End of Service, The Final Backroom Deal
The massive north gate of the Great Wall groaned open with a metallic screech.
Centuries of accumulated dust and ice walls crumbled, creating a gigantic rift. Through it poured the stench of fresh blood and the bone-chilling wind of the frozen wasteland.
Beyond the gate lay a colorless hell where even light seemed frozen. The snowfield, trampled by 5,000 boots, was a grotesque mix of dark crimson blood and dirt.
At the start of the march, the Fifth Army's chief clerk mounted his black horse and strutted at the forefront.
It was to show off his authority as escort commander to the Great Wall officials watching from the ramparts.
But the moment the Great Wall's massive silhouette faded into the blizzard, he wheeled his horse around like he'd been waiting for it.
"Damn this freezing hell! Dong-sok, stick the Iron Blood Corps in the center! Taking the front wind will freeze us solid!"
The clerk's sharp shout reached Jinhyuk's ears as smooth Korean.
Thanks to the system's forced translation. The meaning was crystal clear, but the original tones and inflections of ancient Central Plains speech smeared into noise.
Jinhyuk kept his mouth shut like a mute, trudging silently amid this brutal language barrier.
To the Central Plains folk, he was just a wild-eyed barbarian slave soldier who somehow grasped orders while muttering weird gibberish.
The clerk burrowed into the Iron Blood Corps formation in the column's center.
The Iron Blood Corps, led by imperial military veterans even with shattered dantians, formed the sturdiest barrier with their disciplined formation. The clerk sought their protection to play it safe.
His own soldiers scattered too, each huddling under factions they'd cut backroom deals with for safety.
The clerk's trusted underling Dong-sok stuck by him near the Iron Blood Corps, while grunt Wang-chil joined the Regular Corps, and Yi-pal slunk into the Black Snake Corps.
It was a pathetic insurance policy: clinging to the slaves they'd bribed for protection.
On the column's outskirts, Han Noya trudged silently amid Survival Demons like Hwang Yeong-gam and Cheong-un.
Han Noya was a long-time Great Wall veteran; even officers and low officers couldn't mess with him lightly.
Hwang Yeong-gam nodded toward Jinhyuk's Cheonrangdae while avoiding the horse's flanks as he walked beside Han Noya.
"Noya, see that crazy barbarian over there? Kang Jinhyuk. Word's spreading like wildfire among the Left Army slaves—he's the real deal. Saw it myself; he's no ordinary sly fox. Knows how to scratch where it itches, and that killing intent? Killer. Could be a solid supply line for us later."
Han Noya stared ahead, replying indifferently.
"Hwang Yeong-gam, you praising a barbarian like that? Rare. Keeping formation like that ain't common even here. If he's not just nuts, he's got potential."
Han Noya glanced at Jinhyuk on Hwang Yeong-gam's tip. To him, always hunting new trade partners or supply sources beyond the Survival Demons, Jinhyuk looked like a 'hunting dog' worth testing.
Trading beast hides or rare herbs from outside the wall for Central Plains intel or supplies—guys like Jinhyuk who bulldozed ahead without looking back could be prime assets.
Private Jo Gang was a conscript counting days to finish his five-year term and head home.
He stuck tight to Jinhyuk's Cheonrangdae to guard his escape route.
To him, those goods were bribes to blind superiors until the gate, and fees for Jinhyuk's protection in the wilds.
Jinhyuk tapped Jo Gang's cart wheels, muttering incomprehensible words.
"Jo Gang-ssi, these wheels are gonna pop. You crammed everything in, huh? Hauling this home's gonna suck."
Jinhyuk pointed between his chest and Jo Gang, miming raising a shield.
"Me. You. Protect. Guard. Okay? Just pay the fee later."
Jo Gang stared blankly at the weird words and eyes, but nodded at Jinhyuk's firm gaze and gestures.
Jo Gang's reply came to Jinhyuk as Korean.
"Yeah, fuck! Don't need words—your eyes say it. Your Cheonrangdae guards me and this cart like iron. Wanna step on home soil safe. Don't wanna get nabbed by Dong-sok or Yi-pal pricks right before discharge."
Jinhyuk smirked at him.
A man enduring five years of hell, finally heading home.
It reminded Jinhyuk of his own time as a corporal in the ROK Army.
The juniors saluting him with envy and resentment as he left the guard post.
Did those guys waving goodbye feel like he did now? Bittersweetness welled up.
That man was going home, but as a slave soldier, Jinhyuk would never shed this armor before death.
