Chapter 383

The jet Wei Fenghu had prepared looked nothing like what I had imagined.

It’s spacious. And fancy.

Through the partly open cabin door, I could see a luxurious table and one of those so-called chairman’s chairs.

Team Leader Choi, who was standing beside me, informed us that the business jet we were looking at cost nearly one hundred billion won¹ per plane, then added,

“I never expected to see an aircraft reserved for state guests here.”

“That is only natural. The two of you are state guests of our country.”

“Ah.”

“Thanks to you, we were able to save countless soldiers and Hunters. None of us—not even me—will ever forget the help you gave us today.”

“…Ah, yes.”

I would have preferred it if they dealt with the fine dust and historical distortions first.

Still, I boarded the jet, privately hoping China was a more conscientious country than I gave it credit for.

The waiting pilot saluted us—or, more precisely, Wei Fenghu—with crisp, disciplined movements.

“You have arrived, Comrade Minister of National Defense.”

“Are we ready?”

“This aircraft and all its escorts are ready. We await your order.”

I wondered what he meant by “escorts,” but then I looked through the window and saw five sleek fighter jets on the runway, their lights blinking as though signaling us.

What the hell are those?

I’d only ever seen things like that in war movies. Were we flying off to fight a battle or something?

Wei Fenghu saw my eyes widen and explained.

“The details have not yet been made public…but as you know, Sichuan Province is currently in a state of war. Magical interference has disrupted communications, and attacks by flying monsters are frequent. An escort is essential for our safety.”

“Is that really true?”

The situation was more serious than I’d thought.

The Wyvern had only attacked us in passing while raiding Chengdu International Airport. But if the same thing was happening throughout Sichuan Province, that changed everything.

“I wish I were lying.”

Perhaps merely thinking about the current situation exhausted him. Wei Fenghu, who seemed to have aged considerably in a short time, leaned back into the soft seat.

“It seems we must part ways here. We will meet again soon, Senior Colonel Xiao Shen.”

Unlike us, Xiao Shen had not boarded the aircraft. He stood rigidly at attention and saluted.

“Yes, Comrade Minister of National Defense. I will complete my mission as quickly as possible and rejoin you. And, gentlemen…”

“Good. I expect great things from you.”

Perhaps because he had achieved such impressive accomplishments, a pleased smile passed across Wei Fenghu’s lips as he looked at the promising young Hunter.

Team Leader Choi gave him a polite bow. I waved.

“See you next time. You fought really well today.”

It was only one sentence.

But the moment Xiao Shen heard my words, his eyes grew as wide as serving trays. His body trembled as though he had been electrocuted, and then he shouted at the top of his lungs.

“Th-Thank you! I will devote myself to every task with the utmost loyalty,² so that I never disappoint you, Mr. Jin!”

“…You don’t need to go that far.”

“May your august self remain safe! Loooyalty!”

“‘August self’? What are you—”

Whack!

“Urk!”

“…”

That looked like a textbook example of poor judgment.

He’d saluted so hard that the edge of his hand struck him in the eyebrow.

As I stared dumbfounded at Xiao Shen clenching his teeth against the pain, the cabin door closed and our business jet began to take off.

“That guy is, well… How should I put it? He’s quite a character.”

Wei Fenghu gave a quiet laugh at my awkward observation.

“Can you blame him? His idol praised him.”

“Excuse me?”

“Many young Hunters in our country admire you, Mr. Jin. He is no exception.”

What the hell? Was I a Korean Wave star?

Come to think of it, for a four-star general with enough power to make birds fall from the sky, Wei Fenghu seemed unusually attentive to his subordinates.

Or maybe Xiao Shen was simply that promising.

Ah, but…

—Team Leader. How important is the Minister of National Defense under the Central Military Commission, exactly? I’m not very familiar with the structure over here.

Team Leader Choi flinched at my Sound Transmission, then replied through Message Magic.

—If you compare it to our country, he is the Minister of National Defense. Of course, this is China, and Wei Fenghu is the current Chairman’s right-hand man, so his power is considerably greater.

—Ah.

So he’s a lot like me. I’m the Minister of gukbap.³

One special serving of sundae-guk⁴ was enough to handle three bowls of rice.

