Compromise - 2
"That horrific rumor kept snowballing until it reached our unit as something like, 'The squad that attacked a hidden NINJA village got completely wiped out!'"
The major was grinning ear to ear, but no one listening could crack a smile.
"But our captain bravely stepped up and dueled that mysterious swordswoman with swords clashing all day long!"
"Sounds like the exaggerations are starting to creep in..."
But Yukiko, Mikoto—even the sergeant beside her—were hanging on the major's every word.
"Then, after taking her down, the captain sternly said, 'I'll spare your life, so never do evil again and live a good life,' before letting her go!"
"By that point, nothing lines up at all."
"I think war stories need this much flair to qualify!"
No matter how clueless they were about the military, they couldn't miss the inconsistencies. Finally, Yukiko turned to me.
"So, in conclusion, how was that swordswoman able to kill a man?"
"I'll explain that part. We only heard the details later, but... the physical enhancement procedure is incredible, but surprisingly vulnerable to slashing."
Of course, "vulnerable" was still insanely tough compared to a normal person. The skin was so leathery it barely seemed human, and with the muscles beneath, it got exponentially tougher.
"A really good blade wielded carefully by a skilled hand can cut it—it's not impossible. But it's no easy feat."
It might seem invincible, but strictly speaking, it was tech designed for war. Built to withstand bullets, shrapnel, shells—the impacts of modern combat. No one had anticipated getting stabbed to death by some guy with a knife.
"I get that far. But even accounting for that, it's still weird. Could a sword swung at a man even reach his body?"
Yukiko's point was spot on. Sure, the durability could be overcome, but the physical capabilities were on another level entirely. In extreme terms, it was like different species. Even the fastest unenhanced human moved like a snail compared to an average enhanced man.
"...That guy was weak."
"Ugh, when we found out, it was just ridiculous..."
The major and I shared a hollow chuckle.
"He had some connections, so no one kept him in check. He got his hands on drugs and went wild."
Even with the enhancement surgery, slamming hardcore narcotics straight into your veins with a syringe dulled you inevitably.
"Even factoring that in, that swordswoman was impressive."
"So... you faced off against someone that dangerous up close? Bro..."
Yukiko was still tilting her head, puzzled, while Mikoto—way too immersed—looked on the verge of tears.
"Why are you crying? And anyway, the sword thing's bullshit. Why would I carry a sword in a war? The enemy dies to bullets."
"Oh, yeah, true?"
"Then what was that 'all-day duel' about..."
"When we first arrived in the area, we had zero intel. No clue how she'd killed a man, so we kept our distance and just sniped from afar. No close-quarters bullshit."
"Captain! I'm trying to make it sound badass here! I told the whole unit that story—what am I supposed to do now?!"
"No wonder the sergeant wasn't buying it... So you were the one spreading the tall tale, Soyoung."
The female soldier sitting nearby looked like a girl who'd just learned Santa wasn't real, shock written all over her face.
"So why drag it out all day? You didn't want to kill her, even though she was the enemy or something?"
At Mikoto's question, the major shuddered.
"Ugh... How good are you at image control?"
"Why not? For a nice guy like me, killing people is huge stress. You could totally think that."
"Haha, that cracked me up. Anyway, since you say no more packaging, I'll spill the real beans from now on!"
"Do what you want."
"Mikoto? Our captain dragged out the fight that long because... he just couldn't hit the broad side of a barn!"
"Yeah. I'm a crap shot."
It wasn't like I wanted to brag about marksmanship, and there were plenty of reasons I might miss.
"You helped plan it too—keep distance at all costs, no telling what variables might pop up."
"True, but! A man's gotta have some pride, right?"
"Fat chance."
I snorted. From the start, nothing I'd done as a soldier felt worth bragging about.
"Truth is, this isn't even a story you laugh off. Three women in the nearby village raped to death."
It felt like I was killing the mood on purpose, but this wasn't some light tale to begin with. Less a heroic yarn, more a clusterfuck of casualties—and I was just cleanup crew.
"They force-fed drugs to little girls till they could barely breathe, then fucked them to death. That swordswoman probably snapped and came out swinging because of it."
