Morning Roll Call and the Dreaded "Juntae" Training
Morning roll call. An officer with exhaustion caked thick around her eyes dropped a bombshell.
"Combat readiness drill tomorrow."
Combat readiness.
Three syllables that hit like a person's name—and carried just as much weight. Spelled out, it meant full combat-ready posture. In an age when Gates and monsters could erupt anywhere, anytime, it ranked among the highest-priority drills on the books.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."
"This is actually insane."
"Ugh—I hate this one the most. For real."
"I want to die."
"Can we just skip it?"
"Tell them I'm not here tomorrow."
"You know that doesn't work!"
"I have a chronic condition. Gastroenteritis."
"Gastroenteritis is chronic now?"
A wave of muttering crashed through the ranks. I knew the drill's reputation well enough myself.
Of course, combat readiness wasn't the only training we did. But this one was different from the rest in its entire approach.
An unwelcome guest that showed up whenever you'd just about forgotten it. Frequent enough to be routine, and yet endlessly, uniquely annoying.
"I'd rather go train somewhere off-base. Combat readiness is just a pain."
A senior's voice drifted over from somewhere. I agreed a hundred times over.
The hassle. That was the real problem.
You had to pull every last supply out, drag all your personal gear down from the lockers, and lay everything out in neat rows. And then what you did was… wait.
True to the name, you simply assumed a state of readiness and held it.
"The juniors are gonna get worked to death again."
"If you know that, maybe help out for once. You talk a big game, but I've never seen you actually move."
"You try being my rank. The body just doesn't listen anymore. Seriously."
"We're the same year, you know."
"Oh."
Just like the seniors in the other living quarter were saying, this drill piled a lot of work onto the juniors. Laying out and hauling supplies, locking down staging positions, relaying the situation—there was no end to the busywork.
"I really hate this…"
A junior from the other quarter muttered it under her breath.
"You can't just sit it out because you hate it. What are you gonna do? We're a forward unit. We have to run these more than anyone."
"But the officers get so ridiculously touchy… and they only take it out on the juniors. It's exhausting."
"Does being exhausted mean your service is over? Should've enlisted earlier if you didn't like it."
And because the officers treated this drill as a big deal, any junior who moved too slowly tended to catch sparks. That wasn't even the half of what made it miserable. Get hit with one right when the workday ended and you were about to rest, and you might as well call it hell. Officers and seniors alike turned razor-edged.
"As you all know, the alert could drop at any time. Stay reasonably sharp today. Actual sortie units are the exception, of course."
"What about the standby sortie units?"
"If there's no separate sortie signal, you run the drill. If a signal comes mid-drill, only that living quarter stops and deploys."
"What about the duty units?"
"Everyone except the people actually on duty runs the drill."
A chorus of groans erupted from every direction.
For the record, we were a rest living quarter. Meaning we were doing this no matter what.
"Anyway, that's it for morning roll call. Living Quarter Four starts meals today."
With that cheerful piece of news delivered, we headed back to the living quarter.
"Uuuuugh—"
Han Jihye always looked drained, but today she seemed another thirty percent more deflated. She oozed onto her bunk like some kind of soft-bodied invertebrate.
"Ah, damn it. No time for this. Let's get ready ahead of schedule."
Then she bolted upright and started rummaging through her locker, clearly planning to pack her things in advance of the drill.
"Anyone else who wants to prep, get on it. The faster we move stuff, the more comfortable the waiting is."
"She's right about that. Since when do you say sensible things?"
"Heejin. Unnie has always said sensible things. Anyway! Everyone knows the packing standard, right?"
Of course I did. I opened my own locker and checked my personal items so I could get ready too.
Notebook, pens, lotion, a comb, and so on.
The standard was simple: anything you could afford to lose if a nasty monster or Gate opened got left behind. Everything else got packed.
Following that guideline, I pulled out my bag and started loading things in.
"Harang."
"Superhuman Seo Harang?"
