I requested permission to return to base.
Using excuses like poor physical condition, homesickness, and maladaptation.
Maladaptation in the eighth month of dispatch.
It was a nonsensical excuse.
But I didn't have the slightest desire to remain in the Congo any longer.
I felt empty.
Now that my revenge was over, I felt so psychologically hollow.
Was this all it was?
The thought occurred to me: Was our team taken down just because of bastards like this?
That I had blown everything up instead of looting the rebel stronghold—that was the reason.
I'd gone to the rebel stronghold to avenge my brothers,
Only to imagine myself stealing goods there.
I didn't even want to imagine it.
Instead, I planted plenty of bombs and destroyed as much as I could.
Anyway, now that Derek Mayer had disappeared, I had no reason, no thought, no heart to remain in the Congo.
I only wished to leave as soon as possible.
The Congolese side wanted me to stay a little longer,
But because my will was so firm, they couldn't hold me back any further.
I'd already done enough,
And with just the manual I'd created, I'd more than done my share.
This was something even they acknowledged.
They said it contained exactly what the Congo needed.
They were very satisfied with that manual.
The fact that M23 and ADF had fought and destroyed themselves was also a factor.
It wasn't to the level of organizational collapse,
But it would take a considerable amount of time for them to regain their strength.
Both sides had suffered heavy casualties.
Curiosity had grown about who had killed Bakambu, the commander of M23,
And who had infiltrated the M23 stronghold.
But nothing was known.
There were only rampant speculations.
*********
Permission to return came down from both the Congolese and our military.
I immediately prepared to return.
There was nothing special to pack.
I just needed to take the field pack I'd brought with me.
The only problem was Poaipi.
"Isn't there any way?"
"We're looking into every possible method, but it seems difficult."
I'd asked Secretary Seong Junhui to find a way to take him to Korea.
Among the people I knew, Secretary Seong Junhui was the only one who would know about such things and advise me.
I had no choice but to ask him again.
I told him money and such didn't matter,
And asked him to find a way to take Poaipi along, but
The only answer I received was that it was difficult.
The adoption procedures in the Congo, and the legal issues in Korea were all problematic.
For starters, adoption by an unmarried twenty-three-year-old man was impossible in itself.
Moreover, my current status was that of a soldier.
There was still a year remaining in my mandatory service until discharge.
I wanted to bring him even if I had to obtain refugee status for him,
But that process was complicated as well, and I was told there was a one hundred percent chance of being rejected midway.
I thought about how nice it would be if I could put Poaipi in my inventory.
But that was a futile act as well.
It was no different from smuggling him in.
Even if I somehow brought him along, he couldn't live there.
I didn't know about here in the Congo,
But living in Korea without proper identification was nearly impossible.
Social life itself was impossible.
It was hard to attend school, and hard to receive services including hospitals.
If he grew a bit older and became an adult?
It would be difficult to find a job, to get a credit card, or to get a phone.
"Poaipi. I'm sorry. I want to take you with me somehow, but I can't find a way."
"Inbae, I'm fine. I don't know what you think, but I'm a Congolese person."
"Right. You are a Congolese person."
"I can get by well here. Don't worry."
"Then how about this? If you want, I'll take you back to Ubira."
"I don't want that. Kinshasa here is much better than Ubira. There are far fewer rebels here too."
"Then..."
"Don't worry, Inbae. There are a lot of kids like me here. Kids living without parents. So you don't need to worry."
"Then I'll send you money every month. Use it to attend school, and study hard. Exercise hard too."
"Inbae, you don't need to do that. You've already done enough for me. Thank you."
"No. I brought you from Ubira. I should take responsibility until the end, but I'm sorry I can't. I'll come for you when you turn twenty."
"....."
"So go to school. It might be a lot of money for you, but for me, it's not that much. But be careful of other people trying to take your money."
"Yeah."
I wasn't worried.
Poaipi was bright.
Like a capybara.
He got along well wherever he went,
And listened well to others' stories.
Thanks to that, I was able to come across a lot of valuable information.
Moreover, he had good athletic sense.
He absorbed the skills I taught like a sponge.
Combat techniques, and even marksmanship.
Before I knew it, he had grown to nearly one hundred and eighty centimeters tall.
Perhaps because he ate well, he had put on muscle as well.
Twelve years old and one hundred and eighty centimeters.
By Korean reckoning, he was fourteen,
But still, it was a level of growth I couldn't have imagined.
He fought well,
And had outstanding adaptability.
Poaipi was smart, too, and studied well.
I wasn't too worried about leaving him alone.
Still, there were things I needed to prepare.
Instead of our previous place, I bought a house for Poaipi.
It wasn't large, but it was safer than where we were currently living.
I purchased items Poaipi would need in advance.
"I'll send money to this account every month. If you need anything else, contact me."
"You don't have to do this."
"I do have to. And I told you. I don't know about you, but for me, it's not that much money."
"If anything happens, call me immediately. No, send me a message every day."
