The Archmage’s Destruction Strategy - Chapter 138

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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#138. Capitalism

After the departure ceremony concluded, Sung-jun and the Western Defense Force began their arduous journey spanning approximately 2,200 kilometers, traversing Missouri and Illinois before cutting across Indiana, Ohio, and Pennsylvania to enter New York.
Considering Atlas’s speed of roughly 300 kilometers per day, this distance would take over a week even without combat encounters.
Having already consumed a week refitting Atlas and Hive Hornet, Sung-jun moved with tireless determination once the genuine march commenced, his footsteps never ceasing as he navigated the colossal frame of the Atlas he commanded.

“Not a soul in sight, let alone enemies. I thought that having come this far, we might encounter at least some remnants of the Eastern Regional Defense Forces, but….”

General MacFarlane, who had detected neither humans nor even a shadow of enemies over the past two days, muttered while gazing across the endless plains stretching before him.
At that moment, Sung-jun’s phantom standing beside General MacFarlane posed a question to the general.

“Do you have no information regarding the Eastern Regional Defense Forces’ situation?”
“None whatsoever. When D-day struck, the military’s internal emergency communication network was completely severed, leaving the already undermanned Western Defense Force in total isolation.”
“What was the state of the Eastern Regional Defense Forces before D-day?”
“With two-thirds of the population concentrated in the east and all major metropolitan centers located there, the eastern forces possessed superior numbers of mutants and better equipment. But the most significant difference lay in the sheer quantity of private soldiers concentrated in the east.”
“Private soldiers?”
“The United States is a capitalist nation. When Pioneers emerged and warnings spread about interdimensional invaders visiting Earth, certain tycoons lobbied the government and obtained permission to cultivate private military forces in preparation for catastrophic events.
They invested enormous fortunes constructing mega-scale shelters and hired mutants—who would normally serve as government military personnel—as private soldiers instead. It was a powerful expression of their determination to survive, no matter if the world itself perished.”
“The U.S. Government permitted such actions?”
“I repeat: the United States is a capitalist nation. Here, money can accomplish anything. Purchasing superhumans cultivated by the state to form private armies, constructing massive underground bunkers to house such employed soldiers—the government actually encouraged such tycoons’ behavior.”

Naturally, arming soldiers requires national tax revenue, while cultivating private soldiers consumes the employer’s personal assets.
The government had no reason to stop those willing to spend their own money protecting themselves rather than relying on taxpayer-funded defense. Thus, the U.S. Government began actively promoting private soldier cultivation by selling Awakened-specific weapons developed for military use to select tycoons at premium prices.

“It’s more efficient for multiple tycoons to pool resources and construct a single shelter than for one individual to build all facilities alone. Rather than one person employing 100 private soldiers to guard one shelter, having ten people each employ 100 soldiers to protect a single shelter results in 1,000 soldiers defending that one facility. For this reason, multiple mega-scale shelters called ‘Consortiums’ were constructed throughout the Eastern United States.”

The information about the Consortiums that the general provided left even Sung-jun speechless.
The world’s wealthiest tycoons had constructed underground facilities so fortified that bunker-busters couldn’t penetrate them, established perfect self-sufficient systems within, and cultivated defensive forces composed solely of the most powerful Awakened among U.S. Military personnel to guard these shelters—hearing this, Sung-jun shook his head in disbelief.

“Having experienced D-day yourself, you understand that Corrosion Entities cannot be stopped by merely a few thousand private soldiers. A grave miscalculation by the American government.”
“Certainly, some politicians opposed it, but the majority supported the Consortium support bill. Beyond the lobbying itself, they received authority to occupy Consortium facilities in case of disaster—a valuable concession indeed.”

After brief contemplation, Sung-jun inquired whether the Awakened forces defending the Consortiums might be requisitioned for the reclamation of the Eastern Region.
The general shook his head, stating that matters would not proceed as Sung-jun envisioned.

“If that were possible, I would have informed you about the Consortium when we were planning the Eastern Region reclamation operation. The reason I didn’t mention the Consortium to Sung-jun was because I judged it nearly impossible to bring them into our forces, even if the Consortium still exists and operates smoothly.”
“Why is that?”
“The biggest reason is that we don’t know the exact location of the remaining Consortium. In a disaster situation like this, a Consortium with massive stockpiles becomes the primary target for looting. That’s why most Underground Shelters have multiple decoy entrances. Moreover, they have traps installed, so if you enter through the wrong entrance, even a Mutant won’t escape unscathed.”
“Are there other reasons?”
“To begin with, the Mutants employed by the Consortium became soldiers in exchange for residential rights in the Consortium. Even with the Surface in this state, the humans inside the Consortium are living lives of abundance just like before D-day, so there’s no reason for them to risk their lives fighting.”
“But ultimately, if we eliminate the Apocalypse-grade Corrosion Entity that appeared in the Eastern Region and succeed in reclaiming the American Continent, wouldn’t they also benefit? In fact, wouldn’t they be the greatest beneficiaries? According to your words, that Underground Shelter called the Consortium must be storing enormous supplies that are difficult to obtain now.”

The bear does the tricks while the man pockets the money—Sung-jun found himself displeased with the existence of the survivor Community known as the Consortium.
In a crisis like this, while others fought for their lives on the Surface, someone was holed up underground waiting for the disaster to end. It was only natural that this fact felt repugnant to him.
Sung-jun immediately expanded the range of his detection spell, which he was operating in real-time to detect approaching enemies, downward into the Underground.
Then he summoned Barden and instructed him to create new equipment.

