by J D Astra
“I’m not sure if you’ll be able to replicate the same effect, as I had Mae—” I stopped short, looking at Sung-ki.
He raised a brow in amusement. “You often think you get away with your deceit because I’ve played none the wiser. I assure you, Mr. Law, I know about the ghost trapped in you.”
I sighed—part of me relieved, and the other fearful for Mae’s safety.
Yuri gripped Cho’s trembling hand. “Just tell us how we can help.”
I nodded. “Right, so, Mae helped me to code my nanites. I’m not sure if she can explain it to you, but...”
Mae’s voice crackled to life through the speaker on my chest. “Feed the core shields with your ma, just willing ma. I can’t teach you to replicate the spell in time, but we’ve coded Jiyong’s ma to convert any willingly given munje into the shield. This will buy them time, but I’m not sure how much before Jiyong’s and the subjects’ ma is eradicated. The malware is smart. It will seek out the Jiyong’s ma first and destroy it. Without Jiyong’s ma, yours and the ailed students’ ma will do nothing.”
“I’ll stay with these students,” Sung-ki offered. “I can work on crafting a more natural solution between my rounds.”
“Me too,” Yuri said as her gaze locked on the trembling Cho.
“What can I do?” Shin-soo asked, apparently unfazed by the voice projecting from my chest. How was it that this didn’t surprise him? How long had he known about Mae, and why hadn’t he ratted me out to Tae-do?
Min-hwan motioned for Hana, Shin-soo, and me to follow him to the storeroom. He closed the door behind us. “The others have varying effects. Why is this?”
Mae sighed. “I don’t know. The malware reactions may have been pre-programmed based on the data that was sent for the last few hours, so it could be reacting to specific factors inside the body, or it could be completely random. I’d have to assess everyone.”
“I had trusted agents among the sungchal who investigated the Wong dojang. There was nothing there,” Min-hwan said as he turned to pace. “They got wind of our awareness somehow and must have moved everything.”
Ko-nah’s fake blush flashed through my mind. “I think I know how. Ko-nah wasn’t at dinner, and not in his room tonight. I think he’s working directly with Hiro Kumiho—the man in the fox mask.”
Shin-soo nodded. “I know the Wongs. All they want is strength and power. If they’re involved in this work, they would only be a willing partner for the strength drugs—probably the money too—but Ko-nah... He wants something else. He may want whatever this Hiro Kum-whatever wants.”
Min-hwan stroked his beard in long, flowing movements as he eyed Shin-soo. “When did you make the Silent Pact?”
Shin-soo’s eyes bulged. “How do you...?”
Min-hwan chuckled grimly. “I am a Grandmaster; detecting hidden spells is like breathing to me.”
“This summer,” Shin-soo said with a wince. It was obvious the pain was too great to say any more.
What in the name of Jigu was this Silent Pact?
“A promise that cannot be broken without breaking the mind and destroying the spirit,” Min-hwan replied to my thought. “Jiyong, you’ve tracked the signal before, yes?”
I nodded.
“Good. Then you can track it again,” he said as if it were final.
I stopped him. “We will need an infected to come with us to track it. Their status could deteriorate too quickly to heal on the way. Moreover, we could be far too late. They could’ve moved anywhere within or without the kingdom—”
“Leave that to me,” Min-hwan said in a commanding tone. “Your transport and your security detail are handled. We only need to know where to go.”
“Then I will consume the potion—”
“No!” Hana declared, stomping her foot. “I won’t allow you to do this.”
“I’ll do it,” Shin-soo offered. His eyes were dark, shadowed by his worry-stricken brow. But there was determination there, too. He was answering the call I’d given him long ago. Chase victory with me. What greater victory could we chase than saving our friends, our school?
But this wasn’t his responsibility. He didn’t cause this calamity, and I couldn’t weigh its consequences upon him. He’d tried to stop it, but his Silent Pact prevented him from telling us the truth outright—and still did. What else did he know that he couldn’t tell us?
