Time for a Proper Lesson
It was eleven at night. Normally, this would be the hour I looked forward to—the so-called “real ones’ time.” But today the gallery felt like a funeral home.
Title: Director Gets Absolutely Wrecked. Is Samsung Electronics and Hynix Really Hitting the Lower Limit? (-30% on both stock charts)
(Frog losing its mind meme)
(Frog grabbing a gun and about to do something dangerous meme)
Yeah… I don’t even know anymore.
I scrolled down, checking other posts. The atmosphere was completely off.
Title: [Breaking] Sea Dragon Appears in the West Sea
Fuck, they say even multiple S-Class hunters wouldn’t be enough, yet the few S-Class we have are all heading in lololol
Title: Just to be clear, here’s why we only have five S-Class hunters
Statistically, every country should produce a certain number of S-Class per capita. But China used overwhelming capital to sign contracts and naturalize our hunters.
Conclusion: China stole seven of our S-Class.
— This isn’t even a country anymore
Title: [Breaking] Large number of Chinese warships and S-Class hunters set sail for the West Sea
Whoa
Long story short, their message is “We’ll take care of it for you, so hand over gate disposal rights.”
They’re being as obnoxious as possible about it. If that Sea Dragon gets any closer to Korean land, we’re completely screwed…
To summarize: A massive gate had opened in the middle of the West Sea, and a Sea Dragon called Leviathan had emerged. Its destination was still unconfirmed, but the highest probability pointed toward Korea. China’s offer was simple—they would handle the monster in exchange for Korea surrendering disposal rights over all high-rank gates moving forward.
Our high-ranking officials were stuck in the worst possible dilemma. So they were waiting. Praying that the Sea Dragon would change course.
*****
While I was refreshing the gallery, the mood suddenly turned strange.
“…Huh?”
My hand froze while scrolling. Something was off. All these posts had appeared at the exact same time. Every single account was a brand-new one created today. And every last one of them converged on the same conclusion: “Hand the disposal rights over to China.”
This was a tactic I’d used many times before. A method to manipulate public opinion. I’d done it alone, but this scale screamed organized effort.
“Comment brigading. It’s them.”
Chinese astroturfing had crawled all the way into my own backyard.
“…In someone else’s house, no less.”
Acid rose in my throat. For the first time, I was furious on a national level.
*****
In my anger I opened Discord, and a notification popped up right away.
Reading the messages made irritation surge through me. Why did she have to shoulder this burden? The ones who took the money and ran off to China were probably sleeping soundly, while the people who stayed until the end were forced to carry the entire load.
The only real friend I had—the one who moved in next door, bought me chicken, always made things lively even when she was being annoying—was now facing this nightmare. I was genuinely, properly pissed off.
*****
At the same moment, in the West Sea.
Kim Suhyun gave a small, bitter laugh and slipped her phone back into her gear bag.
I should’ve told him not to open the computer.
She stood on the deck of the warship, staring out at the pitch-black sea. Far below the surface, a shadow the size of a mountain range slowly twisted its body. It was the Sea Dragon Leviathan. A monster whose rank couldn’t even be measured. The way it gazed toward the shore made it look like it could swallow everything at any second.
The standoff had already lasted thirteen hours. The Korean S-Class hunter standing beside her had gone deathly pale. On the opposite side, the long line of Chinese warships and their S-Class hunters lounged comfortably, as if they were merely spectators.
“The Korean president really needs to make a decision soon.”
A smug voice drifted over the comms. It was the Chinese Association chairman who had pushed hardest for the disposal rights grab.
“We’ll take care of that Sea Dragon for you. Just sign the ‘cooperation’ document for gate handling.”
Suhyun clenched her teeth. These people had already taken every S-Class Korea could spare. Now they were trying to snatch the gate disposal rights on top of it. The Korean high officials were still refusing to sign. At the same time, they had begged for help from both domestic and international sources, but all they received were empty phrases like “We will do our best to assist” and “This is truly a regrettable situation.” Real support? Zero. No one wanted to risk offending China.
Live cameras from around the world were zoomed in on the Korean S-Class hunters, capturing their expressions of utter despair.
Then a transmission came from the president.
Crackle—crackle—
“This is headquarters. Kim Suhyun, respond.”
