Chapter 102
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 102
Chapter Title: Influence, Camp Roberts (1)
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Yura wore a hurt expression.
“What is this? You said on the phone it was just a scratch.”
She was referring to Winter’s wounds. His left hand wrapped in bandages, and the small scratches left on his face. The others besides Yura were also stirred. As if shocked by the mere fact that Winter was hurt. Some were trembling faintly, while others eyed him warily. Winter decided to commit each one to memory, distinguishing them.
‘They’re probably just different expressions of the same emotion.’
People afraid the boy might disappear, and people afraid the boy might get bitten.
The former was fine, but the latter was problematic. This was the first barracks of the Winter Alliance. The very place where Yeoncheol had first invited Winter, though now that the alliance had grown, the members were very different from the beginning. In other words, more than half of the people here were now administrative staff.
“Are you alright?”
This time it was Jinseok. After a moment’s thought, Winter forced an awkward smile.
“See? I’m fine. No problem moving around, and the medic said it’ll heal in a month.”
“A month? That doesn’t look like just a scratch. How did it happen?”
“I got hit by a shovel blade.”
“A shovel blade... I can’t even imagine the situation. You’re lucky it didn’t sever your hand.”
Winter thought the same. It wasn’t that the soldier digging had been careless and merely wounded him; it was because he’d been careful that it ended as just a wound. The soldier himself seemed to think it was a mistake born of haste.
“Oh... that must’ve hurt...”
Yura fiddled gingerly with his bandaged hand. Watching her, Jinseok frowned. Was it some kind of puritanical mindset? The young combat leader had a strong tendency to be conscious of others’ gazes.
Winter gently withdrew his hand.
“Let’s leave it at that. Three people died in the last operation. It feels wrong to get worried over something this minor. I’d have no face to show the fallen. Besides, I really am fine.”
At the mention of deaths, Yura looked slightly startled and let out a lingering sigh before stepping back.
“Casualties? It’s surprising to hear people died in an operation with you leading it.”
It was Min Wan-gi speaking from the chair by the stove at the far end of the barracks, as Winter sat down. He took a seat across the table, and the others naturally moved away.
Winter recalled Stan Page. The machine gunner from Charlie Company, 1st Platoon, Weapons Squad. Killed by mortar fire near Santa Margarita Lake. His memorial was scheduled in a few days. Before dying, the soldier had told the boy he thought he wouldn’t die if he stuck with the lieutenant.
It was an expectation beyond limits. Trying to live up to it would, in various ways, make him lose himself. That’s why the boy wasn’t here now.
“If even Director Min says that, it’s a problem.”
At Winter’s words, the middle-aged scholar chuckled quietly.
“The nasty thing about faith is that it comes into being the moment someone believes.”
“You’re teasing. I wish you’d rein it in a bit.”
“Haha. I know the little leader dislikes it, but in my view, it’s an inevitable human trait. Religion and politics are different fruits from the same root.”
“And that root is blind faith?”
“Of course. Political support resembles religious belief. Once someone’s inclinations solidify, they see only what they want to see, hear only what they want to hear. They twist reality to fit their beliefs. Like those who claim fossils are fake and dinosaurs never existed. Little leader, it’s better to use it than suppress it. They say three people make a politics, and the alliance is way past that.”
“Director Min doesn’t trust people, then.”
“Of course I do. I sincerely trust those I understand.”
It was a cynical gaze. Winter didn’t disagree, but accepting it as is felt uncomfortable. A natural evaluation followed.
“If I were a college student, I probably wouldn’t have taken your class, Director Min.”
“That’s a shame. I liked students like you.”
The scholar laughed heartily. Staring at him, Winter had an odd thought.
‘In a way, I’m conversing with the past right now.’
Data mining. Every element of this world was the result of searching and reconstructing accumulated past information from the original world. Thus, Min Wan-gi was likely a virtual persona from an unspecified number of people who had lived in the past. Winter thought again.
‘How many people were disappointed by others?’
The coldness of the world they had lived in might be related.
