“It’d take me five seconds to kill this guy.”
What had started as a simple plan to subdue his opponent had taken a darker turn. Corporal Jeon Gwangil’s body, overtaken by madness, moved on its own.
“...What the!?”
Gwangil had already been overwhelming the armored man with sheer speed and power. But now, his movements had become something else entirely—something his opponent had no chance of countering.
**CRACK!**
His massive hand, gripped by rage, seized the armored man’s helmet. With a single hand, Gwangil began to crush it.
**Creak...**
“S-Spare me...”
The steel helmet, thick and durable, began to warp under the immense pressure. The head inside was mere moments from being obliterated.
“Stop this at once!”
A voice rang out from behind the armored man.
“...Ah.”
The sound snapped Gwangil partially out of his trance. He tried to pull back, but his body didn’t respond fast enough.
“Guhh... gah!”
His hand pressed further, pushing into the steel, ready to destroy the flesh beneath.
**WHAM!**
Suddenly, someone rushed in with incredible speed, swinging a staff that struck Gwangil’s hand. The blow forced his grip to loosen. Simultaneously, another figure grabbed him by the back of the neck and yanked him away.
“Haa... haa...”
The events unfolded in an instant. The armored man collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath. Had the intervention been even a moment later, he wouldn’t have survived.
‘What did I just do?’
Gwangil stared down at his trembling hands, stepping back in horror. Losing control was one thing—but he had nearly killed an innocent man.
“Gwangil.”
The voice pulled him back to reality. Turning around, he saw the face of Sergeant Shin Youngjun.
“S-Sergeant...”
The shame was overwhelming. Gwangil lowered his head, unable to meet his superior’s gaze. He had been entrusted with this mission, yet he had nearly caused irreversible damage.
“I...”
Before he could finish, Youngjun interrupted him, smiling faintly as he patted Gwangil on the shoulder.
“You did well.”
“...What?”
Youngjun’s calm words caught Gwangil off guard. He had expected anger, disappointment—anything but this.
“The slip-up at the end? Sure, it’s a shame. But honestly, that’s partly on me. And besides...” Youngjun’s smile widened slightly. “You showed me something interesting.”
“Interesting...?”
“There’s something to it,” Youngjun said cryptically. “Anyway, good job. Take a break.”
Still confused, Gwangil stepped back, giving Youngjun a wide berth as he tried to process what had just happened.
---
Meanwhile, the armored men were recovering. One of them, who had arrived later, knelt by the injured man and placed a glowing hand on his body. A soft white light emanated from his palm, mending the man’s wounds.
‘A healer? Or maybe... a priest Awakened?’
The healing light was reminiscent of the medics Youngjun had seen in his corps. But something about this individual seemed different.
‘No... not a typical healer. That staff strike was too precise. Too strong.’
The movements of the armored man Gwangil had fought were also unusual. The strength and precision of the staff strike that broke Gwangil’s grip hinted at a unique skill set.
‘Not a pure healer. Probably someone who balances combat and healing... like a paladin.’
As Youngjun observed the situation, Sanghyup stepped forward to explain.
“These men aren’t deserters! They’re actual soldiers from a surviving military unit—”
“Actual soldiers?” the defeated armored man interrupted, his tone bitter. “The military’s been wiped out for years. Everyone knows that! Any soldier left alive is just another deserter—armed and dangerous!”
“Wait a moment.”
Another voice cut through the tension. One of the newly arrived men, calm and composed, interrupted the argument.
“These people... they came from the south, didn’t they?”
“The south?” The defeated man blinked. “Oh... yeah, they mentioned that.”
“Then think. What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you hear about the south?”
“...?”
“We talked about this in the last meeting, didn’t we? There’s a rumor of a large military base still operating in the south.”
“Oh.”
Realization dawned on the defeated man, who nodded awkwardly.
“I guess I... wasn’t paying much attention back then.”
The calm man sighed. “Typical.”
