Kwaaaaang!
The irregular knight-class infected far in the distance vanished.
To be precise, everything from its head down to its chest did.
Beyond the black fallout, the body that had been pushing aside steel beams froze. It never even managed to look this way. There was no roar, no counterattack. After the white light passed, only a round hole remained in the ruined wall behind it.
The sound came afterward.
Kugugugung!
The delayed vibration overturned the black dust. Molten shards of metal scattered, and the dust pooled among the debris surged up all at once.
The remaining lower half took another two or three steps.
Black flesh surged up from the severed waist. Fibers stretched out as if groping through the air, but the upper body they were meant to seize was already gone. Its knees belatedly buckled, and the body, with only the portion below the waist remaining, collapsed sideways. Even after it hit the ground, the black flesh and fragments of armor writhed as if boiling.
Where the upper body should have been, only a charred pit and lingering energy that had yet to disperse remained.
I did not take my eyes off it.
A distance I would never have been able to reach before. Even if I locked onto it with spiritual sense, my attacks would not have reached.
— Wow.
For once, AI was at a loss for words.
— Waaow. Snake, you saw that, right? You saw it, right? No, of course you saw it. You fired it. But still, this is seriously…
I did not move right away either.
It was more powerful than expected.
The residual heat beneath my scales rose belatedly, and the circulation inside my body twisted once before returning to its place. The side that had fired was not unscathed either. The scales used in the shot had fallen away, and only a burning sensation remained where they had been torn loose.
Even so, the result was more than enough.
This thing is more useful than I thought.
— Than you thought?
AI’s voice immediately came back to life.
— What do you mean, than you thought? You saw that power just now. Who did the calculations? Who stabilized the acceleration? Who corrected the firing angle? Me. Me. The great superintelligence AI.
Fine.
Your calculations were right this time.
— Huh?
AI’s voice jumped.
— I’m saving that exact statement. No taking it back later.
Noisy.
I narrowed my spiritual sense down to a single point. Beneath the collapsed knight-class remains, I sensed energy that had not yet dispersed.
It never managed to look this way until the end.
I had once been hit by an attack like that.
It was true that I had let my guard down. But that alone was not enough to explain it. The attack had come from beyond the range my spiritual sense could detect first, and there had been no time to twist my perception with ocular arts. By the time it entered my field of vision, it was already on my scales.
If not for the Vajra Talisman, it would have pierced straight through my torso.
When I asked what that attack had been, AI calculated for a long time.
— It seems to be a type of compact railgun. Based on my records, that’s what it looks like. Originally, because of power efficiency issues, it should have been a fairly ambiguous weapon except for special purposes… but what hit you was different. Its size was reduced, but its impact force was far higher than the records.
A railgun.
A weapon that pushed a projectile between two rails divided into cathode and anode. I knew that much.
Yin and yang.
There was a similar division of energy inside my body.
Daoist power and demonic power.
It was an absurd thought.
Could I use that principle with my own energy?
— What?
AI asked back.
It went quiet for a moment.
— ……Huh?
It sounded as if it had not expected that.
— This isn’t complete nonsense.
After that, I did not stray far from the barrier.
I hunted only as many infected as necessary. Part of the recovered energy was added to the circulation inside my body, and part was used to prepare scales for raising the Vajra Talisman and Thunderbolt Talisman. If another attack like that came, merely enduring it would not be enough.
The first thing I modified was the Vajra Talisman.
I chose several scales and divided the pattern among them. I altered the talisman art, which had only endured the moment of impact, so that it could also withstand the recoil at the moment of firing. If the adjustment was wrong, the scales fell away before the projectile could even launch.
I bound the Thunderbolt Talismans separately as well.
A single one could not gather the force. I linked dozens of them at short intervals and matched which scale would be used at which moment. Too early, and the circulation inside my body jolted out of line. Too late, and the force scattered.
AI focused first on efficiency calculations.
It said that railguns were obstructed not by the method of pushing the projectile, but by gathering and withstanding that force. Power leaked away, the rails failed to endure it, and after a single shot, the launcher would break down first.
Inside my body, there had been a flow of yin and yang interlocking and rotating from the beginning.
Daoist power and demonic power.
When I placed the Thunderbolt Talismans between them, the scattering force gathered into a single point.
At the moment of firing, the scales had to endure first.
The Vajra Talismans raised upon the scales received that moment. Once I altered them to withstand the firing recoil, their performance improved more than expected.
In exchange, the scales fell away after firing.
AI’s calculations kept changing.
The interval between Daoist power and demonic power, the order and timing for using the Thunderbolt Talismans, the positions of the scales where the Vajra Talismans should be inscribed, the distance I had to grasp with spiritual sense, and even the exact moment to apply ocular arts.
If even one thing went wrong, the projectile did not fire. Either the scales fell away first, or the circulation inside my body spun uselessly.
Only after several failures did I begin to grasp the sensation just before firing.
If another attack like that came flying, simply taking the hit and enduring would not be enough.
I had to see first, and fire first.
The shot I fired today came at the end of that preparation.
My spiritual sense narrowed onto the distant knight-class like the eye of a needle. I confirmed even the point inside its chest where the contaminated energy was gathered, and my ocular arts delayed only the brief instant in which it could not look this way.
The Vajra Talismans endured the moment of firing, and between Daoist power and demonic power, the Thunderbolt Talismans connected in order.
— Good. Now.
The result after that, I had already seen.
— Which means my share in this is huge.
AI cut in triumphantly.
— At this point, we need to give it a name.
A name?