“Director Jang is running a bit late. He asks for ten minutes.”
Min Wan-gi’s voice snapped him from his reverie. Winter checked his phone. A message had arrived here too. Yeoncheol’s reply to Winter’s summons text. He was out reinforcing the housing construction site, several blocks away. Picturing his location, Winter worried ten minutes might be too short.
Then came the sound of raindrops hitting the tent ceiling. Plip, plip-plip.
And the start of a new downpour. Whoosh—! Closing his eyes, it resembled a reed field in the wind.
“Rain’s back after all.”
Short and long screams came from outside. Even Winter was starting to find it tedious. Min Wan-gi voiced a line of concern.
“They say this weather might last until March. I’m worried about the alliance members’ condition.”
“Anything I need to know?”
“Not yet. I’d have contacted you if there was. But if I had to say, first is power supply. Lighting hours are controlled, TV and radio listening is hard. We have a few hand-crank radios, but fights broke out over them.”
“What did you do?”
“They’re probably scrubbing mold right now. And that’s the second problem.”
Now that he mentioned it, there was a faint musty smell. Winter spotted stains along the tent edges.
“Heating okay?”
“Yes. Fuel for heating is plentiful, at least. The Americans are looking out for us. Remember the flu epidemic? They suffered too. Quite a few died.”
The unit dispatched ahead of Winter to secure antibiotics had all been listed as KIA or MIA. The Triad took the biggest hit. Bravo Company, 3rd Battalion still bore those scars, as reinforcements hadn’t been properly filled.
‘That’s odd.’
U.S. forces were increasing daily. Last month’s journal said over 8 million already; even accounting for training time, Camp Roberts should be at full capacity by now.
Something’s up. Winter guessed.
“Take care of your health too, Director Min. We were really worried when you were sick for so long.”
“I am. The older I get, the more I hate winter. Oh, that’s the season, not you. Don’t misunderstand. Haha.”
Min Wan-gi still enjoyed his stale jokes. Winter gave him a faint smile in return, then steered the topic back.
“From what you say, it seems stress is the core, not health. I didn’t think our alliance was so harsh we’d fight over a radio. If it was minor, you wouldn’t have told me.”
“Right. The biggest regret is the housing project halt. Stopping just short of completion feels huge. Everyone was hopeful, forgetting to eat or sleep while working.”
“That must be disappointing too.”
The construction sites, left exposed to rain and wind, already needed repairs in places. That’s why Yeoncheol had rushed out the moment the rain stopped.
Whoosh. The barracks rippled in the fierce wind. The lamp swayed, making all shadows in the room dance. It felt like an optical illusion. After the silent commotion settled, Min Wan-gi spoke.
“Director Jang will come back pretty chilled. Better prepare some hot drinks. What would you like, little leader? Only instants, but we have variety.”
Compared to the poverty when Lia Iling first visited, the alliance had improved in many ways.
Min Wan-gi opened a nearby cabinet. It was packed. Winter picked his preference.
“Then cocoa for me.”
“Got it. One moment.”
The middle-aged scholar put water on the stove first, then took out three glass mugs. An alliance member sorting refugee labor schedules offered to help, but Winter waved it off. Instead, he stood to assist Min Wan-gi himself. Everywhere he looked, people hesitated.
Yeoncheol must have the same taste as Winter; there were two cocoas. Min Wan-gi chose coffee for himself. And sugar cubes: one, two, three, four, five...
As Winter stared, Min Wan-gi, after ten cubes, excused himself.
“Um, I’ve been craving sweet lately.”
“Yeah... You’ll need to brush well.”
“Heh, hehehe...”
As the water boiled, Yeoncheol entered. He nodded to Winter upon eye contact. Shaking off his poncho outside the entrance, he hurried to fill an empty seat at the table. Up close, his eyes widened.
“Huh? You’re hurt?”
“...It’s nothing.”
Explaining again was tedious, so Winter offered the prepared drink.
“Warm up first. Director Min was worried you’d be cold, Director Jang.”
