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Chapter 1
In my 8th year as a reservist, on the day I was about to throw away my military uniform, the final emergency mobilization text message for South Korean reservists came through.
**
January 1, 2028. A new year had dawned.
Two months ago, the company I worked for went bankrupt, leaving me forcibly unemployed. This was a fresh start for me, Baek Jemin, now a young man with time on his hands.
Greeting the New Year's morning, I threw open the windows I usually never bothered to ventilate and dusted every corner of my apartment.
"Heck-! Cough, hack!"
Clumps of dust floated around and found their way into my mouth, making me suffer, but I didn't back down since I'd resolved to clean thoroughly for the new year.
Next, I mopped even more diligently than usual.
Normally I'd just quickly wipe visible spots with wet wipes, but since it was the new year, I prepared to move all the furniture and clean every nook and cranny.
The one regret was that I didn't have a mop cloth.
Since Daiso wasn't open, the rattiest-looking towel ended up becoming my mop cloth.
After cleaning like that, I leisurely enjoyed a cup of coffee, and then it was time to organize the pile of clothes in the corner of my closet.
A checkered button-up shirt? I wore it because Mom bought it for me, but after wearing it for 6 years, the collar was so frayed it was falling apart—Mom would have told me to throw it out immediately.
Old-school jeans that require a belt? In 2025, I discovered the marvel of pull-on jeans. You just slip your legs in and pull like tying a taekwondo belt, and it tightens your waist perfectly—why would I leave these good pants aside and bother with clicking and clacking a belt?
Ankle socks? These were so painfully scratchy when they rubbed against my Achilles tendon that I bought them once when they were trendy and stashed them away forever.
There were far more useless things than I expected.
Like a maple tree shedding its leaves to prepare for a new look, I swept up my old clothes and stuffed them into plastic bags.
Then I found an outfit that made me sink into nostalgia and sentimentality.
It was the outfit I'd kept carefully stored away despite being annoyed by it.
"Ugh. Finally getting rid of this wretched thing."
Combat uniform and combat boots.
I got fitted for them when I was discharged, and now, 8 years later, I'm finally throwing them out. Since I was discharged in January, it felt like I'd done an extra year of reservist duty—an unpleasant feeling.
Of course, when I wore them out right after discharge looking sharp, they felt incredibly reliable, but after continuously drinking the bitter waters of society, the combat uniform and boots had become a white elephant I had to lug around every time I moved.
My friends said I could throw them out starting from my 7th year, but like a coward, I'd kept them because I was too lazy to deal with it, and now I was finally getting rid of them.
I purposely brought a large plastic bag, put the boots inside, and looked down at them with mixed feelings of love and hate.
Then I suddenly blinked.
"Come to think of it, this is technically a combat uniform—is it okay to just throw it away like this?"
I was originally going to stuff it into a clothing donation bin, but I changed my mind.
So I picked up my phone and searched, and sure enough, I had to remove all the insignia and name tags, cut it in half, and put it in a paid garbage bag or return it to the reservist battalion.
The problem was that I had run out of paid garbage bags.
It seemed like the combat boots could just be thrown away, but seeing the combat uniform left all alone felt somehow unsettling, so I stopped.
They say even straw sandals have their pair—combat uniforms and combat boots are clearly a pair too—so if I wasn't going to send them off together, I didn't want to put them in different trash bags.
This is how rich Baek Jemin's sensibility was.
"Ugh. Whatever."
I'd suffered enough of this nonsense.
New Year's resolutions be damned—on January 1st, a precious public holiday and my birthday to boot, how was I supposed to deal with this annoying stuff?
Since my birthday is January 1st, I, Baek Jemin, am now officially 28. Even though every day is practically a holiday for me, a man's got to have his pride.
Sleeping while others work, and playing while others play—that's what true rest is.
Working while others play, and sleeping while others sleep—how is that resting? That's just being a diligent young man.
I shoved the bag containing my Combat Uniform and Combat Boots back into the darkest corner of my closet and resumed cleaning. Even though I only gathered clothes that could go straight into the donation bin, they were heavy enough that I decided to make a few trips back and forth.
I wasn't about to commit the foolish mistake of trying to carry everything at once like an idiot.
What does a jobless bum like me, Baek Jemin, have in abundance? Time.
If spending a little extra time can reduce my physical suffering, that's what you call being rational.