In an already occupied zone, if locals suddenly turned guerrilla, there was always a trigger. One in ten times, it was infiltrators from outside resistance. The other nine? The occupying force had fucked up.
"'Showing mercy' is an overstatement too. We weren't overwhelmingly dominant, and I didn't let her go out of the goodness of my heart."
Our unit's orders were recon. Specifically, confirm if some elite squad capable of killing enhanced men was roaming Korean-held territory.
I'd fulfilled that to the letter. Kept a safe distance since we didn't know what she was hiding, peppered shots to flush her out, played tag. Killing her wasn't on the menu. No need to risk it.
"Captain's too soft. In that mess, a few civilian deaths are no big deal... That sword bitch took out over thirty of our guys."
"Still tragic."
"Even if it was rape, better she croaks mid-fuck, right? Drugs mean she didn't feel the pain. They'd all be dead anyway..."
In the war's late stages, Korea's occupation policy got brutal. Specifically, handling rebels.
"...Yeah, probably."
Every time they tagged a threat or terrorist, hordes of "bystanders" and "sympathizers" got swept up. Countless civilians without ironclad proof of innocence ended up jailed or dead.
"Man, thinking back, it pisses me off. You did all the legwork scoping the situation and reporting intel, but some other asshole cashes in on it?"
"Let 'em."
Purges and roundups came with looting. No real chain of command, no oversight. Guys throwing drug-fueled orgies were the tip of the iceberg—unit commanders had free rein. The nicer ones sometimes shared the spoils with their men.
"What if that guy survives and comes gunning for revenge?"
"Can't be helped."
I hadn't personally killed him or razed her village with my own hands. But I'd known the outcome and reported every detail on her anyway.
If she'd surrendered, propaganda fodder then execution—her whole village probably vaporized instead. Plenty of people like that, gone and forgotten by all but me.
In China, Japan—names only I remembered. All I did was remember them.
/////
The mood got a bit heavy at the end, but everyone parted with smiles. Yukiko's expression stayed sour the whole way home, though.
"I'm sorry."
While Mikoto was off washing up, Yukiko slipped beside me to apologize.
"Huh? For what?"
"I thought Master's reluctance stemmed from having no outlet for your abilities."
Head bowed, she couldn't meet my eyes.
"So, in my arrogance, I dug into your past and disturbed you. An unforgivable sin."
Now it clicked why she'd awkwardly brought up "military honors." Not genuine interest in tactics or battles. She just wanted to see me boast confidently.
"Someone with nothing worth bragging about now wouldn't have shit from the old days either, right?"
What even was something "worth bragging about"? Superhuman feats? Positive impact on others?
"Impossible. You're simply humble."
"Nah."
War or no war, I'd never thought I helped anyone beyond my basic duties. No good deeds, no one saved.
"But if there's one thing I can proudly boast about, it's you, Yukiko."
"Ah."
Yukiko was a stunning beauty who outshone anyone, brimming with talent. Being loved by her wasn't ordinary.
"Aah..."
Even my corny, childish line moved her deeply. Her face barely changed, but the subtle shifts in her eyes and expression betrayed her turmoil.
"Thank you."
But her looks and skills were secondary. What made Yukiko truly special was how genuinely happy I'd made her.
Destined for a miserable life sold off to some stranger, I'd saved her effortlessly, flawlessly.
I could save someone. My actions could bring happiness to another's life.
Once I'd dismissed such thoughts as delusions, but Yukiko's mere existence ignited hope in me.
"The fact you love me, that I can make you happy—that's my greatest pride."
Sometimes she felt too perfect, too convenient. Yukiko never factored in jealousy or self-interest—she thought only of me.
Being loved that much was scary at times, but it also swelled my pride.
As I gazed at her smiling, she reverted to her usual cool, rigid demeanor.
"The next slave market visit is in three days. The Mikoto matter was entirely my failure. The next slave will cling to you the moment she enters the house."
"Whoa, that's a bit..."
"I've already specified at the market: 'no aversion to nighttime service.' So..."
Yukiko drew closer, caressing my cheek. Her cool hand felt refreshingly chill against my skin.
"Until then, I'll work hard today to remain something you can boast about."
Our lips met. Her ever-cold eyes locked with mine.