The Poncho-Wearing Wizard
[Translator – Aren]
I rolled around on my hospital bed, enjoying a rare moment of rest.
I’d pretty much experienced every kind of stimulation a person could experience in a lifetime over the past few days. My brain felt like it had melted, so I needed a little time to relax and recover mentally.
And I knew exactly how to quickly regain a sense of stability through familiar routines.
-Tap, tap.
I poked at my phone’s cracked screen and went online. To my surprise, the internet was still alive. There were articles everywhere overflowing with speculation and rumors. Honestly, the fact that Korea’s portal sites were still functioning felt like the nation’s last remaining shred of pride.
First, I skimmed through the headline articles giving short summaries of South Korea’s ongoing catastrophic collapse in real time.
[Monster Footage Released from Suwon Station Causes Massive Shockwaves… Government: “Major Announcement Imminent”]
[South Korean Cargo Ships Refused Entry? Experts warn of severe global economic consequences…][First US-China Summit Regarding Seoul Unrest Ends Without Agreement… Details undisclosed.]
[Emergency Martial Law Declared Across Major Metropolitan Cities… Tension between citizens and military reaches breaking point]
Out of those, I clicked one that caught my eye.
[Government freezes related accounts to prevent overseas transfers. Preparing to reclaim foreign assets?]
As expected from a freshly uploaded article, the comments section was absolutely on fire.
[Hey, you~~~~~ Motherfuckers~~~~]
[No traitors here dumping money into US stocks instead of Korean sticks, riiiiight???]
[You fucking assholes! The Korean market is already circuit-boke! What traitors?!]
[Circuit broke my ass… The whole damn stock exchange exploded. Go work in a factory and wait for food rations.]
[momimsorryillsaveandworkhardfromnowon]
People always say humanity lost its warmth and sense of connection once everything went digital in the 21st century. Bullshit.
People keep calling the world cold because they haven’t witnessed the passionate cries of these blazing souls beyond the screen. I, Baek Jemin, despite reaching the ripe age of 28 with absolutely nothing to show for it and quitting stocks forever after losing a million won messing around with trading apps, couldn’t ignore a comment section this beautiful.
[TRAITORS EXPORTING NATIONAL WEALTH GET REKT!!!1!! If you’re Korean, invest only in Korean stocks!]
Step 1. Rekindle the flame of humanity through internet comment sections under news articles.
At that moment, I remembered that my heart was still warm.
After that came step two. Checking the group chat. I figured I should let the guys I usually gamed with know I was still alive. We’d known each other a long time, so I decided to give them one useful life-saving tip as well.
[I saw the monsters. Pro tip.]
The unread marker disappeared immediately. Replies started flooding in right away.
[Holy shit, Jemin’s alive???]
[Hying, wait, monster??? The Suwon Station monsters are real?]
These bastards must have gotten sent to the rear lines or something. Lucky bastards. Then again, they were in a group chat containing someone with real combat experience like me, so I guess good fortune naturally followed them.
As their experienced senior, I generously shared valuable information.
[If you see one and think you can’t stop it and it’s gonna break through, just shove the barrel into your mouth and pull the trigger.]
[Typing...]
[🖕 ]
"Keh. Ungrateful little shits. I try to help, and this is what I get.”
Step 2. Confirm everyone’s alive through group chat messages.
Looks like these idiots had pretty high luck stats too, surviving even after everything turned into this mess. Surely it wasn’t an Amalgam holding a phone and replying to my messages. People could be endlessly pessimistic or endlessly optimistic.
I’ve always known how to live while keeping peace of mind.
Only then did I finally feel like making a call I’d been putting off for a while. As I returned to the home screen to dial, the time suddenly caught my eye.
January 22nd, 3:01 PM.
My stitches had finally come out of my left hand, and according to the chatty doctor, loss of grip strength had been unavoidable, and because the nerve endings had been damaged, pain could flare up again under stress or physical strain.
In other words, under stress or extreme situations, I could trigger pain for my 2nd stage magic simply by stimulating my left hand without needing to hurt myself again.
I mourned the fact that I couldn’t share this wonderful news with anyone. Instead, I poured all my joy into dialing a familiar number.
A few rings later, a hurried voice answered.
[Jemin?]
"Yeah, Mom."
[You little… You should’ve called earlier! Do you know how many days it’s been since we last heard from you?!]
"Well…I mean, I’m in the military right now. It's not exactly easy to make calls whenever I want.”
I was technically a civilian and had a pretty relaxed schedule. If I'd wanted to call, I absolutely could’ve. But admitting that I just didn’t think of it would’ve made things awkward for everyone, so I threw out a convenient excuse.