“Haha, thanks.”
The three men of different generations sipped two cocoas and one sugar syrup, diving into the main talk.
“I called you two today about this.”
Winter placed a bundle of forms on the table. Recommendations for civil affairs officers from the battalion commander. Included were documents on the military government’s structure and planned duties.
As they reviewed the papers, Winter provided background.
“A military government dedicated to refugee administration is coming soon. They need civil affairs officers, and the battalion commander asked me to recommend people. I want your opinions on how to use this and who to appoint. Also, giving you two first pick.”
Each recommendation was for different departments and ranks. After swapping and reviewing thoroughly, the two directors sighed almost simultaneously. Yeoncheol asked.
“Just write a name and done? No screening?”
“Yeah, seems so. But we can’t pick anyone. I’ll be responsible.”
“Wow, this is... huge power. Couldn’t we monopolize it?”
As Yeoncheol marveled, Min Wan-gi shook his head.
“It looks impressive, but not that substantial. Max recommendable rank is GS-6 by federal standards. There’ll be specialization by role. Even assuming military government lower than state level, plenty of superiors above selects. Filling with our people limits power.”
U.S. federal civil servants are highly categorized by function, not uniformly graded. But pay scales divide by job importance, which Min Wan-gi pointed out.
Yeoncheol hesitated.
“Is GS-6 low? By our standards, it’s pretty high...”
Min Wan-gi replied.
“Not low or high. 15 grades total. Opposite of Korea—higher number, higher grade. GS-6 is like sergeant or staff sergeant in the Army. Our little leader would be around GS-11.”
Winter tilted his head.
“GS-11? I’m just a lieutenant— that high?”
“Yes. Extras above GS-15.”
“Ah, you know your stuff.”
“My field, after all. Heh.”
Meanwhile, Yeoncheol looked glum. Min Wan-gi laughed again.
“No need to be disappointed, Director Jang. It’s still a good opportunity.”
“True, we couldn’t monopolize anyway. Putting Koreans on Chinese refugee complaints would be trouble.”
Winter spoke softly.
“My credibility’s on the line. If I pick ridiculously, what’ll they think upstairs? Battalion commander said it’s the American way, but he tested me first. Don’t want to lower U.S. view of me. Plenty of future gains.”
The battalion commander gave recommendations because Winter proved pure.
The knife handle was in U.S. hands anyway. They could cut anytime.
Min Wan-gi said.
“Best to use for show. Of course, keeping key posts separate. They accounted for that giving this.”
============================ Author's Note ============================
#Foolish Writer's Persistence
Early in the novel, #Intermission, journals, and time acceleration mentioned this.
-The virtual personas handling journal logs learn from player action patterns across all playthroughs.
Chapter 101 revealed all world personas are implemented by control AI.
Thus, the journal signals the control AI is learning Winter... In early journals, Winter had choices, but mid-to-late, he accepts as is? Meaning he’d act per journal even as himself... Learning progressed that much... Roughly that vibe...
Hehe... Sorry... Writer should be more competent...
#Q&A
Q. ClassicPig: @Did I miss something? Where’s Winter pouring money? Family issues again? And shocked writer’s younger than thought... 30? Enjoying.
A. You missed nothing. This bizarre novel by an unfriendly writer never gives all info at once, annoyingly.
On age, everyone says younger than expected. Why? With such fresh, innocent writing, normal to think writer’s in kindergarten...
Q. Haros: @Anyway, Han Gyeowol’s mid-term loan repayment bugs me.
A. But not regular repayment, so full of hope, right?
Q. Nesstor: @ [Request: Quiet romance between control AI and Winter!] [Reward: Offerings for 130 million people] [Accept? Y/N]
A. <N> Writer’s innocence can’t allow it. Control AI is cute? Not giving to anyone. Writer’s. Haha.
Q. ZAHARA: @Reason to come to Nobles! Anti title... but makes sense reading. Best title ever!
A. Thanks for understanding. Writer’s masterpiece title! But many call it anti, so sad.