The Returner

Chapter 432: Ah, shucks… This might not work after all? (2)

Chapter 432: Ah, shucks... This might not work after all? (2)

City of Busan, Nampo-dong.

“It’s so peaceful here.” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

The state of emergency had been declared throughout the country and the evacuation order had been issued for the city, so it was only obvious that the streets would be ‘peaceful’, as Yi Ji-Hyuk put it.

“Oh?” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

He then cackled for some reason and strode over to a nearby convenience store, then brazenly picked up an unattended piece of Korean traditional-style pancake.

“Hey, there are plenty of snacks here.” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

“Mister Yi Ji-Hyuk, that’s wrong.” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

“Eii, if I don’t eat them, all these snacks will go ‘bad’, anyway... So, it’s okay, isn’t it?” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

“...Although it’s a problem in the eyes of the law, ethically it might barely qualify as okay.” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

Choi Jeong-Hoon stopped talking there and entered the convenience store himself, then pulled out some cash to stick underneath the plate of the pancakes.

“Keuh, aren’t you a righteous dude?” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

With that, even the legal side of things have been taken care of.

Choi Jeong-Hoon sighed deeply while taking another look at the utterly unperturbed mug of Yi Ji-Hyuk.

‘Well, he’s always been like that, to begin with.’ (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

It wouldn’t be such a bad thing to show just a bit of a concerned face in a situation like this, though.

But then again, if Yi Ji-Hyuk looked nervous for some reason, that might cause Choi Jeong-Hoon’s heart to stop beating altogether from fear. If a guy like that got so nervous that it actually showed on his face, then that would serve as the proof of a looming crisis no one could solve, now wouldn’t it?

It was okay for him to remain that way, but also, maybe it was better for him to display just a bit of tension or something... Honestly speaking, Choi Jeong-Hoon’s mind was a complicated mess right now.

“Aren’t you worried in the slightest?” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

“Nothing will change even if I worry, you know?” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

“...True that.” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

Choi Jeong-Hoon always felt that Yi Ji-Hyuk didn’t seem to fear death itself from the very get-go. Inferring from what he said in the past, though, it made some sense that his fear became completely numbed after experiencing the moments of his physical body dissipating and his consciousness falling into a blank state thousands, no, tens of thousands of times.

‘His new problem is that he feels numb about the deaths of other people, too...’ (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

The reason why Choi Jeong-Hoon or the other people felt so tense right now was not because of the risks to their own lives. If that had been the case, they would’ve remained tucked in nice and easy in the underground bunker of the Blue House. Indeed, there would be no reason for them to show up here in Busan to brave the dangers and stop the ICBM.

No, what they were really afraid of was making a mistake somewhere and watching the deaths of over five million people living in Busan.

Although, one could argue that they had no choice in the matter, and if the worst did happen, they couldn’t really blame it on a mistake, either.

“Can we really stop the rocket?” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

“I told you, it’s fifty-fifty.” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

“Mm, fifty is it...” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

“Besides, there’s no guarantee that it will fall here, right? I mean, it could land in Hiroshima or Osaka.” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

“...I think it’ll be better for Hiroshima to be spared this time.” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

“How come?” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

“No, well...” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

No matter what, wasn’t it a bit too much for a city to get nuked for the second time? Japan might have done many wrong things throughout its history, but even then, such a punishment would be too cruel and uncalled for.

“Well, it’s still better than the nuke landing in Korea, isn’t it?” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

“You know, that’s a really nationalistic sentiment.” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

“That’s how humans operate. We always prioritise our ‘neighbourhood’, then our ‘district’, and then, our ‘country’.” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

“Hang on, your breakdown on the matter sounds suspiciously like the development process of Korea’s democracy.” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

“Still, that doesn’t mean people began believing that we should treat the foreigners the same as the Korean natives, now do they?” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

“Mm...” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

What a vague discussion this was.

“You know, this is the conclusion I came to after observing people for a long time. People love to divide things. A country would be divided into two, then the two sides would become bitter enemies to wage bloody wars. You won’t find a funnier comedy than that anywhere. Nothing has changed other than some arbitrary line drawn on the ground, but after people finish taking sides, you only need a blink of an eye for them to become enemies.” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

“Wait, are you referring to North Korea now?” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

“Eh? I wasn’t talking about them, but hey, it’s a pretty good analogy, ain’t it? Anyways, I wasn’t talking about us, but when you look through the history of mankind, you’ll find plenty of examples.” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

“...Well, that’s true.” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

“I don’t particularly feel anything whenever people talk about letting go of the notion of my neighbourhood or my country or whatever and think about the bigger picture. It’s humans that drew the line in the first place, and now you’re basically telling me to ignore that line again. If that’s the case, you shouldn’t have drawn the line to begin with.” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

“That... sounds complicated.” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

This discussion seemed deep and meaningful, in a way, but it was also quite off-topic as well. Choi Jeong-Hoon knew that now wasn’t the time to discuss things like this.

