Final Leave: Heading Home!
Departure for discharge leave! The day he set off on his final leave from the army.
Seo Joo-hwan woke up before the morning wake-up song even played. If he sprang out of bed quickly just for an overnight pass, how much more for discharge leave? Even though he'd stood watch, come back, and gone to sleep late, his eyes snapped open bright and early.
He quickly tidied his spot and changed clothes. Only after all his preparations were done did the wake-up song finally blare out. With an excited face, he headed to the duty officer.
"Oh, Seo Joo-hwan's here."
"Steel. Am I the first?"
"Yeah. You got here fast."
The other guys on leave arrived soon after. Everyone was equally eager to get the hell out.
"All corporals, huh? You three are batchmates, right?"
"Yes, sir!"
The other two answered in loud voices. That's when he remembered—they were his batchmates. And with that came another memory.
Ah, Bitcoin!
These two batchmates of his had taken a massive hit on Bitcoin around this time. It was such a famous incident in the unit that he remembered it crystal clear.
That's right, it skyrocketed around now, didn't it?
An unexpected opportunity to make a quick fortune popped into his head at the most random moment.
The duty officer looked at the three of them. "You're all corporals, so no need for the usual briefing, right?"
""Yes, sir!""
The three corporals bellowed in unison. Why bother with the rote education? Corporals knew it all by heart anyway. Of course, his memories from ten years in the future were a bit fuzzy after regression, but he had zero interest in sitting through it.
The three on leave headed to the command center with the duty officer. Jeong So-ra was there, looking refreshed unlike earlier—no more dark circles under her eyes. They were completely gone, thanks to the item's solid effect.
She mouthed silently, Thanks.
Then let us go quick, Seo Joo-hwan mouthed back.
The other two on leave stared at Jeong So-ra with tense eyes. She was infamous for her strict FM principles, always delaying leaves. But today was an exception.
"No accidents while you're out, got it?"
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Alright, off you go."
"...Pardon?"
The two others blankly echoed her. Only Seo Joo-hwan barked back immediately.
"Yes, ma'am!"
The other two looked confused, like they couldn't believe it was already over. Jeong So-ra grinned mischievously at them.
"What're you waiting for? Don't you guys wanna go on leave?"
"N-no, ma'am!"
"Thank you, ma'am!"
Only then did they snap to attention and respond vigorously. Seo Joo-hwan saluted the smiling Jeong So-ra.
"Steel, off on leave!"
Finally, discharge leave.
*
"Have a safe trip, guys. No screw-ups."
"Yes, sir! Thank you!"
The duty officer dropped them off with those words. Seo Joo-hwan saluted and bolted for the intercity bus terminal. He'd almost forgotten—the buses at this hour were tricky; miss it, and he'd wait a full hour.
Good thing it came to him on the way here. At the ticketing machine, he frowned.
"Damn, they blocked this too."
A "Out of Service" sticker was over the card slot. He ripped it off without hesitation and shoved his card in.
Out of service my ass.
It worked perfectly fine. Just some bullshit from the operators to dodge card fees. Might fool a clueless private, but not him.
Seo Joo-hwan printed his ticket fast and boarded just in time.
Finally heading home!
The thought of going home after so long had his heart racing. Before regression, he'd stayed away from home for years after moving out, scared he'd bring his bad luck curse with him.
This life, I'll do right by them. Proper filial piety.
So, how exactly? Most parents say, "Just stay healthy and happy—that's filial piety." His parents were the same.
But Seo Joo-hwan thought differently. Health was for yourself. Calling that filial piety felt iffy.
First things first: make money.
Maybe materialistic, but after living past thirty, he knew few things beat money. It wasn't everything, sure, but material abundance paved the way for a rich heart.
And as a regressor with foreknowledge...
In that sense, let's check the account balance first. Use it as seed money for Bitcoin, then scoop up those stocks that'll moon later...
He knew exactly how to rake it in.
***
Four hours later, Seo Joo-hwan arrived at Dongseoul Terminal.
"Whoa... hits the nostalgia."
Dongseoul Terminal always crawled with soldiers. As a private or PFC, you'd sigh at the seniors and corporals, wondering when your discharge would come. As a corporal leading a squad, you'd puff up with pride at your green chevrons. Then as a full corporal nearing the end, everyone else looked pathetic and pitiful.
"Hindsight's always 20/20, though."
Classic emotions for any Korean guy who'd done his service. Ironic that he'd ended up back in that time anyway.
Savoring the long-lost Dongseoul Terminal vibes only lasted a moment. He headed for the subway station. Still over an hour to his destination.
"The next stop is Cheolsan Station. Exit on the right."
Lost in thought on the subway, he arrived before he knew it. But he wasn't heading straight home. His feet took him toward a high school near city hall—specifically, the snack bar in front.
Seo Family Snack Bar
The shop was named that because the whole family—Dad, him, his little sister, even Mom—were all Seos.
Inside, he spotted his parents in the thick of cooking. Seeing their faces after years, Seo Joo-hwan couldn't help but shout without thinking.
"Mom, Dad! I'm home!"
His mom and dad, recognizing his voice, whipped their heads up in shock.
"S-son?"
