Chapter 56

The Commander-in-Chief of the Special Unit.

Her family name was unknown; the only name she used in public was “Seon.”

The reason she allowed just one syllable to be known had to do with her ability.

She could freely bind Oaths—contracts struck with the Outer Gods.

She offered up what she had and, in exchange, received power from the absolute beings above.

Legs that no longer walked on their own, and an eye that would never see light again.¹

Even the name that people once called her by—she had offered it up to fight the demons who descended to this land.

In reverence for that devotion, people called her Self-Made Immortal—“one who became an immortal through self-sacrifice.”

She was one of only seven Transcendent Realm Awakened in Korea—counting the late Ikseon—and the Commander-in-Chief of the Ability Management Bureau’s Special Unit, the unit often called the “First Awakened.”

“You seem to have wandered off post and roamed around on your own. I’ll issue disciplinary action, so please don’t worry.”

“Is that so~ I was surprised. They said you were zero-years experience; patrolling inside Ground Zero alone is dangerous, you know.”

“It wasn’t without authorization. There was a sect reported to be acting suspiciously, so I was investigating—”

“Keep your mouth shut and raise your hands higher. I can see you pretending to rest while you grab your elbow with the other arm, Agent Sae Hayan.”

At Ha Yeri’s ice-cold rebuke, I obediently stretched my arms all the way up.

Seona, sipping the tea she had poured, gave an apologetic smile.

From their conversation, I realized her presence at the Prayer House wasn’t a coincidence.

Of course, there had to be a reason for the commander of Division 1—who hadn’t shown her face even once since I joined—to suddenly appear.

“I thought you’d been at Central Hospital all this time…”

“Well, you see~ lately the Outer Gods kept sending revelations and nagging me. Like, ‘At this rate we’re all dead! Smash the sect in Sector 4!’ You know, like that.”

“You mean the site where the Singularity occurred half a year ago. Since when did they start?”

“Mm, it’s been just about a month now? I had a hell of a time rushing my discharge. Thankfully my body’s a bit better.”

A month—exactly when Mala-nim absorbed the second Star Scar.

After that, I went through the promotion review and received my first paycheck as a Middle Level Awakened.

At the mention of a direct warning from the Outer Gods, Ha Yeri’s expression turned serious.

Ground Zero wasn’t a place where sector-by-sector clearing meant much, and one wrong move could blow the damage out of proportion; from her position, it wasn’t a matter to decide rashly.

“How was it when you saw it yourself?”

“It wasn’t worth the fuss. There were kids there, even—looked fine to me.”

“Hm…”

“So don’t get too tense. You had your reasons for being there before me, right? You know?”

With that, the Commander-in-Chief glanced at me and gave a small wink.

Her consideration washed over me like a tsunami—a heart as broad as the summer sea—and I felt moved.

Unlike Mala-nim, who could do nothing here but tingle one side of my arm near the armpit, she was, at least in this space, a truly divine being.

Within the Special Unit, whose hierarchy placed absolute authority in her hands, she was the one to be served before all others.

“Understood. Then for now, we’ll maintain heightened vigilance and keep watch.”

“May I lower my arms now?”

“This will pass as a warning only this time. I won’t impose separate punishment, but you will submit a written statement, due by tomorrow morning.”

I bolted to her wheelchair the instant permission was given.

Then I showered her with the bribes I had stockpiled for the Review Event, working hard to win her favor.

“Commander-in-Chief, are you hungry? I happen to have freshly baked octopus cheese balls.”

“Oh my~ I was peckish anyway, that sounds wonderful!”

“You can just call me Hayan. And this is a photo card of Mala-nim—someone not quite as lofty as you, Commander—but I’ll give it to you as a special gift.”

“Really? Then I’ll speak comfortably. I don’t know who this is, but they look fascinating!”

“My story isn’t over yet!”

A storm blew through and subsided once.

With me once more holding both hands straight up beside her, Ha Yeri spoke.

