00039 --- #Journal %26 #Inner Chamber ---
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#Journal, page 62, Camp Roberts
The morning after returning from Santa Maria, I could see myself on every TV channel. The consistent subtitles made me uneasy. 'The Miracle of Santa Maria', they declared. The media, thirsty for patriotic reporting, showered me with all sorts of positive comments. A spokesperson from the Department of Defense also appeared, emphasizing my American citizenship and announced they were considering a reward befitting my heroic acts.
I was relieved that the media seemed to be taking a more favorable stance on the refugee issue.
Lieutenant Capston took this matter seriously.
"Lieutenant Gyeo-ul. I know you're exceptional. But this time, you went too far. How could you think of running alone into the middle of the battlefield? If you die, what about the people who rely on you?"
I explained it was to save lives, but he wasn't convinced.
"A noble mindset. But try to think rationally. You have a talent the world needs. You need to live a long time so that more people can survive because of you. Those you can't save now, to put it bluntly, are few in number."
I said that there is no one unremarkable in the world. One person not saved now cannot be replaced by others who can be saved later. The lieutenant shifted to another point.
"Do you feel a responsibility towards the refugees? Do you think your actions will result in better treatment for the rest of the refugees? Is that why you're taking these risks?"
He was always someone I appreciated. I promised to be more careful next time before he reluctantly let me go.
On the way to the refugee zone, I met Captain Markert. When I saluted, he returned it with a bitter expression. He was coming from the Chinese settlement. It was puzzling what a racist was doing there.
A crowd was gathered in the central square of the settlement. It turned out they were watching a broadcast. A large tent with open sides had been set up, and a white screen hung underneath. The brightness from the projector was clear, thanks to the dreary winter weather.
Military and police patrols are frequent in the central square. It was easy to find familiar soldiers. When I asked what was going on, they said it was a directive from the Department of Defense's public relations office. He looked at me with curiosity, asking if that was really me. I confirmed it, and he was pleased. He won a bet, apparently.
... A bet?
After he left, I watched the screen from afar. The objectified view of myself felt foreign. On screen, someone who seemed like a different person was engaged in a fierce struggle with five infected mutants. As the mutants' teeth neared with a 'chomp chomp chomp', refugees of all nationalities held their breath. With each one dealt with, layers of deep gasps of amazement, unable to be contained, were added. Listening to it made my face feel hot. It was more embarrassing than pride-inducing. All I could think was, why was the resolution of military drones so high?
I had hoped to leave before anyone noticed, but one person had already turned to look. Starting with him, a number began murmuring. The outright hostility had decreased compared to before. Instead, there were more eyes filled with intimidation or fear. There were also desires and greed, and at times, glimpses of reverence.
Facing the swelling emotions, I wanted to retreat. I tried to act natural. I hoped it didn't look like I was fleeing.
#Journal, page 63, Camp Roberts
The 「Gyeo-ul Alliance」 became quieter than before. Specifically, when I was present.
The video that was released seemed to have been quite shocking. The way people looked at me wasn't the same as before. More found it difficult to approach me, and flattery increased as well. Even Park Jin-seok was no exception. The only ones who remained unchanged were Yura and Manager Min-wan Ki. Manager Min simply smiled, saying he was impressed.
In any case, what's certain is that no one dismisses me for being young anymore.
Despite the changed atmosphere being inconvenient, I would have to endure it. Hoping it would gradually improve.
#Inner Chamber (1), Camp Roberts
In this world, there was a certain cycle to the apocalypse. Just as ice ages and interglacial periods repeated, after experiencing a rough event, a quiet time would follow. It seemed like a chance to savor the atmosphere of a world ending. Of course, it was also a time to prepare for the next stage.
Gyeo-ul determined that it was currently an interglacial period. It was time to prepare for when the wheels of the apocalypse began rolling again. At this opportunity, it was necessary to reinforce inner capacity and concretize the 「Gyeo-ul Alliance」's combat power.