“No,” I said as I shook my head. “Mae and I can track this better if it’s within us. That’s the only option.”
“That’s a lie,” Mae said to just me.
‘I will not risk another life.’
“Agreed. I know we can handle this,” she said with confidence in me for the first time in what felt like ages. “We’ve gotten so stupid lucky the last few months, there’s no way it’ll run out now, right?”
Min-hwan eyed me carefully. I wasn’t a fool. I knew he and Sung-ki heard the conversations that Mae and I had secretly—until I learned better control, of course.
The Grandmaster nodded. “Jiyong will take the smallest portion possible. A detail of fighters will accompany you to the site. Destroy the source of the signal, reverse it, do what you must to end this madness.”
“Not without me,” Hana said, holding my arm tightly.
I touched her hand and looked into her eyes. “You know what Hiro Kumiho is capable of. We are no match for him.”
She straightened, and her tone was level as she said, “All the more reason for me to go.”
“And me,” Shin-soo said with a nod.
“You could die,” I said, trying to dissuade him.
He shook his head, then shrugged. “What am I if I don’t rise to the challenge of a Bastion... to the challenge of my rival?”
I knocked my chest twice and held out my knuckles. Shin-soo’s face brightened, his brow smoothing a little as he returned the gesture. Perhaps we weren’t friends yet, but we would fight beside one another, tooth and nail, to the very last breath, chasing victory.
“So, it’s decided,” Min-hwan said. “Don’t let us down.”
Chapter 37
WE WAITED IN MIN-HWAN’S office for a few tense moments. When the door opened, a tall girl with muscles that dwarfed mine stepped through the door. She had to have been at least two meters tall and half as wide. She was an incredible feat of ridiculous training.
She smirked, then bowed. “I’m Bo-mei, but you can call me Bo. I’ll be escorting you on the mission.”
“Very good, thank you Bo. This is Jiyong, Hana, and Shin-soo. They all need to be given weapons.” Min-hwan led us to the door and into Bo’s care.
Bo bowed deeper. “Of course, Grandmaster.”
She turned to leave, and Min-hwan didn’t follow.
“You’re not coming?” I asked, concerned.
Min-hwan’s brow furrowed. “This was a difficult decision, but I must remain with the school. I trust in you, and our best fifth-years, to accomplish this task.”
He trusted me.
I bowed deeply. “Thank you, Grandmaster.”
“More than that,” he said as he pushed us out the door, “I believe you will win.”
“We will,” I said with determination.
He raised his brow at the towering fifth-year behind me. “Bo, if you would? I have other preparations to make.”
Bo led us down the hall of the instructors’ offices to a door I’d never seen. There was a complicated ma lock she worked with expert precision, and then the door slid back. There was a plain room, large enough to fit six people, and nothing else.
An elevator!
We got inside, and the doors shut with a hiss. The room jostled and then started moving down. I raised a puzzled brow at Hana.
“There’s a basement?” I asked her in a hush.
“Indeed,” Bo said with an amused smirk. “And you mustn’t tell the other second- or third-years it exists. This space is a reward for achieving four years of excellence.”
We came to a stop with a perky ding, and th
e door slid back.
Now, this was where the real treasure was at.
It was an ancient building, but instead of tattered ruins, it was like the well-kept space under the Wong’s dojang. The walls were sleek metal lined with artificial lights—control panels whose purpose I couldn’t glean at this distance.
Bo waved her hand to the hall before us. “Welcome to The Arsenal.”
Distant sounds of combat echoed off the walls, inviting us in. We followed after Bo, eager to discover the precious secrets only fourth- or fifth-years knew.
There were rooms dedicated to weapons training, sparring areas, huge rooms with hanging chains and blocks that didn’t make any sense to me, and so much more. We didn’t get to explore these rooms—though I would most certainly do that next year before the exchange.
The weapon storage room was our destination. Despite my desire to look around, I remembered we had an urgent objective. The massive storage room was at least half the size of the stadium at the Rabid Rabbit. It descended five floors, and each layer down had cooler and cooler weapons.
