Inside Out (Part 1)
The incident that drew in countless people with the suffering of a single student, despite earning an "almost miraculous happy ending" compared to the infamous "Kim Chomok Military Rebellion", still couldn't escape expert criticism for being backed by sheer luck at virtually every turn. Having a remarkably sharp situational judge—someone with an ability that "repels curses"—working as a security part-timer just happened to be the luckiest twist of fate. By heaven's grace, sure, but was this really proper policy?
"So where exactly are we supposed to live in peace?! Is this a country?! A country guarantees this and that—!!"
"What, are we heading for a society where ability users do everything and regular people are left to rot?!"
After the major accident in spring, ability-user incidents kept piling up through early summer, seemingly intent on not letting the season end. It was only natural that the countless ordinary people in the country were left thinking, "Is this really right...?" — even if they weren't the ones who started it, when the trigger was pulled, everyone got caught in the blast. The quickest way to resolve dissatisfaction isn't to look inward; it's to blame someone else and walk away.
And so, as some people were gearing up to unleash their "rather aggressive" remarks about ability users...
The continent-sized nation whose country wasn't shaped like a country reminded Korea once more that the current situation was a global wartime state. Korea, for all its differences from the nation that handed local administration over to churches and then to drug cartels... when one clearly bigger problem stood there with arms crossed, the answer was obvious.
"...That crazy bastard already flipped the situation once. Two times doesn't seem that hard, does it...?"
"Just imagining it is fun. Let's start by silencing those noisy bastards first."
And so, the man who once again helped resolve a social conflict from a place no one could have predicted—Kim Chomok—was on his way.
"If your head hurts, go to the hospital. What the hell is this nonsense."
"...Kids these days. Good things are good for a reason... watching yourself rot away your own talent..."
"Is it reasonable to demand unpaid overtime or a double major when you don't even want it?"
Having just finished his first semester back as a returning student—when he was supposed to be paying tuition like a normal person—he was being fed absurd nonsense by the dean. One of the many small-time shenanigans that universities always cooked up under the banner of "new business ventures."
"The times demand ability users, don't they? If you're thinking about getting a job, this might suit you better..."
The moment he was lured into joining a new department and program² that would turn a profit, aimed squarely at returning youth.
Now, being a second-year returning student—a keyword that sounded financially catastrophic to anyone who heard it—Kim Chomok was, at his core, a person with far more money than the average university student. Far, far more. The monsters who funded their entire tuition with other people's money, day after day crying, "Oh, I love studying so much!" didn't receive full scholarships where they'd inevitably end up crawling under professors' desks, but still.
"...Starting with scholarships cut in half right off the bat makes things comfortable enough."
With a stable upper-tier performance of a 3.86 GPA, he consistently received a 50% discount. The assets he'd recently inherited did take a 40% national haircut³, but enough remained to feel secure.
"Well, if even that's not enough, I can always pick up some side gigs."
He figured he could serve as a human-shaped excavator in this era where artificial intelligence hadn't fully taken off—just collect daily wages from large-scale weed-clearing jobs and be back to filling his wallet with cash within a few months. Of course, there were countless businesses that paid far more, but...
"I don't want to risk freezing to death doing something that's neither good for others nor dangerous for myself. As long as nobody's trying to kill me, I'll stay buried and keep my head down."
A model citizen content to sit quietly in place. Success and fame meant nothing to the thoroughly middle-class Kim Chomok. And so, after his return, among the remnants of his department's "student council equivalent" who'd survived the dean's "twice on the 9 PM news" expulsion-purge frenzy...
"As always, our class—everyone knows we don't take the midterm."
"WAAAAAH—!! Damn it, Professor!! What the hell kind of class is this...!!"
"Instead, form groups, each person takes their portion, put together a portfolio, and present it by the midterm period..."
"Wuuuuuuu—!! I'm going to hit rock bottom after this semester...!! Just let me take the exam...!!"
