Chapter 559

Teleportation.

The spatial-transference magic commonly called Teleport was notoriously difficult, even among mages. Get the coordinates wrong and you could die in an instant. It consumed so much mana that a mage attempting long-distance travel might well clutch the back of their neck and collapse.

The ultimate shitty cost-to-benefit ratio.

But in the end, what mattered was who used it.

In the hands of a Supreme Peak master, even the Three Calamities Sword Technique could rival a divine technique. The same principle applied to a Grand Mage—one of only three among the world’s seven billion people.

“Fucking Korea. I think this every time, but it’s too damn far away. I almost got motion sickness on the way here.”

I gave a quiet laugh at Magic Johnson, the dark-skinned Grand Mage grumbling in front of me.

“Motion sickness is a small price to pay for crossing continents. Any other mage would be seasick on the Sanzu River¹ by now.”

“Sanzu River? What’s that? Is it like Cheonggyecheon in Seoul?²”

“…A little different. Anyway, let’s move on.”

Magic Johnson, who had turned Seoul into a city of hell in one sentence, spotted the people inside the room and broke into a wide smile.

“Hey, what’s up, gays! It’s been a while.”

Team Leader Choi answered Time magazine’s pick for the “world’s most influential LGBTQ person” in the firmest voice imaginable.

“It’s guys, Mr. Johnson. Not gays.”

“Choi, now you’re hurting my feelings. I came running the moment you asked.”

“I appreciate you coming in person, but couldn’t you have sent it by secure email?”

“Is that any way to treat someone you haven’t seen in a while?”

“If I remember correctly, it hasn’t even been a week since we last met. Isn’t that right, Mr. Jin Taekyung?”

I nodded.

“That’s true. Johnson was here for the national funeral, too.”

The national funeral held this time had been enormous. Nearly a million citizens had come to pay their respects, and influential figures from countries around the world had traveled to Korea.

That said plenty about the influence Lee Jungryong had wielded in life. Quite a few of the mourners were presidents, prompting one news outlet to call the gathering a “summit meeting.”

Magic Johnson, one of the symbols of the United States, had been among them.

“Hey, Jin. Is this how you’re going to act? I didn’t come to meet you people. I came simply to pay my respects.”

“Your respects?”

“That’s right. I came to see off an old comrade.”

“Then why did you go to a gay bar in Itaewon? You even changed your face with illusion magic.”

“…Who told you that ridiculous nonsense?”

“The guy who went with you. Pretty conclusive testimony.”

There was no trace left of his initial delight at seeing Johnson. The victim of that day, the Skeleton King, spoke with an enraged expression.

“I knew something was wrong when something touched this body’s backside. That damned human tricked me.”

“You ungrateful monster-murder fucker…”

Look at that expression. I’d believe it if Time had named him the “world’s most violent LGBTQ person.”

Magic Johnson muttered in a threatening voice, then noticed everyone’s eyes on him and quickly adopted a serious expression.

“Don’t misunderstand. I only went to experience Korean culture.”

“Did you sell your tribute to an old comrade on eBay?”

“Jin, don’t be like that. I paid my respects at the funeral ceremony. You know better than anyone what Mr. Lee was like.”

I did. Who could know better than me?

And Johnson was one of the very few people who knew what had happened at the Arch Lich’s stronghold.

“Anyway, we’re meeting again, so let’s stop talking about this. You there, you agree, don’t you? Your name was… Robin Hood, right?”

Unfortunately, Korea’s Robin Hood—Im Kkeokjeong—didn’t have a translation Item. He answered with a frozen expression.

“I-I’m fine, thank you. And you…”

“I’m fine, of course. But I’m afraid what I have to tell you isn’t good news.”

Swish.

With a sigh, Johnson held out a memory chip no bigger than a fingernail.

Team Leader Choi took it and examined it, his eyes sharpening.

“Is this the information I asked for?”

“That’s right. I had to pull a few strings for the first time in a while.”

“I’ll thank you after I’ve reviewed it.”

“Take your time.”

Tap. Whoooooosh.

It happened in an instant.

Team Leader Choi tapped somewhere beneath the table. Every window and opening in his private office was covered, and unseen mana spread across them like a curtain.

Magic?

If I’d noticed it, there was no way Johnson hadn’t. He looked around the office with interest.

“Seven overlapping spells. Your security is tighter than I expected. Only a handful of mages in our Guild could manage magic at this level… Whose work is it?”

“Someone who has been my hands and feet since I was young.”

Kim the Butler and Johnson had never met face-to-face. After that brief answer, Team Leader Choi inserted the chip into his smartphone, and a holographic video sprang up above the screen.

—Krrrraaaaaash!

With a thunderous roar, the ground within a radius of several dozen meters³ heaved over, spraying sand in every direction. It looked like an earthquake.

Around a hundred Hunters of different ethnicities shouted and cursed.

