Guest Ch 17

West Fort Owner, Blue Hawk (8)

The place I arrived at with Lee Yiseon was a three-story townhouse. It was the most secluded building among four small villas. Unlike the other buildings with broken windows and stone dust drifting in the air, this one had red bricks newly repaired and security bars installed, giving off a sense of people actually living there.

“Second floor.”

Lee Yiseon had me go ahead. The second floor, which I climbed first, had two doors. I stood in front of the one without dust on the handle. I glanced at Lee Yiseon, asking with my eyes if I should knock. He, seeing that I had correctly stopped in front of the right door out of the two, spoke.

“That’s the one. The bell doesn’t work because the battery’s dead, so knock.”

Knock, knock.

As soon as I knocked on the iron door, a voice came from inside.

“Come in!”

Ah, so this is where the Doctor lives.

I hadn’t even had time to feel relieved that this place felt far more humane compared to Lee Yiseon’s, who lived on a rooftop.

“Huh?”

As soon as the door opened, the smell of ink hit me. It was a scent I had only encountered in school libraries. A smell I never cared about suddenly felt so welcoming.

Paper! In a world where I thought paper only existed to be used as kindling, it was still fulfilling its purpose!

“What’s so fascinating?”

Lee Yiseon, reading my expression, asked with a flat tone. Since he didn’t take off his shoes and walked inside, I followed him, stepping in with my sneakers still on, and answered.

“You always talk like you’re too busy surviving to study, so I got confused.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re always going on about survival, so I thought you weren’t interested in things like this at all.”

“Did it never occur to you that this is research needed for survival?”

“Huh?”

“I don’t have the leisure to read novels or anything. Everything here is research material related to the changes in this world.”

How dare you dismiss novels like that? I survived by reading novels when life got too hard, when I wanted to give up on everything.

I swallowed those words. This cold, humorless guy would again think that I didn’t belong in this world. I stared back at him, my expression turning sour as his eyes silently scolded me for not being serious enough. Our quiet standoff was interrupted by the Doctor.

“Captain, Prophet, over here.”

At the Doctor’s call, Lee Yiseon approached first. I followed him, taking in the sight of the house.

What had once been a regular three-bedroom house had been converted into an office. Bookshelves lined every wall, filled with books of all sorts.

In a world where novels were considered a luxury, it seemed that these printed words were being carefully preserved. It didn’t feel like the usual stockpile of survival knowledge. The poems written on postcards, photographs, and small notes created an atmosphere quite different from what Lee Yiseon had described.

“You seem fascinated. Want to look around some more?”

That sociable, gentle tone of voice once again tugged at my heart.

Doctor, you’re such a kind person. I can’t believe I’m receiving this sort of kindness from him, something I never felt with Lee Yiseon.

“Can I take a book out?”

“Of course. Feel free to look through everything.”

“Thank you.”

I pulled out a bright red photo album that stood out in the middle of the bookshelf. It was a scrapbook of photos taken around various locations in Seoul.

A close-up shot of the inside of a sinkhole.

A snapshot of a collapsing building site.

Each photo was numbered. As I looked through them in order, it seemed like the photos were taken chronologically, documenting the state of certain areas.

“Captain, what’s gotten into you? You said you’d spend the day with Prophet, yet here we are.”

I glanced at the Doctor and Lee Yiseon as they talked about me. Lee Yiseon was sitting on the edge of a table, flipping through some mysterious papers.

“I thought it would be better to show him directly. By the way, where are Black Foot and Toya?”

“They both went to guard the wall. They’ve been taking shifts without sleep lately.”

After thinking about something for a moment, Lee Yiseon turned his gaze toward me. I couldn’t avoid the moment our eyes met. His gaze wasn’t exactly friendly. I stiffened without realizing it.

“Come here.”

I have gotten used to being treated like a well-behaved puppy. I slid the photo album back into place on the shelf and walked over to the table.

Sssshk.

Lee Yiseon showed me the paper he had been looking at. It turned out to be an enlarged map of Yeongdeungpo and Dongjak districts. It was a tactical map with detailed markings of key structures like the wall, sewage systems, and food storage facilities.

“Here, here, and here.”

He pointed to three locations along the Dorimcheon area , which bordered Guro district.

“These are places where we couldn’t build the steel wall, so we had to stack sandbags and bricks to create retaining walls.”

Why was he telling me about the weak points of the fortress?

I blinked in confusion, and Lee Yiseon added more.

“The surrounding grass and trees are thick, making it easy to hide. If the Wild Dogs are determined to break into the fortress, this is the most likely weak spot they’ll target.”

“I see.”

“What would you do?”

“Huh?”

“If it were you, what would you do?”

After a long pause, I pointed a finger at myself.

“You’re asking me for my opinion on the defense of the fortress?”

Lee Yiseon didn’t even reply. He was just staring at my face.

Is he seriously asking me?

I shot a bewildered look at the Doctor. He was also waiting for my answer. Apparently, I was the only one who found this situation ridiculous.

Why are they asking me about defense tactics? I’ve only heard about the Wild Dogs; I’ve never seen them in person, so I have no idea what to say.

There could only be one reason for this absurd question. It was likely pressure to come up with a plausible solution befitting the title of a Prophet.

Should I at least recite the strategies I have picked up from reading Romance of the Three Kingdoms^[1] or The Art of War^[2]? Foresight, my foot. Even cheat codes in games wouldn’t let you get by so easily..

“The reason the Wild Dogs are attacking the fortress is because of me, right?”

“That’s right.”