---
With tensions easing, the armored man who had stopped Gwangil stepped forward, removing his helmet. His bald head gleamed in the dim light, and his composed demeanor made an immediate impression.
“If I may ask, what is your purpose here?”
“Ah, yes,” Sanghyup began, stepping forward. “We came to propose—”
“Wait,” Sanghyup froze mid-sentence, his brow furrowing. “What did you just say?”
“I asked what your purpose is for coming to *our temple.*”
Temple.
That single word sent a wave of confusion through the squad.
‘A monk?’
It wasn’t impossible. A group like this, nestled deep in the mountains, could easily be a monastic order. Their strength and organization fit the profile.
But something about this revelation made Youngjun pause. He turned to Sanghyup, his voice tinged with suspicion.
“Sanghyup. Don’t tell me...”
“...”
“...You planned to sell jerky to monks?”
His voice was flat, but the disbelief in his tone was unmistakable.
“You lunatic.”
I may not be an expert in trade, but even I know the basics.
**Supply and demand.**
To sell something, you need someone willing to buy it. Yet here we were, attempting to sell jerky at a temple—where meat consumption was likely forbidden.
It was essentially offering a product where the demand was *zero.*
“...Are you really a merchant?” I asked, incredulous.
“Well, uh... this is strange. My intel didn’t mention anything about this being a temple,” Sanghyup stammered, looking visibly flustered.
I sighed. Thinking back, he had mentioned earlier that he didn’t have much information about this group.
‘Right, this guy’s still under level 10,’ I reminded myself. His profession was “Novice Merchant,” and his traits were probably the most basic level.
‘Even with information-gathering skills, there are limits to what he can do.’
Still, of all things, to try selling jerky at a temple? That was pushing it.
Even Sanghyup seemed more panicked than I was.
‘Actually... could this work?’
In this world, even monks wouldn’t have much food security. Perhaps their survival instincts would override their dietary restrictions, and they’d make an exception.
The odds weren’t zero. In fact, they were fairly decent.
‘Not that it really matters.’
The trade offer was a bonus. If it worked, great. If not, it didn’t matter. The main goal was securing an alliance, and so far, the situation wasn’t looking too bad.
‘Gwangil played his part well.’
Thanks to Gwangil’s relentless assault, the armored man had been forced to reveal his full strength.
‘Though, that burst of madness at the end was a bit much.’
That uncontrollable power... it wasn’t Gwangil’s fault. If anything, I was to blame for turning him into a berserker.
‘Still, no reason to blame him for it. If anything, it helped us assess the enemy’s capabilities.’
The man Gwangil fought was strong, no doubt. But what intrigued me more was the bald monk who had intervened.
‘The way he shoved Gwangil back... that wasn’t normal.’
Compared to the first man, the monk’s movements were on an entirely different level. This wasn’t just about stats or physical ability—it felt like he was using a technique we didn’t understand.
‘If these two are representative of their group... they could rival us.’
---
“What sort of trade are you proposing?” the bald monk asked, breaking my train of thought.
“We brought food,” Sanghyup said with a smile. “A variety of supplies.”
“Food...!”
The monk’s eyes widened, unable to hide his surprise. He glanced around quickly to make sure no one else was listening. Once satisfied, he leaned in closer.
“Is that true?”
“Yes. However, there’s a slight issue—”
“If that’s the case,” the monk interrupted, clearly deep in thought. After a moment of hesitation, he continued, “You’ll need to surrender your weapons.”
“Excuse me?”
“Before we proceed any further, I’ll need to take you to the head abbot. But first, your weapons must be secured. Also—”
“Also?”
“Until you meet the abbot, you must not speak of food to anyone.”
---
The request was met with a mix of reactions from my squad. Surrendering weapons wasn’t ideal, but it {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} wasn’t entirely unreasonable, given their position.
Letting armed soldiers roam freely within their temple would be a risky gamble from their perspective. After a brief discussion, we decided to comply.
---
One by one, we handed over our visible weapons.
“This,” I said, holding out a handgun, “is all I have.”
The monk raised a brow. “Only this? No other weapons?”
