Chapter 411


Whose voice was that?

Or was it a boy’s voice?

From the fog, a voice naturally evoked a sense of mission within them—a feeling of “we must save people.” The emotion buried in those few short words stirred their bodies into action.

“Ugh!”

And so, those who attempted to move were all enveloped in intense pain.

Some, like Officer Kim, found their legs grotesquely twisted, while others were pinned beneath the rubble of a building. Some bore wounds from a sharp piece of metal that presumably fell from the ceiling, and some had legs so severely injured that their bones were exposed.

Realizing they couldn’t move their legs, a wave of anxiety washed over everyone, yet they sighed in relief at the thought that they still had guns or grenades to protect themselves.

And just as they were feeling relieved, a visitor arrived.

“Help us!”

Their cries for rescue pulled at people’s nerves.

Packed with fervent emotion—so excessive that it was impossible to ignore the desperate plea.

In response to this outcry, people reacted in various ways.

“Ugh, over here! Come this way!”

Some couldn’t disregard the cry for help, even though they were injured, and called out from their location.

“Hey, there’s someone here! I’m hurt too, but having two is better than being alone!”

Some shouted to allure others to lend a hand for their legs.

“Stop! Who’s there?”

Some aimed their guns and maintained their guard.

“…”

And some others, silenced, stifled their gasp of a cry for help.

Thus, people corresponded to the shout in their unique ways.

And the outcome was:

“人!人だ!音があっちから聞こえた!”

A spectacle of Japanese that made one doubt their own ears.

Clatter.

Footsteps echoed throughout the fog, rushing desperately across the island, filled with determination to find people. Yet, that fervor wasn’t directed at finding someone to rescue them; it was laced with clear hostility.

And at the end of that sprint appeared a person holding a gun.

A boy was wielding what seemed to be a Japanese rifle.

“Die!”

The boys glared at them with eyes full of aggression and combativeness.

To the one who had shouted loudly to help the boy,

To the one who called for the boy for the sake of their own legs,

To the one who, though ready to shoot, aimed their gun towards the direction of the sound,

To the one who, while holding their breath, turned away from the plea for rescue.

As the boy aimed his gun, their reactions were equally intense.

“Is that a boy…?”

Some were so surprised that they forgot to pull the trigger, realizing the boy was aiming at them.

“Hey! You seem to understand Korean… Were you forcibly brought here and stuck like this? Let me help you, just put down that gun! I might look this way, but I have some connections; I can protect you from those who are threatening you! Even if your family is being held and threatened, I’ll hire mercenaries with my own money to save you! So please don’t be foolish and lower your hands! A kid like you shouldn’t be wielding a gun!”

Some realized the one aiming at them was a boy and tried to persuade him verbally.

Bang-!

Some, with no hesitation, pulled the trigger when someone pointed a gun at them.

Tatata-tang!

Some instinctively moved their fingers and sprayed bullets wildly.

Thus, people confronted the situation in their diverse ways.

This was their choice and a turning point that would shape their lives.

What would the outcome be?

* * *

“…Let those who perform holy wars in the way of God lay down their lives in this world for the next. Those who perform holy wars will be rewarded greatly by Me, whether killed or victorious. I tell you, no remaining believer shall be the same as those who go forth to perform holy wars by giving their wealth and lives. God bestows greater grace upon those who sacrifice wealth and life for holy wars than upon those who remain. Those who give their wealth and life shall receive compensation unmatched by others! The difference between that compensation and others is wider and deeper than that between heaven and earth! So, O faithful ones, do not fear to participate in holy wars.”

Jinseong recited the invocation as if memorizing scripture while wandering through the fog.

Beside him stood water ghosts, their rotten smell masked by the mist. The ground he walked on was filled with the groans of fallen people. The scene was ominous and wicked, reminiscent of a demon general leading evil spirits from hell into this world.

However, what came from his mouth were sacred words inscribed in a holy book.

“Oh, benevolent and compassionate. God raises those who participate in holy wars (مُجَاهِدِين) and bestows tolerance and mercy upon them, for God is the most generous and merciful. Truly, are you compassionate, or are you not? There is a tier of rewards God prepares for those participating in holy wars, one incomparable to any other! The difference between that reward and the others is broader and deeper than the gap between heaven and earth! So, O faithful ones, do not fear to engage in holy wars.”