That day, I took out all the unnecessary items from my inventory and put them down in one corner of the house.
They were things I could obtain again anytime after returning to Korea.
But they were things that were hard to even see here.
Even the chocolate bars and candy I'd once bought in piles. I took them all out.
Poaipi would use them far more effectively than I would.
I trusted Poaipi.
Just in case, I also took out one bag containing a rifle and a pistol.
"You know how to use them, right? You should be careful when you need to be careful, but once you make a decision, don't hesitate. That hesitation could take your life."
"Got it."
"The hygiene isn't good here, so always boil water before drinking."
"Shower often too. That's why I deliberately bought an apartment."
"Eat your meals properly, and eat lots of vegetables."
"Always dress neatly too. It might not seem like a big deal, but your appearance is important too."
Was I originally someone who talked this much?
Was I someone who nagged endlessly like this?
In front of Poaipi, I kept babbling on about trivial things.
Wanting to give him something more, I fiddled unnecessarily with my inventory, with my field pack.
But I'd already given everything I could.
I'd also given him some cash as emergency funds.
"Since you're living alone, don't make too much of a mess, and clean up too...."
"Do you know you've been doing this for two hours now?"
"....."
"Stop it already. The nagging is getting worse and worse."
"Sorry. I'm worried."
After a brief pause, Poaipi said to me,
"But Inbae. Could you perhaps get more of the guns you gave me?"
"Why? You should have enough guns?"
I said, glaring at Poaipi.
I trusted Poaipi, but too many guns would be poison for him.
But Poaipi's answer was unexpected.
"I heard they're procuring guns in the Middle East."
"Huh? And?"
"I thought if it were you, Inbae, you'd be able to deliver them easily."
Poaipi laughed with a snort.
I was startled.
Did Poaipi know about my ability?
I hadn't used it in front of him before?
Flustered, I feigned calm as best I could and asked back,
"De... delivery?"
"Yeah. Delivery. You have a special ability, don't you, Inbae?"
How much did this kid know?
Should I take out my gun?
"What special ability?"
"Well... the things you gave me were a bit special."
"Special?"
"The chocolate bar you gave me. If you carried a chocolate bar around in the Congo's weather? The chocolate should have all melted and stuck to the wrapper in goopy lumps. But the one you gave me was very, very clean. As if it had just been made. But when you look at the expiration date, it was made a long time ago. For something like that, the condition was too good. So I thought. Couldn't Inbae have some kind of special ability?"
I hadn't imagined he'd pay attention to such things.
"The things you brought to the house were the same. Looking at the expiration dates, quantities, and the condition of the items, they were things that had been stored very well somewhere, but you couldn't have brought such things to the house. We don't have a car. You moved them in bags or a trunk? In the Congo? Carrying such things? As an Asian? You probably would have been robbed at gunpoint before taking three steps. So I thought. Couldn't Inbae have some kind of special ability?"
"Don't get me wrong. I just want to help you. If you have such an ability, that is."
"I need to make my own living too."
"Hahahahaha. You have quite the imagination. You could be a writer."
I cracked a joke, but Poaipi didn't laugh.
"Hey. I put the chocolate bar in the refrigerator and brought it for you. And I loaded the things I brought to the house in a car while you were at school, to surprise you. In Korea, guys who are good at surprises are popular."
Poaipi still didn't laugh.
It was the joke I was most proud of.
"Anyway, I'm leaving. Call me if anything happens. You know my number, right? Email, message, anything is fine. Contact me."
"Okay. Thank you."
"Don't mention it. See you again."
That was how I parted with Poaipi.
I thought I'd done everything I could,
But even so, the worry for Poaipi never ceased.
That was the kind of country the Congo was.
That was the kind of guy I was.
*********
"How about the Supply Unit?"
"The Supply Unit, sir?"
Having returned to the International Peace Support Group, I was meeting with the personnel officer.
I was an unusual person even within the IPSG.
Someone who had spent about three years in the Congo out of a four-year mandatory service period.
I held the rank of staff sergeant,
But I already possessed several medals,
And had received commendations from our government, the Congolese government, and the UN.
Someone with more than enough bonus points for promotion screening.
A resource who could be utilized through diplomatic channels based on his connections with the Congo.
A talent who would pass immediately with a free pass if he just applied for long-term service,
But I did not apply for long-term service.
I wanted to quietly spend the remaining seven months until discharge and leave the military.
Persistent persuasion from the unit commander, deputy commander, and sergeant major continued, but my will was firm.
I no longer wanted to wear a military uniform.
When I wore a military uniform,
Too many thoughts came to mind.
Whether good or bad.
So I said I wanted to work at as quiet a unit or position as possible after returning,
And the result was the Supply Unit.
Working in the Supply Unit suited me well.
All I had to do was properly receive the supplies that came into the IPSG and distribute them on time.
The baby-faced ones who came to the IPSG for training.
The Special Forces soldiers who came for their final inspection before deployment.