“That’s correct,” I replied calmly.
The handgun wasn’t my real weapon, of course. My knives remained safely concealed within the shadows of my storage ability.
‘Good thing I always carry a handgun for situations like this.’
After the weapons were collected, the monk gestured for us to follow him.
---
As we climbed further into the mountains, the fortified structures of the temple came into view. The walls were reinforced with salvaged materials, and armored guards patrolled diligently.
Beyond the gates, the interior of the temple grounds left me momentarily speechless.
‘...Why are there so many people here?’
The temple wasn’t just a religious sanctuary—it had become a sprawling refuge. Tents were pitched everywhere, housing an overwhelming number of survivors.
‘If I’d known, I would’ve brought a chaplain,’ I thought. Our unit’s former Buddhist chaplain, now Awakened as a priest, might have had insights into this place.
As we walked through the grounds, my squad exchanged uneasy glances. The sheer number of people, combined with their desperate state, made it hard to gauge the temple’s stability.
“Surprised by the number of people?” the monk asked, noticing our reactions.
“A bit, yes,” I admitted.
“Many survivors in the area sought our protection. We accepted them all, which is how things came to be this way.”
Their condition wasn’t great, but the fact that so many people had gathered here was remarkable.
“Impressive,” I said honestly.
The monk’s expression shifted slightly. “Impressive?”
“Yes. Managing this many people in one place takes incredible effort. It’s no small feat.”
“...Perhaps,” he replied, though his tone was distant. His expression darkened as he quickened his pace.
‘What’s with that reaction?’
From what I’d seen so far, the monks here were strong—more than strong enough to defend this place. Combined with the sheer number of people, they seemed like a formidable group.
‘So why does he look so uneasy?’
Before I could ask, he cleared his throat.
“We should hurry. The abbot is waiting.”
---
Just as we reached the inner sanctum, a shout rang out from behind us.
“Venerable Seungju!”
Turning, I saw a man rushing toward us, his expression tense.
“Tch. I was afraid of this,” Seungju muttered under his breath.
The man stopped in front of us, his sharp eyes scanning our group.
“Soldiers?” he growled, his tone dripping with disdain. “Are you insane, Seungju? Did you bring deserters into the temple!?”
“They’re not deserters,” Seungju replied calmly. “Please, calm yourself.”
“Calm myself? You think I can stay calm!?” the man roared. “We’re already starving, and now you’ve brought in more mouths to feed? Soldiers, no less!?”
His voice carried across the courtyard, drawing the attention of nearby refugees. Their murmurs grew louder, their gazes turning suspiciously toward us.
The tension in the air was suffocating.
---
"Calm down, Jinsu," Seungju said, his voice steady but firm.
"Calm down? We’re barely surviving! If they cause trouble, it’ll be your fault!"
Seungju sighed, shaking his head. I studied the scene, noting the strained dynamic between the monk and the angry man.
‘This isn’t just tension. There’s something deeper going on here.’
---
“This feels off,” I muttered to myself.
And the more I observed, the clearer it became: this wasn’t just off—it was a powder keg waiting to explode.
The squad handed over their weapons one by one, reluctantly placing their trust in the unknown group.
It wasn’t ideal—trusting strangers enough to disarm themselves was a gamble—but it seemed unavoidable given the circumstances.
“We can’t allow armed soldiers to enter the inner grounds,” the monk explained firmly.
From their perspective, the logic was clear. Letting armed strangers roam their sanctuary would invite trouble. Begrudgingly, we chose to comply.
---
One of the monks examined each weapon carefully.
“Here,” I said, handing over my handgun.
“Hmm? Is this all you have?”
“Yes.”
The monk nodded, though his eyes lingered on me briefly, as if considering whether to press further.
Of course, I wasn’t about to hand over everything. My real weapons—my knives—remained safely hidden in my shadow storage.
‘Good thing I carry a handgun for show. Better to leave them something than nothing.’
---
Once the last of the weapons was collected, we were allowed to proceed deeper into the temple grounds.
