Chapter 234: Un-ho
Chapter 234: Un-ho
In the corner of the hotel room, Un-ho lay shriveled up like a wrung-out rag.
“Who is Brigadier General Un-ho?”
The television… well, it was technically something else, but since Un-ho, the only one who could tell me, was currently out of commission, I decided to just call it a television.
Regardless, the television was airing a program about the career of the man who had suddenly become a ‘dark horse’—Un-ho.
“Though he is now a Brigadier General running for office, Brigadier General Un-ho’s beginnings are quite rare among high-ranking officers. That is because…”
Like all broadcast programs, they were dragging out the trivial parts.
“He started as a private. Of course, generals who rose from the ranks are more common than one might think. Research shows that about 60% of generals have experience serving as enlisted soldiers.”
It seemed the generals in this world were a bit different from those back home.
Perhaps it was similar to the U.S. military, where soldiers or NCOs receive recommendations to be commissioned as officers.
Considering they were in a constant state of war, that made sense. Or perhaps it was a strict conscription system where everyone, regardless of gender, had to enlist.
“However, Brigadier General Un-ho didn't just start as a soldier. According to the records we’ve obtained, his military aptitude test results for conscription should have actually earned him an exemption. Take a look at this data.”
…So it was a conscription system. But what? An exemption?
As I watched in surprise, the data prepared by the broadcast was magnified on the screen.
[Physical Qualities: Fail.]
[Mana Capacity: Fail.]
[Aptitude Test: Fail.]
[Magic Ability: Retest Required.]
[Remarks: Currently below minimum standards. However, in my personal opinion, a re-examination is necessary. Attaching a request for a precision scan.]
With that screen as the background, The Narrator’s voice continued.
“As you can see from the data, Brigadier General Un-ho was someone who naturally should have been exempt. In fact, his scores were so low that it wouldn't have been strange if he were a candidate for welfare policies rather than enlistment. Yet, a question remains. What did the examiner see that made them insist on a re-examination? For just one single soldier?”
Even to my eyes, that chart looked truly bizarre.
Un-ho lacked physical qualities?
Mana capacity, too?
Well, I could understand the aptitude test. He definitely didn't have the personality suited for the military.
“We contacted the military to find out more, but we were told it was internal classified information. We couldn't learn anything beyond the fact that Brigadier General Un-ho did indeed enlist.”
…Suddenly, this was getting interesting.
“Then, what was Brigadier General Un-ho’s life like in the training camp? The military again refused to answer, citing confidentiality, but we were able to secure interviews with those who trained alongside him at the time.”
Ho-oh.
I wondered what kind of mess my partner had made back then.
Just as I settled into a comfortable position, eager for the interview, I ended up laughing at the unexpected sight on the screen.
“Brigadier General Un-ho? Who’s that… Ah, you mean the failing student, White Fur.”
The person appearing on the screen was a mosaic-blurred dog…? Person?
Either way, seeing a bipedal Dog-kin Beastman with only his eyes blurred out was a scene far funnier than I could have imagined.
Even if what he was saying wasn't particularly funny.
“He was a pretty strange guy. He failed every theoretical subject, so the instructors were always sighing, and he couldn't even use the basic magic the other kids used. People often wondered how he even got enlisted.”
I already knew this, but hearing it from someone else’s mouth made it feel more real.
My partner wasn't exactly a normal existence in this world, either.
“But strangely enough, he was great at everything else. In subjects like camouflage, even the instructors couldn't find him, so he got perfect scores. He always aced physical tasks like survival training and marches, too.”
…Why the hell do they teach camouflage and survival in a basic training camp?
“The most peculiar thing? Hmm. During the final week of training, there was a combat exercise, and he got the highest score. The unit he belonged to fell into a trap right at the start, got bombarded, and was wiped out. But he survived alone and toyed with the opposition—I mean, our side. The entire team was running around trying to catch that one guy, but they couldn't catch him until the very end, and he kept taking people out right until the finish.”
Mm. Now I understood.
They might call them ‘soldiers,’ but they were being raised as combat-ready troops right from the training stage.
It probably didn't reach the level of special forces training in our world, but there were clearly some commonalities.
“Huh? Oh, how did we get beaten? There were plenty of ways. Like waking up in the middle of the night to find the headquarters blown up after a lightning strike, or him putting the sentries to sleep and sticking a piece of paper on their heads that said, ‘Un-ho was here.’ I don't know how he did it, but it was impressive. It really made us realize what guerrilla warfare was. So on the last day of training, when Un-ho was assigned to the special forces, everyone just accepted it.”
…He played partisan all by himself?
Even if it was a mock battle full of trainees, he blew up the headquarters?
As I sat there with my mouth agape, my mind reeling, a voice spoke up.
“Wow. What a nostalgic memory.”
Un-ho, who had resurrected at some point, was sitting on the table, munching on fruit again.
“Is that true?”
“Yep. One thing they got wrong was that I didn't stick paper on them; I just doodled on their faces before I left, poyo.”
Same difference…
“What exactly did you do to make that possible?”
“I just hid, poyo. I’d melt my body and stick to the walls, or change my fur color to pretend I was on their side and ask about the situation, or just sneak into the warehouse and open some canned food…”
None of that sounds normal.
…Then again, was it my fault for expecting anything normal from Un-ho?
The televi—
“By the way, what do you call that thing that looks like a TV?”
“A Video Transmitter, poyo.”
…What a terrible name.
I’ll just keep calling it a TV.
The television continued to show various interviews, but since they were all more or less the same, I turned my attention back to Un-ho.
To be honest, there was no need to listen to indirect stories when the person in question was right next to me.
