Chapter 104: Chapter 104

Influence, Fort Roberts (3)

On the dim morning of February 3rd, an order for training was delivered from the regimental combat team's operations section. It announced a five-day close combat training for refugee volunteers. The most outstanding among the refugee personnel were to be selected in order—and both teams from the Gyeo-ul Alliance were, of course, summoned.

To deliver this news and lead the group, Gyeo-ul visited the Alliance's first barracks early in the morning. The combat team members, having finished their meal, quickly assembled.

"Huh? Are we going to school?"

This was Hanbyeol, designated marksman of Yura's squad, asking a question born of the "Combative school" training's title. Gyeo-ul let out a small laugh and cleared up her misunderstanding.

"It's just a name. There isn't a separate school; you'll be receiving training here at Fort Roberts for five days. Things are different if you advance to a higher level, though. For advanced courses or instructor training, you go to a dedicated training center, not your unit."

"Fort Benning. It's in Georgia."

The reaction was dramatic.

"Georgia?! That's east of the quarantine line! Oh wow, I really want to go!"

The team members muttered among themselves. Gyeo-ul understood their yearning. Memories of conversations at Black Mountain surfaced. Jin-seok had once confessed his terrible fear, saying he dreamt every night about being chased and bitten by mutants. Even if the degree varied, jinseok surely wasn't the only one having restless dreams.

"Commander, when do we get that advanced training?"

Hanbyeol asked again. Gyeo-ul corrected her new misunderstanding.

"Not just anyone can take it. You need a recommendation from the unit commander."

"Really? Aw, that's disappointing..."

Hanbyeol muttered with a sigh. Still, she had a real chance of being selected for sniper training. Her marksmanship alone was impressive, even if she lagged in other areas. Miss Trigger Happy, or Trigger Witch—the US military instructors' nicknames for her.

But Gyeo-ul didn't mention any of this. There was no need to get her hopes up over something uncertain. The US military might also be hesitant to send refugee-origin soldiers beyond the quarantine line.

'The White House even worried about me deserting.'

That was from a story in the journal when Gyeo-ul received the Medal of Honor. If a snowy stroll in Washington, DC had been possible, he might have reconsidered keeping that journal.

"Let's move. Arriving right on the dot doesn't look so great."

Jin-seok and Yura lined up their squads. Still, the neat lines scattered a bit as soon as they stepped out of the barracks—thanks to the cold and fierce wind and rain. The weather was uncomfortable, even with rain gear.

Hurricane Carissa had passed, but Damaris, the fourth typhoon of the year, still lingered over California.

The indoor gym, where training would take place, was on the western edge of the base. The only restaurant on base, 'Guardians of California', was in the same block, but it had been closed for some time.

"You're usually staying over there, right, commander?"

As they walked, Yura asked, pointing towards the officers' quarters. From the gym, it was diagonally northwest, passing the Camp Roberts History Museum and a few houses—about four hundred meters on foot. Today, a water mist obscured the view.

"Hmm, I'd like to visit sometime. I'm kind of curious how you usually live."

A brief pause for calculation, then Gyeo-ul nodded.

"You can come. It'll be tough today, but after tomorrow's schedule, come take a look before heading back."

"Huh?... No, never mind. That was silly of me, haha."

Yura covered the awkwardness with laughter. Was she worried about being misunderstood? Gyeo-ul didn't press further.

Even though they arrived with time to spare, the indoor gym was already crowded with other refugee volunteers of various nationalities who had arrived first. The mood wasn't good. Each splinter group seemed to share mutual hostility. The Southeast Asian volunteers, overwhelmed by their Chinese and Japanese counterparts, appeared united out of necessity.

They surely didn't genuinely get along either.

Still, they welcomed Gyeo-ul's arrival. One man hurried over and gave a sharp salute. When Gyeo-ul returned it, the man bowed his head and brought his arms together.

"First lieutenant, please take care of us again today."

Gyeo-ul vaguely remembered seeing this man when distributing construction materials—possibly Vietnamese—but didn't know him well enough for a formal greeting. Still, the reason was clear. Gyeo-ul responded appropriately.

"I'm not in charge of today's training. How have you been?"

"Of course! Thanks to you, first Lieutenant Han. After you brought in the American police and cleaned house, the tàu khựa, I mean, the Chinks, stopped already with the bullying."

Despite his fluent English, he slipped into a native-language slur when referring to the Chinese—and even corrected himself to yet another slur in English. It must have been habit by now.

