Chapter 24: I'm Not a Psychopath (1)

Magic is the mechanics of mystery and abstraction.

What does that mean? Even Kang Hyeonseong didn’t know exactly.

He did know that magic had its roots in martial arts. But in the end, magic and martial arts had diverged completely in their essence.

They shared a common origin, but had no other points of overlap. From the start, it was the Heavenly Demon Cult that had particularly branched off from the orthodox and demonic paths.

Yet after settling in Lake City, the Magic Tower had forged an even more independent path.

Exactly as the words implied.

They had overhauled everything. Not an exaggeration—they had even changed their name from the Heavenly Demon Cult to the “Kergel Magic Tower.”

Just like that.

From their origins and actions to their ideology,

everything about them was extraordinary.

The mages belonging to the Magic Tower were no exceptions.

Mages shared three main characteristics.

First, magic reflected the caster’s disposition.

What was the point of explaining it in laborious detail? The perfect example was lying right in front of him…

Kang Hyeonseong stared at the hospital bed.

Goeun touched her opposite shoulder with her casted arm and rotated it in circles. Her ten fingers poked out from the cast, swollen and sausage-like.

That was the extent of her visible external injuries, but her internal ones had nearly turned fatal.

For a mage, a destroyed dantian was tantamount to a death sentence.

In short, Goeun had literally died and come back to life. It should have been that way.

Yet there she was.

“Is it because it’s been so long since I got hit? Why does it feel this refreshing?”

She brimmed with energy and cheer, as if it had happened to someone else.

“Lee Taebaek, that was awesome! I love it!”

She was fiery as ever. Just like her magic, Samadhi True Fire.

“Put a lid on that smile. You’re making my head spin. Good thing that kid called the ambulance. It almost turned into the worst-case scenario with your dantian ruined.”

“If it had come to that, what could I do?”

Goeun acted like it was no big deal.

“The moment I used something like an assassin’s technique, it was basically a life-and-death duel anyway. It ended with my dantian just almost shattering? It didn’t actually shatter. That’s fine. Dwelling on finished business feels too petty for me. It’s not my style.”

Kang Hyeonseong was dumbfounded by her spotless, sunny expression. Her reaction made a fool of the friend who had worried about her. He snapped irritably.

“Yu Dahui said it: ‘Goeun, you’re handing your squad to that sadist?’ But from what I see, no. You’re not a sadist—you’re a masochist! Pervert!”

“What? Oh, how’s Dahui doing? Every time she sees me, she shoves a gun in my face. I want to get along with her.”

“You know her whole situation and… Ugh, forget it.”

Kang Hyeonseong sighed in resignation.

“Goeun, if you see Dahui, really keep your mouth shut this time. Got it?”

“Why? Afraid she’ll point a gun at me again?”

“No! I’m afraid I’ll get dragged into it, you idiot!!”

“One-Man Thousand Kill Kang Hyeonseong, playing it safe.”

“Want me to add one more to today’s One-Man Thousand Kill tally?”

“Sorry.”

“Haaah.”

That aside,

Lee Taebaek was no ordinary madman either. It had been a while since he’d met someone who perfectly embodied giving poison and then the antidote.

His personality was impossible to pin down. That was exactly why Kang Hyeonseong had pulled him out of the Brain Prison.

…But still.

The level of madness exceeded his expectations.

This brought him to the second characteristic of mages.

Most mages were lunatics. In other words, crazy.

People said it was because they drowned in demonic qi.

But real mages claimed the rumors were wrong.

Lunatics were the ones who learned magic. That was the proper causal relationship.

“The higher your innate madness, the greater your resistance to demonic qi.”

She wiped the playfulness from her lips.

“You can stay calm even while casting spells. The more you succumb to madness, the weaker your magic gets.”

“…Having to stay calm when you’re inevitably going mad. It’s a contradiction. Utterly irrational.”

“Magic is the mystery that summons miracles. Miracles stem from contradictions and irrationality, by nature.”

Kang Hyeonseong listened closely. It was rare for a mage to explain the roots of magic firsthand. Especially since he needed to pay attention for his own “long-cherished wish.”