“Headquarters, this is Kim Suhyun. Go ahead.”
The surrounding S-Class hunters fell completely silent at her reply.
“We have decided to accept China’s cooperation. Attempt contact with the Chinese side.”
“Headquarters, are you out of your mind?!”
A hunter who couldn’t hold back anymore cut into the channel. He had gripped his fist so tightly that blood was dripping from both hands.
“I’d rather die here! I’d rather bury my bones in this sea than bow my head to those sons of bitches—!”
“Then you’ll kill everyone else too.”
Kim Suhyun’s cold voice cut the outburst short. Her gaze was fixed beyond the defensive line, toward the thousands of trembling refugees.
“It won’t just be us who die. Are you really going to wipe out all those people just to protect your pride?”
“Suhyun, even so, this is…”
“Order received.”
Turning her back on her comrades who were howling like wounded beasts, Kim Suhyun bit her lip hard enough to draw blood and raised the radio to her mouth. Her vision blurred with humiliation.
It was over. They would have to give everything away.
That was the last thought she had.
*****
When sunlight touched the windowsill, exhaustion slammed into me like a tidal wave racing up my spine. My eyelids felt like they weighed a thousand pounds, and all sensation had left my fingertips.
“…Tch.”
I somehow dragged myself to the fridge and cracked open a mana drink. It was the same kind the appraiser old man had given me. My sister had bought it for emergencies. I gulped it down.
Gulp. Gulp.
A thin trickle of energy traveled down my throat. I spread my legs shoulder-width apart, leaned my trembling body against the wall for support, and closed my eyes.
Target designated: HIP 57050
Ting—
The casting collapsed. Why? I had never failed to establish a connection before.
Daytime hours detected. Output severely reduced. Unable to reach distant star.
Rescanning targets…
Recommended target: The Sun.
Warning: Target distance is extremely close. Entire star must be drawn upon.
I opened my eyes again. The Sun. The closest star, the one with the greatest influence on Earth. If I pulled in that entire mass, there wouldn’t be anything left of my body.
But I had no other choice.
“…Fine. Let’s get burned once, shall we?”
A dry, hollow laugh escaped me, and hot blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. I squeezed out every last drop of power I had left.
Target changed to 'The Sun'.
Thump—
My heart began to pound with an unnatural roar. The thin stream of energy flowing through my veins instantly transformed into bubbling lava. A miniature sun formed at my fingertips. I twisted my hand ever so slightly.
*****
The sky above the West Sea split in two without a sound.
The smug Chinese chairman froze mid-sentence. The fleet, the cameras, the Sea Dragon—everything stopped in that instant.
A sun was falling from the sky.
No. A pillar of light—an astral beam—had become a pure white column and slammed straight down onto the crown of the Sea Dragon’s head.
The world flashed white.
The Sea Dragon evaporated. Without a scream. Without a corpse. That colossal mountain range was simply erased inside the light, leaving no trace behind.
The shockwave from the aftermath exploded outward in every direction.
Booong—
The radar systems of the arrogant Chinese fleet all went dead at once. Every monitor filled with nothing but pure white noise.
“Wh-what… what is this…?”
“Did Korea… have something like this…?”
The Chinese chairman foamed at the mouth and collapsed. The documents transferring disposal rights fluttered across the deck.
In the middle of it all, Kim Suhyun stood staring blankly up at the sky. The afterglow of the pillar that had just vanished was slowly scattering across the heavens.
And eight minutes and twenty seconds later, the sun that had disappeared from the sky reappeared.
*****
“…Haa… ugh.”
The moment the pillar of light vanished, my body collapsed with it. The price of drawing on the power of a star—not even a planet—during daylight hours and using it at long range. My head spun. My knees gave out.
I fell face-first into the bed. My face had gone so pale it looked almost translucent. Cold sweat plastered my hair to my forehead, and ragged breaths leaked out between the strands. I didn’t have the strength to move even a single fingertip.
Still…
With a trembling hand, I gathered the last of my strength and pulled my phone closer. The news was broadcasting live footage of the exact moment the Sea Dragon had been annihilated.
“…Heh.”
The corner of my mouth slowly curved upward.
I passed out as if I had been knocked unconscious, falling straight into sleep.