The Path Opens

An Ability Core, three times?

If a second use was possible, there was no particular reason a third had to be impossible. Even so, surviving a second use was nothing but rumor—thick ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in the air, and never properly confirmed. And someone had used one three times and lived?

"Tell me everything."

"Before that. How did you know it could be used twice, sir?"

"Rumors. That's all I ever heard."

"So you used another Core with no certainty at all?"

"Obviously."

"That is so like you, sir."

I had simply hung my hopes on a one-in-a-million chance. Maybe I was the only one left in the dark. A Hunter instructor of my standing ought to have ranked mid-tier or higher even among the VIPs, the sort who handled high-grade intelligence as a matter of course. I never mixed with other Hunters outside of missions, though, so for an instructor my information was poor. My life as a Hunter had been short, besides.

Min Yeo-jin would be different.

"You know something?"

"In all my time as an instructor, I met exactly one. A Hunter who had used a Core twice."

I had already done it myself. It was hardly news.

"But I never met anyone who had used one three times. That, I only heard as rumor."

A rumor was interesting enough. I had never heard it.

It was true that after succeeding a second time, I had wondered whether a third might be possible. To think there was actually a person who had tried it and lived. Three times at the edge of death—was that bad luck? Or good luck, for surviving three Core uses?

"That the whole rumor?"

"They say that Hunter piled up enough points to enter the Geofront—"

"Then there aren't many candidates."

"I think that's why it keeps spreading. Everyone's trying to guess which one it is."

Hunters who ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had entered the Geofront on accumulated points numbered sixteen in all, to date. Including the Old Man, who had to be looking at seventy by now.

"You said you personally knew a Hunter in the Geofront, didn't you, sir?"

"Wouldn't be him."

If it had been the Old Man, he would have told me.

…Not necessarily.

"You're still not going to tell me who it is, are you?"

"Once I've decided not to say something—"

"I won't ask again. Ever!"

Decent information, either way. It meant a last resort was still on the table.

The problem was that an Ability Core was not easy to come by. They had the lowest occurrence rate of any Core, and there was no way to be certain one was an Ability Core in the first place. What feeling could tell you was only the success rate, and the side effects of failure. A low success rate let you guess it might be an Ability Core. That was the whole of it. Quite a few Cores with abysmal success rates had turned out, once actually used, to be nothing but communication Cores.

"That's all the rumor says?"

"There is one last thing. I'm not certain about this one."

"Since when has a rumor been certain."

"Well… You've already been through it, sir, but when you use a second Core, the ability you already have evolves, doesn't it?"

"Right."

She scratched at her head a moment, then spoke.

"If the third use succeeds, I don't think it stops at the ability evolving."

Interesting rumor.

"Then what else is there?"

"I don't know that far."

Amusing, and nothing more. Not a story you could trust. Even if someone had succeeded three times, how many could there be? One, if that—and that sort of person would never have sat around recounting the experience.

So it doesn't end at ability evolution.

A third use was close to delusion. People had probably just tacked on whatever came to mind.

"But I'm really only telling you this, sir!"

"I know."

"Even if you mention it somewhere, you must not say you heard it from me!"

"I said I know."

I had no hobby of spreading rumors, and even fewer people to tell them to.

"I should get going."

"Already? Just one cup of hot water with me."

"Busy."

"Just one."

"I said I'm busy."

"You don't trust me? One cup, just one! I won't even hold your hand. I won't touch a single hair!"

"…Were you going to spike the water?"

Say the last of it, then get out.

"And I hesitate to call this returning a favor, but—"

"You don't have to give me anything! I'm the one repaying a kindness."

"Right. That's the kindness I wanted to talk about."

"What?"

Better to tell her.

"You remember my subordinate. The one who saved your life."

Hocheol was Headquarters personnel now. Sooner or later he might cross paths with Min Yeo-jin, and I needed her to know his identity had been laundered before some problem I hadn't accounted for came of it.

"The Lemming Unit soldier? Of course! Every Monday I thank him, quietly, in my head."

"Why Monday, of all days?"

"Because Sunday is for thinking about you, sir?"

"Then Tues—…never mind."

One question led into the next, but asking wasn't going to settle any of them.

"He changed jobs. He's a postman now."

