A human being properly belonging to society ought to procure their own food at the very least.
As the end of the long winter drew near, one finally up and about after rupturing muscles throughout his body.
Trudge, trudge...
"Ah, why the hell should a guy with two months left until discharge and one month of leave remaining get dragged into menial labor like this?"
The young man Gim Chomok, whose ability was called by the derisive nickname "Organic Overclock" rather than its official name, was no different.
"Ah, why are you complaining when you got out of regular duty thanks to having so few days left? I've got patrol at dawn after this, damn it."
"Hey, is this shit for real? You run your mouth like that to a father-figure senior who shares your service number?"
It was a pitiful display of military discipline—a mere Private First Class trading curses with the squad's senior-most soldier—but.
"...It's only because the Dimensional Gate burst and buried them. Does a firearms rampage at a frontline unit even make sense?! Launch an investigation immediately!"
"Do you want to see my promotion blocked?! Try walking your ass to an assembly under my command right now?! The Minister said our corps is..."
This was an era when the normalization of the military was in full swing, a time when the vortex of social issues was raging fiercely.
In an organization where you had to peel chestnut burrs with psychokinesis if ordered from above, of course the easiest targets were the soldiers.
"That's what you get for enlisting late. You should've taken a leave of absence after one year and come straight in."
"Ah, fuck. I should've beaten your ass more when we were civilians... kicking you when you were drunk wasn't enough."
"What? Was that you? The footprint on my ass the day after final exams?!"
To top it off, they were from the same region, had gone to the same high school, entered the same university and the same department, only to end up running into each other in the same unit.
What could you do? If you had no intention of staying stuck in this shithole forever, it was better to hash it out in private than to lose a friend.
As the lecture "The world is disgustingly small, and you never know when you'll run into someone in unexpected places" suddenly began unspooling in Gim Chomok's mind,
the frowning face of the convenience store owner who had groveled belly-up before the Ministry of Employment and Labor's punitive fine flashed through his mind.
And so the two of them, wearing rubber gloves and tracksuits, in order to do the work as slowly as possible—
"Sigh... fuck, how do I always end up with this kind of work even on a golden weekend dawn?"
There was a limit to how long they could loaf around the field kitchen trailer.
From the cook's point of view, who had zero interest in the TMI of two friends chatting in the distance, those kitchen support personnel couldn't have looked pleasant.
"Hey, old-timers! If you're not even going to smoke there, stop loafing around and bring the rice sacks over here! You don't want to eat?!"
The cook, who would obviously get torn apart by the ration officer if the rice wasn't ready before mealtime,
directed the work with an attitude as cold as midwinter water drawn from the nearby river that had only undergone basic purification.
Splash...
"Ugh, fuck. I'm gonna get frostbite at this rate..."
Sighing, the two of them began washing rice and the rice cooker set atop the mobile trailer again today, but
when they thought of the busy past days spent being wrung through hellish "reconnaissance" schedules.
"...Yeah, this is better. It's a cheaper price to pay than doing a force recon and lying down for a week."
"Even if we wash rice in ice-cold water, at worst there's a chance of frostbite, not death. Count your blessings."
Just sleeping a little less and doing low-intensity labor in the dead of night would probably help more in living out one's expected lifespan.
"Hup..."
Clang!
"Geez, I heard you old men go around trading punches with monsters out there! Why's your core strength so weak?"
The cook gave them a look after seeing them straining to lift the freshly scrubbed single-piece cauldron, but.
"I traded punches and that's why I'm wrecked now, you punk. Not counting terminal leave, I've got less than a month left in this uniform."
"Oops."
To the cheerful soon-to-be-civilian (for real), this much nagging couldn't even stick and just bounced right off.
"...But shouldn't you be watching him instead of me? I see steam coming from the water. That bastard's using his ability?"
"What? Ah, mister! How could you heat up the water like this just because your hands are cold washing rice!!"
Jeong Il-hwan, Private First Class attached to the Awakened Unit.
His possessed ability, "Calorie Conversion."
An ability that used his own body or objects touching his extremities as fuel to activate.