"Joo-hwan?"
Their eyes went wide like they'd seen a ghost. Dad, Seo Jae-pil, mid-chopping onions, rubbed his eyes, then tears streamed down as he rushed to the sink to splash water on his face.
Mom, Seo Ae-ra, still stunned, approached him. "You're really my son? How're you here?"
"How? On leave."
"Aigoo, son. You should've said you were coming on leave."
"Uh... didn't I mention it last call?"
"You didn't, did you, son?"
Seo Joo-hwan scratched his eye corner with an awkward smile. Guess he'd blanked on telling them.
Then another familiar voice chimed in.
"Huh? Wait, is that oppa?"
"Yo, sis. Been good?"
It was his little sister. She looked just as shocked as their parents.
"For real, oppa? Why're you here?"
"Discharge leave."
"Yeah, I can see that. But why here..."
"Seo Joo-hee! Didn't I tell you to speak properly to your brother? What're you saying?"
"Aish, seriously. You had to hear that?"
Seo Joo-hee plugged her ears with a headachey face, forgetting mid-convo as she grumbled into the shop. In her place, another girl followed, arms shooting up in cheer.
"Yah-hoo! Hwan oppa, long time no see! You lost weight? Must've suffered in the army!"
Seo Joo-hwan froze for a second. Seeing her brought back the past. He shook his head once, then smiled and greeted her.
"Yeah, long time. Su-ah. You been well?"
"Nope! Senior year is killing me! Hiiing~."
This bubbly girl was Han Su-ah. More little-sister-like than his actual sister, she was his one and only childhood friend. And at the same time...
This time, I won't let you die.
His deepest trauma.
*
Seo Ae-ra asked curiously, "But son, why'd you come without even changing clothes?"
"Missed you and Dad."
"Eh?"
Seo Ae-ra blinked in surprise at her cheeky son's reply. It wasn't his usual style—he'd always been a bit cold and stiff. Such warmth? She had no idea about the regression, so it floored her.
Meanwhile, Seo Joo-hee next to her fake-gagged like she'd seen something gross.
"Urk. Ate something bad?"
"Ool. Hwan oppa's gone sweet."
"That?"
Ignoring his two little sisters, Seo Joo-hwan told Seo Ae-ra, "Rushed straight here, haven't eaten. Starving. Food, please, Mom."
Seo Ae-ra's eyes went wide again. Looked like today was full of forehead wrinkles for her. Not just her—Seo Joo-hee and Han Su-ah stopped bantering, equally shocked.
"Whoa, that hungry? You hated snack bar food. Mom, feed us quick!"
"Hwan oppa finally gets the glory of tteokbokki? My rec's rabokki!"
Weird reaction just for a meal. Seo Joo-hwan smiled wryly and shrugged.
In his past life, he'd avoided the shop to not jinx it with his curse. He'd even hidden from classmates that his parents ran it. Seo Joo-hee and Han Su-ah knew, but pretended otherwise so casually—grateful for that.
"Then rabokki like Su-ah said? With two boiled eggs on top."
"I'll take mixed fritters."
"Auntie Ae-ra, oden for me. Let's share everything!"
"Y-yeah. Honey! Joo-hwan's eating, make it tasty!"
Dad's shoulders shook once at that, then the chopping sounds ramped up loud.
Watching his dad's back with a hint of worry, Han Su-ah piped up.
"Hwan oppa, you grew taller?"
"Hm? Oh, height. Yeah, a bit. Shot up suddenly lately."
"Knew it. Felt harder to look up at you than usual."
"Huh? Isn't our Su-ah always struggling to look up at anyone?"
"Ughh. That's why I said more than usual."
"I meant, was there even room for a steeper angle?"
"Grr. Joo-hee, you!"
Han Su-ah glared at Seo Joo-hee for the tease, but sadly, her egg-shaped 149cm frame's glare was zero threat—like an angry chick. Seo Joo-hwan chuckled along, then switched topics under her "how dare you laugh too" stare.
"Anyway, why're you two at school?"
Meant to deflect, but now he was genuinely curious. It was January 14th—winter break was still on.
The bickering duo froze, then sighed deeply in sync.
"Life is definitely a tragedy..."
"God gave humans freedom, so why're we locked in the prison called school?"
What the hell? As he stared baffled, Seo Ae-ra chuckled and explained.
"They're third-years starting this year. Seniors have to come to school even in break to study."
"Aha. Wait, forced for seniors? Wasn't like that in my day."
When he'd been a senior, only volunteers showed up—like a study hall. Top students got elite classes too.
Seo Ae-ra answered again. The two sisters slumped over the table, pretending not to hear.
"Perms and dye jobs caught 'em. Told 'em to hold off till break, but they went ahead and boom—busted."
"Pfft. And you just let it slide? Could've called the parents to smooth it."
"Eh? Why would I? They skip cram school, slack on studies—school in break sounds perfect. Su-ah's folks too."
Seo Joo-hwan and Han Su-ah's parents were tight. Neighbors for over twenty years—natural. He could picture the two parents' sly grins.
"Tch. Mom's the worst."
"Yeah. My mom's the worst too."
The two mumbled from their table slump.