Reciting the sacred words, Jinseong looked at the people.

What appeared before his eyes were the blessings of magic suffusing their bodies.

Markings of the magic once used in the Middle East to summon warriors.

In dreams, those marked would fight against enemies, testing the qualities a warrior must possess, granting courage and temporarily augmenting their physical strength.

This magic, seemingly created long ago, astonishingly persisted to this day, still in use by some mercenary group in the Middle East to recruit new members… Active and in function. Of course, its existence was treated as a closely guarded secret, passed down only to those at the top of the mercenary group, thus the cost of magic wasn’t that hefty.

“Hmmm. Let’s see. Blood and bravery. This one has defeated an enemy and has seen their blood. This one bears the blood’s symbol. Though not brave and lacking combativeness, they instinctively moved and vanquished the foe.”

Jinseong gazed at the small markings appearing on the bodies of the fallen.

These markings were incredibly faint but discernible if one focused.

The symbol of blood.

It represented that the person bound by the magic successfully defeated the enemy in the dream.

The symbol of bravery.

It denoted that the one bound by the magic fought undeterred, even in exceedingly dire circumstances.

Those who bore only the symbol of blood were timid yet had succeeded in killing someone, thus possessing qualities suitable for a warrior.

Those marked with the symbol of bravery, for whatever reason, had nurtured thoughts of engaging in battle against the enemy, thereby holding the qualities of a warrior.

Thus, it is said, these individuals are warriors.

Having seen the blood and overcome the enemy, they are warriors; having harbored valor in their hearts and vanquished the foe makes them warriors.

“Hmmm.”

They are said to be noble and honorable beings.

There is no mercy, no compassion among them.

Only the existence of vanquishing foes, surviving, and achieving victory.

“Unexpectedly, the enemy…”

But realistically, there cannot be so many of them.

Especially if they have been indulged in peace.

Thus, the existence of warriors is indeed precious.

Just as no more than a handful of jewels could be mined from breaking stones, these too signify the jewels one could find among people.

These, indeed, are treasures.

“Are they cowards dulled by peace, or could it be that pity prevents them from striking?”

Jinseong observed the unrefined stones that could not become jewels.

Police officers losing consciousness.

Even seeing the enemy displaying hostility towards them in dreams, they were deluded by appearances and failed to pull the trigger.

Had it been real warfare, they all would have perished.

They would have died from the gun fired by a child they were meant to protect.

Hence, they cannot become warriors.

They are cowardly individuals bereft of the will to fight, laden with unwanted compassion and tenderness in battle.

They have not passed the test.

“Now, the choice’s results are out. You, the wretches that have risen from the water. I shall loosen my reins for you to feast on those I designate as prey. Show your cruelty at will, satisfy the greed and desire embedded deep within you by drinking blood and chewing flesh.”

Jinseong began pointing with an expressionless face.

His index finger pointed at the fallen, and this was repeated multiple times.

[KKYYAAAAA-!]

And at the end of the finger pointing came the shrieks akin to a ghostly cheer.

As Jinseong granted them approval, the ghosts approached their targets, biting into their bodies, drinking their blood, and ripping apart their flesh.

Those still unconscious were helplessly torn apart and devoured, unable to put up any resistance as their breaths gradually came to an end.

On the bodies of those who died, symbols remained.

The symbols of blood and bravery.

“This is the irony of the world.”

Those who survived by killing the boy in the dream greeted death in reality.

The reason being they are warriors.

“If you choose a life of a mercenary, remember this.

If there is a will to fight, then that is a warrior. Even a child with a gun is a warrior, and a woman approaching with a bomb strapped to her is also a warrior.

If there is no will to fight, that is a civilian. A retired mercenary, a burly young man—they are civilians.

Distinguish clearly between warriors and civilians. And never show mercy to a warrior.

Warriors can be killed, and must be killed.”

Recalling the twisted memories of time, Jinseong let out a faint laugh.