After the fall of the Soviet Union, Siberia became a land overrun with monsters.

Surrounded by a massive mana barrier, it was a place that ordinary people could not even approach.

The dwarves who survived the gulags called it the Land of Sorrow.

Across the continent, Americans who had triumphed in the Cold War called it Stalin’s Hubris.

In Moscow and Europe, they preferred the name the Great Mistake.

They were all literary and moralistic names.

Names that could be coined only by those who did not have to suffer from the monsters, who could simply watch the fires burn from beyond the barrier.

The Manchurians despised these names.

For them, Siberia and its monsters were not just names—they were a harsh reality right in front of them.

 

"...Though the reason remains unclear, the part of the mana barrier surrounding Siberia that is exceptionally thin happens to be right where it borders Manchuria."

Commonly known as the Manchurian Rift.

"Thanks to that, for the Manchurians, Siberia is… synonymous with hell. A hell that vomits out demons who destroy homes and claim lives."

Having explained this far, Tian Lin glanced at Yeomyeong.

Seated in the military transport truck, Yeomyeong listened attentively to his words, seemingly without complaint.

A typical recruit would be feeling nauseous from the awful ride quality of a military truck.

But Yeomyeong looked as calm as if he were sitting in a regular chair.

"I’m starting to wonder if I’m rambling on about nothing. This must be a boring story for a young guy like you."

As Tian Lin said this, Yeomyeong shook his head.

"Not at all. I’ve been listening, absorbed, without noticing the time."

"Heh, for a rookie, you’re quite the flatterer."

As Tian Lin laughed, the military truck jolted up and down, as if it had run over a rock on the Manchurian plains.

For Yeomyeong and Tian Lin, it was just a minor discomfort, but for Kim Man-su, sprawled out next to them, it was like the hammer of hell.

As soon as the jostling subsided, Kim Man-su began dry heaving. Fortunately, he had already vomited once earlier, so nothing came out.

"Ah, Deputy Commander, why did you even come along if you suffer from motion sickness?"

"Hrgh, it’s natural for an instructor to accompany a rookie…"

"Then why didn’t you just take some motion sickness pills and sleep? You’re making it harder for those who have to watch you."

"If I f-fall asleep, who’s going to watch the rook—hurgh!"

Yeah, sure. So this rookie really must be that important.

Leaving Kim Man-su to stick his head out of the truck window, Tian Lin took another look at Yeomyeong with newfound appreciation.

He had a well-toned body, a poised posture, and a sharp aura.

If he were to exaggerate, he’d say the rookie looked like a well-honed sword.

If he didn’t know better, he might mistake him for a superhuman, which helped him understand why the Deputy Commander was so invested.

"Hey, rookie, aren’t you nervous at all?"

"…Should I be nervous?"

"Well, most people would be. But I guess you’re not like most."

Tian Lin took out a cigarette, something he had taken up after realizing he’d never become superhuman, a habit born of frustration.

"Are you an aspiring superhuman by any chance?"

Yeomyeong didn’t answer, offering a vague smile instead. Tian Lin interpreted that smile in his own way.

‘So he probably failed to get into the academy, just like I did.’

He felt like he had accidentally opened an old wound. Scratching the back of his head in embarrassment, he changed the subject.

"Do you know what this mission entails?"

"…I was told it’s a support mission for the North Manchuria expedition."

Ah, so he remembered the mission name. Tian Lin nodded as he took a deep drag on his cigarette.

"You don’t know the specifics, do you?"

"…No, I only know that North Manchuria is right in front of the rift."

"Guess I wasted time chatting and didn’t get to the important parts."

Hoo, the smoke from Tian Lin’s mouth was swept away by the cold wind.

"As you said, North Manchuria is right at the forefront of the rift. It’s essentially the front line."

"…."

"The problem is that there are so many monsters there that they’ve created their own ecosystem. If they’re not culled regularly, they’ll multiply and migrate southward."

And when they migrated south, they inevitably attacked civilian areas. Monsters always preyed on the weak.

"So the expedition team went to clear out the monsters."

Tian Lin nodded in confirmation.

"Don’t worry too much. It’s just another routine event. We throw some bullets and bombs at them, and that’s the end of it."

"Is there anything we should be wary of?"

"Occasionally, there are monsters that don’t fit the usual categories, but the superhumans stationed in North Manchuria will take care of those. If things get really bad…"

Tian Lin trailed off, looking over at Kim Man-su, who was still out of sorts.

"…Stick close to the Deputy Commander. At least then you won’t die."

Though his inability to handle motion sickness was pitiful, he was still the Deputy Commander of the mercenary corps. His skill was trustworthy.