—“Fuck!”

—“Spread out! Spread out now! They’re coming!”

—“Healer! Healeeer!”

Screams and shouts filled the scene. Several buildings were collapsing among the dead trees and sand dunes.

Im Kkeokjeong’s eyes widened as he realized what that meant.

“M-Monster Wave?”

Correct. Modern buildings had no business being inside a Gate.

Every Gate contained at least a minimal amount of mana, and its Grade was determined by the total amount of mana it held.

But if a monster appeared whose power far exceeded the Gate’s Grade, that was a different matter.

That was a Mutated Gate.

A Mutated Gate was already a serious problem. But if the presence of the higher-grade monster caused the Gate’s mana to exceed the total amount it could contain, an even greater disaster awaited.

A Monster Wave.

When a sturdy dam gave way under pressure, the water it had held back came flooding out.

That was what we were seeing in the hologram.

—Sssshhhk!

More than ten enormous scorpions let out strange cries. Buried deep in the sand, they sent their tails shooting up through the surface. Screams erupted, and blood sprayed in every direction.

—“Gaaaaah!”

—“Joseph! Save Joseph!”

—“Commence volley fire!”

Krrrraack!

At the very moment humans and monsters threw themselves at one another in an attempt to kill each other—

Ffft.

The holographic video filling the office vanished as though it had been washed away.

Team Leader Choi had stopped the video. He spoke in a subdued voice.

“When did this happen?”

Johnson’s expression darkened.

“Four days ago. The Mojave Desert. It stretches across several states, but this was closer to Arizona. I don’t know the exact coordinates.”

I frowned as I listened.

“Four days ago?”

“Yes. Four days ago.”

“There should’ve been an official announcement by now.”

Gates were like ticking time bombs with a slim chance of going off. That was why every country kept watch on them, stationed government Hunters—the so-called “bomb disposal squads”—around the country, and required incidents to be announced within a set period.

Then why has everything been so quiet?

Mutated Gates were rare. Monster Waves were dozens of times rarer. An incident like this should have made headlines.

Team Leader Choi and I had both been watching news from around the world lately. It made no sense that neither of us had heard about it.

That left only one answer.

“There was no official announcement.”

Johnson gave a small nod.

“That’s right. The Ministry of National Defense stepped in and covered the whole thing up. As neatly as those monsters turned over the desert.”

“They can do that?”

“Can they? Come on, Jin. This was handled in secret by the United States Ministry of National Defense. You should be asking what they can’t do.”

He let out a dry laugh.

“Twenty-two people died and thirty-five were injured, but that doesn’t change anything. It happened at a military base closed to civilians. Probably made it easier to hide.”

“But that’s… a cover-up.”

“It is. It violates the constitution, too—the one extensively revised after the Great Cataclysm. But sometimes a kind lie is better than a cold truth.”

“…!”

For a moment, it felt as though someone had struck me in the back of the head.

I knew this was wrong. And yet I’d been thinking the same thing as Johnson.

Dark Heaven.

People unprepared for the truth were bound to be thrown into confusion when it arrived without warning. That was true of Dark Heaven in Murim. I, too, believed it was too soon for their identities to become known.

But that wasn’t the only reason the back of my head felt numb.

The vague fear I’d been carrying had just become real.

“How many times?”

I hadn’t said what I was asking about. Johnson’s face went rigid. He understood.

“Johnson.”

“…Fuck.”

He muttered the curse like a sigh, then turned to Team Leader Choi.

“Choi, how many videos are stored on the chip I gave you?”

Team Leader Choi stared silently at the smartphone screen before answering in a voice that sounded almost like a groan.

“Thirty-two.”

“Right. Two were Monster Waves. The rest were Mutated Gates. And that’s only what I managed to get my hands on.”

No one could doubt Magic Johnson’s standing and influence in the United States. But even he could not compare with the intelligence-gathering capabilities of the Ministry of National Defense of the United States, which still claimed to be the most powerful nation in the world.

Thirty-two incidents in the data Johnson managed to acquire alone.

How many more had there been?

At that moment, Team Leader Choi and I fell silent at the same time, as though we had arranged it in advance.

“Wait. Hold on.”

The Skeleton King had been diligently counting something on his fingers. Now he looked at Magic Johnson with eyes as round as lanterns.

“Human I’m no longer grateful to—doesn’t what you just said mean incidents like this have been happening every single day?”

“You loose-lipped monster. Aren’t you taking this a little too lightly?”

“Huh?”

I would have been happier not hearing what Johnson said next.

“Not over the past month. They all happened in the past week.”

“…!”

“…!”

A suffocating silence settled over the room. Then the voice of the only person who hadn’t understood Johnson rang out.

“I-I’m fine, thank you. And you?”

“…”

“…”

To hell with ‘and you.’ Holy shit. Fuck.