Distribute supplies according to each of their purposes,
Enter them in the ledger, and keep track of inventory.
In truth, the soldiers did almost all of that,
And the ordnance officer and I just checked over it.
Especially since the IPSG had a lot of equipment and sets for deployment,
I paid a little more attention to that part.
When I saw the fresh-faced babies who were just about to deploy,
Though most of them were actually older than me,
I wanted to tell them at least one thing more.
They gave almost everything needed in terms of supplies,
But military-issued supplies often failed to serve their purpose in the field.
"Make sure to pack several good flashlights. There are plenty of cheap good ones these days. That place is crawling with spots where you can't see a thing once the sun goes down."
"Get goggles and sunglasses that fit your face. If they slip during an operation, you'll suffer."
"For gloves, get sturdy ones first, and take several extra pairs. Things that are common in our country are hard to find there."
"If you take something like a multi-tool too, you'll end up using it at least once. If you're going to buy one, buy a good one. You'll need to cut rebar, so don't buy one that'll break its teeth."
"The food comes out better than you'd think, so don't worry. If all else fails, pack some bibim gochujang or something."
"Exercise? There are exercise machines there that guys like you left lying around. No need to go that far as to pack that."
"Towel? Sports towels are nice, but regular ones dry well enough. No need to worry too much."
I gave a few tips to the soldiers who had come to receive supplies.
It had been nearly three years in the deployment zone.
There would be few people who knew as much about deployment as I did.
Since most people rotated in and out on eight-month shifts.
The guys who’d gotten a little closer to me asked what I’d done while I was deployed,
but I didn’t answer them.
The military has a very convenient excuse.
“It’s classified.”
Checking the goods that came in, issuing them out, checking inventory.
It wasn’t anything special, but it was fun.
I felt bad for the fledglings being sent off on deployment,
so I wanted to make sure they had even one more thing.
Working like that, before I knew it, there were only two months left.
Until my discharge.
I had a lot on my mind.
I’d said I was getting out, but nothing was actually decided.
If I wanted to make a living, I’d have to get a job, and it seemed the options were largely divided into three.
The first was becoming a public servant.
There were ways to apply through special recruitment to places like the police special operations unit, the fire department, or the coast guard.
Military experience could also count as extra points.
But I didn’t want to live in that kind of organization again.
The second was getting a job in security or protection.
A security company, or bodyguarding celebrities or businessmen, or guarding events and facilities.
Special forces experience was somewhat preferred there too, so finding work wouldn’t be bad, but I wasn’t sure.
The third was coming out completely into the civilian world.
Becoming a fitness trainer,
or getting certified in extreme sports and teaching students.
Things like scuba diving or skydiving.
That was a field I didn’t know much about either, so I’d have to look into it more.
There was PMC work too, but I didn’t want to wear a uniform anymore, so pass.
There were defense companies too, but would they hire someone like me with only a high school diploma?
I wasn’t confident with paperwork either.
Once I got discharged, I’d have to leave the officer quarters I was in now and find a place to live,
but I had no idea where I should get one.
What if I got a place in Seoul, then ended up getting a job somewhere else?
So it made sense to find a place after getting a job.
But where was I supposed to find a job?
Should I say I’ll go career after all, even now?
I was torn.
I graduated high school and enlisted straight into the unit.
If you excluded school life.
If you excluded the few months of delivery part-time work I did before enlisting,
military life had been my entire life.
It had only been four years,
but it was a time when I learned, felt, and experienced more than in the nineteen years before that.
All the knowledge I had, I learned in the military,
and all the love I received, I received in the military.
Maybe continuing military life would be the best choice.
But I couldn’t.
I just couldn’t.
There was also the option of using the inventory.
But I wasn’t sure about that.
Whether I could make money with it.
Using the inventory well in reality was difficult.
The only way to make money with the inventory was smuggling, at best.
Bringing decent goods from overseas and selling them for a price.
I could see the advantage, since customs and logistics costs would be reduced, letting me sell them a little cheaper.
But who would buy those goods?
No, bringing cheap things from China and selling them wouldn’t make money,
and if I brought in luxury goods and sold them, even if I included certificates of authenticity, I’d be plagued by accusations that they were fakes.
In the end, I’d have to sell something among prohibited imports that was profitable,
but that didn’t seem easy either.
I didn’t even know what made money.
And handling the money I received would be even harder.
It absolutely wouldn’t be easy.
Ring, ring, ring, ring.
The phone rang.
“It’s been a while.”
“Who is this?”
“You don’t know me? That hurts. If it can’t be done, make it happen. Special Warfare School, Seo Dae-hun.”
“Ah! Dae-hun.”
“You doing well?”
“Yeah. I’m doing well. Sorry I haven’t contacted you all this time.”
“I heard what happened too. They said you were deployed the whole time.”
“Yeah. That’s how it turned out. So I couldn’t contact anyone.”
“We should meet up sometime~”