Receive the New Recruit
"Hmm, excellent physique, excellent personality... I like the mindset that you'll play any percussion instrument. No reason not to bring you along. I was just thinking of raising a sub-percussionist anyway."
No matter what, deciding to take on a subordinate just because they seemed fun wasn't a smart choice. I did my absolute best to persuade that elf Colonel Eski Jeongnyeong, but... it ended in utter failure. She really didn't buy a single word. That crazy dopamine junkie with the pointy ears.
Maybe this world's prejudice against elves was justified after all?
"Konstantia, what was that about? Why'd they call you in?"
When I got back from talking with that weird elf, everyone had already finished one round of training and was taking a break. Elisia spotted me and trotted over, asking that question. The other recruits didn't approach directly like her, but they were glancing my way. Fair enough—it was suspicious. If one of your fellow recruits suddenly got summoned by an officer, anyone would be curious.
"Well, you see..."
I hesitated for a moment, then explained what had just happened. Of course, I left out the part about my voice translating things on its own from my mouth.
"The 2nd Combat Military Band... the Rebel Frog Unit?"
"You know it?"
"...You really don't?"
I nodded confidently. After all, not just the instructors but the recruits seemed to see me as someone 'obsessed with music and clueless about worldly news.'
Elisia cautiously continued her explanation. To sum it up briefly, the 2nd Combat Military Band was a unit prepared for situations where mana conduction speakers couldn't be installed. Of course, all military bands had to keep the possibility of operating near the front lines in mind. That's why we did forced marches and runs here. The enemy could strike while we were supporting command, or terrain issues or equipment failures might force us into the field, like I'd just mentioned.
But that was all contingency for emergencies. Training accounted for the slim chance, but it rarely happened in reality—and nothing happening was the best outcome.
In contrast, the 2nd Combat Military Band—nicknamed the "Rebel Frog Troupe"—was created from the start as an elite support unit for special operations. For example, imagine a mage unit diving into enemy territory for a decapitation strike. You couldn't pre-install speakers in hostile lands to boost their yeongchang. So they trained a tiny handful of elite bandsmen with the mobility to keep up and deployed them together.
In short, like Delta Force in America, jumping into the most dangerous spots... that kind of unit. Sometimes they even dispatched just bandsmen for small-team ops...
Whoa, I already don't want to go. How does a place like that even exist? No, I'd hated the idea before hearing this, but now it was even worse.
"They pick someone for such an important unit just because the commander takes a liking to them?"
I muttered in disbelief. Telling a raw recruit who hadn't even finished basic training, "You seem fun, you're in"?
"Uh... well, their commander is famous for being an eccentric... or not that famous...?"
Anyone into military bands usually knew, though... Elisia mumbled uncertainly.
"Anyway, she's supposed to be really weird. Rumor has it she came to the Empire after getting kicked out of dark elf lands..."
"Kicked out?"
"Yeah. For human-hating remarks that went too far."
"...?"
Why was that a problem? I blinked in confusion. Elves here matched the arrogant, discriminatory stereotype—just like in stories. A little human bashing wouldn't get you exiled. It was like getting canceled in pre-Civil War America for saying the n-word. That's what I'd just heard.
"She claimed humans are a slave race created by elves or something..."
"Ah."
That made sense. I had to nod in understanding. At a Western supremacist rally, saying "blacks are half-evolved subhumans" gets applause, but "blacks are creations molded by white hands" gets headshakes. That's straight-up anti-Christian heresy.
There was a clear line between extreme bigotry and batshit insanity. No wonder she got socially buried and banished.
Hold on—so now that lunatic... no, elf... is going to be my superior?
A chilling realization hit me, and I shuddered. My military life felt like it was about to get dumped in the sewer.
Already a dangerous, grueling unit—and now the commander was trash-tier too?
"...You've got it rough, miss. That unit's supposed to be a nightmare."
Meanwhile, Rui chimed in from the side. She brushed back her sweat-matted brown hair, muttering. When I looked her way—not to ogle her sweat-soaked shirt clinging to her chest, but basic courtesy—she met my eyes with a worried look.
"Even I, who couldn't care less, heard the rumors. They're everywhere."
"That bad?"
"Yeah. Word is it's brutally tough. Noble brats who enlisted for glory couldn't hack it and quit military life altogether. Not just one or two... More importantly, when are you dropping the formal talk?"
"You're older, aren't you?"
She shrugged. A noble girl using honorifics with a commoner over a decade younger? First I'd seen. But I wasn't in the mood for trivialities. My military career was imploding in real time—how could I focus on anything else?
...Flip it around, though: this could be a perfect excuse to bail. Quitting a normal unit makes me a weak bitch—Mom wouldn't let that slide. But a unit infamous for being hellish? That gives me plausible deniability.