"Hey, the rice is going to cook and become rice anyway! If my hands get protected in the process, isn't that a good thing?"
It contributed to lowering the already abysmal quality of military chow made by a cook with no talent for outdoor cooking by yet another notch.
That day, the Awakened Unit was gifted rice for lunch with a rating of three skulls.
...The bonus was that the rice quality was usually rated around one skull anyway.
***
"...Damn it, I didn't know. Don't look at me like that."
Normally, cooks were supposed to finish their own meals first and start preparing the next meal as soon as the current one was finished.
At least they could eat while it was still warm, so the meal temperature relatively covered up their inadequacies, but.
"...Ugh, the rice seems even drier than usual. Am I eating Annam rice? Or rice flour?"
The staple was so bad that even today's curry menu couldn't cover it up, and everyone's faces instantly turned into Impressionist paintings.
Of course, the one suffering the most through all this was.
"Sigh... when I think about it being dawn, how much of this do I have to shovel down."
Jeong Il-hwan himself, suffering from the "diet" chow he had brought about.
"That's right. Eat a looot, Il-hwan. In case you plan to start a fire during reconnaissance."
If combat broke out, he would hang all sorts of combustible materials from his body to activate his ability,
and could fight like a living flamethrower, but the mission assigned to him at dawn today was reconnaissance, through and through.
The basics of reconnaissance are, first and foremost mobility, second mobility, and third stealth—why would he carry any goddamn dead weight?
"Fuck, this is why I eat until my stomach bursts, snack on stuff, and even hit the Golden Carriage, but never gain weight."
To an ignition-type Awakener without a refined dinosaur oil potion that could produce one person's worth of calories from a single 250ml can,
the only remaining method was the spare calories in his own body, so what could he do? He had to eat this too.
"Cook sirs, since we've finished eating, call us when the next prep starts. I'll go rest."
"You worked hard!"
Lying blankly in an empty container and catching up on sleep while everyone was busy with duties wouldn't be bad, but
compared to shivering from the cold under a heavy sleeping bag in a place that wasn't even properly insulated...
"...Ugh, is this your house?! Now you've even brought a friend along."
"Ah, I told you there's no place like here, right? It's got a TV, you can mark a used medical fridge as obsolete and salvage it, freeze drinks..."
Shouldn't one lie comfortably on a bed in a warm place?
"Hey! You come here way too often! Give it a rest!"
Well, he couldn't have looked kindly on a damned bastard barging into his personal paradise with feet caked in dirt and grime.
"Ow, don't you feel sorry for me being sent out for kitchen support when I have so little time left until discharge?! I'm telling you, watch your manners."
"...Freaking peak-combat-power bastard..."
What could he do? If push came to shove, this bastard would serve as his lifeboat out of this hell.
With tears of blood, he offered up a cola half-frozen in the freezer.
Something like a tear fell from the eyes of the medical officer who had even his remote control seized.
"Don't worry too much. Later, when that bastard gets injured, you can just treat him longer, right?"
"Yeah... Il-hwan, you're right. Instead of fixing him up quick and clean, I should just treat him so it hurts like hell until he obeys."
To boot, a certain Private First Class who considered backstabbing a friend to be the greatest joy in life attempted to sow discord.
Then, news reached their ears.
"—This is breaking news. Reports have come in that first contact with intelligent life forms has occurred at the Tennessee One Gate in the United States."
"...What?"
"Whoa, is it different from our neighborhood Dimensional Gate that only spits out monsters?"
Reporting with a short video clip showing entities wearing black, irregular armor.
"—We in the United States actively welcome contact with new intelligent life forms, and through new trade, mutual development..."
The interview with the U.S. Secretary of Commerce, unable to hide his expression swollen with hope and dreams.
"We're back. Wow, how can even dinner be tasteles... did something happen?"
"...Um. Want to see this first?"
"—Breaking news again. A large-scale riot has broken out in the state of Tennessee, USA. The Pentagon..."
Only after enough time for one more meal had passed, it was replaced by the roar of the U.S. Secretary of Defense, his face deeply furrowed.
"—We're sending those black-armored sons of bitches' homeland straight back to the Stone Age!"