At 27, his late twenties youth pawned to this northern Great Wall, bleeding for nameless Central Plains scum—it stung worse than salt lumps.
"Jo Gang-ssi. Eat good out there, live well. Don't come back. Skip the barracks, game online like a normal guy. Don't rot here like me."
Jo Gang didn't understand, but felt the odd warmth in Jinhyuk's voice and turned away, embarrassed.
On the third day of march, when snow wolf packs pierced the dark and attacked, Jinhyuk's command shone.
Even in flesh-biting cold, Cheonrangdae's formation held firm. Jinhyuk, Beom Dal, and Doksa moved 1,300 men in perfect sync, encircling Jo Gang's cart.
While Dong-sok, Yi-pal, Wang-chil shivered behind their factions, scrambling for their lives, Jinhyuk speared a charging snow wolf's throat from the front line.
Hot blood droplets froze in the blizzard, sticking to his face, but Jinhyuk didn't blink.
Han Noya broke formation and approached Jinhyuk, watching the scene.
"Hey, barbarian."
Jinhyuk turned at the translated voice.
"Noya-nim? What is it?"
Jinhyuk spoke in Korean.
Han Noya couldn't understand the gibberish, but read the momentum and weight on Jinhyuk's spear tip clear enough.
To this Great Wall fixture and veteran, Jinhyuk was more than a mere barbarian slave.
"Watched you on Hwang Yeong-gam's rec—no exaggeration. Smart picking Jo Gang. But remember: outside the wall, scariest ain't beasts. It's envy from pricks behind you. Need to crush 'em first."
Han Noya clapped Jinhyuk's shoulder.
"Hunt a young ice wolf, bring its hide. Only that proves you're boss here. Got flame oil from Jo Gang—enough. Bring it, I'll recognize you as trade partner. Survival Demons short on volume anyway."
Jinhyuk nodded, etching the vet's advice and offer in his mind.
Han Noya's proposal weighed heavier than any system message.
Each scrap of info he gave was a lifeline in this hell.
Finally, the 4th Sector Outpost. Two days of shift handover mixed tension and relief.
In a warehouse corner, Jo Gang handed Jinhyuk a worn strongbow and quiver last.
"Hey, barbarian. Take this. Confiscated goods I stashed—great draw. Nomad make, killer feel. Perfect for sharp eyes like yours. Don't need it; back at base, busy with discharge."
"Oh, quality stuff? Thanks, old man. Live it up out there. Grab some noodle soup."
Jinhyuk tested the string. The taut tension bit into his fingers—good.
Two days post-assignment, Jo Gang's relief shift departed with the previous crew.
Carts once loaded with supplies, goods, rations now stacked previous shift corpses, heavy wounded, walking wounded.
Back at base, paperwork done—he'd finally go home.
From the receding cart, Jo Gang gazed at Jinhyuk on the wall, face complex.
A crazy barbarian slave who didn't speak a word—but in the wilds, the one guarding his back last wasn't his clerk superior or five-year comrades. It was that guy.
Jo Gang thought of conscript reunions back home. Hoping to spread word of Jinhyuk to future rotations, he bellowed from deep in his chest.
"Kang Jinhyuk! Don't die! World too unfair if a guy like you goes pointless! Stay... stay healthy, live long, you mad bastard! So I keep hearing your name out here!"
Jinhyuk froze at the shout.
The crudest, truest blessing for a slave: don't die, survive long.
It stabbed his chest.
'Conscripts leave, slaves stay'... the Great Wall's ecosystem, its law.
Jinhyuk swallowed a hollow laugh, thumbs-up in reply.
"Safe trip, old man. You earned it. Let's not meet again."
Jo Gang's fading back overlapped his own discharge gate exit.
Watching someone head home safe wasn't bad.
The clerk remounted, yelling "Move out!" The column vanished into the blizzard toward base.
Now the outpost had no one to understand Jinhyuk's words, no Great Wall troops to watch.
Just Cheonrangdae awaiting orders, wary eyes from other factions, friendly Hwang Yeong-gam, watching Survival Demons.
Jinhyuk licked a salt lump from his pocket, grinning feral.
"Alright, tutorial's over."
> Current Survival Rate: 16.92%
Jinhyuk mulled Han Noya's young ice wolf hunt and hide value, staring at the white hell below the outpost's crumbling walls.
Jo Gang's last gift would seed the hunt to dye this snowfield red.
Gripping the strongbow, he bit his lip, recalling beast eyes glinting from the distant shadowed dark called the Black Forest.
Now the real start.