He corrected himself out of concern that Gyeo-ul wouldn't understand, but even without any "Vietnamese" modifiers, Gyeo-ul understood that particular curse perfectly.

'No matter the world, the first things you learn in a new language are always swears and slurs.'

In such a mixed world of nationalities, it was no different from the living world.

"Your name... it's Tuan, right?"

Reading the man's name tag, Gyeo-ul asked, and he introduced himself again.

"Yes, that's correct. Nguyen Van Tuan."

"Hm. How many came here with you?"

"Ah, if you mean Vietnamese, I'm the only one."

Tuan's smiling face faltered for a moment, as if to say, "Why do you care?"

Was this a long-held sense of being wronged? Gyeo-ul pretended not to notice and pressed on.

"Are there any others among your people who can speak English?"

"Excuse me?... Not as well as me, but about a dozen or more. Everyone's got an ear for it, and we're working hard on speaking and writing. But if I can ask, why do you want to know...?"

"I need to. If I have to look for you in the Vietnamese zone, how would I do it?"

"The area's small, and all us Vietnamese know each other's faces and names. If you come and ask for me, anyone will know."

"I see. Thank you for your answer. I'll visit soon. Or else I'll send someone."

Tuan looked confused, but Gyeo-ul didn't explain about the letter of recommendation. There was no need to talk recklessly. And it was valuable to let people create small, harmless misconceptions depending on how they heard things. At the very least, it looked like he could balance the national makeup nicely.

Now Gyeo-ul scanned the room. As expected, there were most Chinese. The Triad group and Li Ai-ring were also in attendance. She noticed Gyeo-ul but pretended not to.

'At least I won't need to meet her separately.'

Gyeo-ul, who had planned to visit Lichingen later, thought this was convenient.

Among the Japanese, the yakuza boss who insisted on being called a nationalist, tadaatsu Ryohei, stood out. He was already watching before Gyeo-ul could catch his gaze. Gyeo-ul nodded first, and Ryohei responded with a flick of his hand.

Every one of the Japanese Ryohei led was muscular to a bizarre degree—bodies impossible without proper nutrition.

As the hour approached, the instructors went around having the soldiers take their seats. One instructor approached Gyeo-ul.

"We knew that the Korean leader would be First Lieutenant Han, but are you observing the training too?"

"I thought it wouldn't be bad to watch. More importantly, I could probably use this training too, don't you think? I may be a first lieutenant, but I've never been through proper training—you know, even my officer education was crash-course."

He'd said this before. The corporal, today's instructor, chuckled.

"You joke well. The one who took out five ghouls in close combat, wanting to attend basic close combat class? I almost lost it watching that video."

He was referring to the fight in Santa Maria. Footage of that battle was rebroadcast on TV like popular drama reruns.

"Even so. Qualifications matter, right?"

"Qualifications? You don't need to worry about that. The curriculum's been totally revised. What's the use of old battle methods? One bite and you're done. Even we only got the new manual a week ago. Being level IV meant nothing now. I figure it'll keep changing too."

"Anyway, watch as much as you want, rest as much as you want. If you need anything, just call."

The corporal grinned like a co-conspirator. Apparently he believed the boy officer was using this as an excuse to shirk his duties. Gyeo-ul didn't bother to deny it.

"Thank you. Do your best, carver."

The corporal turned to deal with the noisy soldiers.

There were seven instructors in the gym. The rule was, one instructor for every twenty students in close combat class. It helped efficiency, but the real reason was to prevent accidents. With seven instructors, they were just barely complying with the rules.

But Gyeo-ul thought the command might be underestimating things a bit.

More would be needed.

To run martial arts drills with this sort of international mashup, this many instructors weren't enough. There would be one per platoon, at least. They could easily send more. He would have to raise it officially.

'Today, nothing special should happen, at least.'

Gyeo-ul's judgment was as heavy as live ammunition. If no one else, Gyeo-ul, was always armed.

And anyone causing trouble here would lose a lot. The odds of actual fighting breaking out during training were low. The real question was whether they'd be able to control things if something did go wrong. After all, the military was meant to prepare for the worst.

"Quiet! Training starts now!"

The sturdiest instructor shouted with power—he also held the highest rank of the group.

The opening was formal. With a projector on, the instructor briefly outlined the history of martial arts—a set procedure. Oddly, it was the Chinese recruits who were particularly disrespectful, blatantly ignoring or even plugging their ears. Even the interpreters for non-English speakers were slacking off.