“They want to take me and use my foresight to their advantage, so they’re launching frequent attacks.”

“Exactly.”

“Then, isn’t that a disadvantage for them? I don’t have any foresight abilities right now. Even if they manage to take me, I would be useless to them, so it would just be a waste of their resources.”

Even if the Wild Dogs took me now, they would just have another mouth to feed. I started to worry more about what would happen if they got so angry at my uselessness that they would try to kill me.

I’m the type of person who would put money into low-yield funds with the mindset of investing in future value, but not everyone thinks the same way as I do. To those who prioritize present value, am I just fueling their anger by not being able to guarantee interest rates?

“How about negotiating with the Wild Dogs to stop their attacks on the fortress? When I eventually gain foresight ability, I could share my information with them. That way, we could avoid wasting resources on both sides.”

At my suggestion, the Doctor spoke pompously.

“Maybe it’s because you haven’t awakened your ability yet, but you really don’t know anything. You’re kind of cute.”

The Doctor was much easier to communicate with than Lee Yiseon. While Lee Yiseon would frown and clam up, the Doctor was someone who expressed his thoughts clearly.

“Foresight isn’t about seeing the future you want. It’s more like a senior citizen suddenly collapsing on you^[3].”

Ah, so it’s not about seeing the future I choose; it’s random.

“No one can guarantee whether you will be able to provide enough foresight that will satisfy both the Wild Dogs and us at West Fort. Sharing it with hostile groups would be a loss for us, wouldn’t it?”

So, they want to monopolize foresight. Wait, why are they so intent on monopolizing it?

I tilted my head and asked.

“Wouldn’t it be better if everyone could be safe and happy by sharing foresight?”

“That’s impossible.”

“Why?”

“All the Prophets so far could only apply their foresight within the scope of their own experiences.”

I blinked, not quite understanding. The Doctor kindly explained further.

“For example, a photographer would see the future through photographs, and a novelist through stories. Prophets can only foresee within the range of what they’ve personally seen and heard. They can’t predict a massive event that would affect all of humanity. For instance, a Prophet in Korea wouldn’t be able to foresee the collapse of the Tibetan Plateau if they’ve never been to Central Asia.”

So foresight could become something trivial, small, and perhaps like an old man that I must protect, even if it means competing with others. Sharing it with others might be pointless, as it could be useless to someone and end up being more of a hassle..

I understood why they wanted to monopolize foresight, and I nodded. Then, I asked a fundamental question.

“I’m just a normal college student. I have only experienced what everyone else does. How could I possibly foresee anything? I don’t know how to take pictures, and I can’t write novels.”

At that, the Doctor pulled a thick notebook from the shelf. It was covered in Post-it notes, as if it had been used for a long time.

“You can start figuring out how you’ll foresee things from now.”

He opened the notebook. Inside were various photos, mostly of people smiling warmly at the camera. Below each photo was a brief profile and notes that the Doctor had written himself.

“These are the Prophets we’ve managed at West Fort.”

The Doctor tapped the number at the top of the profiles with his finger.

“So far, there have been 98 officially recorded Prophets. We’ve managed 41 of them here. You’re the 99th Prophet, and you’re our 42nd. The remaining 47 were managed at the North Fort, Eastern Fort, or by the Wild Dogs.”

Less than 100 Prophets in the last six years? That’s a small number. No wonder there’s been a battle over them.

As I grasped the significance of the numbers surrounding the Prophets, I realized something else.

“West Fort has had 42 of the 99 Prophets. You’ve almost monopolized them.”

“We’ve been lucky.”

I carefully examined the faces of the people in the photos. They were as diverse in age as their professions. For each person, there were notes on the number of times they had foreseen something, ranging from ten times to fewer. They stayed in this world for as short as a week to as long as a year before disappearing.

“You can take this and read it. It might give you a better sense of things.”

The Doctor pulled out a few more notebooks. They were records of facility expansions and preparations for natural disasters, all based on the Prophets’ foresight. He placed the heavy notebooks in my bag, and I didn’t refuse. As the weight of the bag settled on my shoulders, Lee Yiseon finally spoke.

“So, what will you do about the fortress defense?”

I wasn’t the only one frowning at the unresolved question. The Doctor steps in, delivering a sharp rebuke in my place.

“Stop it, Captain. Pressing someone who knows nothing won’t get you answers. Once we’re sure about what his foresight really is, it won’t be too late to ask about everything else. We can save a hundred questions for then.”

Doctor, you were the worst, seriously.

I was left wondering if all the other Prophets were treated this way too.

Click.

A sudden camera shutter sound startled me, and I turned toward the sound. At the same time, the shutter clicked again.

Click.

The two consecutive shutter sounds came from the film camera in the Doctor’s hands. A film camera, something I had almost never seen before. The Doctor spoke in a light tone.

“I’ll give it to you once I develop the photo.”

They’ll probably paste that photo on the last page of this notebook, along with the title, The 99th Prophet.

If you think about it negatively, it’s no different from tagging a lab rat for record-keeping, but after everything I’ve been through here has helped me think differently.

I felt sorry for the people of this world who viewed me as some kind of savior. Honestly… I just… I wish someone better suited than me had taken this role. Maybe then they would be more satisfied with their Prophet.

I made a heart shape with my fingers. As I bowed my head slightly and smiled, the Doctor pressed the shutter one more time.

Click.

If this were the world I used to live in, I would be taking photos like this with my friends at the beach. As someone whose identity was more firmly rooted in being ‘Woo Hyunho’ rather than ‘Prophet’, I could only swallow a bitter smile.