming bone-dry.
"The number 5 symbolizes change, freedom, and curiosity; it is multifaceted and, in numerology, represents humans. That is why the pentagram, which symbolizes and codifies the spirit that governs the four elements, is used as a seal of purification and protection. You have Saju, the Four Pillars of Destiny, here in Korea, right? I heard many people believe in it. Since Saju also emphasizes numbers, it can be considered a form of numerology in a broad sense."
"So, Mr. Anderson, do you believe there is meaning in this?"
"Of course. This grid can be interpreted in various ways. The first would be an extreme stylization of the right and left hands overlapping. However, the fact that it takes the form of the magic square of Mars yet remains empty of numbers might be a specific hint."
"A hint?"
"Yes. A magic square is only complete when the numbers are filled. The characters I saw... no, the term 'seal' would be more appropriate. Those magic seals had no numbers. A magic square grid without numbers."
Anderson fiddled with the pentagram necklace that had provided almost no effect.
Even though it failed, it seemed to be a sort of sentimental object for him.
Anderson was simply overjoyed and delighted by the fact that he had touched upon the mysteries of the occult.
"I suspect this suggests the magic was never completed. For whatever reason."
"Would other seals have numerological significance as well?"
If Pastor Park hadn't stepped up, would I have been the one to interrogate him so thoroughly?
Yet, I was frightened by my own growing interest.
Baek Jemin... I thought he was the kind of man who only wanted to sleep the moment he sat at a desk, but he was actually quite impressive when it came to a topic that piqued his interest.
I tapped my chin and listened intently as the conversation continued.
Anderson frowned as he recalled the explanations of the seals in his head, but the smile never left his lips.
Then, he snapped his fingers with a sharp click and practically shouted.
"The eye is a distorted square within a triangle... seven angles. The ear is four horizontal lines crossing an oval... combined with the notion of fate and the music of the spheres, I've got it!"
Anderson raised his index finger and looked around at us with a gaze full of ecstasy.
Just as I was about to turn my head to avoid that overwhelming gaze, Hamza whispered softly.
"Stay sharp, everyone. Korea's trade depends on this man."
*Gasp*...
I swallowed hard and adjusted my posture.
Not to mention me, who had already become interested, even Lee Se-jun—determined to remain loyal to his homeland—pinched his own thigh to straighten up. Pastor Park and Monk Cheong-hwi were, as always, deeply engaged in the conversation.
The only exception was that bastard Shin Na-in, who was openly headbanging with his earphones plugged in.
I wondered if he didn't give a damn even if South Korea went under.
As if hearing my inner thoughts, Shin Na-in opened his eyes slightly and clicked his tongue.
"Remember that the Lord told us not to look back when He purified Sodom and Gomorrah. Lingering affection for those destined to become pillars of salt is a sign of weak faith!"
Screw this.
Meanwhile, Anderson was smiling and shouting toward Shin Na-in, the only one ignoring him.
"The seal of the ear is a musical score. The oval is a stylized symbol of the ear. And such scales have been expressed as seven-note scales since ancient times. Seven angles, seven notes, and the number 7 that emerges when you divide 25—from the 5x5 grid—into two... considering that these esoteric systems usually pursue union with God or ascension, that number is not meaningless. Someone placed the number 7 there very precisely."
This was where Lee Se-jun played his part.
In a desperate effort to resume national trade, he gave a vivid reaction, counting along on his fingers one by one.
"Do, Re, Mi, Fa, Sol, La, Ti, Do. Huh?"
"You there, your name is...?"
"I'm Lee Se-jun, Mr. Anderson."
After Pastor Park introduced him, Anderson blinked and asked Lee Se-jun.
"Supreme Mage Lee. Is there something wrong with my theory?"
"There are eight?"
Watching Lee Se-jun confidently raise his doubt, I was momentarily tempted to agree.
Had it not been for the look of utter disgust in Shin Na-in's eyes, that is.
***
Anyway, Anderson was an important financier and a patron with a wealth of occult knowledge.
He was a bit of an exhausting man, though, absolutely thrilled that his knowledge had finally become useful.