“Anyway, I’m glad your health has improved. We can only decide our course if you’re here.”

“You don’t have to follow my opinion unconditionally. It’s fine to consult the other commanders and decide… It’s not the old days; I hate a military vibe.”

“We have no choice. As things stand, the only person in the Special Unit who can face an Archduke alone is you, Commander.”

Maybe it was because she had been able to do nothing when we met Flauros in the Sea of Decay.

For Ha Yeri, it was unusually subdued.

“I’ll convene a full meeting tomorrow morning. Before that, is there anything we should notify each division in advance?”

“Mm, right. There’ll be a lot of unfamiliar faces, and it’s been a while since my discharge…”

Sensing that, Seona spoke up in a bright voice, perhaps wanting to lift the mood of a subordinate she hadn’t seen in a long time.

“To clear the air and refresh the mood, how about we take a look around to see how the Special Unit’s changed—and then throw a snack party?”

She had no idea how far the ripples from that single sentence would spread.

“The Commander-in-Chief is doing an inspection tour! Everyone check your uniforms and make sure you can salute properly!”

“If you don’t keep to the right in the hallways, I’ll break your legs!”

“Oh? Look at the dust in the armory! How many times have I told you to service your gear after fighting monsters!”

“You’ve been cut slack till now and got comfy, huh? Everyone—your seniors’ seniors down to your juniors—assemble! We’ll start the day with some light disciplinary drills.”

News of the Commander-in-Chief’s return shot through the unit in an instant.

And from the very next day, we shifted straight into a semi–war footing.

Division 3 in particular felt exactly like a subordinate unit told to expect a surprise visit from the corps commander.

What I’d heard yesterday as Seona’s “lots of unfamiliar faces” turned into “seems like too many punks in this unit don’t even know how to greet me properly.”

And “it’s been a while since my discharge” twisted, after passing through a few mouths, into “had fun while I was gone, did you?”—practically a murder notice.

Naturally, the Commander-in-Chief didn’t actually visit our division.

The Special Unit’s brass, including the commanders and deputy commanders, spent the entire morning in conference.

But once the seniors caught a wave, their momentum didn’t die down easily—and it kept right on going all day long.

Just when I thought I could finally breathe a little, afternoon brought a fresh nightmare.

The moment Seona stepped out of the conference room and relayed, “There’s too much backlog to hold a snack party, so you kids go enjoy it without me!”—a new hell began.

“Eat. This is bestowed by the Commander-in-Chief herself.”

“Don’t leave a single crumb. If I see even dust on the floor, I’ll make you lick it clean with your tongue.”

“Drinks? The Commander never mentioned drinks. Swallow it down with sheer guts.”

The glorious return of the dreaded forced snack-drills.

The zero-years who had innocently brought their favorite snacks and game consoles to share… The moment they bragged at home that they’d been assigned to Division 3, they finally understood why their ex-Marine fathers had tried so hard to stop them.

Of course, not everyone drowned in this swamp of torment.

As for me—when it came to surviving these kinds of situations, I was already a seasoned veteran.

While the others sweated and beat on straw dummies, I had spent my time figuring out how to slip out of communal suffering altogether.

And now, at last, the fruit of that discipline bore results.

“Senior!”

“What is it, Hayan?”

“I need to run to the restroom. It’s urgent.”

“Go here. Don’t slack off.”

…Didn’t work.

I sagged for a moment, but didn’t give up.

Ninety-Eighth Tentacle, Tentacle of Ink.

It existed for moments like this. As soon as I summoned it under my robe, it spewed black smoke in every direction.

—Psshhhhh!!

“Ugh! What the hell is this!?”

“Don’t tell me you actually shit yourself!?”

Taking advantage of the smoke blotting out vision, I summoned a clone with my tentacle ability—an identical double of myself.

I sat it down, stuffed snacks in its mouth, and made a spectacular backflip escape out of the party hall.