“So, where is that thing right now?” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

“You mean the nuke? It’s currently passing over the Yellow Sea. It should soon enter the Korean airspace.” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

“Man, this is a bit of a dilemma, isn’t it...?” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

Yi Ji-Hyuk seemed to be pondering something before asking a question.

“It might just pass us by, right?” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

“Yes, that’s possible.” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

“But if we make a move first, I’m pretty sure that thing’s gonna change its target, you know?” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

“...That’s also possible.” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

“But then, we won’t have any answers whatsoever if we leave it alone only for the dang thing to suddenly change its heading right above our heads.” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

With that, Choi Jeong-Hoon was now properly stuck in a pit of confusion.

If they waited, the risk factor would shoot up, but performing a pre-emptive strike first would increase the odds of the nuke falling on the Korean peninsula, instead. This was not a problem he could decide on.

“I-I should report to the higher-ups...” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

“I don’t think reporting to them will be much of a help here? I mean, from what I saw earlier, those folks didn’t seem mentally equipped to handle this at all.” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

“Urgh.” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

Choi Jeong-Hoon spat out a lengthy groan.

“We’ve been fighting tooth and nail against monsters and demon kings until now, but the situation like ours is a new one even for me. An actual demon king invasion would be far nicer for my heart at this stage.” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

“Right. Also, if it’s coming, it should just come quickly or something. It’s a dang problem that it’s flying so slow and wreaking havoc with everyone’s headspace here.” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

“Mm, that’s also true.” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

The old saying went that it was better to get punished before the others. Waiting for their turn like this only made their innards burn away incessantly in anxiety.

“Oh well. Let’s just gently prod it first, see what happens after that. Saying it’s not gonna fall on us and we should wait is kinda problematic as a human being, wouldn’t you say?” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

“Y-yes, indeed.” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

Choi Jeong-Hoon had been thinking that leaving the warhead alone was not a bad idea as long as there were sufficient guarantees of it not landing this side, so his face reddened up immediately and he turned his head away after Yi Ji-Hyuk made that suggestion.

‘I guess I shouldn’t be preaching about this subject, then.’ (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

A person’s true nature would inevitably show up when stuck in a situation like this one. Even though he was busy mouthing something about democracy and stuff, he still couldn’t escape from the ‘limitations’ of a regular person.

“Do we have a way to stop it, anyway?” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

“Mm, well. There are a few ways, but... Would you like to choose which one?” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

When Yi Ji-Hyuk mentioned ‘a few ways’, the NDF agents standing nearby hurriedly rushed in towards the two men.

“The first one is... Mm, well, it’s to eliminate that demon king’s servant stuck on top of the missile, then getting rid of the weapon itself. Its biggest advantage is that we can eliminate the missile for sure using this method, but there’s a slight drawback.” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

“Which is?” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

“While attacking the servant, if our aim is a bit off, then... Bang!” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

It felt like the hearts of the listeners all jumped out of their mouths when Yi Ji-Hyuk went, “Bang!” just then.

“Mm, if we go with that one, we’ll have hold tight until the missile has reached somewhere close by... But if that happens, we should consider the possibility of everyone nearby ending up dead. No, hang on, I shouldn’t put it that way, right? Everyone in Busan will be dead ‘for sure’. Ehehe.” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

“Okay, so we’ll not go with that, then.” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

“But, it’s the most logical way...” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

“No is a no!” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

Yi Ji-Hyuk could only smack his lips at Choi Jeong-Hoon’s resolute declaration.

“As for the next method, this one is a bit less certain...” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

“What do you mean?” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

“Can you find me a fighter plane and a pilot to go along? I’ll ride in the back and do something about the nuke.” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

“Rejected.” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

“But why? Isn’t it a pretty good idea?” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

Choi Jeong-Hoon stared at Yi Ji-Hyuk with a less-than-impressed expression.

“It’s not like this is my first rodeo riding along with you, so I can already tell what you’re thinking of in just one glance. Mister Yi Ji-Hyuk, let’s be honest here, you might be pretty adept at wrecking everything over a wide area, but when it comes to precisely aiming at something, you just don’t have any talents whatsoever.” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

“...Are you a shaman or something?” (Yi Ji-Hyuk) [1]

“That’s an insult these days. In any case, I won’t let you do it.” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

“It’s going to blow up anyway, so I’ll just blow it up far away from us. That’ll be for the best for everyone, right?” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

“And are you confident of coming back in one piece?” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

“Mm...” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

Yi Ji-Hyuk began deliberating seriously.

“If I can activate teleportation at the right time, yeah, I think so...” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

“But Mister Yi Ji-Hyuk, you’re no longer the past you. Am I wrong?” (Choi Jeong-Hoon

Yi Ji-Hyuk nodded slowly.

If this was the past version of Yi Ji-Hyuk, he’d not really care whether his opponent was a nuke or not and simply blow it up over the skies of the Yellow Sea.