When we reached the bottom, the air was practically electric. Every weapon had its own glass case on the wall, and that case was protected in a layer of reflective ma munje. These weapons were dangerous.
“This is a katana,” Bo said as she gestured to a glass case containing a slender sword.
The weapon thrummed with desire, and when she deactivated the shield, that pulse turned blood red.
“The blade thirsts for blood. It is a powerful tool, but it can be demanding.” She removed the blade with slow reverence, then passed it to me.
I breathed deep and pulled the weapon into my grip. Heat trickled up my arms from the handle, and then power unyielding rushed through me. I dropped to one knee, gritting my teeth as I struggled under the strength of the sword. It was as if the thing was submitting me to its will, its desire.
Blood.
Give blood.
Bo yanked the weapon from my grasp. “This will not do. You need something more compatible.”
I sighed when I regained control of my body. “We’re running out of time, Bo. We need to get moving, and we need to be adequately armed.”
She nodded, then tapped her chin. We followed her one floor up, to a small wall of glowing blades.
“For Hana—the ry master as I understand it—twin eunjangdo. The daggers are small, concealed in the hanbok, and can be imbued with ry or en munje easily.” Bo took two crystal daggers that matched Hana’s eyes from the shelf. They were thin and only twelve to fourteen centimeters in length. She handed them to Hana with a similar reverence.
Hana gulped and tensed when she took the weapons. She winced, but a moment later, relaxed. She spun the blades between her fingers with a flourish of blue light as if she’d done it a million times. She took a fighting stance, then took a few jabs. Her arms phased. I didn’t know how else to describe what I was seeing, but one second her arm was at her guard, and the next it was extended in a blur of blue.
“It feels right,” she said with exhilaration.
Bo nodded and moved on. “For Shin-soo, the gwonbi, a spiked fist weapon,” Bo said as she handed Shin-soo the silver ringed weapon. There was space for three fingers to fit through, and a small block that laid in the palm of his hand.
Hana looked at the weapon with longing, and I knew that the gwonbi would soon be her weapon of choice for training.
“This will allow you to channel zo though your fists and into the opponent. They can be stunned, immobilized, and worse, as long as your zo control holds.” Before he could try them out, Bo moved on.
“The jangchang for the ma master. Keep your opponent at arm’s length and modulate their munje from a distance. Be in control of every situation,” she said, and handed the long spear to me.
Symbols had been carved down the metal shaft of the weapon. The spearhead was at least the width of my spread hand and three times as long. At the center of the pronged arrow was a black crystal.
“Is this what I think it is?” I whispered in disbelief.
“It’s a core crystal,” Mae cut in. “Someone died to make this weapon, didn’t they?”
Bo nodded. “This is an ancient weapon. We do not know how it was constructed, and only great ma masters have wielded it. It contains the power of Enlightenment.”
She rested a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Jiyong, your ma mastery is what we’re depending on, and if I understand correctly, your ghost. Keep her safe.”
“I will.”
Bo bowed, then ushered us back topside and out to the open grass next to the glade.
Min-hwan waited there for us, hands clasped in front of him. There were two fifth-years standing beside him. “These excellent students will accompany you.”
The first man had a thin moustache and slicked back black hair. He was big across the chest, with a square jaw, and a determined stare that said he’d been in combat before. “I’m Gui-ne, en master of the fifth-years,” he said with a bow.
Next to him was a man not as burly as Gui-ne, but whose devious smile and belt of vials told me he was more than ready for what lay ahead. He was lean, with no bit of his dobok hanging loosely—even the bits that should’ve been loose...
“I’m Se-nim, li master of the whole school,” he smirked and bowed.
Gui-ne gave him a stern glare, but then ignored his comrade when Min-hwan cleared his throat. “I am entrusting you with one of Woong-ji’s most precious creations.” Golden ma munje swirled about the Grandmaster’s arms and hands.
