Chapter 17
Chapter 17
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: The Inevitable Fate That Befell the Mob (4)
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From a historical perspective, it was almost inevitable that the Korean government would stake everything on cultivating superhumans.
The homeland, shattered by the Korean War, had no resources left—nothing even resembling infrastructure.
The sole lifeline, the Kaesong dimensional gate, didn't belong to Korea either. The Soviets controlled the entrance, the Americans the exit, leaving Korea with no authority whatsoever.
Even as vast wealth flowed through the gate, Korea had no choice but to bow its head and gratefully accept the scraps left by the two superpowers.
Faced with this unjust reality, some began to think:
—All that's left in this country are its people.
As the Cold War intensified and Korea achieved economic growth with massive U.S. aid... that thought never changed.
No, it only grew firmer.
—People. The only 'resource' left in this country is its people.
Human resources.
The Koreans developed their nation by treating humans quite literally as a resource. Grueling work hours, industrial environments that ignored safety...
There were those who cried out about 'human rights' in the name of humanity, but once the military dictatorship era began, they were all killed or silenced.
In this climate where people were seen as resources, the military took it a step further. Why not turn people into weapons altogether?
Superhumans.
Asymmetric forces made of flesh, blood, and mana.
The government and military threw themselves into superhuman development, evading the eyes of the superpowers.
Fortunately—or perhaps not—the government's superhuman cultivation project yielded no results for a long time.
Enraged by repeated failures, the military suspected the scientists running the project were sabotaging it on purpose.
The scientists, crushed under military boots, tearfully replied: It couldn't be helped.
The key material for superhuman cultivation, mana metal, is monopolized by the Soviets who gassed the dwarves with mustard gas. Elixirs are held by the Americans who dropped a hydrogen bomb on the World Tree, aren't they?
The military refused to accept this reality. They punished the scientists and turned to other methods.
If the direct path won't work, take the roundabout one. That's what America did, and the Soviets too. Find a way. There's plenty of 'resources' in this land.
The unpunished scientists obeyed the military's orders, just as the scientists under the Nazis had.
Human sacrifices, human experimentation, crossbreeding...
In the name of patriotism, countless 'resources' were ground to dust.
And when the necromancers and black mages who had been watching with interest proposed a deal to the government, Korea crossed a river of no return.
But the results were undeniable.
Starting with Jeon Yong-seop, Korea's first native mage, proud homegrown superhumans were born one after another.
Yet even with countless superhumans under their command, the government was not satisfied.
Even after being recognized on the international stage as a superhuman-possessing nation, and reclaiming full control of the Kaesong dimensional gate after the Soviet collapse...
They weren't satisfied. They couldn't be.
Why was Joseon annexed by Japan? Why was the Kaesong gate taken by the Soviets and Americans even after independence?
Lack of power! They didn't have enough power.
No matter how many superhumans they produced, the thirst for power never faded.
They needed stronger superhumans.
Superhumans like the 'Border White' from beyond the gate, who withstood the Soviet offensive and even nuclear weapons—ones so powerful no one could challenge Korea!
To that end, the government crossed the line once more.
How, and what line? That's unknown. But they definitely crossed it.
A line so terrifying that the black mages fled in horror, and even Jeon Yong-seop defected to America.
And the result? Five little girls were born.
Children of dreams, miracles made manifest, the Korean people's masterpiece that would make Korea the world's greatest...
Though born to different mothers, all five shared the same extraordinary gift.
Sensing and wielding mana from birth was just the baseline. Their uniqueness transcended common sense by steps... no, leaps.
They were superhumans who strengthened their bodies, mages who manipulated mana, and even vessels for divinity despite being mages.
In the language beyond the gate: Allmasters.
Beings who could walk every path of mana permitted in the world simultaneously.
Having produced five such once-in-a-millennium geniuses, the Korean government grew drunk on success.
They could openly boast to America and Australia on the world stage—what more needed saying?