“This is a magical formation that detects all lifeforms within a 100-kilometer radius underground the moment it’s planted in the ground. Instruct the flying Golems operating for reconnaissance to drop detection equipment inscribed with this magical formation at regular intervals onto the Surface.”

Barden, startled by Sung-jun’s sudden instruction, asked him a question.

“Underground? Are you thinking the enemies might approach through the Underground?”
“No, this equipment isn’t for finding enemies. It’s for finding those cowards burrowing underground like moles.”

As Sung-jun spoke, he handed over the magical formation and muttered to himself.

‘Just let me catch one. Let’s see what happens.’

***

Fortunately, Sung-jun managed to locate the Consortium facility hidden underground with his newly created equipment in just a single day.
The detection spell, designed to find lifeforms of sufficient intensity, discovered 2,800 humans hiding 60 meters beneath the ground.
Sung-jun immediately altered Atlas’s course toward the center of the shelter, and while riding Atlas, he bent at the waist and brought the massive palm down to the ground.
Then he activated magic to discern the detailed structure of the colossal facility buried underground.

‘This is incredible.’

The scale of the Consortium that Sung-jun detected through magic far exceeded what General MacFarlane had described.
From movie theaters to restaurants, gyms, and playgrounds.
As I explored the interior of this colossal facility spanning thousands of meters underground using my magical senses, I quickly discovered something fascinating.
There was a hierarchy within the Consortium itself.
The movements of survivors active inside the Consortium revealed strict divisions.
Humans laboring ceaselessly at something in what appeared to be work spaces.
And humans who didn’t work at all, leisurely resting in the numerous recreational areas provided within the facility.
Finally, humans patrolling throughout the facility while emanating the distinctive powerful aura unique to Awakened individuals.
It seemed these conglomerate elites had no desire to do menial work, even while taking refuge in an underground shelter.

‘Unbelievable. Truly unbelievable.’

The last thing I examined was a warehouse storing an enormous quantity of supplies.
Gazing upon the warehouse—filled with enough food to sustain tens of thousands for years, along with artwork and precious metals—I smiled bitterly.
Then I relocated Atlas to a position above an area with few people.

“That place is….”

General MacFarlane, dimly grasping my intention, asked me a question, and I flashed him a grin.
Then I raised Atlas’s massive arm high into the sky and shouted.

“Welcome your guests!!!!”

The ceiling of the Consortium—which supposedly wouldn’t collapse even if a nuclear warhead detonated directly overhead—came crashing down with a tremendous roar, and before Atlas’s fist, which had struck the ground, a massive crater resembling an open-pit mine appeared.
Inside it, the Consortium’s “enlisted soldiers” who had rushed over in shock were screaming at Atlas, each wielding their weapons.

“What the hell!?”
“A Corrosion Entity?! No!? It’s too massive!? And that’s steel, isn’t it!?”
“This is insane!? What is that!? Why is an aircraft carrier floating in the sky!?”

For the Consortium’s residents who had been waiting underground for all of this to end, it was nothing short of catastrophe.
Even the designers of the Consortium—built to withstand enemies capable of annihilating humanity itself—had never considered the scenario of a 60-meter-tall steel giant breaching the ceiling and invading.
Having thus pierced a massive hole through the ceiling of this ultra-premium shelter constructed to prepare for humanity’s apocalypse, I lowered Atlas’s enormous head toward the security guards glaring at me and spoke.

“Bring out whoever’s in charge here.”

It was the voice of catastrophe, mercilessly shattering the hopes of the Consortium’s residents who had believed that even if humanity perished, they alone would remain safe.

***

“I am Alexander Crawford, leader of the Survivor Consortium ‘Elysium.’ I demand an explanation for why you’ve arbitrarily destroyed the residences of victims sheltering from humanity’s extinction and unlawfully trespassed upon private land.”

The middle-aged man who introduced himself as the Consortium’s leader spoke while glaring at the magical phantom that Sung-jun had summoned.
Rudely, he had brought only a single chair to the plaza where the negotiations were taking place and sat in it.
Sung-jun responded with a scornful smile, then snapped his fingers to summon a phantom chair made of mana and sat upon it.
Of course, Sung-jun’s avatar—a phantom constructed from mana—had no real need to sit, but being drawn into the other man’s game left a bitter taste in his mouth.
As Sung-jun summoned the chair and sat, Crawford’s mouth began to twitch involuntarily.

‘I did provoke him first, but this….’

Crawford’s frustration was understandable.
The chair Sung-jun had conjured through magic was far larger and more ornate than the one Crawford had prepared—a veritable “executive’s throne.”
With golden dragon-shaped ornaments adorning the armrests, Sung-jun’s chair resembled a royal throne far more than a simple seat.
Sung-jun reclined against the magnificent chair as though he were the master of this very place, one leg crossed, regarding Crawford with an air of absolute dominance.

“So, you’re the administrator of this shelter?”
“Indeed. Though I have yet to receive an answer to my question….”
“Whether I answer your question is my decision. Not yours.”

Witnessing Sung-jun’s openly hostile demeanor, a man standing behind Crawford stepped forward.
The man, dressed in a manner that screamed “special forces operative,” maintained an unwavering, steely gaze despite standing before the colossal steel giant—sixty meters in height—that had shattered through the shelter’s ceiling.

“Perhaps you should mind your manners. Unless you wish to die here.”

His voice carried the unmistakable composure of a true powerhouse—one whose absolute confidence in his own strength was palpable.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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