Of course, Wei Fenghu could probably erase three cities with a single pointed finger.

And now, that powerful figure of the People’s Republic of China was leaning his upper body toward us and asking,

“It seems we have much to discuss during the flight. Would you not agree?”

Team Leader Choi and I nodded solemnly and opened our mouths.

“Of course. First, I would like to ask what exactly is happening in Sichuan—”

“But do you happen to have any boiled eggs and soda? I’m hungry after fighting so hard.”

“…”

“…”

Apparently, they didn’t.

“We do.”

“…?”

“…?”

They actually did.

The People’s Republic of China.

As its formal name suggested, the people of this vast and imposing nation still adhered to socialism as their national ideology.

About twenty years ago, the Chairman at the time—who had cemented the foundations of his dictatorship by securing lifelong rule—died during the Great Cataclysm. Power then passed to a far more moderate administration, but the substance of the system remained unchanged.

—What was the dead Chairman’s name again? Pingping? Paengpaeng?

Team Leader Choi, who had been chiming in as Wei Fenghu spoke, silently moved his lips. His poker face was astonishing.

—Just so you know, saying something like that here could get you into serious trouble.

—That’s why I’m using Sound Transmission—no, Message Magic.

—I’m telling you to be careful. Some exceptional mages of A rank or higher can eavesdrop on Message Magic.

—Anyway, what was his name? Pingping or Paengpaeng? If you don’t tell me, I won’t be able to sleep tonight.

—…Pingping.

You were going to answer me in the end anyway.

Now that I was finally satisfied, I listened closely to Wei Fenghu’s words.

“No one could have predicted it.”

Sichuan Province was enormous, both in area and in population, with tens of millions of residents.

And it had all begun in Gaoping District, part of Nanchong City—one of the roughly twenty administrative divisions in Sichuan Province.

“As you know, our country has more than ten times as many Gates as other nations. That made us one of the countries hit hardest during the Great Cataclysm, and we have managed them with corresponding rigor ever since.”

But human power could not control even natural disasters, and the Monster Wave was a calamity far worse than any natural disaster.

“We received word that the mana levels in Gaoping District had suddenly spiked exactly thirteen minutes after the first signs appeared. And by the time Lei Fei, head of the Public Security Armed Forces Department stationed in Sichuan Province, arrived at the scene with the Hunters under his command…everything was already too late.”

“Lei Fei?”

The name was unfamiliar. Yet for some reason, a memory surfaced.

That video Team Leader Choi showed me at the Guild House before we left.

I still remembered it vividly. A city plunged into utter chaos beneath the glow of a hologram, and one man at the head of the Hunters, cutting his way through the monsters.

His weapon had shone with a dazzling aura.

“I think I’ve seen him before. Was he the man in the video you sent us…?”

“That is correct.”

Wei Fenghu hesitated, then continued with a faint sigh.

“He was one of our country’s S-rank Hunters. Of course, neither of you would have known about him.”

We wouldn’t have known?

There were only twenty S-rank Hunters in the entire world. Each of them was an absolute powerhouse.

The fame and status they enjoyed far surpassed even those of a Supreme Peak master in Murim.

The internet, news, and social media were their stages, while microphones and cameras followed them like shadows.

The common people of Murim regarded martial artists with equal parts wariness and curiosity, but modern people saw Hunters as objects of pure admiration. They were global celebrities.

And we’re supposed to have never heard of an S-rank Hunter?

Wei Fenghu had phrased it indirectly, but his meaning was clear.

Team Leader Choi’s gaze met mine in midair. At that moment, we were thinking the same thing.

An undisclosed S-rank Hunter.

No—to be precise, an S-rank Hunter deliberately concealed by the Chinese government.

I’d only ever heard rumors about this. So they were true?

An S-rank Hunter was practically the face of a nation.

But unlike the weak, who struggled desperately to avoid being underestimated, the strong concealed their claws.

China was already known to possess two S-rank Hunters. Clearly, it had no intention of revealing the full extent of its strength.

Perhaps the same was true of the world’s other major powers.