"You planning to stuff everything you own in there?"
"Yes. It's more than last time, but…"
"If you put all of that in, won't it be a little much?"
But… it feels like such a waste…
"If you pack it all just because you don't want to leave it, you're the only one who suffers, you know?"
"Huh? Was it that obvious on my face?"
"Your face gives everything away even when you're sitting still."
"Ugh, I really need to practice managing my expressions. At this rate everyone's going to know exactly what I'm thinking."
"Why? The fact that everything shows on your face is what's fun about you, Seo Harang. If you got good at hiding it, I might lose interest."
Hah! If that's the case, I need to practice even harder!
If only to escape Han Jihye's clutches, I was going to have to start working on my poker face.
"Superhuman Jeong Seung-a, I have a question."
"Go ahead."
"What happens if Hero Han Jihye loses interest in Harang?"
"She'd get annoyed and mess with her even more, wouldn't she?"
Great. Scratch the expression practice. Being myself is best.
"Anyway, don't try to take all of that. Toss what you can toss. Stick it in a bag and it might break or get covered in dust for nothing."
"Ah—now that you mention it, that could happen. It's a drill. If I pack everything and something cracks or bursts, I'm finished."
"What!? It's a drill!? Hey, Seo Harang! Treat training like the real thing!"
"I should be saying that to you. Hero Han Jihye, how about you at least get up off your bunk?"
"Kim Hee-jiin!! What kind of speech ending is that? Use a proper 'da' or 'kka'!"
"I'm reporting you for hazing."
With her usual parting shot—that raising juniors was pointless—Han Jihye flopped flat on her back again.
Leaving her behind, I packed my things with a reasonable amount of flexibility.
I'd roughly finished organizing and was taking a short break when the meal-departure announcement came over the speakers. Time had slipped by without my noticing; the other living quarters had apparently all eaten already.
"Today's breakfast is… steamed egg, stuffed cucumber kimchi, braised lotus root, soybean paste stew, and black rice! Are you eating?"
"Am I eating?"
Wasn't that basically a luxurious feast? Then again, with Han Jihye's kind of money, she could afford to be picky. Short of an A++ steak showing up for breakfast, she probably wasn't touching it.
"The others won't eat either. Heejin, what about you?"
"I'll pass."
Whatever wind had been blowing through her lately, Kim Heejin—who'd been diligently eating breakfast—shook her head.
"You guys?"
"If skipping is allowed, I'd like to skip."
"Is missing the meal permitted?"
"Do what you want."
The other seniors were the same. The moment permission to skip dropped, they all declined as if they'd been waiting for it. But the food was good…
"Seung-a's eating."
"Yes."
"Byeori's not."
"Me?"
Yeon Byeori lifted her head. She was improving, but she hadn't cut the habit completely, so she was still on her phone every morning.
The fact that it was pointed in my direction was probably just my imagination. Asking about it might only poke a sleeping bear, so I decided to leave it alone.
"I'll eat."
"…For real? Seriously? What day is it today?"
"Judging by that reaction, you'd think someone just told you the world was ending. I do eat breakfast sometimes, you know."
"I've never seen it. Even when you were a junior, you'd nibble and leave most of it."
"That was then, this is now. Ah, I'm hungry. Harang, shall we?"
"Is ignoring your senior allowed? More importantly, Seung-a's not even your junior? Cold. Yun Byeori."
"As if I would. Seung-a, come with us."
"—Understood."
Jeong Seung-a rose from her seat.
Three people. A perfect number for sharing a little conversation over breakfast.
I sat down at a table with the three of them—people whose mere presence put me at ease. Maybe because so many had skipped, there was a lot of steamed egg left.
"Superhuman Yeon Byeori."
"Hm?"
"You don't usually eat breakfast, do you?"
"There's no such thing as 'usually.' I was weirdly hungry today."
"Is that so? I thought maybe you'd come to have breakfast with Harang. You've been getting close lately, haven't you?"
