I Can Read Minds

"Congratulations on your promotion, Lieutenant Jäger."

The regimental commander pinned the insignia to my shoulder with his own hands.

The single diamond that had gleamed in silver was now two, shining side by side.

"The valor and ingenuity you displayed in the recapture operation have become a model for the entire Imperial Army. Accordingly, you are hereby awarded the Imperial Iron Cross."

"Sir!"

I snapped off a crisp salute with a short, loud bark.

The moment the ceremony ended, my comrades swarmed around me like a hive of bees.

"Hey, Max Jäger! A lieutenant now, huh? Don't you think you owe us a proper round of drinks?"

"Second Lieutenant just six months ago, and now he's a First Lieutenant? That's absurdly fast promotion! This guy's going to be a living legend!"

"If it weren't for him in that valley, we'd all be dead. Who would've guessed he'd blow up a mortar nest single-handedly?"

Voices thick with praise and envy closed in on me from every side. Shoulders clapped, chatter overlapping until my head throbbed. I forced a laugh and waved my hands.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Alright, alright, I get it. Let's catch up later. I'm exhausted—turning in early."

Only once I escaped the noisy din did my ears finally find peace.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

Before I knew it, I had arrived in front of my barracks. The moment I pushed open the creaking door and stepped inside, the tension drained from my body. I sank into a chair and fiddled with the newly minted first lieutenant insignia. The cold touch of the metal. It felt as if I could hear my comrades' envy and admiration all over again.

A model for the entire Imperial Army, huh.

A hollow laugh escaped me. Model my ass.

I closed my eyes, and the artillery duel in the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠valley from five days ago unfolded before me all over again.

Shhhiiiii—!

A mortar round burst right beside me with a shriek that tore at my eardrums. Dirt and rock shards rained down like hail, and the shockwave slammed through my whole body. When I came back to my senses, the lower half of the comrade next to me was simply gone.

My heart went mad against a skull-splitting ring in my ears. I was on the verge of freezing solid, spiraling into panic—

The dry system message echoed through my head, and just like that, the terror receding from me might as well have been a lie. My heartbeat steadied, and reason returned. I hauled myself upright and aimed my muzzle at the mortar position.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

And that was how I brought the mortar nest down.

I opened my eyes slowly. My fingertips still trembled faintly even now, but with that sensation of ice water being dumped over my brain, calm always came quickly. All of it was thanks to this thing called a skill.

Until six months ago, I had been an ordinary civilian living in Seoul. Worse—an overworked contract worker ground down by harassment ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and endless overtime. Naturally, I knew nothing of war or combat; everything I knew came from my mandatory military service. How I ended up in this position came down to a single game—the game I had clung to in order to forget my miserable reality.

Heart of the Empire: Eagle Chronicles.

A 20th-century-styled strategy simulation featuring otherworldly races like orcs and elves, and magic—but its true backbone was trenches, barbed wire, and shells falling like rain. I was obsessed with that game. Hundreds of hours in it, no, thousands. In reality I was a nobody, but within the game I was a master commander who led countless battles to victory.

But that only lasts so long. I'd long since picked the vanilla game clean to the bone. I needed new stimulation. And then, tucked away in the corner of some nameless overseas forum, I stumbled upon a strange file.

"Damn it... that damn mod."

Yes—downloading that all-in-one pack was the root of it all. Even the title was suspicious: Harem Overload All-in-One Mod.

Something insane like this: it replaces the drab, blood-soaked battlefield with steamy romance between gorgeous female officers. That night, too, I'd come home late, crushed under overtime. I'd choked down a convenience store lunch box and was pleasantly tipsy off the can of beer I'd downed on impulse. Who knows what I was thinking, but I absentmindedly installed the mod file.

With eyes half-closed from exhaustion, I clicked the 'New Game' button. That was the moment. The last thing I remember is a flash erupting from my monitor swallowing the entire world in white.

And when I opened my eyes again, I was no longer the me of my one-room studio apartment. A barracks at a dusty field training ground. Wearing an unfamiliar uniform, I had become an Imperial Army second lieutenant named Max Jäger.