Yeomyeong looked between Kim Man-su and Tian Lin, then forced a smile.

"I’ll keep that in mind."

 

In the narrow alleyways of the mercenary zone in the Manchurian Base,

"Miss, did you have to shoot my calf?"

The man with the distinctive M-shaped bald spot, Wallard, asked as he rubbed his leg. Though he appeared fine outwardly, his bone still ached.

"Would you rather I shot your chest?"

The response came from empty air beside him.

"It’s not that I’m complaining, but surely there was a better way… or so I thought."

"If I hadn’t shot you, you’d be a hundred percent dead. I could’ve just slipped away with my cloak, but you can’t, can you?"

Though she sounded confident, Wallard’s expression remained troubled. He frowned, his sharp nose twitching.

"Why didn’t you just put a bullet in the back of his head and be done with it?"

"Oh, so I should’ve killed him?"

"Isn’t that cheaper than giving away such a precious relic?"

A laugh came from beyond the invisible cloak.

"Wallard, that kind of thinking is why Mother hasn’t promoted you."

"…."

"Even if I’d shot him in the back of the head, what if he didn’t die?"

Wallard turned his gaze toward the voice in the empty air.

"Miss, no matter how superhuman, if a .44-caliber magic round hits the head, it’s fatal."

"Ha, there are more superhumans than you’d think who survive gunshots. Want me to list them?"

"Yes, well, there are some who do. But he wasn’t one of them. In Incheon, he was only on par with Mortimer."

"On par? Don’t be absurd. Mortimer is still in the hospital. Do you know how much it cost to reattach his arm?"

As her snarky words hit home, Wallard recalled the scene from Incheon.

Yeomyeong, slicing through Mortimer’s chest and severing his arm with a single strike.

"…Which is why he should’ve been killed back there."

"Ugh, you’re so long-winded."

"Anyone else in the organization would say the same if they were in my place…"

Before Wallard could finish his complaint, a revolver appeared, hovering in midair.

"Hey, Wallard."

She spun the revolver theatrically, the muzzle bobbing in front of Wallard’s face.

"You can’t kill him. Absolutely can’t."

"…."

"Shoot him in the back of the head, snipe him from a distance—it doesn’t matter. It won’t work. You still don’t get it?"

It was only then that Wallard understood the true meaning of her words. His eyes widened in shock.

"Don’t tell me… you used foresight?"

"Yup."

"Why on earth would you use foresight in a place like this?"

"My ability, my choice."

Wallard had no response. He furrowed his brows and sighed.

"…Fine, so what did you see?"

"Your neck breaking, and me running away with one arm."

"…."

"No matter how or where I shot him in the back of the head, the outcome was the same. I just wasted mana."

Grumbling, the woman inside the invisible cloak spun her revolver once more. It was a trick straight out of a western movie.

"Hm, I might be able to take another look at him… Should I try foresight on that guy again?"

The moment she joked about it, Wallard frantically waved his hands in protest.

"Miss, please! If the boss finds out, I’m dead!"

"Mother doesn’t even know I’m here, so how would she know I used foresight? Just keep your mouth shut."

In Wallard’s experience, there was no stopping the stubborn Miss once she’d made up her mind. In times like this, all he could do was wait for the outcome.

But for some reason… no vision came.

The playful voice was gone, and the revolver, which had been spinning in the air, hovered silently.

Was foresight being blocked?

After waiting about ten minutes, Wallard cautiously reached for the spot where the cloak should have been. His fingers were just about to touch the soft fabric when—

"Eek!" A short scream escaped from the invisible cloak.

"Miss?! What’s going on?"

"Ah… we’re screwed."

"Sc-screwed?"

Her use of such crude language stunned Wallard into silence, but she continued as if it didn’t matter.

"North Manchuria has fallen."

Fallen? Realizing the implication, Wallard’s face hardened.

"…That can’t be. You were just using foresight on that guy."

"He’s headed to North Manchuria. Turns out he’s a mercenary. Why didn’t I realize it sooner?"

"Miss, could it be possible that foresight was mistaken…?"

Clinging to denial, Wallard asked, but the woman in the cloak cut him off.

"No. North Manchuria is either falling or has already fallen. Run to the command center and report it immediately."

"…Understood. But before that, you need to evacuate first."

"I can’t."

"You can’t?"

"I… ha, forget it. I’m going to North Manchuria."

"What are you saying… Wait, Miss!"

Before he could finish his question, he heard the sound of footsteps. Wallard reached out in a panic, but all he caught was the echo of her retreating steps.