A story in which everyone holds hands and puts on happy faces is a fairy tale.
It seemed this too was something that could not be seen in this delightful paradise of Homo sapiens today.
***
Perhaps because the reduction in numbers of the monster bastards who had been gradually subjected to humanity's all-out counterattack was beginning to show visibly.
"Small arms alone will never be the answer! If they threaten us, we must retaliate!"
"...Um, I guess this isn't the time to mention the awkward fact that we're the ones who invaded them, right?"
Or perhaps it was thanks to the humans above finally granting permission for full-scale firepower deployment.
As they began replacing protein by grinding up monsters directly, and news of victory rang out incessantly,
humanity believed there were no longer any obstacles to becoming the masters of the lands within the Dimensional Gates that had opened in each of their countries.
Of course, that was only until the continental United States was invaded at winter's end.
Learning the hard way that what had happened on Earth could just as easily happen in another world,
the hegemon of the North American continent had no choice but to suffer miserably over its vast lands.
To the United States of America, a nation that had grown while fighting even a civil war over this very issue, it brought back distant memories.
"Haha, what is this primitive tribe lacking even in technology?! Anyone can see it's a buffet of labor for our superior race!"
"...Why did a gate have to open connected to those bastards in Tennessee, of all places? By any chance...?"
This invasion was problematic in many ways—the region, their actions, and though coincidental, the race primarily being abducted.
The pointy-eared Dixies who arrived in Tennessee, the main battlefield of the Civil War, had begun turning back time to the 19th century once more.
These powerful ones in powered armor, who had rushed in claiming they would obtain labor through dimensional conquest in accordance with the Great Gate Era.
"Did your birth rates plummet because you live so long? Is it hard to fill labor needs with citizens? Then just drag them in from somewhere else, right?"
"One energy bullet injected into your brain, and you're reserve labor force too, bastard... Conscripted!"
"Become labor for our Ascension... Buy time until the remaining 'Machine Ascension' is complete...!!"
These bastards bore the "burden of the race" to raise their nation's industry; they were naturally utter fanatics.
"Damn it, why are they hesitating to shoot?! If they're going to be like this, why the hell did they bring tanks!"
"Commander. Those bastards have knives to our citizens' throats and are threatening us!"
The rule of not touching civilians was something agreed upon only among the people of Earth.
When they heard the word Geneva, the invaders' trick was to translate it as, "Gene-Bar? What is it? A genetically modified energy bar?"
American National Guardsmen had to watch the insane spectacle of monsters that wouldn't die even from main cannon fire using civilians as shields to escape.
The problem was that, at any rate, kidnapping people while barely killing anyone was considered quite gentlemanly in the current state of affairs in America.
"Grrr...?"
"FUCK! Multiple monster signatures! Three o'clock!!"
The United States' land area ranked third or fourth in the world, though it quarreled with China over various opinions on the matter, but
as if to show that its title as the current era's superpower was no empty boast, its actual combat strength was number one.
While the response to monster extermination after the dimensional gates opened was far faster and more thorough than China or India's,
no matter how strong, sturdy, or armored the latest-model mechanical limb was, there was a limit to what a single arm could block.
Perhaps it was thanks to the actions of their ancestors who had greedily swallowed up lands that originally belonged to others, all while prattling on about manifest destiny.
"...James Moriarty, you say? No, are you seriously going around claiming this is your real name?"
"Yes, I came down from New York over yonder. I came all this way to do blue-collar work, so hurry up and give me my subsidy."
"...Sigh, is this really right..."
The vast land where one could still get a chance to launder their identity by fleeing to some backwater state even after committing a serious crime had become a shackle.
On top of that, only the major and mid-sized cities had strong economic power; sparsely populated regions were just as vulnerable here.
If only the population were larger, they could at least grind through people like India or China and have enough capacity to maintain their mid-sized cities.
"We should have taken in more immigrants...!! Shouldn't have passed laws restricting immigration, should have taken more of those South American bastards back then...!!"
What lived on this vast North American land with no end in sight,
wasn't it a population that didn't even reach four hundred million, even when combining uncounted illegal immigrants and various unregistered peoples?