Good grief. Even after surviving the Great Cataclysm, they’re still playing this kind of game of nerves.

It was pathetic, but at the same time, I thought I could understand it. Diplomacy. Politics. I felt as though I had caught a glimpse of the truths of a world I had never known, and the feeling was strange.

Team Leader Choi, however, was sharper than I was.

“You said he ‘was’ one of your country’s S-rank Hunters. That sounded like the past tense.”

Wei Fenghu answered with a devastated expression.

“…Lei Fei disappeared a week ago, when the first Monster Wave began. The Hunters of the Public Security Armed Forces Department under his command vanished with him.”

“Are you certain he is only missing? Could he perhaps…”

“We could not confirm his death. After that video was recorded, the monster known as the Lich—no, the Arch Lich—blocked all communications and surveillance with mana.”

Team Leader Choi and I both groaned.

At our reaction, Wei Fenghu asked in a hoarse voice,

“Do you also believe Lei Fei is dead?”

“Hmm.”

“Uh…”

Missing for a week in the middle of that hellscape? The outcome was practically a foregone conclusion.

Team Leader Choi shot me a look, so I cautiously began,

“Well, you never know what might happen to someone, but…”

“The other experts said there was a one-hundred-percent chance he was dead. Useless windbags, every last one of them.”

Come on. They sound like real experts to me.

Anyone who confidently claimed Lei Fei was still alive after seeing that situation deserved to be fired on the spot. That was simply the truth.

“But I disagree. Lei Fei—my boy—is certainly alive.”

“I hope so too, but realistically speaking…”

“He is my only nephew. My sister was sickly from childhood and died in childbirth. I took in her baby before he was even weaned and raised him as my own son.”

“Excuse me?”

His nephew? He raised him like a son? What the hell was this?

As I sat frozen like a statue, Wei Fenghu asked me with damp eyes,

“What were you about to say? After ‘realistically speaking.’”

Fuck. This is the worst crisis I’ve ever faced.

The words lodged in my throat. I barely managed to force them out.

“I was going to say that, realistically speaking, there’s still a chance he might be alive.”

“Is that so? Is that really true?”

“Ah, yes. But the odds are extremely slim—”

“Thank you, Mr. Jin!”

“No, General. Commander. Supreme Leader. Please hold on and let me finish…”

He seized my hand.

Too late. Wei Fenghu was no longer listening. Instead, he clasped my hand between both of his, his eyes brimming with tears.

“May I ask you one favor?”

I really wish you wouldn’t.

Contrary to my desperate hopes, a few seconds later, the one sentence I had expected pierced my heart.

“If you happen to meet that boy someday, could you bring him back to me?”

“…”

“I beg you.”

Over Wei Fenghu’s shoulder, I saw Team Leader Choi shaking his head.

What if I’d just been firm from the start? I regretted it, but it was too late.

In the end, there was only one answer I could give.

“I will. But…”

“Mr. Jin.”

“Yes?”

“You need not say it. I am already prepared for what may happen.”

“…!”

Wei Fenghu wiped his eyes with his sleeve. In an instant, he was no longer a middle-aged man worried about his family. He had become the Minister of National Defense under the Central Military Commission once more.

“This is enough. No one else was willing to step forward, but you have given me your word, Mr. Jin. I can rest easier now.”

“I can’t promise anything.”

“I did not need someone’s boastful guarantee. What I needed was a thread of hope.”

Just as Wei Fenghu murmured those words, the aircraft began to descend, accompanied by a sudden sensation of floating.

Outside the window, beneath a blanket of deep darkness, I could see rugged mountain ridges, lights moving without pause, and military vehicles.

“It seems we have arrived.”

I stared out at the landscape as though possessed, then asked,

“Where are we?”

“A temporary operations headquarters.”

“No. That’s not what I meant.”

“Hmm?”

“For some reason, that mountain feels strangely familiar.”

“That cannot be. As far as I know, you have never visited our country… Ah, perhaps you saw it in a photograph?”

“A photograph?”

“It is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. That would certainly be possible.”

With a faint smile, Wei Fenghu continued,

“Temporary operations headquarters. Welcome to Mount Qingcheng.”