Chapter 182: Kergel (9)

The phrase “calm before the storm” suddenly springs to mind.

A saying so overused it’s faded into a dead metaphor.

Yet, on the flip side, the words of the ancients—”The sages’ wisdom holds true”—still stand firm, their power undiminished.

“It’s unusually quiet tonight.”

Lee Taebaek murmured while gazing up at the night sky over the City.

“Yeah, it is~.”

The sound of hair brushing against weeds rustled softly. Jasbi nodded beside him, lying on the grass.

The City was a gray urban sprawl, after all. Lush greenery was a rarity. The spot where they lay was a precious patch of green, like a glimpse of blue sky.

The City’s iconic landmark: Lake.

In other words, a lake.

“A night like this is rare.”

Jasbi propped herself up on her elbows. She brushed the grass from the back of her head and looked around.

Neon signs in every color imaginable, along with the glaring lights symbolizing the megacorps, scattered across the lake’s surface. The water shimmered brilliantly with ripples, but there were few people around. Just the occasional couple walking a dog or out for a jog.

“Did some kind of national alert go out while I was streaming?”

“As if.”

Lee Taebaek replied without taking his eyes off the night sky.

“If that happened, even you, glued to your broadcast, would’ve noticed. Nothing like that.”

“…Then why’s it so quiet?”

Jasbi shot back with pursed lips.

Swoosh.

Lee Taebaek twisted his body while still lying down, propping his head on a bent elbow. He eyed Jasbi with a lopsided glance.

“People sense it subconsciously. War’s about to break out.”

Jasbi swallowed dryly.

War. The word fit perfectly. The clash between Kergel Magic Tower and the Resistance would claim countless lives. One of them would likely be erased for good—and the odds heavily favored it being the Resistance.

Jasbi was terrified. She’d run endless simulations, nearly infinite scenarios. Deductions and eliminations repeated as often as the stars overhead. Yesterday, she’d overloaded and gotten a nosebleed.

Yet she still couldn’t predict a Resistance victory.

This path led to defeat. Total annihilation. And at the forefront of the sacrifices stood Lee Taebaek, needless to say. The Heavenly Demon had singled him out personally—not the Resistance, but him.

‘How can he be so calm?’

Does he have some ace up his sleeve now? How else could he stargaze so leisurely? Jasbi was confused.

But asking outright felt risky. What if it triggered some hidden anxiety in her Creator? So she pivoted to a topic far removed from the current crisis.

“…Like birds fleeing before an earthquake? But people aren’t birds…”

Jasbi muttered awkwardly for that reason.

“I’m not calling people birdbrains.”

“Hmm. The Creator I know seems like he’d have some chosen-people complex. You’re so exceptional, after all.”

“……”

Thud!

A couple getting frisky in the tree branches suddenly scattered in a flurry. Jasbi rolled across the grass, yelling, a fist-sized lump rising on her forehead.

“You always resort to violence.”

“Doesn’t the Creator think he’s overusing the stick?!”

“Nope.”

“……”

…Psychopath for real.

“Whew.”

“An AI sighing.”

“Yeap, yeap. The ugliness of human nature just draws it out~.”

Thud!

A moment later.

“…Sorry.”

“Some people just need a good smack.”

“You just said AI.”

Jasbi grumbled, but Lee Taebaek ignored her. He sat cross-legged. Grass tickled his briefly exposed ankle.

“I’ve never once looked down on people.”

“Really? Why’s that?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“No, but come on. You know you’re overpowered. You could sell your looks alone and never starve, yet you’ve got the skills and the popularity too. Someone like that could easily look down on average folks.”

“Does being OP give me reason to look down on others?”

It was a belief he’d carried since his past life. Objectively, Lee Taebaek was competent. Amid the mass exodus from his black company, Laykuns had made it to release thanks entirely to him.

Of course, Team Leader Seo had been a capable manager, but the hands-on work had all been his.

His mantra in game development: “Never underestimate the players.”

“People misunderstand. They think one genius feeds the masses.”

“Isn’t that kinda true?”

Jasbi blinked and tilted her head.

“Sure, it’s not wrong. But you need reverse thinking too. Take a once-in-a-generation genius. They need recognition and support to spread their wings.”

“Isn’t that thanks to the existing infrastructure?”

Lee Taebaek furrowed his brow slightly. She knew one side but not the other, like a typical dry AI. With a deep sigh, he elaborated for the emotionally stunted Jasbi.

“And ordinary people built that infrastructure.”

“Ah.”

A soulless response.