“The TV mentioned it before you woke up, but your physical exam was a total mess. How did you pass?”
“Physical exam? What was that again? Hmmm…”
Since the brilliantly-memoried Un-ho seemed to have forgotten, I picked up the wooden block remote and rewound the screen.
After fiddling with it a few times, I realized it was more like a smartphone touch screen than a set of buttons, which was quite convenient once I got used to it. However, perhaps because the underlying technology was different, it didn't recognize a simple touch; it only reacted if I gathered even a tiny bit of mana at my fingertip.
Should I call it a Mana-Contact Touch?
If it required extracting even a trace amount of mana externally, I would never have been able to use it, but I felt relieved it wasn't like that as I rewound the television screen.
“I’m talking about this.”
As if reading my mind, the screen paused at the perfect scene.
Un-ho’s exam results, filled with ‘Fail’ marks, took up the whole screen.
Un-ho stared at it for a moment, looking lost in thought with a piece of fruit in one hand and a blank expression.
“Ah, I remember now, poyo.”
It took about thirty seconds before he finally spoke up.
“So, what was the deal with that?”
“Well, I went for the exam, and they made me do all sorts of things. They said I was exempt, but… if I was interested, I should go to the central unit and get a re-examination, poyo. They said there were several strange things about the test that they couldn't figure out.”
“So, instead of taking the exemption, you went to the central unit for a re-test?”
“That’s right, poyo. That’s where I first met Captain Af. Was she a Colonel or a Brigadier General back then…?”
…Honestly, did this guy get his Brigadier General rank through connections?
No, maybe ‘connections’ is the wrong word. Should I say he found a good boss? Knowing Captain Af’s personality, she wouldn't play favorites, but she was the type of person who would report Un-ho’s achievements to the higher-ups without caring about his eccentricities.
Anyway.
“So, what was the problem?”
“Well, for the physical stuff, you know, right? How my body is super flexible, poyo.”
True.
Sometimes when I hit him, he’d turn into mush and stick to The Wall, or bounce around, or even float like some kind of foam. If he couldn't recover from that, it would be one thing, but if I left him alone for a bit, he’d return to his original ferret form like some kind of shape-memory alloy.
I actually thought all mascots were like that at first, but after beating up the ones who betrayed us, I realized that while mascots have an unusually high resistance to physical impact, they didn't have bodies as free-form as Un-ho’s.
“They said that’s actually my unique magic, so my pure physical body is weak, poyo.”
…What the hell is that?
“…How do you use it?”
“I don't know, poyo? Captain Af said it’s related to my mana conversion, but the efficiency is so bad that no one but me could use it.”
This is driving me crazy.
“Then what about the mana? You have an absurd amount of it.”
He had enough mana to fully recharge Al’shel several times over when he was nearly empty. Even though he turned into a mummy as a price, considering Al’shel was a top-tier mage, it was an unbelievable amount.
Even with the significant loss that occurred because they couldn't transfer mana 1:1.
“They said most of my mana is converted into flesh, so pure mana can't be measured by normal devices, poyo.”
Ah, so it was all connected?
…I think it’s best to just stop thinking about Un-ho’s biology.
It seemed Un-ho was something that would be treated as an Anomalous Entity even among mascots.
“What did Captain Af say about that?”
“Oh, that’s my unique technique. I made it when I was little because I was hungry and wondered if I could fill my stomach with mana, poyo. Captain Af was interested when she saw the conversion efficiency, but she said if anyone else tried to use it, they’d turn into a monster made of meat unless they had body control like mine, poyo.”
…Are you actually some kind of monster from another world?
No matter how I thought about it, he should be treated as a monster, let alone a native of this world.
“The magic… well, that’s obvious. It’s because you use modified magic or the Song of Origin like you mentioned, which messed up your scores for universal magic.”
“You’re exactly right, poyo.”
While I was hearing about the past from the very subject on the screen, the television program moved on to Un-ho’s life after the training camp.
Un-ho bringing news of victory from several wars.
The sight of him receiving a medal for holding a line alone until reinforcements arrived after his unit was wiped out.
Even his military achievements in surviving battles against entities using Otherworld Erosion.
The program then moved on to why such a being had low public recognition, and the reason was soon revealed.
Because Un-ho was strictly a combat soldier who spent most of his military life on the front lines or defense lines, he had no connections with the command-track officers who were on the ‘path to success,’ resulting in almost zero recognition.
Even Captain Af, a fellow combat-type, had started stepping into command roles at some point, but the theory was that Un-ho either couldn't understand such training or simply didn't want it.
“Is that true?”
“Probably, poyo? Captain Af once recommended me for the military academy, but they eventually gave up on teaching me.”
…Yeah, that sounds like our Un-ho.
While I was marveling at Un-ho’s extraordinary nature, the television program ended by suggesting a conspiracy theory: that Un-ho was a man shrouded in mystery, and his current candidacy was actually part of some plan by Captain Af, who had been deeply involved in Un-ho’s life.
Looking at the television content alone, one might think that, but as the person actually involved, I could only let out a bitter laugh.
After all, that Captain Af was the one who had tried so hard to exile us…
However, now that such conspiracy theories were spreading, it seemed we really were going to be deeply involved in the election.
I’d have to walk the line carefully.
Enough to not get elected, but also enough to not be attacked.
“What should we do now, poyo?”
As if sensing my thoughts, Un-ho asked.
“Shall we go say hello?”
And I replied.
“To whom, poyo?”
Who else?
“To the rival candidates.”
Was it Lieutenant General Par and Captain Ronia?
Let’s go see their faces.