I thought about it for a long time, but
the military was truly a rational choice.
I was almost proud of myself for choosing a place like the military.
Among the military, I decided not to go in as an ordinary enlisted soldier, but as a non-commissioned officer.
And a Special Forces NCO at that.
That place we call the special forces.
There were several reasons I chose to become a Special Forces NCO out of all the many options.
First, they take care of food, clothing, and shelter.
How great is that?
That alone is reason enough to join the military.
It is such an incredible benefit that I could almost think it would be fine to live in the military for the rest of my life.
If you live outside, money goes out just from breathing.
Electricity, water, gas… Of course, I don’t pay those.
Anyway, that’s how it is for normal people.
You have to eat, and you have to buy clothes to wear.
Seriously, everything you do costs money.
But the military takes care of it all.
They give you food, and they give you clothes.
They even give you one uniform, so you don’t have to worry about what to wear.
So considerate.
Second. You get a job.
In other words, you get paid.
They take care of food, clothing, and shelter,
and they pay you too?
On top of that, you build a career.
Is there any reason not to go?
Enlisted soldiers get paid too, but the scale is different from an NCO’s.
They say various allowances are added to your salary as well.
That was one of the reasons I applied as an NCO instead of an enlisted soldier.
Third.
You can learn something new.
They said that if you enlist as an NCO, there are sometimes opportunities to learn new skills.
Or you can learn skills according to your NCO specialty.
If you follow old men around on manual labor jobs, all you get is cursed at, and they don’t teach you any skills.
As expected, since the military is run by the state, it’s free and comes with a lot of benefits.
Fourth.
This might be the most important one.
I can fulfill my military duty.
For reference, I’m not an orphan.
Naturally, I have a duty to fulfill my military service,
and since I had to go to the military anyway, I decided to go as an NCO.
The military I’d have to go to anyway.
Wouldn’t it be good to go, earn money, and learn skills?
The military is the best.
.
.
.
Fuck.
You have to take a test to get into the military?
Unbelievable.
I hadn’t thought of that.
I thought as long as you had arms and legs and could talk, you could go,
but there was a written exam.
My enlistment ran into the massive wall called an exam.
As expected, was becoming a Special Forces NCO something chosen,
a special place only special people could go?
I inwardly became aware of just how great a thing I was attempting.
Right.
They give you such incredible benefits,
so the reason people don’t enlist must be because it’s that hard and difficult.
But I will leap over that wall.
Because I’m going to be a Special Forces NCO.
I paid for an online lecture.
For the first time in twelve years of regular schooling, I received the help of private education.
I should have gotten in fair and square with my own ability, but I had no confidence.
I felt guilty, as if I were cheating a little, but I convinced myself it couldn’t be helped.
I submitted my enlistment application,
and underwent the physical examination.
187 cm / 80 kg.
There were no issues with my body, including my eyesight.
And then came the decisive battle: the written evaluation.
I worried a lot, but with the help of private education, I passed easily.
So this is why people talk about private education, private education.
I understood the hearts of Gangnam mothers.
When I looked online, it said the written exam wasn’t that difficult,
and that rather than knowledge level, they mainly looked at intellectual ability tests and situational judgment ability, but that was a lie.
It was much harder than I expected.
If I hadn’t prepared in advance,
if I had tried to win with my own ability, I would have failed immediately.
There were so many questions that I was short on time.
And there were also questions that conflicted with my common sense.
What is not an appropriate response during a disaster crisis?
A response during a disaster crisis?
You should run away.
What are you standing there responding for?
If I hadn’t studied by practically memorizing the questions based on past exams, I would have chosen some ridiculous answer.
There were similar questions among the ones I’d practiced, so I was barely able to avoid the crisis.
Next was the background check.
Pass.
I guess there are no great traitors in my family.
Not that I had anything called a family in the first place.
Next was the physical fitness evaluation.
There were running, sit-ups, push-ups, pull-ups, and so on, but I got through it easily.
They said I was first class.
I was almost there now.
The final gate. The interview remained.
There was something I realized while taking the written exam.
Most of the things I thought were right were wrong.
That tendency was especially strong in the value judgment section.
My honesty was the wrong answer.
I engraved that deep into my head.
No matter what, I will devote this one life to the nation.
Ever since I was young, my dream was to join the Special Warfare Command.
The Special Warfare Command was the only hope that sustained my harsh life.
I will not give up until I complete the mission.
I memorized it word for word.
I memorized a self-introduction essay that was almost like a novel and fleshed it out.