Thus, approval was obtained from the operations officer for the training plan. Given that Gyeo-ul's direct superior was the battalion commander, it was a matter of course. The operations officer requested the submission of a plan but wasn't stringent. On the contrary, he showed considerable consideration. He issued training uniforms and combat rations, and even granted permission to use US military facilities for showers and meals. The miracle of Santa Maria appeared to have made quite an impression on him as well.
Gyeo-ul invested the experiential resources acquired from Santa Maria into 「Instruction」.
Having deemed leadership essential, much had been learned in the past. "Talent Gains" played a significant role, meaning the burden was minimal. Nonetheless, the boundary between levels 10 and 11 was perplexing. He wanted to reserve capacity to maximize the enhancement of combat skills.
The lengthy deliberation came to an end upon seeing Yura. Upon hearing the decision to start training, she displayed remarkable enthusiasm accompanied by considerable tension. As she walked, her right foot and right hand moved in tandem. After nodding, Gyeo-ul raised 「Instruction」 to level 11.
Three times the number of combat personnel were selected preliminarily. The intention was to exclude unqualified individuals as training progressed. The gender ratio was evenly matched.
Apart from the most special entity in the setting, the player, the rest of the characters fall within the bounds of common sense. Training began with physical training (PT).
"Isn't this too much from the start?"
"No, it isn't."
Gyeo-ul's light response. She glanced at Gyeo-ul resentfully, then lowered her head. Her words were incoherent due to panting. The 2-mile (3.2km) run was likely her first experience. Frustrated, she threw off the vest she wore, a mix of orange and yellow. Thick beads of sweat rolled down her jawline.
Nevertheless, Yura was in relatively good shape. Several individuals vomited from here and there. The rest collapsed, unable to move due to their pride or whatever.
The preliminary combat personnel selected by Gyeo-ul were not of top quality from the start.
The 3rd-company Sergeant Pierce, offering training advice, found Gyeo-ul's orders to be reasonable. Additionally, he seemed slightly surprised by the stamina of the boy who received technological compensation.
Being in charge didn't mean he stood idly by. Running alongside, Gyeo-ul overtook the lead and completed an extra lap around the parade ground. Seeing this, the sergeant laughingly completed an extra lap himself.
Despite this, there was no combat squad member who finished earlier than the two men.
"You are indeed extraordinary, young second Lieutenant."
"Sergeant, you're incredible for your age."
Sergeant Pierce burst into laughter again. His expression suggested he was intrigued.
Gyeo-ul checked viewer messages. Considering the broadcast, he should have opted for auto-progress, but then the effects of 「Instruction」 wouldn't have been visible. The manual process was unavoidable, yet the reaction was unexpectedly positive.
Men appreciated anything involving pretty women, even aerobics. Of course, women also liked sweaty and sexy men. The satisfaction viewers felt stemmed from this. When requested to catch more glimpses of Yura's figure, Gyeo-ul felt a sigh coming on.
To make matters worse, a viewer quest arrived, asking for Yura to be pushed to vomit, making Gyeo-ul truly sigh this time and reject the mission.
The sergeant, oblivious to this internal struggle, interpreted Gyeo-ul's sigh differently.
"Are you disappointed?"
"No, not at all. I was just thinking about something else."
The black sergeant was suspicious but delved no deeper. The conversation turned practical.
"Running is foundational, but what's really needed in a combat situation is short-term endurance. Once they're more familiar, consider switching to shuttle runs instead of the 2-mile runs."
"Yes, that sounds reasonable."
Gyeo-ul checked the augmented reality UI. The link between 「Instruction」 and 「Perception」 provided personalized information on optimal exercise and rest durations for each individual. It also indicated where their limits lay.
"Alright, everyone, get up now."
"What? Already? Isn't excessive exercise counterproductive?"
"They've rested enough in my view."
"Wah, little leader...just a bit more rest, please..."
A female troop member whined. As Gyeo-ul pondered whether forging too intense of an image during this stage might be problematic, Sergeant Pierce redirected the attention by pointing at his own cap.