The ascent through the mountain revealed more of their defenses: reinforced walls patched together with salvaged materials, and heavily armed guards patrolling strategically placed posts.
Finally, we passed through the gates of the temple proper—and what lay beyond caught me off guard.
‘...Why are there so many people here?’
The temple wasn’t just a monastic refuge—it was a sprawling camp. Tents filled every available space, sheltering a seemingly endless population of refugees.
‘I would’ve brought a chaplain if I’d known it was like this,’ I thought. Our unit’s former Buddhist chaplain, now Awakened as a priest, would’ve been invaluable in navigating a situation like this.
The overwhelming number of people combined with the monks’ presence painted a strange picture of organized chaos.
---
“Surprised by the number of people?” Seungju asked, noticing our expressions.
“Yes,” I admitted. “This many people in one place... it’s unexpected.”
The monk nodded gravely. “Many survivors from nearby regions sought our protection. Over time, we accepted them all, which is how it’s come to this.”
Despite the dire circumstances, I couldn’t help but be impressed.
“That’s remarkable,” I said honestly.
“Remarkable?” The monk tilted his head, his tone turning slightly cold.
“Yes. Managing this many people in one place is no small feat. It must’ve taken incredible effort.”
“...Perhaps,” he replied, though his face darkened as he averted his gaze.
‘What’s with that reaction?’
From what I’d seen, these monks were formidable fighters, each one likely capable of holding their own against multiple enemies. Combined with the sheer number of people under their care, they should’ve been proud of what they’d built.
Instead, the monk’s unease only deepened.
---
Without waiting for further questions, Seungju quickened his pace.
“We should hurry. The abbot is waiting.”
Just as we were about to enter the temple’s inner sanctum, a voice called out sharply.
“Seungju!”
Turning, I saw a man hurrying toward us, his face twisted with frustration.
“Tch. I was afraid of this,” Seungju muttered.
The man stopped in front of us, glaring first at the monk and then at us. His eyes narrowed as they fell on our uniforms.
“Soldiers? Are you insane, Seungju? Did you seriously bring deserters into the temple!?”
“They’re not deserters,” Seungju replied calmly. “Please, lower your voice.”
“Lower my voice? You think I can stay calm!?” the man roared. “We’re already starving, and now you bring in more mouths to feed? Soldiers, no less!?”
His anger was palpable, his voice echoing across the courtyard. Refugees nearby stopped what they were doing, their suspicious gazes turning toward us.
---
‘This guy isn’t Awakened,’ I noted, activating my analysis skill.
[Ingredient Analysis (Enhanced)]
[Name: Hong Jeongsu]
[Species: Primate - Human]
[Freshness: High]
Nothing else. No combat capabilities, no traces of Awakening.
‘So why is he acting so bold?’
Despite his lack of strength, the man spoke to Seungju—a clearly high-level monk—with open hostility.
The longer I observed, the more unsettled I became. I began focusing my senses, scanning the area for traces of Awakened energy.
Among the countless refugees crowding the temple grounds, there were shockingly few signs of Awakening.
‘Why are there so few Awakened here?’
With monks as powerful as Seungju, it should’ve been easy to recruit and train more Awakened. Yet the overwhelming majority of the population appeared to be ordinary people.
---
The scene triggered an old memory from the chaotic early days after the apocalypse.
---
“If even one soldier refuses to Awaken, it sets a dangerous precedent,” Minjae had warned me back then. “Others will start making excuses, and before you know it, the whole unit fractures.”
“And once that happens, the unit weakens,” I had replied grimly.
---
As the argument continued, my unease deepened. The power dynamic between the monks and the refugees wasn’t just tense—it felt dangerously imbalanced.
‘This isn’t just about food or resources.’
Seungju’s wary glances, the angry man’s brazen defiance, and the refugees’ sullen stares all painted a troubling picture.
“This feels off,” I muttered to myself.
And the longer I observed, the more certain I became: this wasn’t just off—it was a disaster waiting to happen.