I inserted my views on the nation and national security into the self-introduction essay.
Perhaps thanks to that, I was able to hang the necklace of acceptance around my neck.
I submitted my application in the middle of winter,
as soon as I graduated,
and I received the acceptance notice in summer, when the cicadas were crying.
I am now a Special Forces NCO.
.
.
.
There were ten days left until enrollment.
Normally, at a time like this, people meet friends and hold farewell parties and such.
But I had no friends, so there was no reason for me to do that.
I didn’t know anyone, and there was no one to gift me a Dolphin watch because I was going to the military.
Even so, I had to put my affairs in order.
Putting my affairs in order wasn’t anything grand.
It just meant I would be leaving the house empty for a very long time, so I had to prepare accordingly.
I didn’t know when I would come back to this house.
I wasn’t going as an ordinary soldier, but as a Special Forces NCO.
My military service period might not be eighteen months, but eighteen years.
Maybe this was the last time.
Who knows, I might die after going to the military.
Dying in the military is fine.
It’s not a bad death.
But I don’t want the compensation for my death going to the man called my father.
He’d just gamble with that money and drink himself stupid.
There’s no need for my death to hasten my father’s death.
Can’t I donate it somewhere?
I’ll ask later.
So I cleaned the house once, thoroughly.
I don’t know what juvenile delinquent might settle down and live in my house later,
but clean is better than dirty.
Fortunately, there was barely any furniture or household stuff in the house, so organizing it was over quickly.
The next thing to organize was my inventory.
I sold the tent and camping equipment that had been my home for a long time,
but that I didn’t think I’d use anymore, on Karrot.
For the first time, I also tried giving things away.
Odds and ends.
Things I had shoved in haphazardly because I was in a hurry.
Things I used when I traveled.
Trash bags I carried around when I sold ice cream.
Things like the helmet I used for deliveries were in my inventory.
I took out everything useless and either threw it away or organized it.
And...
That bag of love and hate.
The bag I stole when I was kidnapped.
I was shocked when I first opened that bag.
It was full of cash.
When I counted it, there was one hundred million won.
It was filled with fifty-thousand-won bills.
At first, I was going to deposit it straight into the bank,
but apparently if you deposit cash like this these days, they investigate the source, right?
Where did you get the money?
If you can’t prove the source of the money, you get slammed with taxes right away.
So I just kept it.
In that bag, I put Yang Jeongwon’s gold necklace.
The insurance money I received after scrapping the motorcycle.
The money I earned from part-time jobs, the money from selling ice cream.
I put it all in.
I couldn’t distinguish whether this money was from part-time jobs
or from selling ice cream,
but anyway, I gathered all the money I had and put it in that bag.
It was the bag containing my entire fortune.
It had one hundred million won and another eighteen million two hundred thousand won inside.
I put that bag in my inventory.
Because I never know when I’ll need money.
I lightly finished putting my affairs in order.
.
.
.
The day of enrollment.
For enrollment, I just had to go to the Special Warfare School in Gwangju, Gyeonggi Province.
I transferred subway lines three times, got off, took a taxi, and headed for the Special Warfare School.
“Are you enrolling?”
I got into a taxi driven by an older man with white hair.
“Yes. I’m enrolling today.”
“Ah-ha. I see. I’m from that unit too.”
“Yes…”
“I’m saying I’m your senior from that unit.”
“Yes.”
What’s with that look?
What does he want from me?
No way, is he expecting something like a salute?
Nah, surely not.
It’s not like we know each other.
I haven’t even enrolled yet, either.
And what would he do with a salute if he got one?
Why would he want that?
Something completely useless?
“The intensity of training has gotten much weaker these days. Too many people were getting hurt during training. So now they’ve changed it so the top priority is making sure people don’t get injured.”
“Ah~ Is that so?”
“Still, training has to be a little harsh and exhausting for it to feel like you’ve been trained. Training these days is too bland, you know.”
“Ah~ You must have gone through training recently?”
I asked out of pure curiosity, but he seemed very flustered.
Why?
“Huh? Huh? No… That’s not it, but if you watch YouTube and stuff these days, it all comes out. If you watch that, experts like us can tell right away.”
For an expert, his belly stuck out way too much.
His forearms were too soft, and his legs were thin.
“Anyway, did you pack the equipment you need when you enroll?”
“Pardon? Equipment?”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t bring anything?”
“They said I could just come as I am.”
“Officially, they say they issue everything, but once you get there, there are a ton of things you need. Like a watch.”