“We simply can’t go with a plan that might result in your death, Mister Yi Ji-Hyuk. Saying these things might make me a failure of a human being, but truth be told, you’re far more important than the lives of five million people. I’ll be upfront about this right now. If you think it’s not going to work out, you must just teleport out of here to Seoul. I’m being serious.” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

“...Please stop. I don’t want to be on the receiving end of a fellow man’s ardent gaze. I’m not immunised for it, you know.” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

Choi Jeong-Hoon spat out another lengthy groan.

Yi Ji-Hyuk not losing his relaxed demeanour even in a situation like this could be seen as his biggest plus point, but even then, how should one go about framing this...

When Choi Jeong-Hoon couldn’t bring himself to continue on, Yi Ji-Hyuk simply shrugged his shoulders.

“Okay, so. Here’s the last method...” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

He scratched his cheek and finished what he wanted to say.

“Honestly, I didn’t want to go with it, but I guess we don’t have a choice now. Since that’s the case, we might as well utilise every agent present to their fullest potential. Maybe it’ll end up as an example to follow for other countries, too.” (Yi Ji-Hyuk)

Choi Jeong-Hoon tilted his head at what Yi Ji-Hyuk said.

“As an example?” (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

*

“What’s the current situation?” (Yun Yeong-Min)

“Mister President. The ICBM is passing through the Yellow Sea. It will soon fly over the southwest of the country.”

“Mmm...” (Yun Yeong-Min)

Yun Yeong-Min stared worriedly at the map. If the ICBM remained in the current flight path, the rocket should barely skirt past the Korean peninsula’s southern coastline.

A contingent of personnel had been deployed to Busan, but if that rocket suddenly altered its course and descended right there and then, an outcome no one can prevent would occur.

“We’re only humans, Mister President. We can’t stop everything.” (Song Jeong-Su)

“But...” (Yun Yeong-Min)

Song Jeong-Su’s tone of voice remained resolute.

“We certainly can’t say that one thousand lives are worth more than one specific life. However, do not forget that we didn’t send our agents to Busan simply to save a few handful of people. No, it’s because there’s an uncomfortably high chance of the warhead falling on Busan. This is a wartime situation, Mister President. An emergency situation. You must not falter now.” (Song Jeong-Su)

Yun Yeong-Min could only nod his head at Song Jeong-Su’s firm, sharp words.

‘It’s a good thing that this man is with us.’ (Yun Yeong-Min)

If Yun Yeong-Min was alone, he’d be utterly lost and confused by now, unable to do anything meaningful. He only got to learn recently that he was cursed with a lack of mental fortitude.

He might have surrounded himself with a hardened outer shell to protect himself but his decisiveness still remained his weakest point.

“Can it be stopped?” (Yun Yeong-Min)

“We don’t know, Mister President.” (Song Jeong-Su)

Song Jeong-Su replied with a stiff expression.

“Things have already gone way past the realm of ‘if it’s possible or not’. We’re now standing on the realm of blind faith.” (Song Jeong-Su)

“Faith, is it...” (Yun Yeong-Min)

Song Jeong-Su quietly chewed on his lip.

‘They need to stop that missile.’ (Song Jeong-Su)

Humanity’s situation was deteriorating with every passing second.

Beijing’s destruction would bring about a powerful, hard-to-describe shock to not just East Asia, but to the international community at large. Never mind the economic turmoil all over the world, Beijing’s absence would surely cause a great chaos within China itself, and what’s even more horrifying was the fact that it became next to impossible to respond against the demon king army located in Sichuan.

With China becoming practically powerless, the two ‘spots’ existing in Asia now needed to be dealt with by Korea, Japan and Russia.

But both Tokyo and Seoul were already half-destroyed, weren’t they?

‘We haven’t even damaged them properly, but our combat potential keeps getting shaved away.’ (Song Jeong-Su)

Not even Song Jeong-Su could have predicted that the advent of demon kings would play out in this manner. He thought that the moment the Gates to the demon world fully opened up, humanity would be locked in an all-out war against the invading demon kings, but the reality turned out to be even more cruel than that.

‘They’ll wring us dry to death if this keeps up.’ (Song Jeong-Su)

If the outcome had been decided early on, then he might have given up easily. But because the demon kings advanced rather slowly, he just couldn’t discard that slim ray of hope even now.

“Sirs, the ICBM has now entered the peninsula’s airspace.”

Song Jeong-Su gripped his hands tightly and squeezed his eyes shut.

‘Please, you need to pull through.’ (Song Jeong-Su)

The NDF was the only thing they could believe in now.

< 432. Ah, shucks... This might not work after all? -2 > Fin.

(TL: I wasn’t sure how to translate the ‘shaman’ bit at the [1], but ultimately decided to go with that. The OG term used there was ‘Mudang’, a Korean ‘sorcerer/exorcist/shaman/psychic’. Yes, a ‘mudang’ does all that. The closest equivalent would be Japan’s ‘onmyoji’ but with a bit more colourful clothing and ceremonies.)