"Uh…?"

A face that didn't follow. I had explained it wrong.

"No. He was demoted."

"Oh. That's a shame."

"There's a story to it. His identity's been laundered, too."

"He must have gotten into trouble. I understand. If I happen to meet him, I should react as if he was always a postman?"

Quick on the uptake. Good. About the only thing the people I kept around had in common. I didn't associate with the ones you had to spoon-feed every last detail. Those sorts didn't last. They died.

I peeled off a clinging Min Yeo-jin with some difficulty. Fled would be the more accurate word. Worse than a zombie.

I geared up at once for the job. The difference from usual was the heap of Cores I had packed—all thirty I had in storage, which forced me to take the largest postman bag there was. At first I had considered bringing only enough for two or three uses of the ability. They were bulky, and the weight was no joke. Cut into how much you could move, and survival was the next thing to suffer.

But an evolved ability is worth taking that handicap.

I could only hope the choice was the right one.

The map crackled open in my hands. A relatively recent update. Tracing the delivery route toward Geumcheon District, I copied what I knew onto points across it. A Headquarters map printed only the bare minimum, and if I meant to navigate by the map alone later, this kind of preparation paid for itself.

Headquarters kept the maps thin on purpose. There was a reason for all of it. Insurance, in case a map ever leaked—so that important information would not spill out along with the paper. Even the settlements I was supposed to warn of air raids were not marked as danger zones on this one.

The intelligence that had come with the delivery concerned the nearby settlements. Two of them had vanished. Only one to an air raid. The other, they said, had burned in a raider attack.

This is all the information I have.

It would take time before Hocheol grew close enough to the other postmen to bring information back. Until then I would have to work short on intel, handling the jobs Jo Yong-han sent along with the deliveries themselves. At least it started in Geumcheon District. A mercy. The safest ground in Seoul. Get inside, and there should be nothing to worry about.

Probably.

Retrieve the blueprints.

The job itself was simple. Nothing easier than bringing back a scrap of paper. Small, and light. Just don't let it get damaged.

The first step toward the Subway.

Was the day the delusion came true actually on its way? I had thought it was something that could never happen. Live long enough, and you see things.

A postman's work began by confirming the mail for delivery had been properly received.

When the mission included an air-raid warning, you also had to collect the cartridge for the siren, and you did not forget it. Last of all, once they handed over the Damage Measuring Device, your business there was done.

Along the way, desk staff sometimes gave me the wrong mail by mistake. Take it and walk out, and the demerit landed on you alone. So you kept your head on, and you checked. I didn't know why the system was built this way. I knew it was a shitty arrangement.

I was on my way out when—

"Jungkook! I've been waiting!"

That voice.

"Don't want to hear it."

"Hm? What did you say?"

"Ah. Meant to keep that in my head."

Bae Guk-jang. I had hoped to get past without seeing his face this time.

"That special mission I recommended before. I hear you decided to take it?"

Bae Guk-jang was the one who had shoved me into the Subway project. The first site being safe Geumcheon was surely his hand as well.

"They tell me to do it, I do it."

"You took it because I asked? Heh!"

"I was just heading out. I'm busy."

The moment I turned—

"Wait, wait."

Bae Guk-jang caught my arm.

"Sorry to spring this on you, but you'd better not take this mission."

What was this man on about now.

"I'm busy. Don't be a nuisance."

"You're going to Geumcheon, aren't you? The situation there isn't good."

"What about it."

Bae Guk-jang fumbled a map out of his coat. The route toward Geumcheon was marked on it, and the update date was far more recent than the one I carried.

"See this?"

The settlement that had burned in the raider attack.

"Already checked."

"Then this?"

Another settlement, marked with an X. Not printed. A mark Bae Guk-jang had added himself. Information I didn't have.

"Air raid?"

"This one's a raider attack too."

Settlements taking damage from raiders was common enough. Slipping in, killing a few, stealing what they could carry, and running—that happened all the time. Wiping a settlement out entirely did not. It meant a raider band of real size had come in meaning business. And it had happened at two adjacent sites, around the same time. The air was dangerous. No question.

But.

I had already decided I would not turn my back on this.