So here's the question.
On this vast continent, instead of leaving behind genes by developing proper civilization and culture using intelligence,
how many hordes of monsters had crossed over, surviving through superior physiques, swift predation, and stomachs that could digest anything?
What else could it be? They'd crossed over in numbers great enough to fill the horizon, riding dimensional gates through empty space.
"...Fucking hell, we're withdrawing! We don't have the troops to rescue those civilians right now!"
At a time when being dragged away meant losing your labor force, but being eaten meant your life was over, the priority was obviously the latter!
America went all-in on stopping the ongoing monster-feeding incidents rather than saving those who had been dragged away.
"Is that right?! No, shouldn't we at least try?!"
"You bastards who would've handled this immediately if it happened in your own state, or near the White House—what excuses do you have now!"
Naturally, under a democratic system where everything was the administration's fault, citizens hurled every curse at the incompetent government.
"We want to get our citizens back too, and we want to prevent such incidents before they happen, but we don't have the administrative capacity or the troops!"
On their end as well, it wasn't as if they had nothing to say for themselves.
If they only defended the cities, citizens would starve to death, so the military had to go to water sources, key resource zones, and the grain-producing regions backed by lobbyists too.
How could they cover every single case of extraterrestrial-slave trade (net gain: zero) happening in the 21st century?
"Then use machines! If you're short on manpower, program them!"
"Sir, even with full unmanned weaponization, the ones controlling them are still human..."
Even with advanced full automation, the lack of human resources needed to cover this entire vast land tied their hands.
From the standpoint that becoming monster feed was far worse, the shift in rescue priorities was, in a way, only natural.
Additionally, aren't humans creatures who, no matter how grave a tragedy they witness, feel it as smaller than their own petty sorrows?
"...Tennessee was a good state. But my state survived, didn't it? Please re-elect me!"
"Replacing me now would harm our continuous state defense policy! We are in a state of emergency!"
If, in the midst of this national crisis, governors were getting elected on the platform of "Changing horses midstream is for amateurs," that said it all.
America was now no different from a polio patient who had been living perfectly fine, only to suddenly fall into cold water and become paralyzed.
To escape this, they needed to show the will of a president who rose like a phoenix even amid such hardship, but...
"...Once the situation improves, we will definitely reclaim our citizens! So everyone, enlist to protect Uncle Sam..."
"Yeah, I've seen how they treated the veterans from Vietnam, Afghanistan, and Iraq\~ Not going\~"
Unlike those times, people no longer expected any return when they entrusted themselves to the government.
What could they do? They had to flail around desperately until they restored the trust they had lost.
America began to suffer, buried in its own contradictions.
***
Who was it that said when the superpower coughs, the whole world trembles?
Instead of the already lagging global economy trembling, this time it was global security's turn to shake.
Weeeeee...!!
Sadly, the ripple effects even reached one sergeant who had just finished his ordinary weekend routine of making and killing time.
"...Ugh, what is it now at dawn..."
"Sergeant Gim! Sergeant Gim! You need to wake up! The recon squad just encountered an intelligent entity..."
His brain, half-asleep and grinding away, snapped into high-speed rotation the moment he realized who was on recon duty today.
"...Oh, fuck. We're fucked! Ilhwan!"
Weren't those crazy bastards who took an entire state hostage and announced the revival of slavery the first guests from the dimensional gate?
If that bastard who was both his friend and comrade-in-arms had gone out on patrol today, it was no longer someone else's problem.
In a rush, most of the combat personnel in the unit grabbed their gear and raced out to search for and recover the recon team, deploying on the operation.
"Urg... ugh...!!"
"Can't... can't breathe..."
When they arrived at today's reconnaissance area, what they saw were two squad members collapsed and torn to shreds, and...
one alien species so large that anyone could see it was twice as tall and three times as wide.
It was holding by the nape a friend he had seen every day since high school.
An intelligent entity far removed from civilized development, armed solely with close-quarters weapons.
It held but a single blade and wore light armor protecting only vital organs, looking like nothing more than that, but...
red flames of energy shot into the sky as if a volcano had erupted, showing no signs of dying down.