After making three or four trips between the clothing bin and my studio, I felt the gaze of the building Manager, who was smoking in the distance, looking at me with pity.
I responded to his gaze with a bright, sunny smile and a polite greeting.
"Happy New Year!"
"Phew. Alright. Happy New Year to you too. Hope everything works out for you."
After putting all the moved furniture back in its place and looking around my clean studio, I felt an unwarranted sense of pride.
All I really did was some cleaning, but it gave me this sense of accomplishment as if I had achieved something great.
Basking in this subtle feeling of satisfaction, I sat down in front of my computer.
"I've lived quite boldly and righteously right from January 1st. This is a fantastic start."
It was reward time for myself, having flawlessly fulfilled my New Year's resolution.
I was, after all, a fresh youth who had only been resting for two months.
I wasn't some deeply rotted jobless youth who had been unemployed for years; at just two months, I was still a fresh, green rookie.
With a satisfied smile from my rare sense of accomplishment, I logged into Discord, and the rotted jobless youths who were already waiting turned on their mics.
[Happy New Year.]
[Happy New Year, bro.]
"Yeah. Happy New Year to you guys too."
However, since no one was as well-versed in current affairs as our rotted jobless youths permanently stationed in Discord, our trivial small talk quickly shifted to the hottest topic as of late.
[But seriously, they say the fog in Seoul is getting thicker by the day? Apparently, visibility in some areas has dropped to around 30 meters, to the point where people are even talking about designating traffic restriction zones.]
"I don't live in Seoul. Why would I care so much about what happens there when I live in Gyeonggi-do?"
[Come on, bro, you still need to keep up with current affairs. Plus, the cause of this fog is unknown, so there are rumors it could spread all the way to Gyeonggi-do. And they've already restricted traffic in some areas.]
"No, I'm just saying that because there's no point talking about things with no clear conclusion. So what? Did they figure out the cause?"
The topic was this bizarre fog that had reportedly begun to seep up in certain parts of Seoul around late November 2027.
It was literally fog.
It wasn't frost, but that damp, humid fog recently welling up all over the streets of Seoul had driven people's anxiety to extreme levels.
Naturally, the Korea Meteorological Administration and various experts began appearing in the media, offering calm and plausible-sounding explanations.
They claimed that this fog was a highly localized phenomenon caused by climate change on the Korean Peninsula, where actual temperatures—unlike the perceived temperature—became milder and humidity increased.
Of course, this plausible argument completely failed to resonate with the public's already shattered common sense.
The gap between the opinions of my rotted jobless friends and my own fresh, green perspective wasn't easily bridged either. It was a miracle we could even communicate at all.
[Remember those trucks that used to drive around spraying cloudy smoke for pest control? What if they're doing that again? Maybe some lethal, invasive species of insect got in, and they're trying to exterminate it.]
[Then they need to tell us what this 'harmful insect' is first. I'm telling you, this is 100% some kind of experiment. What if they're lacing it with trace amounts of antipsychotic drugs to gradually addict us? Then you'll know without me telling you next time.]
[Hey, why do you only speak informally to me?]
[Because we're close. You're not quite there yet with Jemin hyung.]
Looking at this guy who was just waiting for a chance to call me 'hey, you' instead of 'hyung', I resolved never to get any closer to him.
Still, this was manageable.
Whenever I looked around for any new news or incidents regarding the fog, a fight would break out in the comment section nine times out of ten.
Deep State has finally started population control, it's a biochemical attack by North Korea or China but the government is already compromised and hiding the truth, it's a scheme to lower Seoul housing prices, climate change itself is a hoax so how can they explain this fog, it's proof of climate change so we need more eco-friendly policies...
In the end, everyone had already drawn their own conclusions.
And the conclusion I, Baek Jemin, had drawn was this:
"So why should Gyeonggi-do residents worry about Seoul people? Hey, turn on the game."
Of course, that wasn't my real conclusion.
My conclusion was far more fundamental.
After rolling around as a fresh unemployed man for the past two months, the thought that crossed my mind was that if I kept this up, I too would become a deeply rotted youth, just lazing around for years.
I didn't have the luxury to worry about something like fog.
At least, that was the case until I pulled an all-nighter gaming until dawn the next day.
***
Bzzzzt-.
A loud vibrating sound echoed through my Headset.
I slowly blinked my sunken eyes—having stayed up all night after drinking a can of Monster—and asked.