Mom probably realized that it was just an excuse, though. But it was such a flawless alibi that she couldn’t really push it, so instead she just groaned and started to unload her torrent of nagging.
[Everyone’s losing their minds lately. People are protesting our town too, and I heard martial law troops fired shots somewhere. Nobody’s died yet, but the atmosphere feels awful. And now they’re saying monsters are appearing and all kinds of things…]
Looking at it now, it seemed less like nagging and more like she’d needed someone to vent to.
So I did my absolute best to survive the conversation with every possible interjection I could think of, like 'Yeah,' 'Uh-huh,' and ‘Oh, really?’ After I fought for my life in that way for about 10 minutes, Mom finally changed the topic.
[I heard something terrible happened at Suwon Station. How are you? You're not in Suwon too, right?]
At that moment, instead of answering immediately, I slowly looked around the hospital room.
People missing limbs, groaning weakly as they hovered between life and death. Lee Daemin, who gave me the smallest bit of consideration by plugging in his earphones after meeting my eyes and snorting.
And finally, the city beyond the hospital window. The clear sky. The heavy atmosphere hanging beneath it. Only after taking all of that in did I answer.
"I’m fine. I'm over in Yongin right now. They said security’s gotten tighter over here too, but nothing huge happened like in Suwon.”
[Thank goodness… That’s something at least. Want me to put your dad on?]
"Yeah."
Mom called for Dad, and a brief silence followed.
Maybe because his son had called after so long, Dad picked up pretty quickly.
[Jemin.]
"Yeah, Father."
[What’s with that? Since when’d you start calling me Father? You always called me Dad.]
"Just felt like it."
[You’re weird.]
"Let me move somewhere quieter and call back.”
[Hm. Alright.]
At least both my legs still worked. I grabbed my phone and escaped from everyone’s curiosity and attention, hiding out in the bathroom. After making sure nobody else was inside, I carefully lowered the volume and called again.
[Yeah. I picked up. So?]
"What do you mean ‘So?’ Did you or Mom get contacted about evacuating somewhere?”
What had been the biggest reason I became a civilian Operator in the first place?
It was because they’d promised to guarantee my parents, who were living a comfortable life in Daejeon, could evacuate overseas or somewhere else safe.
I wasn't doubting Lieutenant Shin Hangi as a soldier, but I absolutely did not trust a Korea that could get nuked if containment failed.
Dad answered my worried question in a calm voice.
[Yeah, we got one. Sounded exactly like spam, so I hung up.]
"What about in person? Did nobody actually come by?”
[Some soldiers showed up and said that we should maybe evacuate. Told us to head to a military base first, then go to Pyeontak Port or something. I turned them down.]
"Why?"
[What do you mean ‘why’? Where the hell am I supposed to go, leaving my house behind?]
Looks like I’d seriously underestimated my parents’ homebody tendencies.
Short life experience though it might be, I’d learned one thing. Trying to use logic to persuade older people who’ve already made up their minds was ridiculously difficult. They had life experience as well after all. And most of the time, I simply didn’t have enough experience to counter them.
Not to mention my father was the type who’d hear a perfectly logical argument and simply answer ‘I don’t want to.’ No matter how scholarly or airtight my reasoning was, he wasn’t going to listen.
So I gave up trying to persuade him to evacuate and decided to ask for something else instead.
"Dad, I found something I want to do.”
[Something you want to do? In a situation like this?]
"Yeah. Something I seriously want to stake my life on.”
[...]
I had no idea what was going through Dad’s head.
But one thing was certain: through this cracked phone screen, there was the kind of emotional exchange only fathers and sons could understand. I decided to drive in the final nail.
"I’m lucky enough that I can get you and Mom evacuated. But if you two stay here, I’m worried I won’t be able to give it everything I’ve got because I’ll be endlessly worried about you.”
[...You idiot. What kind of parent leaves their kid behind and runs?]
"A lot of them do.”
[You call me "Dad," and that’s what you think of me?]
Then, after a long sigh, Dad answered with a strangely emotional voice.
[Fine. If a man has found his purpose, then he should be ready to stake his life on it.]
"Dad...!"
[How am I supposed to stop my son if he wants to fight for his country? Idiot. Come to think of it, our family has always been devoted to the nation for generations…]
"I’ll come back once I become a Grand Archmage!"
[Hey, you little bastard, what are you trying to…]
-Click.
I had received my permission. I immediately hung up and felt as though the final lock in my heart had finally come undone.
Now there was nothing left that could stop me.
I headed back toward the hospital room immediately. Even in an emergency, I walked in an orderly and calm manner without running into anyone or sprinting recklessly. I felt this alone proved just how moral and reasonable I was as a person.
Then I calmly lay down on the hospital bed and repeatedly pressed the nurse call button.