“This?”
I raised my left wrist.
“Things like lotion, shampoo, a razor.”
“This?”
“This?”
“This?”
Just in case, I showed the driver the things I had packed in my inventory.
“Underwear, sneakers…”
“This?”
“This?”
“Phone charger, gloves, tumbler, notebook, insoles, protectors.”
“This?”
The driver looked at me with wonder as I took out everything he mentioned.
“You prepared very thoroughly. You won’t be lacking anything.”
“Thank you.”
It was the first time.
The first time someone had paid attention to my enlistment.
I was truly grateful that he checked each item for me, one by one, in case I had forgotten something.
On top of that, he even praised me for preparing thoroughly.
Sir.
No, senior.
I will train well and be reborn as a reliable special warrior of this country.
In return, I will not take the change for the taxi fare.
Thank you.
.
.
Min Yeongbae, a taxi driver near Gwangju.
He had been exempted from military service,
but when he drove his taxi, he lied and said he was from the Special Warfare School.
If I say I’m their senior, first of all, they salute.
Then I say, “Relax, relax,” or “I’m just an old man now,” and ask them this and that like I’m looking after them.
Did you prepare this? Did you prepare that?
Usually, they don’t prepare everything.
Because they don’t need it.
Because the unit tells them not to prepare it.
But if a senior says it’s necessary,
and that it’s not on the list but useful once you bring it in, most of them buy it.
Especially if they come with their parents, the mothers buy it for them.
Then I can sell garbage-like goods at inflated prices.
To sell garbage-like products at even higher prices, my wife runs a general store.
Our general store doesn’t have prices written down.
Because the price is different for each customer.
We aim for customized service.
Should I call it custom marketing?
It doesn’t matter if the quality of the products is poor.
They won’t be using those products anyway.
The unit won’t even give them a chance to use them.
Those items are prohibited from being brought in.
Once they enroll, everything gets confiscated.
This fool I picked up in the taxi today looked naive.
With how clueless he seemed, he looked perfect for overcharging.
I thought I could raise my sales a bit.
But even though I said I was from that unit, he didn’t salute.
Kids these days really have no manners.
I tossed out items one by one, saying they were necessary, but he had everything prepared.
He didn’t even seem to have a bag, but things kept coming out.
When things didn’t go my way, I got annoyed for no reason.
So when he paid in cash, I just didn’t give him his change and left.
The fare was 9,700 won, and he gave me 10,000 won, so I just took it and came away.
I guess that makes us even?
.
.
.
After getting out of the taxi and walking a little, I saw a huge gate,
and in front of it, a man in military uniform stood like a statue, guarding the gate.
He looked cool.
Like the little nobody I was, I asked if this was the right place and whether I could enter,
and unlike his earlier charismatic appearance, he guided me in a kind and gentle voice.
“You’ve come to the right place. If you go straight up the road you see here, there should be instructors there to help with enrollment. Unity.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
I passed through the place called the guard post and went up into the unit for enrollment.
Low two- to three-story buildings stood lined up neatly like school buildings, and in front of them was a wide field.
Was it not a field, but a parade ground?
To one side was a tall tower, and atop it sat an eagle.
Below it was written the phrase: .
Rather than giving me strength, that phrase felt a little eerie.
As I walked, taking in the sight of the unit with my eyes, I arrived quickly.
“Are you enrolling today?”
“Yes.”
“You can go in this way.”
“Yes.”
Who said Special Forces discipline was strict?
They’re this kind.
And then I opened the door and entered the large auditorium.
The moment I went in, the door closed behind me.
“What are you standing there looking at, you bastard? Aren’t you going to lower your head? Head down, head down. I’ll give you three seconds to find an empty spot over there and squat. One, two, fuck, look at you move. Are you crawling? I asked if you’re crawling!”
At the same time as the door closed, shouting and curses rang out.
I immediately checked the front.
People in the same situation as me,
the people enrolling today, were squatting,
hands clasped together and placed behind their heads.
Their heads were deeply lowered.
If someone saw them, they’d think they were hostages captured by terrorists.
Shouts and curses flew around everywhere.
I naturally slipped in among them.
Just like them, I squatted down, clasped my hands, and brought them to the back of my head.
I lowered my head.
I heard curses, I heard shouting,
and as I sat squatting like a nobody,
I suddenly remembered the old days when I was a gofer.
My heart grew at ease.
Everything felt familiar and warm.
This place was like my hometown.
The place I belong is here.