"That too."
Huh? Why did that feel like it was sitting wrong in my stomach?
I looked at Jeong Seung-a. The same smiling eyes as always hung on her face.
I looked at Yeon Byeori. The same easy languor as always hung on hers.
And yet a strangely sharp north wind seemed to be blowing. I rubbed my arms against the sudden chill, and Jeong Seung-a quickly shrugged out of the jersey she was wearing.
"Harang, are you cold? Want to put this on for now?"
"Ah, no. I'm fine."
"Our Seung-a. More like a mom than a direct senior."
"A mom?"
"Yeah. The way she looks after people felt like that."
Jeong Seung-a answered with a laugh. Whether it was a real one, I couldn't tell.
It should have been a comfortable atmosphere—so why wasn't it? A faint tremor ran through me as I lifted my first spoonful.
—Wheeeeeee!!
"Ah. Situation."
"Perfect timing… Harang, let's go."
"Ah! Aaa…"
I hated this reality—having to walk away from a meal that looked so good.
Not that I was refusing to go. Moving fast was the only way to finish cleanly without catching a senior's eye. You did not casually poke seniors already on edge from sirens and drills.
Unlike Yeon Byeori, who rose at her usual unhurried pace, I scrambled back to the living quarter at a run. Without even time to speak, I grabbed what I'd packed and hauled it outside.
"Oh, Harang's quick."
"This is kind of my specialty, you know. I'll finish moving everything and go pick up the supplies!"
"I'll head for the rations side."
I split off from Jeong Seung-a and hurried to collect the gear. Honestly, the annoying part was pulling supplies out, putting them back, and organizing them. Aside from that, it was a pretty simple drill.
So I took the supplies, secured the rations, and geared up.
Now we just had to wait around, and if a sortie signal came, move to the designated point. Sometimes the waiting was all there was—but the odds of that were low.
"Apprentice Awakener Lee Jeonghui! May I come in!"
"Yeah, come in."
"You should move to your assigned position now."
See? Just like that, someone from the Situation Room comes looking for you.
"Do you know where we're going and with who?"
"I-I don't know."
"And if you don't know, that's it?"
"Th-that's…!"
"Superhuman Seo Harang, I know."
My one and only junior in the whole unit. She was in a different living quarter, and between duty shifts and post-duty sleep she was hard to look after—so in situations like this, I had to step up.
Striding forward for my junior. I thought I looked pretty cool.
I recited the sortie information written beside the Guard Duty Manual. My seniors for this one were Han Jihye and Yeon Byeori. Staging point: the slightly elevated hill behind the warehouse.
We moved there quickly and sat down on the grass.
"Hey, Harang."
"Superhuman Seo Harang."
"Can I borrow your jersey for a bit?"
"My jersey? Why?"
"To spread on the ground and sit on."
I was genuinely sad. Sadder still was a reality in which I couldn't refuse.
I was already sliding the zipper down when Han Jihye snickered and gave a little wave of her hand.
"Kidding. How do you never get old no matter how much I mess with you?"
"Um… thank you…?"
"Byeori. Don't you have anything fun?"
"Am I a comedy doll Hero Han Jihye pokes for jokes? Me?"
"See? No fun. Zero fun. Haa… Kim Heejin's out for my blood, and if someone like Harang had come in as my direct junior, it would've been perfect."
Yeon Byeori, who had been quietly listening, floated a lead-in with a soft "in that case."
"Want me to say something interesting?"
"Huh? You've got something? You know I die for a good story! What is it?"
Off in the distance, officers and situation runners were bustling about. Compared to that, our side was remarkably leisurely. All we had to do was sit still and watch the situation unfold.
"I'm in debt."
"…Huh? Light? What light?"
"I'm in debt. From gambling."
"Debt as in the debt I'm thinking of? No way."
As if determined to flip a quiet scene where nothing seemed likely to happen, Yeon Byeori dropped a bomb.