A pillar of energy composed of a foreboding aura sounded an alarm in his instincts.
—If you wish to keep that lifeline even a moment longer, flee from this spot right now without looking back.
Even having merely encountered this entity once and survived was an achievement great enough in itself.
Oooooong...!!
Within that pillar, the powerful being aimed an energy blade that elongated freely as if draping over its short sword toward him.
"You have come again. If you are warriors, state your names and come fight! If you are weaklings with no such will, begone!"
It grinned, delivering the words directly into their minds.
Gim Chomok was bewildered by the directed message echoing in his heart, unlike the voice his ears couldn't understand at all.
Ptooey!
Reasoning that since the day had passed too smoothly he had jinxed himself, he spat on the ground to ward off the bad luck.
As if holding out against monsters that came like clockwork every week wasn't hard enough.
"...Bipedal? Fuck, I've never seen a weapon like that either. That's right... there was no way it'd only be monsters...!!"
Thud...!!
"...We're done for. We can't beat that...!!"
The appearance of a monster so overwhelmingly superior that everyone except him was on the verge of panic drove morale to rock bottom.
To ordinary people who knew nothing, it might have looked like "What are they doing?" but one only sees as much as one knows.
Precisely because it was an elite unit packed with combat-oriented ability users, their spirits broke in an instant instead.
"...On your feet! Pick up your weapons if you want to live even a little longer! Damn it, what kind of warmongering bastards are these?!"
His ability let him feel the gap all the more keenly, and though he had sensed a path to a special promotion so soon after the unit's founding,
he could neither abandon the comrade rolling at his feet nor the friend still dangling in the enemy's grip.
Even if anyone could see this looked like the finishing blow to the house of cards called human civilization...
"Who are you?! Are you also some evil horde that came to fuck up Earth like those monsters on the American side?!"
There are times when a man must fight instead of run.
For Gim Chomok, now was such a time.
Clack! Clack!
Once one man stepped forward, it was easy to step up behind him until that man died.
Together with his comrades who, faces resigned, aimed their weapons at the monster.
Ssszzak...!!
Ruthlessly plundering the nutrients from the surrounding trees and the sprouts that had emerged as the weather warmed,
the moment Gim Chomok's toes bent forward, ready to launch himself to buy even a little time,
at the sight of several people suddenly aiming their weapons, the monster scratched its head with a hollow expression.
"...Ah, I lost, I lost. Is this an ant-like social structure? No fun to be had here."
Swish! Thud!
"Ack!"
It threw the victim it had been holding toward them and sheathed its weapon.
"The somewhat spirited one has fallen, and you look like someone they need regardless of time or conditions... The rest are just chaff?"
Kahk, ptooey—!!
"Ah, what a waste of a day! Next time, at least come back strong enough to self-destruct like ants!"
The fact that it was giving a detailed evaluation in the middle of all this was an infuriating attitude to say the least.
Gim Chomok watched his opponent slowly walk back toward the gate from which it had emerged, spitting on the ground.
"...What, it's just leaving...? I'm an ant? ...Hey! Where... mmph!!"
He had opened his mouth to hurl a string of profanities at the "oversized son of a bitch" that had trampled his pure heart, but...
"...Agh, my whole body hurts. Shut up! What if that crazy tank changes its mind and comes back!!"
"Mmph! Mmph!!"
"Shut up before I iron your lips to the roof of your mouth! Let's get the hell out of here, you crazy bastard!"
The pitiful young man who had taken a swing with fire yet dealt no damage, taken a punch to the gut and captured.
Private Jeong Ilhwan, who was exceptionally good at playing dead, prevented the explosion of a human grenade whose blood pressure had gone through the roof, and
Korea's first encounter with an intelligent species ended with three victims.
Flailing...
"This won't do. We need to beat him up first, then take him to the medic and ask them to patch him up more. Hey, step on him!"
Thud! Thud! Thud!
"Aaaack, you crazy bastards! You rescued me and this is how you repay me?! Ack! I got hit in the bone! My bone!!"
No, it ended having created four victims.