Discharge
A cafe in Incheon. I was sitting across from a man who looked to be in his early forties.
"Hello. I'm Hwang Byeong-il from All Day Guard."
"Hello. I'm Gong In-bae."
"Thank you so much for taking the time to meet with me."
"Not at all. Thank you for coming all this way."
The man treated me with utmost politeness. Short hair, deeply tanned skin, a heavily muscled frame hidden beneath his sharp suit, and hands thick with calluses. He was clearly ex-military.
"Your discharge is just around the corner, isn't it? Congratulations in advance."
"Ah, yes. Thank you."
"To get straight to the point, the reason I contacted you is because we would love to recruit you, Sergeant Gong, to our company."
"Me?"
"Yes."
"Why me?"
"We've heard outstanding things about your capabilities. We are very eager to bring you on board."
"I'm just an ordinary soldier."
"Graduated top of your class at the Special Warfare School. Deployed for two years, served as an instructor in the Congo. Fluent in both English and French. Recipient of multiple medals and commendations. That is by no means an 'ordinary' record. Most people can't achieve even one of those things."
"I was just lucky."
"I don't believe in luck when it comes to achievements like that. And even if it were luck, what of it? Why not bring that good fortune over to All Day Guard and see what we can build together?"
"What kind of company is All Day Guard?"
The impression I got from Hwang Byeong-il wasn't bad, so I decided to ask about his company.
"Ah, my apologies. I was so eager to recruit you that I forgot to introduce the company first. We are a private security firm that deals exclusively with domestic and international VIPs. We primarily handle protection for corporate executives, celebrities, and sports stars."
"Don't those kinds of people usually have their own personal bodyguards?"
"Of course. Most of them do. But look at it this way. When a foreign VIP visits Korea, they naturally bring their own security detail. But can those foreign bodyguards navigate Korea effectively? They can handle close protection, but they need to collaborate with a local agency for route planning, advance site surveys, communications, and emergency medical contingencies. Unfortunately, people who can bridge that gap are incredibly rare."
"Can't they just hire a translator?"
"At the core, the role requires someone who can handle both security and foreign languages simultaneously. Some agencies try to use interpreters, but because the interpreters don't understand tactical security movements, communication breakdowns happen constantly. There are some physical education majors who speak foreign languages, but they don't quite meet our standards either. Security isn't about fighting, after all. It's about protection."
"I'm a bit lacking in that area myself."
"If you join us, you'll undergo a mandatory four-week security training program. Based on our data, veterans from special forces units adapt and absorb the training remarkably fast."
"Is that so?"
"At All Day Guard, we want to bring you on at the team leader level. We truly need you, Sergeant Gong."
"Pardon? A team leader? I don't have any experience in this field."
"We've mapped out a six-month plan. After one month of training, you'll serve as the Deputy Team Leader of our Alpha Team—which is widely considered the best team in our company—for five months. After that, we intend to have you branch off and form your own team immediately."
"I still don't quite understand why you're going to such lengths for me."
There was no such thing as a free lunch in this world. They had to be trying to squeeze something out of me.
"There's no hidden motive. The person who recommended you gave a glowing endorsement, and looking over your resume, you're exactly the kind of talent our company desperately needs. We're simply being greedy."
"May I ask who recommended me?"
"I'd love to tell you, but they specifically requested to remain anonymous if possible."
"I see... May I think about it and get back to you?"
"Of course. Here is my business card. I'm on call twenty-four hours a day, so please feel free to reach out whenever you like. I'll always be happy to take your call."
"Haha. I have at least some basic manners. I'll make sure to call during daylight hours."
"Haha. In that case, I'll be even happier to receive it."
With only a month left until my discharge, I received offers from various places.
As for Seo Dae-hun, I had warned him repeatedly not to do anything reckless. I told him that if he was going to pull something, he had to let me know beforehand. He had to report his plans to me so I could decide whether to help him or not.
Formulating a plan required information. Gathering that information was harder than it looked. Filtering the gathered information was even harder. And planning and executing an operation based on that filtered information was an absolute nightmare.
I told him that if gathering information alone was too difficult, he could hire someone, but that very hireling could end up getting him killed. I hammered it into his head several times that if he casually hired a private investigator to do a background check, he'd end up stabbed before he could even draw his own blade.
After all, the networks in that world were all interconnected. The moment he walked into a private investigator's office and said, "Investigate the Geumho-pa for me," he might find himself stuffed inside a concrete drum by nightfall.
Looking at Dae-hun's plan would tell me everything about his state of mind. How he planned to get in, how he planned to get out, who his targets were, how he would clean up the aftermath, and with what level of resolve he had conceived the operation. I would be able to tell instantly.
That was why I wanted to review his plan before deciding whether to help him or stop him. My only friend was walking into the lion's den; the least I could do was make sure he came out alive.
Ah, that day at the chicken joint, Dae-hun had said:
"If I die, make sure you're the one who handles my funeral."
"Why the hell would you die, you crazy bastard?"
"It'd be nice to have my only friend send me off on my final journey. It's not like there's anyone else to do it anyway."
"Are we really friends?"
I had carefully asked the question I wanted to ask ever since our days at the Special Warfare School but never had the courage to.
"If we're not friends, what are we? Lovers? Should we start dating, you gay bastard?"
It might have just been casual banter, but it made me feel strangely good.
The word friend.
The first friend I had ever made in my twenty-four years of life.