— It’s too much of a waste to just call it an application of the Thunderbolt Talisman. Long-range high-speed penetration. Sniping. A Daoist-art railgun. So…
AI paused briefly for effect.
— Thunderbolt Shot.
Thunderbolt Shot.
A technique that fired the Thunderbolt Talisman into a single point.
Not bad.
Fine. Thunderbolt Shot.
— Good. Technique name approved.
The scales used for firing fell away. Neither the scales bearing the Vajra Talismans nor the scales inscribed with the Thunderbolt Talismans remained. The circulation inside my body also spun empty for a moment.
Using it consecutively was difficult. If it missed, the loss was significant, and if the target moved quickly, the calculations had to be done again.
Even so, I had gained it.
A way to attack at distances I could not reach before.
I slid toward the collapsed knight-class.
There was no upper body. I absorbed the remaining contamination. As expected of a knight-class, the quantity was dense.
I do not have the capacity to fire repeatedly right now.
After confirming it in actual combat, the balance of my hunt changed.
I picked out and killed the infected, then added the remaining energy to the circulation inside my body. I also prepared new scales to raise the Vajra Talismans and Thunderbolt Talismans. I used Thunderbolt Shot sparingly.
After several failures, the distortion in the shot decreased. Projectiles that had missed and only pierced ruined walls began to draw closer and closer to the center of the chest.
Similar traces began to remain.
Infected with their chests blown away.
Round holes pierced through the walls behind them.
No signs of anything closing in, only a single point erased from afar.
At some point, the momentum of the creatures that had been swarming in response to energy broke. Infected of similar size began circling at a distance, avoiding my path.
A fear stronger than the stench of blood had been left behind.
It was not an entirely good sign. The traces of a predator had been left just as thickly.
I swallowed the last remaining energy and turned away.
The sky was still black.
---
Dam Sohye sat leaning against the bed.
Most of the tubes had been removed, but the blue marks on the backs of her hands were clear. As if even her own body weight was too much to bear, her breathing was faint.
The chief administrator standing beside her remained silent, holding only an open terminal.
“Set the official pretext as a reinvestigation into the death of Captain Yeon Mujin.”
The chief administrator’s hand stopped.
“Director.”
“Speak.”
“The matter of Jasowi’s total annihilation has yet to be settled. Even Daoist Master Hyeonyang did not return. Your return procedure has not yet been presented to the board.”
“I know.”
“We are also waiting to respond to the Seonghwi Council’s protest. If we reopen Captain Yeon Mujin’s case at this point, it will not end within the External Strategy Office.”
Dam Sohye slowly curled her dry fingertips. Her body was still struggling, but the light in her eyes had not cooled.
“Proceed in a way that ensures it does not end there.”
The chief administrator could not answer immediately.
“Submit it together with the procedure for my return as Director of External Strategy. Review everything again—the route Jasowi left behind, the communication records that were cut off in District 30, and even the internal reports that were bound up after Captain Yeon Mujin’s death.”
“It will go all the way up to the chairman’s office.”
“That is why I am telling you now.”
Dam Sohye paused to steady her breath.
“Open the Taecheong Secret Archive.”
The corners of the chief administrator’s eyes stiffened.
Only the faint operating sound of the terminal remained in the hospital room. On the open screen, the unresolved reports seemed to fall still.
No one could speak right away.
“Surely… you mean to accept it?”
“Yes.”
“That is something you have avoided for a long time, Director.”
“I know.”
“Once the Taecheong Secret Archive is opened, there will be no turning back. It will not end with merely your return as Director of External Strategy.”
Dam Sohye looked at the chief administrator.
“I have no intention of delaying any longer.”
The chief administrator closed his mouth.
His fingertips had stopped at the edge of the terminal. It was the hand of someone hesitating one last time before submitting a report.
Dam Sohye continued.
“Send a request for materials to the Seonghwi Council as well.”
The chief administrator’s eyes moved again.
“The District 30 investigation team’s records. The point where the core reaction disappeared. Reports on unclassified class entities. Sensory comparison data.”
“The Seonghwi Council will not hand over such materials willingly.”
“Send it under the name of the External Strategy Office.”
“It may be interpreted as official pressure.”
“Send it that way.”
This time, strength entered the hand holding the terminal.
A set of footsteps passed outside the hospital room. Only after the sound faded beyond the door did the chief administrator look at Dam Sohye again.
Dam Sohye did not avert her gaze.
“I heard it inside the investigation team’s vehicle.”
Only then did the chief administrator’s expression change.
“They said the point where Captain Yeon Mujin died, the point where the core reaction was cut off, and the report of an unclassified class entity all overlapped.”
Dam Sohye’s fingertips stiffened atop the blanket.
“At the time, I was not in a position to interfere.”
“Director.”
“Now, Wudang must look into it again.”
The chief administrator asked nothing more.
Dam Sohye lowered her eyes for a moment.
In her hazy memories, gray lingered. Yeon Mujin’s smile. Baek Mugyeong’s tears of blood. And the unfamiliar sensation that had brushed past her at the point where her memory broke off.
That was why she could not wait.
“Nothing has been confirmed. That is why I will confirm it.”
The chief administrator slowly bowed his head.
“I will report to the chairman immediately.”
Dam Sohye braced herself against the side of the bed.
Her arm could not hold out for long and trembled. Even so, her head did not lower.
“Yes. Submit it. Immediately.”
The chief administrator bowed again with proper courtesy.
The door closed.
Only the low hum of the terminal remained in the hospital room once more.
For a long while, Dam Sohye did not close her eyes.