Chapter 3: Of Magical Girls and Misandry

Si-yool had always considered North Korea a joke. Their threats of turning Seoul into a sea of fire and their propaganda balloons were more comical than threatening. Yet, while he was toiling away in another world, North Korea had nearly made good on their promise, not just to Seoul, but to the entire world.

Not through conventional warfare, but through monsters – kaijin – or, as they were colloquially known, Buk-kaijin – monsters from the North.

“You’re not wrong about them being from North Korea,” the officer admitted. “But they’re not human, not like North Korean defectors.”

“Are you saying North Koreans aren’t human?” Si-yool quipped.

“No! They’re monsters!” the officer exclaimed, clutching his head.

Ignoring his outburst, Si-yool posed another question. “If the monsters directly invaded South Korea, how did they attack other countries?”

“They strapped them to missiles instead of nukes,” the officer replied flatly.

“Rocket delivery,” Si-yool muttered. He realized that had he not been isekai’d, he would have been dragged back into the military to fight these monsters. Either way, it would have been a terrible situation.

He turned his attention back to the matter at hand. “So, my parents are still missing? That’s why there are no records?”

“That’s the most likely scenario. Unless someone reports them, the records remain blank,” the officer confirmed.

Despair washed over Si-yool. He’d returned from another world only to find himself a thirty-three-year-old, unemployed, orphaned high school graduate. While there was a slim chance his parents were alive, he held little hope. They were ordinary people, without the wealth or connections to survive such a catastrophe. He knew, from his experience in the other world, that ordinary people were always the first casualties.

He felt a pang of regret. He should have kept a photo of them.

“I understand,” he said quietly.

“Not really,” the officer corrected gently, sensing his mood. “Many people used this as an opportunity to apply for asylum in other countries.”

This gave Si-yool a new, albeit distant, goal: find his parents. Perhaps they were still alive. If not, he would at least find their remains.

For now, he needed information. He was a stranger in his own land.

“Really? Why would they leave? South Korea’s the best place to live if you have money.”

“The people who stayed were taxed heavily to rebuild the country,” the officer explained.

Si-yool wasn’t surprised. South Korea had a history of mistreating its citizens. He was almost surprised the country hadn’t collapsed sooner.

“Many people set fire to government buildings or committed suicide,” the officer continued. “It was an almost daily occurrence. It still happens.”

Si-yool now understood the officer’s initial cynicism. He was likely dealing with countless people in similar situations, people who’d lost their families and couldn’t accept it. The police must have borne the brunt of the resulting unrest.

“It must have been hard during the…terror attacks,” Si-yool said carefully.

“It was,” the officer replied with a weary smile, staring into the distance, lost in thought.

Si-yool offered a sympathetic, “You’ve been through a lot.”

“It was hard to get the fire going,” the officer replied.

“Oh, you were one of them?” Si-yool realized. The officer had been one of those who set fire to government buildings. A former rioter, now a police officer.

“Being a cop is good, though,” the officer added.

“They hire criminals if they’re qualified?” Si-yool asked.

“You get to throw Molotov cocktails up close,” the officer explained.

“Wow, I didn’t see that coming,” Si-yool said, revising his assessment. The officer had been a cop and a rioter.

“When the government confiscates your salary, who cares about law and order? Burn it all down,” the officer declared.

“Too bad. You should’ve shot them too,” Si-yool said.

“I did,” the officer replied casually.

“Good job,” Si-yool commended.

He didn’t see any problem with this. Was it normal for a country to have police officers who firebombed government buildings? Well, when had South Korea ever been normal?

Besides, this officer was one of the good cops. He wasn’t abandoning citizens during emergencies, covering up crimes, or framing innocent people. He was a fighter, standing up against the government alongside the citizens.

The officer shifted the focus back to Si-yool. “So, is that enough information for you? Can we get back to business, Mr. Kim?”

“Hold on,” Si-yool interrupted. One question still lingered. “If all the records were destroyed, why are mine still here?”

“I said most of the records were gone, right?”

“Yes.”

“Yours weren’t part of ‘most’,” the officer explained.

“Damn it. So close,” Si-yool muttered. He was supposed to have been honorably discharged, not a deserter!

“It’s because your records were held by the Military Manpower Administration,” the officer continued.

This made even less sense. How could the MMA have survived the monster invasion intact?

“You mean they didn’t collapse?” Si-yool asked.

“They did, eventually. But they held out the longest, which is why their records are mostly intact,” the officer explained.

“Oh,” Si-yool said, a flicker of joy sparking within him. The hated MMA was finally gone.

“That’s good news,” he said, genuinely pleased.

“Not really,” the officer countered, his face grim. “While it might seem admirable that they held out, the reality was…ugly.”

The officer recounted tales of incompetence, corruption, and self-preservation among the military’s top brass, leading to countless unnecessary deaths. They used lower-ranking soldiers as shields, hoarded supplies, and even conscripted the elderly, the disabled, and minors.

“They even dragged critically ill patients out of hospitals, saying they would serve as ‘tactical temporary armor’,” the officer said, his voice laced with disgust.

“Wow. I guess they didn’t discriminate in that situation,” Si-yool remarked.

“Oh, they did. It was all men, again. Apparently, the higher-ups insisted,” the officer replied.

“Seriously?” Si-yool was disgusted. Even during a national crisis, the old guard clung to their misogynistic ways, sacrificing countless lives for their own political gain.

“Are those guys still alive?” Si-yool asked.

“They’re all dead. Killed by various people. It significantly lowered the average age of South Korea,” the officer replied.

At least they hadn’t gotten away with it. It was a form of… pregging, as it was called online.

“So, pregging is real,” Si-yool mused.

“No, it’s called ‘ricochet’,” the officer corrected.

“Ah, guided missile,” Si-yool said with a nod.

“No, ricochet. I’m sure of it,” the officer insisted.

“Why?”

“I shot with my eyes closed,” the officer explained.

“Ah, ricochet indeed,” Si-yool conceded. That’s what made ricochets so terrifying. Nowhere was safe. They could come from anywhere, at any time.

“So, yeah, that’s what happened. Not a pleasant story,” the officer summarized.

Si-yool’s head was spinning. Countless people had died, many needlessly. It seemed more people had died due to human greed than monster attacks.

“Not many survivors, then?”

“There are some, but the demographics took a major hit. The s*x ratio is completely skewed,” the officer explained.

A chilling thought struck Si-yool. If he hadn’t been isekai’d, he would have been among the casualties. He’d unknowingly escaped death. His otherworldly adventure, as unpleasant as it was, had saved his life.

Suddenly, he remembered something. “Why did you mention magical girls?”

The kaijin, the monsters, were from North Korea. The near-destruction of South Korea was a result of a North Korean invasion. So, why bring up magical girls?

“If the military couldn’t handle the monsters, who could?” the officer asked rhetorically.

Realization dawned on Si-yool. In most stories, ordinary humans were helpless against kaijin. So, who could possibly fight them?

“Magical girls,” he whispered.

The officer nodded. “Yes. After the military was decimated, magical girls began appearing.”

The fictional had become reality.