They say that out in the real world, it's common to get stabbed in the back by someone you've known for twenty-four years.
In that case, taking a hit alongside a friend of my own accord wouldn't be so hard. I could handle that much.
I instructed Dae-hun to gather information in as much detail as humanly possible. How many members the Geumho-pa had, where they primarily operated, how their funds were distributed and laundered—I told him to find out everything down to whether they ate pork cutlets or spicy stir-fried pork for lunch, and whether they ordered an extra bowl of rice.
Then, based on that data, I told him to draft a plan on how to tear the Geumho-pa apart.
Only then did Dae-hun look like he had found a lifeline, eagerly jotting down my words. It seemed he had finally grasped the Seoul National University style of education. I felt a swell of pride.
As for the NIS, although I had rejected them outright, a part of me still felt a sudden urge to go.
Setting aside the invisible, lofty pretext of serving the nation, the sheer title of being an NIS agent was highly tempting. To be honest, I felt a bit guilty about hitching a free ride on the reputation built by the loyalty of other agents, but the name of the National Intelligence Service carried immense weight.
How cool would it be to have "National Intelligence Service" printed on a business card?
Wait. Speaking of business cards...
Those bastards carried cards that said "Haegwang Corporation," not the NIS.
And didn't they say that black ops agents couldn't even tell people they worked for the NIS?
That meant I would just be an employee of Haegwang Corporation.
...Never mind.
All Day Guard, on the other hand, was a completely new field.
Security.
Hwang Byeong-il had said they needed me, but I didn't know how much help I would actually be, and the burden of having to undergo training all over again weighed on me. The team leader position was daunting too.
But I was curious about the field of security.
Protecting and defending someone, rather than attacking and killing an enemy, felt somewhat noble. It felt a bit like being a hero, as cringey as that sounded.
And above all, the words "we need you" had a powerful pull.
I had never been a needed person anywhere.
I wasn't even an unneeded person. I was simply a ghost. An invisible man.
Whether I was there or not, nobody cared. But now, someone was telling me they needed me.
It made me feel like I was someone important.
The thrill of a new challenge also set my heart racing. Guarding different people instead of facing the same routine every day felt fresh. Protecting clients under different conditions, in different environments, with different variables.
There would never be a dull moment.
It sounded like it could be fun.
Let's take a little more time to decide. I still had time left before my discharge.
"Sergeant Gong In-bae reports his discharge from active duty as of this day, sir!"
"You've worked hard. Keep in touch often, even after you leave."
I was delivering a brief discharge report to the commander in the International Peace Support Group commander's office. The commander patted my shoulder with a warm, benevolent expression, telling me to stay in touch.
I had never contacted him while on active duty; wouldn't it be weirder to start calling him after being discharged?
But as always, my mouth spoke the exact opposite of my thoughts.
"Yes, sir. Understood. I will keep in touch."
"Are you sure you don't want to apply for career service even now? Think about it one more time."
"I'm being discharged today, sir. Isn't everything already finalized?"
"Changing something like this is a piece of cake. I can easily handle that much for you. Shall I call Headquarters?"
"Haha. No, thank you, sir."
No thank you, you son of a bitch. Telling a soldier who is literally leaving today to sign his life away and stay in the barracks forever. What a cruel bastard. Mention career service one more time and I'll knock all your teeth out.
Leaving behind the people waving goodbye, I quietly walked out of the base.
My mind was a tangled mess.
I remembered when I first transferred to this unit four years ago. I had been a mere child back then, but now, I felt like I had grown up a bit.
It had only been four years, but it felt like the four years of military service had completely made up for the twenty years of my life where I had failed to grow.
On a day like today, there was one place I absolutely had to go.
I hailed a taxi.
"To the National Cemetery, please."
The moment their names came into view on the polished marble, tears began to stream down my face.
I shouldn't be doing this.
Today was a day to be congratulated.
I had come to show them that I had been discharged safely, without a single scratch, all thanks to them, and to ask them to praise me.
That was the mood I had come with, but the moment I saw their names, the dam broke.
"Congratulate me. Today is my discharge day. I'm a civilian now. *Sniff.*"
"If you guys were still here, I would have applied for career service without a second thought. But the military without you was just too cold."
"I'm still wearing thermal underwear even now. Funny, isn't it? I never used to wear them even in the dead of winter."
I pulled out the alcohol, fruit, and flowers I had prepared from my Inventory and carefully arranged them in front of my brothers' gravestones.
"Eat up. I prepared all your favorites."
"Must be nice. You guys are still together, right?"
"I want to be with you guys too... is there any way?"
"It might be cold down there, but it feels like it would be warm."
"It was always warm when I was with you."
I lay down on the cold October grass of the National Cemetery.
A chilly draft seeped through my back. Yet, strangely, I felt a faint, comforting warmth.
"The bastard who made you like this... I ground him into dust."
"That piece of shit didn't deserve to remain on this earth even as dust. So I erased him completely."
"I'm going to erase his very name from existence. That's why I don't even speak it. It's a name that deserves to be utterly obliterated."
"I'm sorry I came so late."
"I wanted to come the moment I returned, but I couldn't find the courage to face you."
"My mind was too messy back then."
"But seeing you like this makes me feel so good. I'll come often."
I spent the entire day lying on the grass of the National Cemetery, muttering to myself.
Words that no living soul could understand.
But words that my brothers surely understood perfectly.
And just like that, my military life came to an end.