Out of the Darkness
"Wait a minute!"
The president chased him out the door, calling after Han Jaejeong.
Jaejeong grimaced at the voice but forced his reluctant feet to a halt and turned around.
Lee Beom-sik, watching from afar, sensed something off and rose from the bench.
The group had gathered discreetly, mindful of eyes from the Tower.
But what the hell was this—an open scuffle with the president right in front of his house?
Beom-sik's gaze naturally drifted up to the Tower's upper floors.
And the two men's antics only grew more ridiculous.
The president shouted for him to hear him out, while Jaejeong kept insisting there was no reason to talk and turning away.
Passersby all caught the spectacle.
Ignoring it all, Jaejeong finally shook off the president's grasp and walked over to the bench where Beom-sik waited.
Beom-sik wanted to ask what the hell was going on, but they were already drawing too much attention.
The two hurried off.
Groping blindly.
Kim Chan-yeol felt around in the darkness.
All he touched was cold walls and floor.
Three days trapped here, and now he understood how they'd handled their business.
Irregular sounds of people relieving themselves echoed from all directions.
Along with the unbearable stench.
At first, he'd been puzzled.
With so many people over so many days, there should have been way more mess—yet the place was strangely clean.
The reason? Mysterious soldiers showed up now and then to clean.
Nothing fancy—just shoveling out the shit.
No water sprays, no fresh clothes, no toilet paper. Nothing humane.
Like cleaning a pigsty.
"Sergeant Choi."
Kim Chan-yeol's cracked voice, parched from the dry air, echoed off the walls.
"Yeah."
Choi Hoon's reply came back the same way.
Maybe because it was only day three, but the two were holding up decently in the pitch black.
"The squad leader will come save us, right, sir?"
"Dunno. If he was gonna, he'd be here by now. Worst-case scenario, I think."
"What's that mean, sir? The worst case."
Choi Hoon sighed heavily.
"Hah... Look, Chan-yeol. It means we've been abandoned. To them, we're just dumbasses who got captured by the enemy. Useless. Hell, we just gave the enemy a perfect excuse."
"Nah, no way. That's not the squad leader's style."
"You naive fuck. You don't know shit about the world. If I'd gotten out first like normal, I'd have sucked you dry later. Perfect mark for a con."
Choi Hoon's voice, heavy with apathy, rumbled low.
"You think too highly of me by fits and starts, sir? I might look like this here, but outside, I'm different."
"Never seen an outside hotshot who talks like you in the army."
"Jeez..."
"What? 'Jeez'? Backtalking your senior 'cause it's dark?"
"Who wouldn't snap back at that? And anyway, we're probably dying soon—what's a little lip? I didn't even curse or go full casual."
"Man, world's scary. Cut me loose the second it's over."
The two bantered away even in the dark.
A few others stirred, annoyed by the noise.
All they could do here was wallow in endless despair until sleep took them.
One look at how long they slept told you everything.
No wonder they couldn't even jump up when the lights finally came on and people arrived.
"What time is it anyway?"
"Check your watch, Sergeant Choi."
Kim Chan-yeol replied with obvious irritation.
Hurt by Choi Hoon's barbs, his tone had soured lately.
"Fuck if I know, it died. What time is it? This guy's such a pussy. Hey, how much did I look out for you as a rookie? One little thing and your lips are pouting."
"No pout here. Can't even see."
"Bet there is. I know you—it's practically touching the floor. Ugh, shit."
"God, just stop."
"No? Terror Mouth? Princess?"
"Stop it, sir?"
"Nope? Nopity nope?"
Choi Hoon sang it mockingly, and Kim Chan-yeol clammed up.
How much time passed like that?
Suddenly, Choi Hoon's words resurfaced in Kim Chan-yeol's mind.
Thinking back, it was true.
Kim Chan-yeol's service number had been a total clusterfuck from the start. Right after assignment, he learned the shocking truth: over half the company were privates first class and second class.
Meaning a ton of corporals and sergeants lined up for discharge.
The first-class privates just below them had it good—their numbers were straightening out.
Once those guys rotated out, he'd pin corporal and become a company power player.
But the endless stream of new second-class privates? Screwed.
Choi Hoon had been one of the lucky first-class privates, numbers sorted.
Kim Chan-yeol? Royally fucked.
Every day was war for him.
Mop in hand even with corporal within reach, and no replacements coming.
In that hell, then-Corporal Choi Hoon had been a goddamn beacon.
Without him, Kim Chan-yeol might've gone AWOL or worse.
His eyes welled up at the memory. He called into the dark.