The price of wanting to flee my miserable reality was far too cruel. Call it a forced career change from a hellish reality to an even more hellish one. A second stint of military life—there could be no more nightmarish dream than this.

God damn it, how is this supposed to make any sense?

I clutched my head. I'd honestly rather it all just be a dream. I wanted to throw everything away and run.

...Should I just desert?

It was the kind of situation that made irritation boil up, but the skill steered my mind back toward its most effective mode of thought.

Desertion is irrational.

Under the skill's influence, a clear conclusion formed in my head.

If I desert and get caught, I'm shot. Even if I somehow manage to hide, I become a fugitive for life.

The odds of evading the Imperial Army's pursuit and the gunfire of a war while living a normal life were vanishingly slim. The way to maximize my survival probability was to remain in this army and make full use of the power I'd been given—the skills. Ironically, that is.

"Skills."

Exhaling a sigh at the conclusion that had been forced into my head, I called out for my skills. A window visible only to me floated up like a hologram.

Fortunately, the Harem Overload All-in-One Mod apparently operated in cheat mode, because it had granted me broken abilities from the very start: Strong Mind and Minimap—the two skills I currently possessed. The first skill was always fixed as Minimap, while Strong Mind I'd earned from a level-up reward for completing some training particularly well.

Then it happened.

With a clear ding—, another translucent window floated up.

Huh...?

So leveling up was possible even through promotion? When I'd gone from 1 to 2, it had clearly been a success reward for training. But promotion had raised my level too—it seemed there were more ways to level up than I'd thought. There hadn't even been a choice last time.

In any case, I began reading through the skill descriptions slowly. Both Bullet Time and Status Analysis looked enormously useful.

First, Bullet Time.

A cheat-tier ability that, as the name suggested, let you dodge bullets. It could drastically raise my survival odds on tomorrow's battlefield. For a soldier who rolled through battlefields firsthand, there was no sweeter temptation.

But...

I shifted my gaze to the second skill, Status Analysis.

Survival on the battlefield. Of course that mattered—nothing was more important than my life. But Bullet Time was, in the end, crisis avoidance, closer to a one-time insurance policy. Once a day, a mere three seconds. Getting through that brief instant wouldn't change the tide of a battle.

...Besides, it's practically useless in a situation where mortals shells are raining down.

I recalled the last battle—shells continuously blanketing a wide area. In a situation like that, even with Bullet Time, I most likely wouldn't have survived.

Status Analysis, however, was different. It granted information dominance that went beyond simple survival. And it was persistent. With information, I could preemptively defuse dozens, hundreds of crises. The choice that raised long-term survival odds was unmistakably the latter.

My hesitation gone, I reached out toward the translucent window floating in the air.

With a soft ding—, knowledge of the skill poured into my mind. As if I had been using it for years, I understood how to wield it naturally.

Let's test it out.

I turned my gaze to my own uniform.

Oh-ho.

Pretty intuitive and detailed. Next, I used the skill on myself.

Handy. I'll probably see even more as the level rises.

Then it happened.

A green dot on the minimap floating in the corner of my vision began to move.

The Minimap. Think of the minimap from an ordinary strategy game—a square background with dots distinguished in green and red displayed in real time. A green dot approaching meant an ally was headed my way.

Knock knock knock.

"First Lieutenant! I-It's Private Erich, sir!"

A youthful voice. Instead of answering, I smiled slyly and activated the skill. Fixing my gaze on the firmly shut wooden door, the information beyond it spread out before my eyes.

...It even shows me this?

I swallowed for a moment. I hadn't expected it to reveal what was going on inside someone's head.

"What's all the racket about?"

Doing my best to sound indifferent, I rose from my seat. When I opened the door, Private Erich stood rigidly at attention, his face taut with nerves.

"You need to come out right away, sir. Someone is looking for you."

"Me? Who?"

Erich swallowed dryly before answering.

"Captain Serafina, sir."

Oh no. That mad—!

Wasn't she the new company commander I'd heard was arriving?

I immediately pulled my uniform back on. As fast as possible, but with every crease set precisely. Once I confirmed that even my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cap sat perfectly, I opened the door right away.

Then I walked down the corridor. 'Walked' was generous, though—I was moving at nearly a dead sprint.