This was a different order of thing from an ordinary delivery, where keeping myself alive was enough. Jo Yong-han hadn't wanted me on it because he couldn't trust my ability. If I dropped out, another postman would fill the slot, and that one might fail the mission. Stack enough failures, and the project collapses. No guarantee, then, that the Subway would ever be rebuilt.

So I wouldn't run. I would carry the responsibility I had been given, and only then demand my share with my head up.

He who cannot stand unashamed shall have no right to ride the Subway.

Bae Guk-jang, who had no way of knowing any of this, kept talking.

"You don't usually take work in places like that. That's why I thought I had to tell you."

If I died, Bae Guk-jang—who had a straw already stuck in my points—would lose out too. That was the real reason.

"I'm not saying drop the whole project. Just sit this one out, you know?"

As if that were up to me.

"That face. You just thought, as if that's up to me, didn't you?"

"You studying physiognomy too, Director?"

"Who do you think I am? Preparations are already finished."

Bae Guk-jang held out a sheet of paper. The signature at the very bottom caught my eye at once. Jo Yong-han's name.

So Bae Guk-jang had reached over Jo Yong-han's head. Even Jo Yong-han had been left with no choice.

"See? Less trouble for you. All because I care about you that—"

His prattling scattered my focus, and the words wouldn't sit still. Even so, one passage jumped off the page.

That bastard, Jo Yong-han.

Not bad.

I would take that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠backing gladly.

"So what I'm saying is, how much I—"

"Any intel on the raiders?"

"Hm? Forget it, forget it. Is this about the mail work already cut for the Geumcheon route? I'll pull all of that too—"

"No intel, I'm just going."

"What? No—Jungkook!"

Bae Guk-jang seized my arm again.

"I'm telling you, you don't have to go."

"Time."

"Hm?"

"There isn't any."

"Hm…?"

It had been a while since I had gone dead serious with this man. Fortunately, Bae Guk-jang was quick to read a room. You didn't climb to that seat without it.

"…You're really going?"

The face of a man who had lost the world.

"Going is settled. Whether I come back is the question. Without intel, that's a problem."

"Haa…"

"The intel. Not the breath."

"I have intel, but…"

A face that couldn't hide how little he wanted to give it.

"Then I'll just go."

"Hold on a second."

"See you later."

"All right, all right."

He had taken my arm several times today.

"Hoo…"

"What did you even eat this morning?"

If he wanted me back alive, he would have to hand the information over properly.

"…The raider band is about fifty strong."

A considerable number. A band that fattened its ranks in a hurry fell apart just as fast. So they were not a crew thrown together overnight. That many ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠people running loose in an organized way—they had been building strength for a long time.

"Judging by how the settlements went down before anyone could so much as respond, they seem to have skill, too."

They would. The organization was nothing ordinary.

"If they go after a settlement again, the next target is likely to be here. Or so I heard."

Best to keep clear of that side.

"The only other oddity is that there are two leaders—"

"Two leaders?"

"Might be bad information. You know how those raider bastards operate. Hard enough for one man to hold them, and two? No chance."

A raider band run on equal footing by two leaders.

"You really mean to go?"

"If you want me back alive, set out a bowl of water and pray."

"…Wait here."

He vanished somewhere and came back with a small box in his hand. A Type-B military survival kit. Brand new, the seal still intact. He had fetched it quickly, which meant he had been keeping it all along. Issued only to soldiers, of course, and illegal to trade. So this gentleman didn't live by every law either.

"I seem to recall you saying that setting aside extra support gear went against fairness."

"Where's the fairness in who lives and who dies?"

A correct thing to say, for once.

"How did you get this?"

"Never mind that. Just come back alive."

A face more serious than it needed to be. Serious enough to look like a man genuinely worried for me. Well. He wasn't wholly unconcerned. Look at the points I brought in.

Bae Guk-jang didn't take my arm again. He only handed over the latest map he had been holding.

Information, one way or another.

From time to time, something the Old Man used to say came back to me. It came back whenever things went the way he had said they would.

If you truly mean to go, a path will open.

So the Old Man had been right. An unpleasant fact.

Anyway.

Bae Guk-jang had known a great deal. There was exactly one thing he had overlooked. I understood. Too much information, and a man could lose the path inside it. But I had truly meant to go.

And I could see that path.