“Even Samadhi True Fire started from ‘Is there a way to make fire without flammable material like a lighter?’ That’s a contradiction from the get-go. Think about it. Humans have made fire with flint since prehistoric times—why bother?”

“Good point.”

“You have to break from conventional wisdom and rationality to reach the pinnacle of magic. Yet you must maintain reason amid that contradiction. That’s why normal people and mages can’t communicate.”

Kang Hyeonseong nodded.

“Sometimes I couldn’t follow what you were saying, but it wasn’t my comprehension lacking.”

“Huh?! I’m one of the more socially adept mages—top 5 percent at least!”

“If you’re top 5 percent, can the bottom 95 percent even function in daily life? How does the Magic Tower even stay afloat?”

“Normal mages don’t talk to people. Why? To them, ordinary folks are contradictory bugs—they don’t hesitate to kill.”

Goeun emphasized with her plump index finger raised.

“Innate internal energy capacity—magic power—is important, sure. But more crucial is the innate quality that lets you hold onto your sense of self amid swirling irrationality: ‘madness.’ That’s why mages value anti-magic resistance over total magic power.”

“Anti-magic resistance…”

“Magic power accumulates in the dantian over time, but temperament is set before birth. Reversal of Aging can roughly handle that.”

Was Reversal of Aging some random dog’s name?

“Talent is talent because effort can’t change it. In that context, high anti-magic resistance—being a lunatic—makes you a natural-born mage. The Right Luminary, the Magic Tower Master’s right hand, is the perfect example. You saw for yourself.”

“Then Lee Taebaek is…”

“Perfect.”

Goeun leaned back slowly against the bed, speaking as she did. Wrinkles spread across the blanket like spiderwebs.

“Not just anti-magic resistance—those abilities he uses, draining the opponent’s power? In my eyes, he’s gifted. I’ve never seen a gifted like that in my life.”

She was referring to the temporary authority [Nerf].

“Plus, his speed shifted unpredictably. Slow as molasses at first, then so fast in the end I could barely track him with my eyes. But instinctively, I knew that wasn’t his full power.”

“So.”

“Anti-magic resistance, gifted, potential. A total monster. Know who flashed in my mind when I faced him?”

‘Heavenly Demon.’ Goeun compared Lee Taebaek to that monster.

“I get the Commander’s intentions now. An assassin from the Magic Tower is probably coming soon. He needed someone to pass on his knowledge before then—like raising a disciple in his final years. That’s the true way of the jianghu.”

“…”

This was the third and final characteristic of mages.

They had a habit of trying to pass on their will to the next generation.

Mages took on multiple named disciples in an apprenticeship system. After a selection process, they chose one formal disciple and passed on all their knowledge.

The sole purpose and task of a mage.

To reach the endpoint of magic: a “miracle.”

It didn’t have to be the master themselves. They were satisfied if their successor achieved it. They even scorned their own lives.

‘Those who gladly offer their lives for the goal.’

That’s why they were the Demonic Cult and mages.

As Goeun said, you couldn’t even set foot in magic without going mad.

‘Is it okay to leave Taebaek with her?’

Kang Hyeonseong’s face paled as he looked at Goeun. He shook his head to dispel the worries.

“When’s your discharge?”

“Doctor says two weeks, but I need to get out ASAP. Can’t leave a guest alone.”

Kang Hyeonseong nodded and stood.

“I’ll guard you evenings for the next five days since I’m free then. Circulate your energy each time.”

“…”

Goeun started to say something but smiled brightly instead. She straightened her back and sat properly.

Screech.

Kang Hyeonseong quietly closed the door.

Outside the room, he leaned against it with arms crossed.

“Le… Tae… Baek.”

He muttered the name absentmindedly. Were there many people as layered as onions? From the Brain Prison until now.

Wherever Lee Taebaek went, incidents followed. He never resolved things peacefully, never hesitated with violence.

Sunset lazily slanted through the hallway window. Watching the scene just before the city lights ignited, he let out a wry chuckle.

‘Siesta Watchdog origin.’

That was all the info Kang Hyeonseong had on him.

However,

in this insane city whose creators were unknown,

in Lake City, that was a dime a dozen.