Ai-ring sat up perfectly straight, though her expression was sour.

On the other hand, the Japanese nodded, sometimes making appreciative sounds for all to hear.

That was because the instructor's lecture on martial arts history was centered on Japanese styles. So the instructors didn't point out the attitude of the Chinese volunteers, but simply sped through the lecture.

"... There were attempts to introduce Japanese martial arts into training as far back as the interwar period. Back then, Captain Alan Smith, an instructor at the infantry school, went to Japan's Kodokan to learn judo. President Roosevelt also learned judo himself—he even set up a training room right in the White House."

The main point: the US military's close-quarter combat system was greatly influenced by judo.

The original presentation was supposed to last thirty minutes, but the instructor cut it to ten and moved on quickly.

'He must have known it wasn't working.'

Gyeo-ul sensed the lead sergeant instructor suppressing a sigh.

"Whether your opponent is human or half-rotten, the most important principle of close combat never changes. What is that principle?"

The instructor swept the room and answered his own question.

"It's simple. Using a gun, by any means necessary, is always best."

The reaction was flat, but the instructor held firm.

"I'm not joking. If firearms can be employed in close combat, you shouldn't bother considering any other means. It's pointless bravado. Forget all the talk about martial arts and judo. No matter how great the techniques, the best scenario is you never need to use them—especially against mutant infectees."

The realism of his words produced a slightly better response. Thanks to their time in San Miguel, the Gyeo-ul Alliance's combat teams would find this especially resonant.

"From now on, you'll learn methods of using firearms in close combat. Remember, the simplest solution is the most effective."

The instructor clapped his hands. Nᴇw novel chapters are publɪshed on N0v3l.Fiɾe.net

"Everyone stand! Pair up—groups of two. If you're left alone, report to a nearby instructor. Anyone leftover will either pair up with each other or assist the instructor with demonstrations. Begin!"

Noise instantly filled the room again.

-------------------------= Afterword -------------------------=

Q. hobakhobak: @As expected, you don't know love because you kept your childlike innocence.

A. You think I don't know love? They sell it at the convenience store—four cans for ten thousand won. Paulaner, krombacher, tsingtao, pilsner Urquell, guinness, and more—there's plenty of love in this world.

Q. NameThief: @I'm curious: roughly how old is Gyeo-ul? Also, from an author's perspective, is there a part of the work that shows Gyeo-ul's character flaws? Lastly, since Gyeo-ul experienced a troubled family and trauma, but comes across as unrealistically mature, is there a special reason for this behavior?

A. Gyeo-ul was 17 when admitted to Afterlife Insurance. In the 27th-run world, he is also 17. This was a deliberate choice, to show that once he lost his body, his emotional 'clock' stopped.

Gyeo-ul doesn't know exactly what he wants and does have internal contradictions, but they're not really character flaws. But does there have to be a flaw? As a character inspired by the Little Prince, I didn't plan any character flaws from the start.

Pain makes people mature. Do you know "Unanswered Questions: The Shin-ae Episode"? It influenced me greatly while planning this work, as did some personal experience.

It was about a 9-year-old girl who fell ill, but her parents refused surgery for religious reasons. Her words were unforgettable: so logical and mature for her age.

"It's time for me to go to school now. I should be learning and playing at this age, being happy here. What's the point of being happy in Heaven?"

So, there's no other reason. Gyeo-ul's life experience is the reason.

Q. haegol: @How many volumes do you think the whole work will be? I saved it all up and read it at once, but now I feel empty after catching up.

A. I'm not good at estimating episode/content. It will definitely go beyond 200 episodes, probably beyond 300, but I'm not sure about 400.

Q. Misoyuhee: @I've read probably dozens of times more books than most people in my life (though most are novels), but I've never come across a work that's so exciting, heart-pounding, and relatable. I binge-read the whole thing in a day and a few hours; now my eyes feel totally worn out, haha. I still want to read more, though. T_T

A. Thank you. Since you're excited by this story, you must be one of the child-at-heart beings. Earth is a beautiful planet.

Q. Jangbaek Geosa: @Even Cthulhu learns innocence... How close are you with the blind father?!

A. He's lying next to me dozing foolishly right now.

Q. thecrazy: @Are there no refugees from countries other than China and Japan? It seems like only those countries are mentioned because there are so many, but what about others?

A. At Fort Roberts, very few refugees are from other nationalities besides China, Korea, and Japan. Other camps have some Russian refugees, etc. West European refugees come via the Atlantic route.