"In these esoteric arts, you cannot overlook astrology and the celestial bodies. While other things are still circumstantial, it's clear that hand magic resonates with Mars. The ability to repel monsters with the Blood of the Right Hand corresponds to the concept of the 'right' side. Right. As seen in the meanings 'correct' and 'right side,' this is one of humanity's deepest biases. You could say that lifeblood flowing from the right hand strikes down the 'incorrect' monsters."
After this lengthy conversation, Anderson wore a look of utter devastation when a knock sounded at the door.
"Oh... is it time already...?"
"Mr. Anderson. We appreciate your interest and kindness, but you are a busy man, so we shouldn't keep you."
Pastor Park Yo-han was trying to be considerate, but Anderson shook his head as if acting like a spoiled child.
"I am so exhilarated and joyful, and since this is for the sake of humanity, it is only natural that I make time. In my heart, I wish I could spend the entire day talking with you."
"Since your heart is so upright, Mr. Anderson, I am sure we will have more wonderful meetings in the future."
Monk Cheong-hwi began to persuade Anderson, citing the principle that all meetings eventually lead to parting.
However, Anderson still showed his reluctance to leave.
"Fine. Then, just regarding the ritual..."
"Mr. Anderson."
"This is information that will be helpful; please listen."
For fuck's sake. It seems this guy wants to live here.
What if he asks us to escort him into the fog?
Amidst such worries, Anderson finally spoke and provided some useful information.
"The Command's hypothesis is that this symbolizes human intelligence and may be linked to alchemy. Given the various symbols that clearly resonate with Mars, I can prepare a ritual to elevate the stages of hand magic. You must prepare for the ritual starting from the moonrise before the coming March 21st."
"A ritual?"
I jumped up and asked, and Anderson nodded with a firm expression.
"Prepare a ritual site with a reddish glow reminiscent of Mars, and burn spicy, intense incense to facilitate the resonance. Since Mars symbolizes struggle, prepare an iron catalyst and perform the ritual around 6:35 AM on March 21st, or as the moon is setting. Grasp the catalyst with the Blood of the Right Hand so that the iron and blood connect. By linking it with the red light of Mars, let the hand resonate with Mars through the blood. Until then, maintain a state of mental elevation and spiritual tranquility through repetitive hand-based exercises."
As he spoke, Anderson placed the necklace he had been wearing on the desk.
He cast a look filled with lingering regret.
"This pentagram talisman will be of some help. It has the effect of providing spiritual protection and improving concentration."
"Now, now, Mr. Anderson. You're a busy man, so let's leave it at that for today."
"Best of the Best. It was a true pleasure to be with you. I will certainly visit you again."
Anderson practically had to be forced to move.
He walked so slowly that it was obvious he was hoping we would beg him to stay. But it was already 3:51 PM.
Finally, after Anderson left, we could let out a sigh of relief.
Listening to the receding footsteps, I exhaled a sigh that mixed the joy of gaining a clue about the ritual with complex emotions toward this new patron.
"Can we just make sure that guy doesn't come back?"
"You only know the political reason why the military told you they aren't dropping nukes, right?"
Pastor Park snapped his Bible shut, took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyelids.
"It's because occultists from all over the world—wealthy people and tycoons interested in this kind of sorcery and mystery—are showing interest, so the US is holding back. At the very least, the reason the US supports our country is because of the hobbies of people like that."
"Then...?"
"How the hell did South Korea end up surviving by becoming a den of magic tricks?"
It was then that I finally realized the 21st-century Republic of Korea was preparing for a new leap forward.
"Pastor, how about some national pride in becoming a global magic superpower?"
"Hey, you brat. It would be better if both those monsters and magic didn't exist; why the hell are you talking about a magic superpower?"
"I'm fine with it."
The founder of the eight-note scale, Lee Se-jun, spoke up after overcoming his shriveled sense of shame.
Monk Cheong-hwi pressed his palms together with a faint smile, and Shin Na-in was busy humming a hymn through his earphones.
Hamza, who was always busy reading the room, was on this side as well.
"Permanent residency in Korea... I couldn't get it before. Now I'm special. I like it."
Pastor Park looked around at us, pursed his lips as if he wanted a cigarette, and then let out a groan.
"Should we just let the nukes hit us?"
End