Chapter 30

“Sea of Decay, huh?”

On the way to the research lab, we stopped by a big supermarket. Alexei casually spoke while picking out snacks for the party.

“Yesterday morning, the Spear of Thunderclouds lectured the Division 3 members. He said if the flood begins, the entire Special Unit will have to mobilize, so don’t let your guard down.”

“Then why didn’t I hear about this?”

“Because you fell asleep during the briefing, Hayan.”

“Asleep? I was in deep contemplation.”

I stood at the sample corner, watching the patties grilling, while listening to Alexei. Come to think of it, maybe I had heard something similar while “contemplating.”

Something about the dead surging onto the shore during the “Fourth Night” and taking root.

The phrase “night has come” was only ever used when an Archduke’s true body manifested somewhere in the world.

The Sea of Decay had formed when a high-grade Gate collapsed along Korea’s western coast.
Now it was a “spot” where the dead rose endlessly, washing onto shore.

At first, some people even welcomed it. Waves carried relics and mana stones ashore, making it feel like Korea finally had a natural resource more valuable than oil.

It was a romantic age. Rumors even spread that everything in the world could be found at the center of the Sea of Decay. Ordinary people, the military, and guilds greedy for an Archduke’s power all turned their eyes toward the West Sea.

But those chasing the dream of becoming pirate kings—men, women, young, old—ended up drowning together and joining the ranks of the dead.

The reason was the Sea of Decay’s “horrific trait,” something no one understood at first.

When international guilds finally recognized the danger, they tried to raid it together. None ever returned from the center.

China, hit the hardest, eventually pulled out. Since then, attempts at conquest had been abandoned.

Now the Bureau simply dispatched units periodically to cull the dead, preventing further spread. At best, it was containment.

Sometimes, among the dead who appeared along the Han River to beg tourists for Choco Pies, you could spot former Awakened who’d once been famous.

“They’re enforcing more countermeasures this year to stop the flood. I heard they’re even expanding the floodgates on the western coast.”

“Countermeasures, huh… I doubt that alone will solve it.”

I recalled the classified mission plan Ha Yeri had handed me. It had to be part of these counter-flood measures.

But in the end, they were only temporary fixes.
Unless the root cause was destroyed, the corpse-filled sea would never return to normal.

Seeds of Calamity.

Born from the backlash of an Archduke’s manifestation, these were colossal whirlpools of magic. Once torn open, dimensional holes could never be sealed again. They warped laws and twisted common sense around them.

Not every Archduke carried a Star Scar. Likewise, not every Seed of Calamity contained one.

But for a calamity on the level of the Sea of Decay… The odds were high that, like Ground Zero, it contained a fragment of Mala-nim’s Star Scar.

Of course, charging straight into the middle of the sea would be suicidal.

“For now, nothing’s happening. Let’s savor the situation and think carefully. A better plan might come to us mid-mission.”

“Are you buying those patties?”

“This is a decision that requires time. I must be careful.”

“You mean… deciding whether to buy patties?”

Ignoring the sample clerk’s stiffening expression, I lingered at the stall for quite a while. Yes. This was a very serious decision.

After shopping, we crossed north of the Han River. The Red Tower loomed ahead, welcoming us with its bright lights even late at night.

The subway disgorged crowds of mages at Red Tower Station, an unusual sight in itself.

I pulled my hood down deep as I exited with them. Alexei gave me a curious look.

“Brother, why are you hiding your identity?”

“I’m only borrowing the lab. I’m not a Red Tower member. It’s not illegal, but there’s no benefit to being recognized.”

Cheon So-baek had given me the title of “Honorary Professor” so I could access her lab.
Of course, I’d never stepped foot in a middle school, let alone a university. It was just a convenient loophole.

Normally, taking a secondary position required reporting to and receiving approval from one’s superior.

But I had no intention of telling Yoo Se-byeol.

Let’s just say it was the strong intuition of a tentacle-user.

If this reached her ears, I had a bad feeling my life would face a catastrophe worse than the Sea of Decay flooding.

Besides, like I told No Yeon-hwa, if word got out that I—an outsider—was entering the Deputy Tower Master’s private lab, things would get annoying in a lot of ways. So I decided to hide my identity.

Thankfully, with so many mages going in and out, nothing had gone wrong yet.

“Here we are. What do you think?”

“Bigger than I expected.”

“There’s a workshop deeper in. Leave your clothes there and follow me—ah, right, you don’t have clothes.”

We stepped into the lab and I hung my robe on a wall hook.

Nothing else hung there, but a faint trace of perfume lingered—proof Cheon So-baek hadn’t been by in a while.

Mala-nim slipped off my hand and manifested an Incarnation, appearing from the back of the lab as if she had been there all along.

Spotless from head to toe, looking beautiful in a way no dust could cling to—and apparently curious about the patties we bought—because they were slowly gnawing one raw.

“Has your younger sister been staying here too?”

“Yes. She’s getting treatment as well.”

As pure and spotless as my name, I spoke only the truth.

It was wonderful that Mala-nim descended in an Incarnation—but it hurt my believer’s heart that she still couldn’t speak.

All she could do was purse her lips or clack her teeth to express herself. How tragic was that?

So whenever I found time between experiments, I taught Mala-nim how to use her vocal cords.

