Died in Battle and Woke Up as a High School Girl – Straight to the Stockade
It was the acrid stench of gunpowder. The nose-stinging aroma mixed with damp earth and dust. To Captain Lee Si-woo of the Republic of Korea Army Special Warfare Command's 7th Special Forces Brigade, that smell was as familiar as everyday cologne. But today, it felt heavier than usual.
"Captain! Our retreat path is blocked! Enemy reinforcements from the south…!"
The radioman's desperate cry crackled over the radio. The air around was filled with gunfire and explosions. It was a counter-terrorism op in the deployment zone—a tragedy born from an intelligence blackout. These weren't just rebels. They were a professional mercenary group armed with heavy weapons.
"All squad members, exfil to 11 o'clock from current position. I'll cover the rear."
"But Captain!"
"That's an order, you bastards! You wanna die that bad? Move your asses now!"
Lee Si-woo gritted his teeth and swung the muzzle of his K2 rifle. Single shots pinned down the advancing enemy. He was a veteran. Senses honed through dozens of real combats were etched into every muscle fiber. But even the best soldier can't dodge hundreds of rounds forever.
He spotted his squad piling into the last armored vehicle. Good. My job's done.
Then came the dull impacts slamming into his chest. One round, two, three. The ballistic plate shattered, followed by a searing heat piercing his lungs. The metallic tang of blood overpowered the gunpowder.
'Ah, what day was payday this month?'
That was the trivial thought as he hit the ground. Should've sent some pocket money home to Mom and Dad. Should've bought the rookies another round.
Through his blurring vision, he saw a red sunset. Or was that his own blood? As consciousness faded, the last tactical doctrine flashed in Lee Si-woo's mind: A soldier must maintain discipline until the very end. But that solemn resolve soon sank into ridiculous emptiness.
"Ugh…."
A groan escaped. It was weird. The excruciating pain from the rounds through his chest was gone. Instead, he felt soft grass and warm sunlight. And tickling his nose wasn't gunpowder, but fresh floral scent.
'Is hell surprisingly comfy?'
Lee Si-woo cautiously opened his eyes. First came an impossibly blue sky. Then massive trees blotting it out, their bizarre leaves—unlike any in Korea—swaying in the breeze.
"Am I… alive?"
Hearing his own voice made his hairs stand on end. It wasn't his usual gruff baritone. It was clear, pure, and oddly girlish—youthful.
"What the hell? Why's my voice like this?"
Startled, he tried to sit up—and froze in shock again. His body felt too light. No, short. Gone was his 180cm frame; his viewpoint was noticeably lower. Panicking, he looked down at his hands. The callused, rough paws were vanished. In their place: pale, slender fingers, like those of a pampered noble lady.
"No fucking way…."
Luckily, a clear puddle was nearby. He crawled to it almost on all fours. Staring back from the water was a stunning black-haired beauty with long, rippling obsidian locks. Big eyes, pert nose, cherry lips. Dressed in a school uniform, she was the picture of a high school girl.
"This is… me?"
Lee Si-woo pinched his cheek hard. It hurt. Not a dream. He groped his body again. Unfamiliar weight on his chest, absence between his legs. Republic of Korea Special Forces Captain Lee Si-woo clutched his head right there.
This was stockade-worthy. No, not even the stockade could fix this. Gender swapped, age regressed, and the world itself changed. As a soldier, what bigger mission failure was there?
Suitable soul detected.
Synchronization rate: 100%. Reconstructing user 'Lee Si-woo' data.
"Isia…? My name's Isia now? And what's with the rank? I'm a captain! Special Forces captain!"
He jabbed at the air, but the system stayed silent. One thing was clear: He was now the beauty named Isia, dropped into another world.
Lee Si-woo—no, Isia—quickly assessed the situation. A Special Forces officer's trained mind found efficiency even in panic.
Terrain: Unknown forest. Climate: Temperate, estimated. Armament: None.
"Whew, need gear first…."
She patted her waist. No combat knife, no pistol. This frail body couldn't even catch a rabbit.
Then the system window flashed again.
Initial supply drop arrived. Receive?
"Supplies! Hell yes, receive!"
A heavy object thudded from the air. Instinctively, Isia caught it. Cold, hefty metal in her palm. Familiar weight.
"This is… K5 Pistol?"
ROK standard sidearm. Isia's eyes lit up. Not a rifle, but in this alien world, it was her only reliable ally.
◈ K5 Pistol x1
◈ 9mm Parabellum Magazines x2 (26 rounds)
◈ Multi-Purpose Combat Knife (6-inch) x1
"Good, basic self-defense secured."
Isia expertly checked the mags. Full of shiny silver rounds. She racked the slide, chambering one with a satisfying click echoing through the forest.
But peace didn't last.
Rustle—!
Bushes behind her shook. Isia spun, pistol in perfect isosceles stance. Slender high school arms, but shoulders and elbows locked like her captain days.
From the foliage emerged massive wolves. One, two… three. Bigger than any normal wolf—calf-sized, eyes glowing eerily.
"Gray Wolves? Nah, monsters."
The pack growled, encircling her. To them, the small girl was easy prey.
"Hey, you wolf bastards."
A chill smile curved Isia's lips. Black hair fluttered. Her stunning beauty clashed with the blood-soaked killer's aura from countless battlefields.
"I'm back in the army, y'know? And I'm in a shitty mood right now."
The lead wolf lunged, jaws aiming for her neck. Any typical isekai girl would've screamed and collapsed. Isia didn't blink.
Bang—!
A crisp crack split the forest. A neat hole punched the airborne wolf's forehead. Brain destroyed, it crashed at her feet without a yelp.
"One down."
The other two hesitated. Hunger won over fear; they charged from both flanks.
Isia sidestepped calmly. The girl's body was surprisingly agile. Twisting left, she fanned the trigger while drifting.
Bang, bang—!
"Grrraaah!"
Rounds tore into the left wolf's shoulder and chest. As it staggered, Isia whipped the muzzle right, sighting the last.
It swiped with a paw; she ducked, shoving the barrel into its maw.
"Bye."
Bang—!
The wolf's skull exploded, blood splattering Isia's black hair. All over in under five seconds. Three monster corpses.
Isia didn't blow on the hot barrel or smirk in triumph. Habitually, she checked remaining ammo and safetied the pistol.
Enemy entities (Gray Wolf) x3 eliminated.
Acquired 30 TC.
First combat victory bonus: Combat Ration Type 1 x3 packs issued.
"Combat Rations…? Type 1?"
Three cardboard boxes dropped before her. Familiar olive drab packaging. Gochujang bibimbap and beef stir-fry—the same damn stuff.
"Ha… this really is the army."
Isia glanced at her bloodied hands. Isekai, high school girl, pistol. Daunting road ahead, but she grabbed a ration pack. Stomach growling. A soldier can't fight on an empty gut.
"Eat first, think later. Private Isia, here we go."
The black-haired beauty, amid wolf corpses in the forest heart, tore open a bibimbap pouch with practiced ease. Thus began her otherworld peacekeeping op, amid the scent of combat rations.