A little later, perhaps because I was still receiving special treatment, the chatty doctor came personally.
"How many times are you planning on pressing the nurse button?”
"Doctor, I want to be discharged.”
At those words, the chatty doctor’s relaxed smile twisted into the face of a wrathful demon.
"Baek Jemin-ssi, I’ve told you over and over already that getting shot through the left hand, somehow keeping your thumb attached, and branding your hand with a red-hot gun barrel only ending like this was already miraculously lucky that it can only be attributed to your ancestors blessing you. You’re staying hospitalized until early February while we monitor your condition.”
"But then I’ll heal completely."
"Baek Jemin-ssi, do you think hospitals are respawn points?”
"Doctor, please calm down and hear me out.”
For the sake of the doctor, who knew nothing about magic, I summarized things simply and precisely.
"If my left hand throbs, I can widen my glare at my opponents and freeze them in place.”
"If something starts twitching inside your left hand, don’t glare at others. Stay in the hospital and get antibiotics and painkillers prescribed, Baek Jemin-ssi.”
"Agh..."
This was why you couldn’t deal with ordinary people who knew nothing about magic.
The doctor came from some elite background, spent his school years studying, went to university and studied more, then spent residency studying even more. There was no way someone like that would understand practical, street-style combat magic.
Still, I’d prepared for situations like this in advance.
I immediately brought out my trump card after the chatty doctor left.
[Yes, Operator Baek Jemin?]
"Lieutenant Shin Hangi, please get me out of here.”
* * *
January 23rd, 9:13 AM.
After successfully getting discharged through Lieutenant Shin Hangi’s help, I was given the condition to come back in a week for checkups.
My policy was generally to reject orders from people weaker than me, but the chatty doctor looked like he could beat me senseless in a one-on-one fight without magic or guns, so I decided to immediately comply.
When I arrived at Suwon City Hall Command Post, I occasionally spotted familiar faces wandering around.
I heard singing come from somewhere. Curious, I stopped following the lieutenant and peeked through a slightly open door. Inside seemed to be a gathering of Christians.
"Jesus~who came into me~."
"Jesus~ who came~ into us~.”
Pastor Park Yohan had apparently set up an improvised chapel and was holding a service specifically for Protestants. I thought about saying hello, but I didn’t want to interrupt a solemn worship service.
More importantly, seeing Shitmaster Shin Nain sitting there with earbuds in, completely lost in another world while pounding away on something that looked like a piano terrified me enough to stay away.
Lieutenant Shin Hangi let out a dry chuckle at my reaction and gestured forward.
"Come to think of it, Baek Jemin-ssi, you haven't seen them yet, have you? Father Jung Yonghwan apparently left behind some notes and thoughts regarding Localized Intrusive Structural Alteration phenomena.”
"The priest left something behind?”
"We got permission from the Catholic diocese to share his personal records among civilian Operators. At least among the South Gyeonggi operators.”
"Any new recruits? Besides us?”
"There were about three. One died in the field, and the other two got pulled into frontline containment units because they were needed there. It seemed like they awakened Alteration-type magic of the Heart and Eye branch. There are barely enough people left for Suwon as it is.”
Lieutenant Shin Hangi seemed to have his own problems to deal with.
Anyway, he eventually led me to my room. It was the same former-storage-room setup as before. I slowly turned toward him. Lieutenant Shin Hangi gave me an awkward smile before dramatically pulling something out.
"Spam. Two cans.”
"I actually like Richam better. Next time bring Richam."
Receiving the Spam lifted my mood quite a bit.
After arriving and unpacking, the place felt much more spacious and organized compared to last time when it was a 4-person room. I thought about why for a moment, then it hit me. It was probably because it had become a 3-person room now.
Park Sehyeok…
Even with that awful personality of his, when things reached the point where everyone had to survive together, he held out until the very end. In a sense you could say he’d done his best. The Park Sehyeok I’d seen underground had shown more unexpected sides than I’d imagined.
He wasn’t heroic or self-sacrificing like Father Jung Yonghwan, but even so, I couldn’t deny that he’d tried his hardest.
I quietly clasped my hands together toward the now empty bed and took a moment to pray. Even if I weren't Catholic, Protestant, Buddhist, Muslim, or into shamanism……
Being willing to spare time to honor someone’s end, even if they were a pain in the ass…
Wasn’t that exactly the kind of thing that revealed the greatness of Baek Jemin, the future Archmage?
"Park Sehyeok-ssi, please, if you’re reborn next time, learn to keep your damn mouth shut.”
After finishing my short prayer, I headed toward a room tucked away in a particularly isolated corner amid Suwon City Hall Command Post’s tense atmosphere.