As mentioned earlier, the Silver Nose Bar was a three-story commercial building. The now-charred first floor had been the business space, while the second and third floors seemed to be living quarters.

While the landlady was hospitalized, the guest Lee Taebaek was staying alone on the second floor.

He had chosen it because it seemed like a guest room, furnished only with a bed and no other belongings.

It was an utter mess—tenant hospitalizing the landlord. But one thing was clear: he needed to pack his nonexistent belongings and leave.

He was about to, when what do you know?

He got a call from Kang Hyeonseong.

Three days ago.

[No need to leave. The landlady says it’s fine. You accepted that risk when you tested her. That’s the message. Rest up for now.]

He had been dubious at the time. Not only letting the culprit of the blackout stay, but telling him to relax?

Her straightforwardness was something, but this bordered on masochism.

On the other hand, considering mages’ traits, it made sense.

Magic reshaped the caster’s mental state and personality to match its attributes. They called it magic modification.

This had been my idea too.

Who knew it would pay off like this.

‘At least the guilt’s fading.’

Lee Taebaek didn’t dwell deeply.

Doing so would mean his personality had been magic-modified without him realizing, leading back to why he’d become an outlander in this game—like a salmon swimming upstream in autumn.

‘I’ll figure it out step by step anyway.’

He had become an external agent to investigate that. To track the Order of Chaos that Fumito mentioned.

Better than wallowing in useless guilt. Like novel or comic protagonists, it was better to stare blankly at an unfamiliar ceiling. So he did.

“…”

Lee Taebaek cradled his head with interlaced hands and stared vacantly at the ceiling from his lying position.

Now he got why people went on about unfamiliar ceilings. Nothing beat it for sorting thoughts. Faker’s hobby of meditation wasn’t for nothing.

The problem was doing this nonstop for three full days felt like mold growing in his brain folds.

Had there been such peaceful days since arriving here? Only obstacles and life-or-death battles.

His battered body should welcome the rest, but his brain—addicted to stimulation—found it boring rather than relaxing.

‘This must be what “dying of boredom” feels like.’

[Bullet Time]’s sensations still tingled down his spine. Like the hot plate of an electric chair. The electric jolt rippled through him, awakening his crouched violence.

The liberation of his beastly nature, shrunk by societal gaze and conventions. He thought it was a first.

After three days of meditation, he realized it wasn’t. It matched the thrill games gave.

In games, slaughter vented suppressed violence. Society’s gag came off—you hunted freely, grew, and reaped rewards.

That process was fun. As said, he was obsessed with games. Development was good; playing was better. And now he was inside one.

On top of that,

he had purpose as an operator: ‘bug hunting,’ and direction: ‘probing the Chaos Goddess.’

He denied it, but Lee Taebaek was enjoying the present. Even if his ego didn’t recognize it, his heart pounded against ribs and pleura.

‘It’s itching.’

His fight with Goeun came to mind.

Her magic and restrictions painted the drab ceiling like a canvas. Could he apply restrictions to [Bullet Time]? Even if already restricted, could he stack them? [Nerf] and [Buff]? His game brain accelerated growth circuits. An inexplicable laugh escaped.

‘Need real combat.’

He wanted to rush into the streets and beat some gangsters.

“Haa…”

A heavy sigh escaped. He knew he caused incidents easily.

Kang Hyeonseong’s voice had held worry. He couldn’t ignore that. Basic decency.

“I can only ask about the Lilith Order once Goeun or whoever gets back. Until then, half-forced unemployed life it is.”

Lee Taebaek unlinked his hands and rolled over. His bedside Para Blade caught his eye as he propped himself up.

Grip.

He reached for the Para Blade but clenched empty air. Grabbing it would be pouring oil on his violence.

Lee Taebaek closed his eyes. His inner turmoil vanished as if it never was, and he fell asleep instantly.

“Seo Punggae! You have to leave! Do you know where this is?!”

“Just a moment, Branch Leader. I need to check something. It’ll be quick. If you’re worried, go ahead and…”

A conversation leaked through the floorboards. Before opening his eyes, Lee Taebaek reached out and grabbed the Para Blade.

Combat reflexes overrode reason. He finally opened his eyes. Springing off the bed, he moved silently on light feet.