"What is it?"
[You have a phone too, idiot.]
"I don't want to take my eyes off the monitor."
[It's nothing much. Just a notice about traffic restricted zones due to the fog in Seoul. You know, the disaster text alerts.]
"Son of a bitch."
Why are they blowing up the smartphones of Gyeonggi-do residents with disaster alerts when we're over two hours away from Seoul?
I checked the time just in case, and it was 4:53 AM.
It was January 2nd. When I thought about the countless Gyeonggi-do residents who must have fallen asleep preparing for work, still clinging to the sweetness of the holiday, a surge of righteous indignation welled up inside me.
Right then, words that completely swept away my drowsiness slammed into my ears.
[Hyung. I think it's serious this time.]
"About what."
[They said murder cases have been confirmed in the areas where traffic was restricted due to the fog. The bodies were somewhat decomposed, and statistics show that missing person reports over the past two months have already surpassed 200 cases. People are saying the Seoul police force alone can't handle this anymore.]
Gulp.
Someone on the other end of the Headset swallowed hard.
Without realizing it, I turned my head and stared out the window for no reason.
[It was revealed that there was a proposal in the National Assembly to deploy troops to maintain order, but the opposition argued it was a coup or fear-mongering; but that was a month ago. They're already drafting Soldiers under the guise of civil service to assist the police, and yet there's still talk of a police shortage.]
[What a damn mess.]
Outside the window, it was still dim.
It wasn't a bustling downtown area in Gyeonggi-do but a relatively remote spot, so apart from the streetlights, there was hardly any passing traffic. There's a small town a ten-minute walk away, but at this hour, it's dead silent.
However, while everyone else was asleep, only my room had the lights on.
[But this time, even the mobilization of Reservists was debated in the National Assembly without much argument. This part seems like an unverified rumor, though...]
"What kind of Reservist mobilization? That's not happening."
[Right. It's not like a war broke out, so why mobilize Reservists? They haven't been shot in the head.]
"Does it even make sense to mobilize Reservists just because there's some fog in Seoul? They're spouting bullshit, seriously."
[Guys. That's why I said it's a rumor. It just means the fog problem is that serious. Areas with fog so thick that even CCTV can't record properly have already been placed under traffic restrictions.]
It was around that time.
Through the dim window, a heavy noise echoed out amidst the sporadic passing vehicles. A column of Military Trucks driving down the road caught my eye.
Three 2.5-ton Trucks with their tailgates wide open were driving in a line through the dawn.
Soldiers carrying Helmets, Military Gear, and even firearms clattered as they swayed lifelessly, packed together like bean sprouts in a basket—clearly visible even from my second-floor studio.
Clank, clank!
The unpleasant rumble unique to Military Trucks settled achingly in the air, piercing right through my Headset.
It wasn't as loud or piercing as a car horn, but it felt like it was heavily weighing down on a corner of my mind.
Feeling a strange mix of discomfort and relief at the same time, I turned my gaze back to the monitor.
"Right. With our young, brave active-duty Soldiers on the job, what business do Reservists have stepping up? The old Reservist geezers don't even know what a 2.5-ton Truck is. It'd be a shame to make them ride in one, so I'll just walk back home."
I reflexively checked the time.
5:03 AM.
Nothing else happened.
In a subtle silence, our party dispersed, and not feeling like messing with my computer anymore, I laid my body down on the cozy Mattress.
Before falling asleep, I decided to pray to anyone, even though I didn't have a god I particularly believed in.
Please, if they're going to mobilize Reservists, do it next year.
***
And then, January 6th.
I, Baek Jemin, ended up heading to the Reservist battalion wearing the Combat Uniform and Combat Boots I had tried so hard to throw away.
Standing idly by the crosswalk, I watched a man across the street sluggishly shuffling along in a loosely sagging Combat Uniform, wearing an expression that said he was sick of the world.
Judging by his look, he seemed to be heading to the convenience store behind me to buy cigarettes.
I understand how he feels.
I lifted the smartphone in my hand and felt completely devastated.
[Following the outbreak of riots in the Seoul area due to the fog, the executive branch requested the National Assembly to pass a mobilization decree despite strong opposition... The National Assembly also attached a temporary condition, stating it would last until the economic paralysis in Seoul was resolved...]
8th-year Reservist.
The last Reservist duty of my life had come.
End