Ever since the advent of Gates emerging all over the world and the great catastrophe which struck America and cost countless lives, society as a whole had changed drastically. Hundreds to thousands of new institutions had been created by private companies and the government alike in order to adapt a kind of 'evolution' Earth was commencing; a famous theory proposed by scientists worldwide.
At the focal point of this fluctuating global climate, was what people could only describe as a miracle. Mana, the source of energy so potent it had nearly made nuclear energy obsolete, and beheld with enough robustness to render modern weaponry antiquated.
Hunters—Awakened individuals—were born from its womb when the world began to be flooded by the mysterious force, but those who were unable to withstand the sudden ethereal influx were bequeathed by misfortune and sent to Eternal Slumber. In comparison, it was no different from natural birth, where miscarriages were a wide possibility should circumstances come into play.
Sung Jin-Woo knew this very well, because he had a mother who had been quartered to the phenomenon's malignancy, and experienced the many trials and tribulations that came with it.
He was glad to have put it behind himself and finally spent time with his family, feeling like an older brother, a proud son, but...
...Nevermind.
He tore his thoughts away from unhealthy ruminations.
Currently, he was sitting in a sparsely lit interrogation room with a one-sided mirror window by his left. He turned himself in to the police, not wanting to spur any problems with the authorities the first moment he had reached civilization, even if he had already technically done so.
At the very least, entering the Gate without permission wasn't anything major—he hoped—but he hadn't had much of a choice considering the System's 'penalty' was straight up stopping his heart from beating.
Now there was nothing for him to do other than to browse the library of his mind in this interrogation room, picking out stored books that would pique his interest or serve to help his dilemma.
Said dilemma being that he had come to the realization that this world—whatever it was christened—might be on a far more dangerous precipice than he could have imagined. Jin-Woo already knew practically nothing about it, but the mere fact that Gates was sprouting about...
...Will there be a Mana incursion here too?
A hand was placed over his mouth, Jin-Woo's eyes moderately widening at the strike of thunder within his brainstorm, an approximation of what's to come.
If his influence was somehow bleeding those Gates to start invading this new world, where Mana wasn't a prominent source of energy as evinced by his senses not detecting even a molecule of Mana in the atmosphere, then...
Oh.
With a stressed exhale, Jin-Woo leaned back on his chair and placed his hands in his coat's pocket, feeling the resting hood rubbing against his nape.
If I don't deal with those Gates, then this world will have to deal with an 'Age of Awakening'.
Although a developmental phase almost surpassing even the industrial revolution's influence and significance looked good on ivory paper, that was far beyond the case.
Black Market economies, elitism, conflict over new resources, PMCs, Mana drugs, wide-spread PTSD, inhumane experimentations, misinformation, xenophobia, grooming, destruction, terrorism, cults, and all the like were among a small laundry list of problems that had surged due to the affliction of Mana upon society.
The first few years were some of the most chaotic civilization had been, something Jin-Woo remembered witnessing himself. Thankfully, society was able to reconstitute itself back into order, with new markets both positive and negative opening up en masse.
Magical Beasts will also be a severe problem because Manaless weapons won't affect them.
Even if one were to drop an atom bomb on an E-Rank Goblin, it wouldn't even leave a scratch on the creature. For every monster in general, anything without Mana has been displayed time and time again to be useless against them.
To further rub salt into the wound, all forms of technology, along with machinery, were disabled due to specific Mana wavelength inside the bowels of Dungeons.
Unless this new world was able to regain its bearings from rapid change, then a single Dungeon Break of a dangerous enough Gate could cause an entire city to fall.
These facts further cemented the idea pertaining to clearing every single Gate that appeared on this planet. With the System sending him constant Urgent Quests to locate them with waypoints and traversing the planet with Kaisel's immense speed, it... should be possible.
...No, what was he thinking? If even one-percent of the amount of daily Gates from Earth appeared on Terra, it would completely eat up his time. As resilient as his faculties may be, Jin-Woo was not wholly foolhardy enough to believe he could solve all problems in the world's ladle.
Gates should be included in that category.
He thinned his lips, stretching his hand out, habitually reaching into his Inventory and pulling out from its subspace a piece of milk bread wrapped in plastic.
Maybe if I keep developing my Shadow army, then it's plausible to some degree.
He tore the wrapper, using it as a sort of 'napkin' that would keep his hands from being dirtied by the milk bread's crumbs.
Jin-Woo then took a bite out of its flocculent skin, letting the flour-based meal basically melt in his mouth.
But as it stands, isn't it just inevitable?
The world was upon an ever-changing aegis, and it was imprudent to believe that large-scale modifications, reforms, or the like could be stopped. If he slipped once, it was likely this world would be exposed to Mana. Even if, hypothetically, he continued to clear Gate after Gate after Gate, what if they never stopped appearing?
He couldn't immortalize himself—by any means he was aware of—and he didn't desire to become an immortal being living until eternity's end. The concept was bone-chilling enough; living until the heat death of the Universe whilst being in constant battle.
Jin-Woo bit into his milk bread again, feeling tension within his incorporeal psyche.