Just in case, I tugged my robe low over my face to keep my identity hidden.

That way, I’d enjoy freedom, the clone would eat the snacks, and the nurses at Central Hospital would get overtime treating stomachaches from the Division’s overeating.

But just as I reached the exit and stretched a hand toward the door—

Someone was there, opening it from the outside.

“Hm? Hayan?”

“Senior Kang Ha-neul?”

The Spear of Thunderclouds, Kang Ha-neul.

Normally, he styled himself as Division 3’s drill sergeant, but today Kang Ha-neul had been tied up in meetings all day, standing in for Yoo Se-byeol, who didn’t have a deputy at her side. Not once had he shown his face.

I’d heard breaks were only fifteen minutes long.

For him to split that tiny window just to come check on rookies suffering in the snack-party hell… He was practically a demon, horns or not.

“Ha-neul, the meeting’s already over?”

“No, I just stepped out for a smoke.”

“What about the Deputy Commander? She’s not coming here, is she?”

“No, she stayed in the conference room.”

One of the seniors, noticing him and then spotting me nearby, tilted his head.

“Wait a second. Aren’t you Hayan?”

“No! I’m a mage from the Firepower Support Unit!”

“What’s your name, then?”

“Uh… Black! Totally Black!”

My excuse was so flimsy it didn’t even make a dent. The senior snorted.

“Yeah, right. Same robe, same voice—don’t kid me.”

If they exposed me here, then it would be obvious: one me sitting inside eating snacks, another me trying to slip out the door.

The truth would be out—that there were two of me in the same space.

Division 3 was full of sharp inspectors; I’d been holding back from using the Tentacle of Transparency for that reason. Was I really about to be unmasked in front of everyone like this…?

“I’m telling you, I’m not!”

“Not what?”

“Strange, wasn’t Hayan sitting right over there?”

“He’s a mage. Hayan, come over here and take off that hood.”

No escape forward, no escape back. Cold sweat slid down my neck under the robe.

Just then, Kang Ha-neul raised the tip of his spear, glanced at my face, and said to the others:

“Not him.”

“What?”

“This guy isn’t in our division.”

“Really?”

“Quit messing around. Like there’s really someone named ‘Totally Black.’”

“I don’t know his name, but Commander Cheon So-baek was looking for someone earlier… Hey, you.”

“Yes?”

“Beat it. Don’t stick your nose in another division’s business.”

Because he stepped aside, I was able to slip out of that party hell in one piece.

But why had he let me go? He’d even lied for me. He had clearly met my eyes.

Lingering by the closed door, I hesitated, then pulled myself together and darted away.

I hid in the library’s “World’s Most Boring Magical Knowledge” corner—the one place Division 3 members would never come—and whispered quietly to Mala-nim.

“Why do you think he let me go?”

“Who knows? Maybe he’s got a personal favor to ask?”

“If that were it, he could’ve just ordered me. Either way, I owe my life to him.”

“So what are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know. For now, I’ll stay away from Division 3 until that madness dies down.”

“Ah-ha~.”

Today, Mala-nim sounded unusually cheerful. Like a playful voice whispering right by my ear, she began offering me options.

“Want to sneak into the conference room? Aren’t you curious what they’re talking about in there?”

“I sat in the control room during the Sea of Decay reclamation. It wasn’t that fun. And with all the commanders gathered, I couldn’t disguise myself anyway. I’ll pass.”

“I see. Then how about this? In Yeri’s guest room, there’s a pillar where she’s been marking her height every single day since you joined. What if you showed that to everyone?”

“Oh, that’s not a bad idea.”

…Wait, what?

Mala-nim usually treated me like a lunatic, never this proactive. Something was off.

I turned my head—and realized I hadn’t been speaking to Mala-nim at all.

“All-day meetings get boring, you know. You’ll play with me, right?”

The Self-Made Immortal.

Seated in her wheelchair, the Commander-in-Chief smiled sweetly at me.