Apparently, it used to house some social welfare department. Once the military moved in, they took all the junk scattered around and reopened it as a dedicated space for wizards. Thinking that this was how humanity progressed, I felt a quiet sense of satisfaction.
Once I’d settled down and finished preparing to study, a familiar face approached from the distance.
"Operator-nim, these are the records Father Jung Yonghwan left behind. Coffee’s coming right up too.”
"Thanks for your hard work.”
There really weren’t many records, I opened them and checked. Just a personal Bible covered in notes and a notebook.
Still, getting records left behind by someone who’d formally studied theology wasn’t exactly a common stroke of luck, so I decided to be satisfied. A few minutes later, the quick-witted driver returned carrying a steaming paper cup of coffee. And I noticed a strange lining in his eyes.
"Is there something you want to say?”
"Operator-nim…”
The driver couldn’t continue for a while.
Then, with a face that has gone as pale as snow, he slowly opened his mouth.
"I-if you see my mom…If she’s there…”
-Slurp.
I took a sip of coffee and gave him a gentle smile.
"Don’t worry."
"Operator-nim…”
"I probably won’t have enough breathing room to recognize your mom’s face anyway. I’ll just be grinding everything into paste.”
"...”
After the quick-witted driver found inner peace and withdrew, I was finally able to look through Father Jung Yonghwan’s records.
Then I encountered a very serious problem.
Despite Father Jung Yonghwan being a native Korean, it seemed he’d thoroughly prepared countermeasures because he was worried other people might misinterpret or misuse these records.
I slowly looked around before reluctantly pulling out my phone.
I took a photo and asked an AI.
[What language is this?]
[The language appears to be Latin. Based on its grammar, it is estimated to be Ecclesiastical Latin used by the Church. The first sentence begins with “O Lord, if this is Your will…”
* * *
O Lord, if this is Your will, are You rebuking me?
A priest must devote himself to spiritual salvation and do his utmost to ensure that lay believers do not misunderstand the teachings established by the Church Fathers. Yet I could not avoid having my faith shaken after delving too deeply into lingering pagan rituals and traditions within the Church.
O Lord, I understand that the birth narrative of Jesus Christ bears disturbingly similar or identical elements to many myths and rituals that came before it, and that explaining this as Satan or the Antichrist attempting to obscure the coming of the true Savior belongs not to the realm of logic, but of faith.
Yet these recent trials seem as though they were devised to mock the Incarnation and the human body itself. I watched believers devoted to You collapse before this blasphemous tide. Were they weak? Was their faith insufficient?
If so, then how strong can my faith truly be?
The military calls us users of Localized Intrusive Structural Alteration phenomena, but most people simply call us wizards. Such sorcery refers to the arrogance of mankind believing itself capable of bending the laws of nature and the universe according to its will. A title that clergy serving the Lord ought to be wary of.
And so, as a priest, I suffer between the voice telling me to submit to this trial in obedience and the desire of a human being, afraid and desperate to impose my own will.
O Lord, should I fall into their hands, please let me submit myself according to Your will.
* * *
I closed the record for the moment and looked through the others.
Only then did I finally find something useful.
[It appeared that only once one becomes capable not merely of reading Alteration-type magic but also of speaking it aloud can one truly wield magic to its full power. Writing exists to be read, written, and spoken as language, therefore, while the military has secured these symbols known as magic symbols, nothing is yet known regarding coalizing and utilizing them beyond merely reading and understanding them. Tone, pronunciation symbols, and similar elements must be discovered… And considering the side effects that their true effects may bring, it is presumed necessary to modify them into softened pronunciation using other languages.]
[However, since no one possesses knowledge regarding pronunciation symbols or tonal systems, research into magic symbols can only proceed cautiously. Someone capable of reading them must be found. Otherwise, may the Lord guide me within the fog.]
This was it.
I now had one more reason to dive into the fog.
I quickly shut the records before anyone could see and even felt the urge to tear them apart but stopped myself. After all, competition could only be fair and just if everyone started from the same line.
Still, I couldn’t stop my heart from pounding frantically.
"Hehehehehehe..."
If only Father Jung Yonghwan had still been alive.
I hurriedly copied down notes to pass the time. All the answers to this bizarre situation were hidden within the fog.
Then I suddenly felt a strange sense of regret.
If only the Amalgams and the other monsters had been friendly toward humans, I could’ve overcome their disgusting, horrifying appearances and enjoyed some horror-themed Disneyland experience running around in the fog together with them.
But then I remembered Father Jung Yonghwan’s final moments. And my enthusiasm instantly evaporated.
Yeah. What kind of coexistence nonsense was that?
I’d survive on my own.
No matter how much I like people, I don’t want to live that close to them.