"Lieutenant, as long as you're wearing this, you need to be a devil."
Gyeo-ul wore a similar instructor cap with a broad brim. He offered an apologetic expression towards the desperately resting individuals.
"Apparently, so. Everyone, rise."
"No way..."
Groans leaked from here and there, primarily from the women, except for a few men. Sergeant Pierce truly became a demon. He rolled them in the mud, making everyone dirty.
Yura wasn't the best but certainly the most earnest. When she was truly struggling, she would glance at Gyeo-ul and grit her teeth. Gyeo-ul recalled her words about not wanting to disappoint. She was proving her promise. That's a trait of a good person.
Lunch ensued. Military rations (MREs) were distributed to everyone. The operations officer furnished these supplies, stating consuming them was also part of the training. Considering the treatment of refugees until that point, the expectation placed on the refugee volunteer unit was evident.
"Ugh... isn't this kind of salty?"
Some women complained. Military rations were inherently salty even to American palates accustomed to salt.
"You need to replenish the salt lost through sweat. You'll get used to it."
Those exhausted found it difficult even to eat. However, eat they eventually did. They were people destined to be devoted to eating.
With the prolonging rest, everyone retrieved their discarded clothing. The winter weather in Camp Roberts was comparable to late autumn in Korea. On an overcast day, the wind was sufficiently chilly.
Utilizing this time, Sergeant Pierce taught a military song. Even memorizing it was challenging for the people. It was in English, after all. Those who knew some English chuckled at the witty lyrics.
After another round of exertion in the afternoon, the sergeant made a suggestion to Gyeo-ul.
"How about we let them eat dinner, shower, and then march them back to the barracks?"
"Are you showing off?"
When Gyeo-ul accurately pointed out the essence, the sergeant with dark skin flashed a white toothy grin.
"You do catch on quick, young second Lieutenant. We know it too. The power games are fierce among the refugees. Something like a march may seem trivial, but it will stand out impressively in that dumpster heap."
"Did you also teach the song for that?"
"A little of both. Where's a soldier who doesn't know at least one military song?"
Dinner time was a happy moment for the reserve troops. Although used after the US troops, the mess hall was opened nonetheless. Though it had become more modest, the regular army's menu was qualitatively different from the rations given to the refugees. Gyeo-ul had to work hard to stop them from gorging. A crisis would arise if they suffered discomfort.
The provision of a hot shower post-dinner brought the women to tears. The constraint was 10 minutes. Sufficient for men, too brief for women. Yet, they all wore their best expressions.
Gyeo-ul accepted the sergeant's suggestion. As evening fell, they jogged past the checkpoint of the refugee zone. The reserve troops mumbled the military song they had learned during the day.
One, two, three, four, one, two, three, four
When our old grandma was ninety-one,
She did PT for fun.
When our old grandma was ninety-two,
If you were in her way, she'd have walked over you!
When our old grandma was ninety-three,
She'd do PT up a tree!
...
When our old grandma turned ninety-seven,
She died and shot to heaven.
She met Saint Peter by the pearly gate!
And she said, "Hey, pete. I hope I'm not late!"
Saint Peter saw her and chuckled.
He said, "Drop, granny. Do ten push-ups!"
The US military soldiers guarding the checkpoint laughed openly. From their perspective, the reserve troop members must have been a sight to behold. Throughout the passage through a few sections, the spectators among the refugees wore bemused expressions.
The reserve troops seemed to have started enjoying it. Despite limping from aching legs, they couldn't stifle their giggles.
---------------------------= Author's Note ---------------------------=
1. I don't have any stockpile accumulated over 40,000 years. The Blood Ravens stole it.
2. Movies are great nourishment for nurturing a childlike heart.
There are numerous masterpieces, indeed.
The Return of the Matchstick Girl, clementine, sector 7, the Joseon Beautiful Three Musketeers, etc...
They seem so potent that they could destroy the earth with just their innocence...