"Sergeant Choi."
"What?"
"Sorry for talking back."
"Yeah, whatever. Good attitude. So, what time?"
"Two a.m."
"No wonder it's so fucking dark."
"Misheard you?"
"Nah, just dark. Day three already. Hey, but..."
That's when it happened.
Screeech! Clunk!
A door opening from the stairs, out of nowhere.
Then silence.
Choi Hoon whispered.
"What was that?"
"Dunno. Probably bringing water or food, like the doc said."
"At this hour? Two a.m.?"
"Yes, sir."
As they whispered back and forth.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Mysterious footsteps descending the stairs.
Click!
The basement lit up.
Caught off-guard, Kim Chan-yeol and Choi Hoon shielded their eyes.
The pain felt like it'd blind them.
But the voice calling them shocked them more than the sudden light.
"Sergeant Kim Chan-yeol. Sergeant Choi Hoon."
The low whisper made them slowly open their eyes.
Their squad junior stood there.
Kim Chan-yeol's eyes went wide.
"What the—how'd you get here?"
"Long story... Come out first."
The junior picked the lock with his tools and swung the door open.
The noise woke everyone.
He quickly signaled them to follow quietly.
But they didn't budge—instead, they backed away warily.
Finally getting it, Kim Chan-yeol assured them.
"He's my junior. Not dragging us off—he's here to rescue us. Follow along, it's safe."
Snapping out of their dreamlike daze, the people rallied behind the two.
First solid ground since they'd been dragged here.
Lights returned to their collapsed eyes, faces hopeful like never before.
"Everyone, follow me quietly up. We'll explain topside."
The people ascended after the junior.
A familiar face waited above.
"You okay?"
Choi Hoon nearly burst into tears at Jaejeong's worried gaze.
Thought they'd been ditched.
Ashamed of his own doubts.
Jaejeong and Kang Youngman waited right at the stairs to the basement.
"Sorry, sir..."
Choi Hoon bowed, tears brimming.
"Why you apologizing? Wasn't your fault. Glad you're in one piece. Details later—go with him."
"Squad leader not coming?"
Choi Hoon eyed Jaejeong and Youngman, who glanced toward the stairs.
"Nah, don't worry. Be right there."
The two, confused, looked back at the warehouse as they left with the junior.
No one else had emerged yet.
What the hell was going on?
13 hours earlier.
"Sorry, but your cause and ideals mean jack compared to the lives of my people locked up right now."
Jaejeong shook off the president's hand inside the house and turned to leave.
"Fine. Then let's plan their rescue."
Jaejeong froze.
"What?"
"Let's save those two lives you value more than my cause."
Jaejeong tilted his head slightly.
A total shift from moments ago.
Lightning-fast change—barely the same guy.
"Sit first. Oh, and you can come out now."
The president gestured Jaejeong to a seat, then addressed the sealed side room.
Screeech!
A familiar face emerged amid the old hinges' scream.
Hwang Jang-seong, the division commander.
"What the fu—"
Jaejeong couldn't finish.
The division commander had heard everything.
Hwang smiled and nodded, taking a seat. Jaejeong sat too, piecing it together.
The president broke the silence after glancing between them.
"When you first arrived, I was already talking with the division commander—about you and Team Leader Kang, actually. Had to stall you a bit. Don't take it personally."
"Not mad... just fucking absurd. If this was the plan, why all the yelling earlier?"
"Testing you. Whether you'd ride with us, what you'd say in a pinch. I don't know you—never crossed paths. But that chat? You're solid. No issues sharing a boat. Division commander?"
Hwang nodded.
"Agreed. I've watched him in action from the start—no objections. Just waiting on Your Excellency's doubts."
'These old bastards...'
Jaejeong's head throbbed at the pointless charade.
He clutched his aching skull.
"So, what's the play? Rescue 'em?"
"Of course. They're my soldiers."
Hwang's authoritative face continued.
"Not hard. You know my son's the squad leader? We go through him—tonight even. Issue is, we need something to distract the Tower in the meantime."
Hwang eyed the president.
The president nodded knowingly.
"We'll draw the attention. You and I head to the Tower. A fake negotiation good for a day should do. When?"
"Tonight. High-speed boats ship soldiers on corvettes tomorrow morning—gotta wrap today. Post-movement, no bandwidth for the warehouse. Then the Tower goes all-in anyway."
"...Got it."
"Detailed plans incoming. But on your way out, play along with some acting."
"Acting?"
Hidden listener, now a test—next, theater.
Fine, if it saved those two.
Jaejeong listened to the president.