But the joy was short-lived. The government soon recalled Jeon Yong-seop's case.
Korea's first mage, empowered by national support, who brazenly defected to America—the original traitor.
Nothing guaranteed these five wouldn't follow his path. Realistically, America could offer more than Korea.
Before such a tragedy repeated, the Korean government inscribed seals in the girls' brains. They convinced themselves it was a rational decision.
Naturally, there was no opposition. In Korea, all humans were resources, and the five sisters were resources for the nation.
Resources... yes, those children were resources. Resources to prove that the Korean people stood above all dimensions.
But soon after, the government's expectations shattered.
The children—the five Allmasters created with immense national resources—fell short of those expectations.
Their innate potential was brilliant. They wielded magic while moving like superhumans and communed with gods while casting spells.
But talent?
Theirs was only somewhat exceptional.
In magic, they couldn't match the Mage Tower's 'vessels.' In divine power, they fell short of the 'Saintess.'
They showed some promise in martial arts Korea had developed independently, but even there, they paled against Jeon Yong-seop's defected son.
The Korean government couldn't accept this reality. Especially maddening was that the traitor's son possessed talent the world admired.
Yes, they went mad. In the hell born of horrific cognitive dissonance and the phrase 'human resources,' they descended further into insanity.
The mad government discarded their previous education methods and devised new ones.
Education only possible in Korea, one that would fill the girls' lacking talents.
Why, don't humans—mere resources—sometimes unleash unknown power when pushed to extremes?
Just as hammering iron forges steel, the government forced extreme situations on the girls. Using their motivations, friends, and parents.
For example: Command them to learn a spell, with a time limit.
Fail within the time? Their motivation gets tortured. Fail the next? A friend. Then...
"...Enough."
Dung Beetle cut the explanation short without realizing it. Seti, who had been laying it all out, gave an awkward smile.
"Ah, sorry. It was a bit uncomfortable to hear over a meal, wasn't it?"
She glanced between the cup ramen in front of Dung Beetle and his face. His frowning reflection stared back from the long-cooled broth.
Dung Beetle fiddled with his chopsticks for a moment, then sighed and looked straight at Seti.
"...Why tell me all this?"
"Well...? I had nothing else to do while watching you eat, and sharing my past with a comrade didn't seem so bad?"
"..."
"This is actually the first time I've told anyone. But it feels better than I thought. Is this why therapists ask about your past?"
Seti covered her mouth and laughed silently. Her lips curved alluringly between her fingers. Dung Beetle shook his head.
"If talking about your past brings you comfort, good. But don't expect to hear mine."
"...I haven't even asked yet? Though I'd listen if you told me."
"No intention of sharing."
Dung Beetle grabbed his ramen, stood, cleared his spot, and tidied up.
Old cleanup crew habits lingered, so he gathered Seti's piled convenience store trash and tossed it too.
As he cleaned, Seti flopped onto the bed and watched.
It was hard to believe this carefree figure had just spilled a massive government secret.
But Dung Beetle didn't find her frivolity pathetic or dismiss her.
People break more easily than you'd think, and each in their own way.
Click. Once Dung Beetle sat back down after cleaning, Seti spoke.
"Meal's over. Shall we pick up where we left off?"
"...What story?"
"Your original revenge plan, Mr. Dung Beetle. We need to know it to make future plans."
Original revenge plan. Dung Beetle drummed the chair, recalling his scheme.
...Was this even a plan? What he'd cooked up was more short-term operation than strategy.
Secure stable black market weapon supply via Jangman, kill the necromancer and government officials to steal the Awakening Potion. Then...
"...Use the stolen potion as bait to draw government attention, while assassinating cleanup guild leaders and high officials."
"Uh... hm... Way sloppier than I expected?"
She was right. A sloppy plan—nearly dying to the necromancer proved it.
"Ah, but considering your talent, it might've worked out okay..."