I'm not weak. Well, I am kinda weak, but even accounting for that, they were the problem.
Suffer a bit, time my discharge right, then live free as a civilian with my reincarnated knowledge cheats.
"Anyway... is it really that scary?"
But the plan wasn't flawless. What if something went wrong before I built enough justification to quit? Like getting thrown into insane danger and croaking?
No matter how solid, dying voids it. Better to screw up here, go nuts, get kicked out. Worst case, disowned—not dead.
I'd worried about getting booted from home with no prospects. That's why I joined the army I didn't want. But that was before realizing this body's talents. With this physique, I could labor as a commoner and live easy.
So gather intel, bail if it sucks...
"Rumors are exaggerated, so take 'em with salt... but they say you're not even treated like a person there. All nobles and officers anyway—no one cares."
"...Not treated like a person?"
"Yeah. Heard they stripped someone buck naked and made 'em duck-walk laps around the parade ground—"
"Rui recruit."
"...?"
My sudden interruption made Rui look flustered. I met her gaze with clear, unwavering eyes.
"No matter the hardship, a soldier obeys superiors. Complaining about assignments is poor conduct. I'll accept whatever comes."
"Uh? Oh... yeah... do what you want, miss...?"
Truth was, I'd dreamed of joining the 2nd Training Band since the womb. Every girl gets thrilled by elite spec-ops cool, right?
Rui and Elisia looked baffled by my attitude shift, but I didn't care. They were offering to treat me like a beast and pay me for it!
From today, Yura Konstantia's goal: join the Combat Military Band, by any means.
×
Sure, I said "by any means," but I didn't have to do much. A few days later, transfer orders came down. I packed, hopped the unit's provided carriage. Said goodbyes to the other recruits—that was it.
"Long time no see, Recruit Yura Konstantia."
"...! Long live the Emperor!"
"Long live the Emperor."
But I didn't expect the unit's top commander to greet me right off the carriage. I slapped my left hand to my chest in salute. She—Colonel Eski—grinned, returning it.
Or Acting Colonel Eski Jeongnyeong? I glanced at her arm. A bright yellow band covered her actual rank insignia on her uniform sleeve, embroidered with a colonel-like emblem in black thread.
Faux rank, opposing her true rank. Like "position-based rank" from my past life. Temporary rank for duties. If someone's rank is too low for their role—like a battalion commander below standard—they bump it up temporarily.
But the Empire's faux ranks worked opposite: demoting someone for their position. Sounds insane—I first thought it encouraged coups. But here, it was vital.
Why? Individuals could aura-blade buildings or nuke hills with magic. Minimum tank-level; elites were tactical nukes.
War hinged on handling them. Problem: endless monsters like in fantasy tales. The army protected humanity too. Constant near-wartime—or full wartime—state.
Promotions sped up in war: vacancies from retirements, merit opportunities. Superhumans racked up achievements fastest, rising quickest.
Fine in theory. But in ops? I'm a lieutenant colonel tank battalion CO, but my tanks are all colonels? I'd salute them to launch.
Can't raise CO ranks forever—then generals lead battalions? Faux ranks fixed this: "We'll treat/pay you right in peace; ignore real ranks in ops?" Consensus.
Rocky start, but now it streamlined ops. Other nations copied it—useful here.
Why not just translate as 'faux colonel'? Jeongnyeong's confusing.
Petty issue no Imperial would get, but I'd adapted during training. Same order: general-colonel-major; just sizes swapped to government levels.
"Skip the check-in. Follow me. Drop your gear and head to quartermaster."
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Good energy."
Acting Colonel Eski smiled approvingly, then spun on her heel. I followed, huge pack on my back. Her nearly white hair showed perky brown pointed ears.
The building was smaller than training, but big for the headcount. Slightly worn but solid. Inside, the corridor smelled musty.
"Coming in."
She stopped at a door, knocked twice, flung it open. Two bunk beds per side. A woman reading on one bolted up to salute... whoa, check those boobs bounce. Rivaling Elisia's?
As I thought that, she straightened. Her armband: two diamonds. Lieutenant Letizia Shtain.
Sharp amber eyes under neat bangs stared at me.
"Lieutenant Shtain? Where's Captain Kammel?"
"Out on pass today."
"Right, forgot. Cover for her then. Take this one to the warehouse..."
After instructions, the commander left us alone.
"...Tch."
Footsteps faded; senior clicked her tongue at me. Fair—interrupting rest for chores. But showing it with the culprit present? Tacky.
"Hey, newbie. Quit dawdling and move."
Not the friendliest vibe.
"Yes, ma'am!"
In other words... industry masochist reward machine #1 (suspected). My self-indulgent paradise starter.
I replied brightly, joy bursting.
"Don't yell. Follow quietly."
"Yes, ma'am."
Honey TBD, but the shape from behind? Milk was definitely flowing.