“Over here. I want to show Alexei the prototype of the Magical Siege Turret I modified!”

“Oh? Can we test it?”

“Of course. Functionally identical. Look—I streamlined the chassis and swapped those clunky wheels for dozens of legs.”

“Hayan’s sense of aesthetics surpassed human understanding by a wide margin. Anyway, my blood is boiling.”

While Alexei grabbed his axe and charged the turret, I opened the snack bags.

A bare-chested giant brawling with a colossal tentacle-turret made for great entertainment.

I wished Mala-nim would enjoy it too, but she seemed uninterested. She slipped my smartwatch off my wrist and started playing with it.

Tap, tap.

She was clumsy even with a touchscreen right now, but it was still a proper Incarnation.

The more Star Scars she absorbed, the greater the authority she would wield.

To ease her boredom, I pulled out the mission plan Ha Yeri had given me and held it up for us to read together—doubling as speech practice.

“Mala-nim, this reads ‘Sea of Decay.’ Can you try it? ‘Sea of Decay.’”

“Se—”

“That’s it! Exactly.”

It was only the sound of air slipping past her cheeks—but still, real progress.

Maybe today would be the day her voice broke through?

If I had one small wish as a believer who had served Mala-nim for fifteen years, it was to hear her say my name before anything else.

“Let’s see… the classified mission involving Division 2 personnel is actually a crackdown on criminal syndicates. One of the triggers for the Sea of Decay to flood is a large quantity of corpses being dumped into the sea.”

“Co—”

“Corpses. Corpses.”

Why would crushing crime tie directly to stopping the flood?

The answer sat right in the preface of the next page.

The sea eats corpses and vomits treasure.

When someone died and was thrown into the sea, a corresponding reward was granted.

No need to risk your life raiding high-grade Gates—just send bodies downriver.

A far more profitable business than drug trafficking or human smuggling.

Especially when the western floodgates opened and the Han River fell within the indirect domain; no need to haul the dead all the way out west.

As you could guess, the Sea of Decay had become a lucrative funding source for criminal syndicates.

In the old days, even guilds secretly used it. With that, law and the economy crumbled overnight.

But the Special Unit didn’t break their backs to stop sea-dumping just to cut off the syndicates’ cash.

The dead return to land to reclaim the legacy that was stolen from them in life.

“When enough corpses pile up, the flood begins.”

Even if the dead were just ordinary people, their sheer numbers were a problem. But the real nightmare was when an Awakened returned.

That was the hidden nature of the Sea of Decay—and the reason so many guilds had failed.

“It’s like one of those dreaded group projects—one person dumps, another has to clean. If I ever lecture here as an honorary professor, this will definitely be on the syllabus.”

The only fortunate difference was that unlike a real group project, here you could just cut the weak link’s throat.

The document Ha Yeri gave me listed names of syndicates currently or formerly active around the capital, along with coordinates to their hideouts.

The Black Serpents’ Shedded. The Black Crescent, thought to be remnants of the Black Tower.

Names that brought back memories.

“Let’s read together. ‘A mysterious cult serving a foreign god that’s been expanding in Ground Zero…’ Hm, skip that.”

I read aloud the list of syndicates scheduled to vanish from the world today, like a bedtime story.

But my focus wasn’t on their crimes or scale. It was on helping Mala-nim practice pronouncing my name.

“I’ll read it first; you repeat the last word. ‘Evil’s Offertory Box.’”

“Offertory—”

“Good! Next one… ‘Servants of the Embodied One.’”

“Servants—”

“Perfect! You’re doing great!”

One more syllable. Just one step closer, and Mala-nim might call my name.

But no matter how many pages I flipped, I couldn’t find a word containing “-yan.”

While I wrestled with that, Alexei was on the other side of the lab, smashing apart most of the turret’s legs.

He leapt high, roaring: “Behold the strike of Alexei Mikhail Gorgochov, the Butcher of Bishkek!”

“Alexei Mikhail Gorgochov.”

“No, not that!!”

For the first time, Mala-nim spoke clearly—and the name she chose was Alexei’s.

Like the wrecked turret, I collapsed to the floor, scattering the papers into the air.

All my effort, gone in an instant.

“Brother, how was it? My axe splitting steel?”

“I get it, I understand…”

“Brother?”

With a heavy heart, I picked myself up and spoke.

“It means eradicating a few crime syndicates isn’t enough. To be worthy of being called by name, I must become someone greater.”

Mala-nim was telling me.

She wanted the Star Scar buried deep in that ocean.

She wanted the Sea of Decay fully reclaimed.

To wipe out the flood that even the Special Unit dared not touch.

“Very well.”

If that was what my god desired, then that was the only path for me.

I pulled my robe over my shoulders, swept the scattered papers into my tentacles, and knelt before Mala-nim.

“Tonight, the sea will no longer churn with corpses, but with golden waves carrying the moonlight. I will dedicate that shining sight to you, Mala-nim.”

In her Incarnation, I couldn’t hear the words “Fear not” echo in my mind.

But like a knight awaiting his send-off, I knelt with my head bowed, waiting for her reply.

“Hayan’s little sis, is he really about to throw another fit and do something insane?”

That was Alexei, returning with his axe slung over his shoulder.

And after a long silence…

“Yes.”

Mala-nim’s single word.

Whether it was for me or for Alexei, I couldn’t tell.