Since when did I become so high-strung?
It would've been nice to just cook his mother and his sister a warm meal.
***
Ch'en Hui-chieh walked down a vacant hallway with her eyes focused firmly forward, brows creased as she moved through a multiplicity of radio channels, checking on the status of some squadrons and the current state of the highway she was previously at.
Another woman, Mei, a Liberi translator who had close ties to the L.G.D. walked beside her with a clipboard in her hands. Although she was referred to by Swire—a Feline woman whom Ch'en had some reservations about—Mei's accolades and credentials were certainly nothing to scoff at.
"Superintendent to Channel 2, what's the current state of Highway 56? Over." she asked, finger tapping against a button to receive from a specific channel.
Mei spared a glance her way out of habit if naught else, but quickly swerved back to her clipboard, pen lightly tapping just below her lips.
"Niu highway looks to be completely cleared of that strange phenomenon, over," a voice replied from the other side. "No signs of it reappearing. Officer Xiao said that it's likely that traffic should return to normal after we clear the roadblocks."
"That..." Ch'en's voice drew out.
"Think we should clean things up, over?"
"...Do one more sweep and check around the perimeter so we can be certain," she eventually got out. "After that, have provisional officers rotate between shifts over there for the next week or so to make doubly sure nothing else springs up, over."
"Copy that, Ch'en sir," the voice said with affirmation. "We'll get things in business, then. Is that all you need?"
The buzz of her communications device lingered for a second before she opened her mouth. "That's all I need. Update me on anything else that happens, over."
"Loud and clear."
The feed ended there as Ch'en detached her finger from the receiver button, releasing a small sigh in the form of a gust.
"I saw on the news," Mei began, attracting the Lung's attention. "The media was in a frenzy that the L.G.D. deployed what was essentially a platoon against one unassuming man."
"He's anything but unassuming," Ch'en replied back exasperatedly, mood dropping. Any mention of the mass media elicited a bout of stress within her, with how much misinformation and red herrings were injected into its digital veins.
"I know," Mei said whilst adjusting her glasses, then pushing a small strand of black hair behind her ear. "It must have been bold of him to waltz right on behind the barricades and enter that strange phenomenon. Do you believe he has knowledge of what it is?"
"Not your clearance to know, apologies." She brushed the Liberi off, speaking half-heartedly.
"Ah, apologies," the other woman apologetically said—with robotic courtesy—and bowed her head for a second. "I won't overstep again."
"Ease up, I'm not going to chew you over it," Ch'en said.
Truth be told, she was conflicted with this woman, Mei. Although she was a decent person outwardly and hasn't begot any controversy in her line of work, the fact that she was associated with Swire, closely, rubbed the Lung the wrong way.
She hated being biased, but it was impossible to completely rid oneself of prejudice. Being self-aware of this fact continued to cultivate a sense of irritation the more she became self-aware of it and its implicit dominion.
"Is that the room?" Mei asked, snapping the Superintendent out of her contemplative self-reflection.
"Room A-5?" Ch'en said on impulse when seeing the label. "It is. Let's go." She nodded, motioning for the translator to follow along, inputting a code in the terminal, and then watching the automatic door open itself. "You first." She stepped to the side.
"M goi," Mei said her thanks, lowering her head respectfully as she walked through, bringing the clipboard she held closer to her chest with two arms.
"M sai haak hei," Ch'en replied, seeing no need for the other woman to be so polite.
The two eventually entered a sparse room with an L.G.D. officer stood by a door guarding it. They noticed them and nodded, picking out a pair of keys and inserting it into a second door, turning it and then opening it.
Ch'en and Mei themselves nodded their way as they entered where their subject of interest was, into a rather monotonous room as the former had grown accustomed to.
However...
"Uh—Uhm...?" Mei, who was the first to enter once again, paused in her steps whilst creating room for Ch'en to enter. "Superintendent?"
"What—?" Ch'en raised an eyebrow, stepping past the border as she turned right, toward where the black-haired man she remembered detaining should—
There he was with a tall figure, adorned in black, and an open maw hovering just over a half-eaten soft bread-like snack; the rustling of commercial plastic polymers crinkling. He was icebound mid-motion, eyes meeting their own. The seal to complete the entire ensemble was in his left hand, an unlocked can of beer.
An interval of silence passed by the three as Mei side-glanced the Superintendent, befuddlement lacquered upon her face.
Ch'en fared no better with her brows furrowing, contemplating whether a guard had walked inside and given the detained individual food or not. If that were the case, she would have a thousand words to speak to whomever the prodigious fool was.
The black-haired man, perhaps reading the situation, immediately stuffed the last pieces of the bread in his mouth and then gulped down the beer can with haste. Right after, he crushed the can and plastic to the point where they couldn't even be seen inside his enclosed fist, shoving compressed bits into his pocket.
He cleared his throat, the two still gobsmacked at his display—Ch'en herself feeling a swath of vexation perturb herself—the black-haired man entered a more suitable sitting position, interlocking his fingers and crossing his legs.
It was an attempt to look presentable, and against all odds, it worked.