Discharge, and the Free City of Gurye
I'd thought about just leaving like this, but that would turn me into a deserter. I had no desire to be hunted by the Imperial Army's military police.
I had to tie up loose ends.
So I returned to the Seoraksan Outpost.
First up: the meeting with company commander Hwang Jae-cheol.
“...Is that for real?”
“Yes.”
“Sergeant Go Youngho tried to kill you?”
“He kicked me right off a cliff. I barely hung on for dear life, snagged on a tree halfway down.”
“Ugh.”
Hwang Jae-cheol looked like he was about to lose his mind at Taeju's bombshell report.
A subordinate assaulting a superior, of all things.
“Don't say a word. Stay on base. Once Go Youngho and the platoon return, we'll get to the bottom of this.”
“Yes, sir.”
Is it true?
It better not be.
If it was, command would hold him responsible. His promotion? Dead in the water.
I need to bury this somehow. And where the hell did that bastard Jang Indong disappear to?
The next day.
Lieutenant Jang Indong and five platoon members finally confirmed MIA. Then the search party found the bodies.
Word spread like wildfire through the unit.
Traces of death presumed from orcs in breeding season.
Dog tags recovered. Bloodstains. Chunks of flesh.
In the end, the incident was out of the company commander's hands.
During the chain-of-command reports, Platoon Leader Kim Taeju and Sergeant Go Youngho's names came up. Naturally, the outpost military police launched an investigation.
Taeju faced interrogation from the MP investigator sergeant.
“We've heard the circumstances... but how did you make it back? Especially in your condition.”
“You think mana rejectors can't even walk? I climbed down the cliff carefully and came straight back to base.”
“Why didn't you report to the MPs directly?”
Taeju let out a short, scoffing laugh.
“A sergeant tried to kill me. And he hinted he was acting on orders. Who am I supposed to trust in a situation like that?”
“...”
“Honestly? I don't trust the MPs either.”
The investigator sergeant frowned slightly.
“Then what's your proof that Go Youngho tried to kill you, Lieutenant Kim?”
“What proof would there be? Unless Go Youngho survives, anyway. Then we could do a face-to-face interrogation.”
“Sigh. Do you really have no idea how Lieutenant Jang Indong and the platoon died?”
“How should I know? I was shocked to hear they got taken out by orcs too.”
Even the investigator couldn't make sense of it.
Go Youngho and the platoon? Fine. But Lieutenant Jang Indong was an awakener.
He wouldn't go down easy to orcs.
He should've at least escaped.
For now, Lieutenant Kim Taeju lacked the ability to kill soldiers.
A mana rejector with the pathetic physical stats of a normal human—no, worse.
And not even awakened.
Truth be told, the real issue wasn't the deaths of five soldiers, including an awakener.
It was the victim's claim that a mere sergeant tried to murder a general's son—an Imperial Army officer.
If that report climbed the chain?
This wouldn't stay an outpost MP matter.
Army HQ would dispatch investigators. Military prosecutors would get involved. Anyone connected would be stripped of rank.
The investigator knew Taeju's testimony wasn't baseless.
Paju Territory heir. New wife. Half-brothers. Power struggles over the territory. People who wanted Lieutenant Kim Taeju dead.
This could really have been an assassination attempt.
It had credibility.
Kim Taeju, the administrative officer.
Suddenly assigned reconnaissance by platoon leader Jang Indong.
A fact even the company commander didn't know.
Jang Indong wouldn't have acted alone...
“But your testimony isn't ironclad, Lieutenant.”
“I know. No evidence.”
Taeju pretended to mull it over before continuing.
“That's why I don't want this going public.”
“...Pardon?”
“Let's just bury it.”
“Ah, are—are you serious?”
“No evidence, like you said. I won't go blabbing. And Go Youngho's dead anyway.”
The investigator's face lit up.
Just what the brass wanted.
Time passed. In the end, Lieutenant Jang Indong and the platoon's deaths were ruled as killed in action.
And Taeju immediately submitted his discharge papers.
No one tried to stop him.
If the assassination threat was real?
Lieutenant Kim Taeju was a ticking time bomb.
Better to cut him loose.
The discharge was approved on the spot.
Major General Kim Ungbang, lord of Paju Territory, leaned back in his chair with a weary sigh, rubbing his temples.
His son's sudden discharge, out of nowhere.
No other news.
He tried calling, but it was a dead number.
What could have driven the discharge decision?
His aide filled in the blanks.
“Not confirmed, but there was an assassination attempt on Taeju.”
“...Assassination?”
“Yes. During a reconnaissance mission to an orc village with a sergeant from the same company, Go Youngho—”
“Hold on! Recon? Wasn't he in admin?”
“Well, suddenly a reassignment order came down.”
“...”
Kim Ungbang scowled as fiercely as he could.
Mana rejector or not, it was his son.
That's why he'd slotted him into admin.
“Who issued it? Who's got the authority?”
“Checked with Army HQ—no such order exists. Confirmed: it never happened.”
“Then who ordered the recon?”
“Lieutenant Jang Indong, who worked with Taeju.”
“That bastard pulled some stunt? Why?”