Well, she is an AI.

“…You just thought ‘AI disdain,’ didn’t you?”

“Whoa, ghost?”

“Hey—!”

Anyway.

“Not ‘anyway’!”

“Let’s talk.”

“…Sigh. Fine.”

Having smoothly de-escalated, Lee Taebaek turned his gaze to the lake.

“Ordinary people built that dense forest of skyscrapers—and work inside them. Same for me and the Resistance.”

Lee Taebaek turned his head. Jasbi sat there hugging her knees, pouting.

“Without the Resistance—that mob of ‘ordinary’ people you look down on—I’d be a charred mess on the electric chair.”

“Then the ones who put the Creator on that chair were ordinary people too.”

“Exactly.”

Jasbi’s expression soured suddenly.

“I don’t get it. Geniuses’ fates dictated by the masses? Geniuses should rule, normals obey—that’s natural order.”

“Could be convenient. But stripping away free will? That’s not human—that’s vat-grown. Why do you think I pulled that ass show lately?”

“…To stop those inhumane experiments.”

Jasbi buried her lips in her knees.

Her pout still stuck out sideways.

“And.”

Lee Taebaek lay back on the grass again.

“That’s why we can’t beat the Tower that way. Jasbi, the Tower’s the perfect example of that hierarchy you described.”

Kergel Magic Tower ran on a one-woman show by Tower Master Heavenly Demon. The Right and Left Luminaries were mere attendants, replaceable at any time.

The mages executed orders without personal agency. They might as well be vat-grown humans who hadn’t been born in one.

“That’s why we’ll win.”

What grudge the Heavenly Demon held—caprice, or revenge for the prior Illusion Master Left Luminary incident timed now—who knew.

Didn’t matter.

Ideologically, confrontation was inevitable. She had to fall. An evil that demanded denial.

‘Lake City.’

Dystopias lacked ideological conflict—that was the problem.

Uniform thoughts and cookie-cutter humans stifled progress. They destroyed.

And signs of downfall infested the City now. Vat-grown humans proliferated; corruption in politics and business had gone too far.

If Kergel Magic Tower seized total control on top of that, the City’s fate was sealed.

‘The Creator.’

Listening, Jasbi realized.

‘Wants a society that respects diversity.’

She got it intellectually, but emotionally? No.

“Hard for you, right? Can’t empathize.”

“Honestly… yeah.”

Lee Taebaek chuckled softly. He raised his hand. Shadow fell over her; Jasbi squeezed her eyes shut, forehead already throbbing.

Thump.

The impact shifted from forehead to crown.

Eh? Doesn’t hurt?

‘Warm?’

Jasbi fluttered her lashes open. She looked up slightly. Lee Taebaek’s hand rested on her crown.

“That’s ‘difference.'”

“Ah……”

“A melting pot where different people live together. That’s my ideal City—and why I’m fighting the Tower.”

“…You could die for that.”

“If I feared death, I wouldn’t have started this.”

Lee Taebaek lifted his palm. The warmth faded. Jasbi felt a pang of regret.

“Lots of people would grieve if the Creator died.”

Lee Taebaek had stirred up plenty in the City. Founding the Hundred-Fold Sect. Uniting the Resistance. Even unifying the Beggar Clan and Lilith Order. The lower districts were practically his domain.

So if he died, the groups orbiting him would splinter. Unprecedented in Lake City for people to unite around ideals over profit. Without the center, they’d revert to the City’s dog-eat-dog ways.

“You’ve been treating me like a corpse since earlier.”

Lee Taebaek stood, bracing on the grass. Jasbi craned her neck to look up. Moonlight traced his silhouette.

“You know I don’t start wars I can’t win.”

Lee Taebaek suddenly strode forward, turning his back to Jasbi, heading toward the lake step by step.

Ahead loomed a bizarrely shaped skyscraper. Kergel Magic Tower’s headquarters.

Lee Taebaek faced it across the lake.

For a brief moment. Then he squatted at the water’s edge and dipped one hand in.

Crackle-crackle-

The lake froze from his hand outward. The chill permeated the surface and depths entirely.

Lee Taebaek twisted his arm to withdraw his hand. He rapped the ice with his fist. Solid. Perfectly frozen.

Confirming, he stood again. He turned to Jasbi—or rather, the row of roadside trees behind her.

“Let’s go.”

He called out to the shadows they cast.

Shh-shh.

Figures began emerging from the shadows. Their outfits varied wildly. Some in the Resistance’s signature white robes. Others in filthy rags. Still more with wing suits equipped.