He flicked the munje down onto the dried grass, and the world trembled beneath our feet. A split opened in the ground and the dry grass parted, showing three to four meters of dirt, then another two meters of metal. Below was a dark chasm of wonder, where green and gold lights flickered. There was a high-pitched whirring noise and we all stepped back as a massive, elongated balloon emerged from the earth.
It was a red and black cloth bound by golden bands in a long, horizontal teardrop shape. There was a gold control center at the front with plated windows, large enough for ten or so people.
“This is the Golden Wing. Treat her with respect,” Min-hwan said as he approached the giant machina.
The ground thudded behind me and the mechanical whirring of gears drew my attention. I turned to see a massive machina-man, three and a half meters tall. The metal was red and gold with black symbols for strength and others I didn’t recognize glowing down the arms and legs. It stopped before me, and the faceplate shifted up and out of the way.
Woong-ji’s crazed face appeared in the hollow of the suit. “What do you think of Titan?”
So that’s what she’d been working on all year. Not a battle bot, but a battle suit—Titan—and she was the reservoir to fit inside. Amazing.
Min-hwan held a small vial out to me that shimmered with opalescent deceit. “Sung-ki has mixed the offending malware with a combination of herbs he thinks will stave off the effects.”
“Thank him for me, please?” I asked and accepted the offering.
He put his hand on my shoulder. “We haven’t located Ko-nah, and three of the exchange students are missing, too. Be on your guard,” he warned gravely.
My mind’s eye came alive with images as I connected all the dots.
Ko-nah had been watching all year, learning his enemy: me.
Shin-soo didn’t seem fazed when Mae spoke through me, didn’t even flinch, because he’d been sworn to a Silent Pact in which he knew about her. He knew the plan provoked my protective nature. He knew Tae-do and Ko-nah were setting me up. Shin-soo had done the best he could to warn me all year, with every word and every glance.
But why? Why me?
“Not you,” Mae whispered. “Me.”
I turned to the boy I once called bully, my heart racing. “Do they know where I live?”
His eyes narrowed in a painful wince.
There was no time to wait, then. I held the vile concoction to my lips. ‘Are we re
ady?’
“As we’ll ever be.”
We didn’t know what effects the potion would have on me or Mae. Would it try to kill us like Tae-do and Cho, or would we go blind like Il-sung? I didn’t know if the protection on my core would be enough, or if Sung-ki’s mixture could hold it off. We didn’t know what would happen.
I tipped the vial back and swallowed the sour liquid despite my reflex to spit it out. The cold liquid tingled on my tongue, prickling like tiny needles. Those needles turned to glass in my throat, and I winced, gritting my teeth. I swallowed twice more, and finally the feeling dulled to something tolerable.
I bowed deeply to Min-hwan. “We will return victorious.”
“I’d expect nothing less of Bastions.” He bowed just as deep.
I stepped into the passenger carriage of the Golden Wing with my spear, and the others followed. Gui-ne took the helm, and within minutes, we were high in the air.
The pain of the malware returned as a dull heat in my chest that zapped the strength from my limbs. I gasped and slouched down against the wall. The school fell farther and farther away in the glass behind me. We could see the palace and the whole kingdom. From here, finding the signal would be easy.
“West,” Mae said aloud, sounding distracted. I knew she was mobilizing my ma to fight the influx of malware.
Gui-ne turned the spoked wheel of the Golden Wing. The massive balloon changed course, and we drifted away from the palace. I kept cycling ma for Mae to block off my core as I sat on the ground. Hana nestled up in the crook of my neck and wrapped her arms around me. She was warm, and the zo she cycled moved into me with calming effects. I didn’t resist as she instructed my muscles to relax.
“We’re going to win. You know that, right?” she asked in a whisper.
“I know,” I said, looking deep into her colorful eyes.
An arrow appeared in my vision pointing northwest, and I advised Gui-ne to adjust our heading. Mae couldn’t waste energy speaking through me while she tried to keep my core from disintegrating, so I took over the directions.