Seti propped her chin, squinting as if weighing something.
"Hmm, Mr. Dung Beetle. Let's clarify this first. Your revenge targets are everyone linked to the cleanup guild and necromancers, right?"
Dung Beetle nodded slightly instead of answering. Seti tapped her lips, as if she'd expected it.
"From what I know, starting from the Superhuman Division Minister, at least a few hundred people are involved."
Her voice trembled faintly. At least a few hundred—what about the maximum?
"It's the bare minimum. At worst, the scale's big enough to take out the president too."
"...The president."
He'd half-expected it. But expectation and reality differed. Something heavy sank in Dung Beetle's heart.
"And if it goes that far, you'll become Korea's biggest political terrorist and mass murderer... You okay with that?"
"Fine. I've already resolved myself."
Dung Beetle answered without hesitation. His mercy and pity had long been buried with his comrades.
"Resolved, huh... Then you admit we need a new plan?"
"...And you'll make it?"
"No, we'll make it together."
Seti leaned in close to Dung Beetle.
"I'll set the basics... but the rest you'll fill with your improvisation and talent."
"...Sounds like you've already got something in mind."
"Not the fine details yet, but the framework hit me the moment I saw your talent."
Swish. Seti crawled toward him on her knees across the bed.
"To assassinate the president and ministers, you'd have to take a long detour. Old men who value their lives highly—finding them hiding would be hell. But what if you wipe them all out at once?"
"Wipe them out at once?"
The idiom for scooping up every fish in one net... Did she have a plan to gather and eliminate government officials in one spot?
"Surprisingly simple. When government officials gather in one place—boom! How's that?"
"...What, storm the cabinet meeting room?"
Dung Beetle sighed lightly and added:
"Breaching the mages guarding a cabinet meeting would take longer than assassinating ministers one by one."
"Not a cabinet meeting?"
"Same thing repeated. Security for any government gathering is tough to crack."
"What if it's a place they come to meet you?"
"...What?"
His eyebrows arched long at the unexpected reply.
"A place where government officials gather to meet me? Isn't that the hardest part?"
"No, it's possible."
Now right in his face, Seti brushed his hair back with her hand. Dung Beetle met her blue eyes squarely, his expression sour.
"Decent looks, brilliant talent. And... fame. With that, government folks won't be able to stay away."
"Don't get it. Explain more clearly."
"Create a fake identity, then get famous. Patriot hero or traitorous villain—doesn't matter. Just dangle the bait."
"..."
"Once famous... rack up some achievement. The bigger, the better. Even a nationalism-boosting feat works. Politicians will swarm for it."
Only then did Dung Beetle grasp her point. And its flaw.
"...Hate to burst your bubble, but becoming famous enough for the president or ministers to meet me is near impossible."
Seti snorted at his words.
"No way. I guarantee... Get a fake ID and step into the world, and it'll take less than a year. That's how much talent you have."
"..."
"If all else fails, just beat up traitor Jeon Yong-seop's son and you'll be a national hero."
"...Jeon Yong-seop's son?"
The traitor Jeon Yong-seop, Korea's first mage who betrayed the country and defected to America.
According to Seti's government secrets, there was more backstory, but it wasn't Dung Beetle's concern.
But his son... every Korean knew him.
Jeon Yun-seong, the genius boy who knocked out all Korean competitors to win at the Superhuman Olympia.
America's boasted next-gen superhuman, hated unanimously by every Korean.
Even good-natured Dukbae Brother despised him, so average sentiment bordered on loathing. Publicly taking him down with Korean citizenship? He'd dominate news and portals for at least a week.
"Heh, see? Pretty plausible, right?"
"..."
"We'll refine details like ID forgery or fame methods... but it's a solid plan, don't you think?"
With that, Seti trailed her hand down to brush his earlobe.
"What do you say?"
Facing her smiling face, as if the answer was set, Dung Beetle replied.
"Let's give it a shot."
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