“There are suspicions, yes.”
“Like what?”
“We've detected recent contact between Lieutenant Jang Indong and Japanese-origin officers in Army GHQ.”
Japanese officers?
One name flashed in his mind.
His wife. Mother to his other sons, Taepyeong and Taecheon: Honda Mitsui.
Motive? Check. Capability? Check.
Kyushu Territory dwarfed Paju—richer, bigger.
He'd relied heavily on her family's support.
Paju Territory.
Bordering the old DMZ monster zone.
Granted personally by the Samhan Emperor.
To eradicate monsters, protect the people.
But the territory was dirt-poor.
Monster byproducts barely covered operations.
Training and organizing troops cost a fortune.
He'd had no choice but to beg from his new wife, Mitsui.
Her influence in the territory had only grown.
Did my wife...?
Was he that much of a threat?
His mana rejector son?
Well!
At 29, still clinging to life.
That must've made her uneasy.
She'd want Paju for her own sons.
“I'll look into it further.”
His mind was a mess of tangled thoughts.
But sometimes simple was best.
“No. Drop it. End of story.”
“Sir? But—”
“No point stirring the pot. Son's alive, discharged. I'll handle it.”
“Understood.”
No need to dig deeper.
His son had a terminal diagnosis from the start.
He'd survived. Good enough.
Plus, the kid discharged without a word, no heads-up.
Didn't return to Paju. Cut off contact.
Is he severing ties?
Or suspects his stepmom.
Sigh. Maybe it's better if he stays out of sight.
29—a young age, if you thought about it.
His sore spot. The sickly finger.
People looked at his son with pity: tiger father, dog son.
How does a master awakener sire a mana rejector?
Still, he'd sworn to love him to the end.
Pampered him like a treasure.
Then his new wife bore twin sons: Taepyeong and Taecheon.
Mana compatibles.
Not awakened yet, but they could be forcibly awakened anytime.
Taeju's death was regrettable, but the territory heir would be Taepyeong or Taecheon.
“No trace of where Taeju went?”
“Gone dark after leaving Seoraksan. Shall I track him?”
“No. Leave it. Don't look.”
He decided not to mention Taeju to his new wife, Mitsui.
Good is good.
Besides, he had two sturdy mana-compatible sons.
To replace the eldest.
It came without warning, out of nowhere.
One day in 2023.
The mana incursion.
Deadly changes began ravaging human bodies.
The cause of mana? Unknown.
Still is.
2027.
Mana, this bizarre substance permeating the atmosphere, wreaked havoc on the natural world.
People died by the millions.
Plants and animals too—dead or mutated.
Humanity despaired.
Too late.
A third of the population already gone.
2050.
Earth's population nearly halved.
No escape.
The rich and powerful hid in bunkers. Useless.
You need air to breathe. Mana was in the air.
2100.
Survivors: about 30%.
They sensed it: humanity doomed.
2123.
Remaining population: around 20%.
That's when adaptation began to sprout.
Not adaptation, really—mana-induced change.
Not evolution.
Mana mutated DNA.
Genetic mutation.
Humans too, but plants and animals changed more drastically.
New plants, new beasts: Earth's masters, born mana-adapted.
But dangerous mutations too.
Beasts dubbed monsters, threatening humanity.
And awakening.
The System's emergence.
New humanity: adapters and awakeners.
With the System, mana's arrival was no accident.
Who did it?
Aliens? Gods?
2200.
Humanity flourished.
Why? Tenacity. Science clinging on.
Scientists harnessed mana for new tech.
Dawn of a new civilization.
Progress slow at first.
Then acceleration.
Mana-tech fortresses: cities. Global communication.
Awakeners pivotal.
Protecting humanity from monsters.
Hit rock bottom.
Only up from here.
Humanity rose again.
2323. 300 years post-incursion.
Ancient glory nearly restored.
Population booming.
Besides mana, another threat: climate change.
Mana accelerated it.
Helped wipe out 90% of humanity.
Climate vastly different from 300 years ago.
Warmer overall?
Old Japan—now under Samhan—half submerged.
Kyushu a speck of an island.
Korean Peninsula lost chunks too.
Mostly southwest coast cities.
East coast hit too.
Seoraksan Outpost practically seaside.
Thus, Samhan capital in old China's Manchuria.
New Seoul.
Livable.
Manchurian plains: mild temps, ample rain. Empire's breadbasket.
Mana rice thrives.
Old strains extinct post-incursion. Mutants survived.
Tastes near-normal, minus the mana.
All agro-livestock adapted.
Mana-infused produce.
But Taeju's destination wasn't Manchuria's New Seoul.
Not north—south.
Final stop: Gurye Free City.
Southern Korea's humid subtropics. Minimal imperial law. Among empire's top five deadliest cities.
Blame Jirisan Dark Forest looming above.
No ordinary woods—dense jungle. Sunlight scarce. Perpetual gloom.
“Finally made it.”
Time to set up shop here.
Why Jirisan?
This deathtrap.
Countless venomous snakes, bugs, plants, mushrooms in the jungle.
Paradise, right?
For Absolute Poison Demon Kim Taeju.