Trapped in a speculative arena where every social ill had been distilled and poured in—
People who clearly wanted to dodge responsibility forced a badge on the one person who didn't want it. But...
"Is that so? Then I'll be the team leader. Anyone who doesn't follow me—I'll push off a cliff."
Not long after, they realized what kind of lunatic they'd pinned to the top of their heads.
"Survival of the fittest is natural selection. There's no negotiating with a grade terrorist."
Swallow...!! In all the classes he'd taken until the end of freshman year, the class he'd paid the least attention to was the one where a B was the best he could hope for. With a 3.86 GPA as proof. If you think about the group projects where someone "conveniently" hands off leadership to random people every semester, it's evidence that he always performed above average even in those trap classes. And what made him perform above average wasn't encouragement or kind words—it was fear and inconvenience!!
For a former active-duty soldier and former nationally recognized terrorist, manufacturing that fear was as easy as breathing.
"If you can't bring the paperwork from a funeral, your name's gone. If you disappear underwater, your name's gone. If the investigation is a mess, your name's gone."
--If you're scared, go sprint to the professor right now and do the emotional appeal... no, wait, try it once. The terrifying display of the mustachioed, cold-blooded execution expert hiding inside everyone made the big ones flinch.
"...Now that you mention it, but... Can I cancel being team leader...?"
The group members were terrified, but the water was already spilled, and it was too late to hit the cancel button.
"Fine. Just go search for materials and bring them here. I'll take your name off immediately and do it myself."
There was no reason to hand carrots to disposable teammates you'd never see again. The people who'd finished their research for group projects in freshman year by just pasting from online encyclopedias were, this time, still thinking, "There's no way he'll really take my name off..."—so they responded by copy-pasting like always. But...
TING!
"Is that what you call research? Online encyclopedia copy-paste? Give me proper academic references. If you printed it out on paper, I would've thrown it right in your face."
The sweetness of freshman-year classes, where he'd sucked honey from the glow of seniors, vanished without a trace. All that remained was the cruelty of the big-headed drum professor⁴ who kept shrieking, "Again! Again... AGAIN!!" as if this were reality.
"Ahh... damn it...!! My body is only one...!! This isn't the only class...!!"
Unable to bear the creeping ache of injustice and defiance, he tried complaining to the mad team leader via messenger, but...
"Yeah, and there were people like you in other classes too... I actually expelled that one. Grade: F confirmed."
"...Shall I organize things and send them to you? I'll work through the night. I'll do my best."
In front of the truly terrifying guy who didn't just threaten with a knife but actually stabbed, fake anger didn't work at all. Thanks to the desperate flailing of victims whipped by the brutal same-year curriculum, they managed to survive.
"...And with that, we conclude our presentation. Thank you!"
"Hey, your approach was good, your presentation was good, and you even pulled the Q&A questions in advance. Did you study hard?"
A few weeks later, on the day of the midterm-substitute project presentation.
"...Hmph... I couldn't focus on any other class and threw everything into this..."
"We're screwed... I spent the whole midterm period focusing only on this. What do I do for the exam..."
Team members who'd tangled their futures in gloom and near-surrender were slumped over, but...
"Hmm, next year I could aim for 75% coverage without spending my own money if I retake it..."
The man who'd never have to retake a class due to GPA deletion, and who'd almost never run into the people in his other courses, whistled a familiar band song⁴ as he headed back to his apartment.
When you go to university long enough, one semester eventually comes to an end. After finishing the midterms, the campus festival kicked up a fuss. Then came the assignments, and once the final exams were over, the cold winter arrived.
Ting♬
"...Huh?"
Some person he'd assumed would keep getting deployed in the military had, out of nowhere, contacted him via messenger.
"Kehehe, this is the atmosphere of society...!! This bro is on regular leave!!"
It was Jeong Ilhwan—the friend and fellow soldier whose army serial numbers were exactly one year apart—who needed to use up his leave. Since the inside of the Gate wasn't Korea, it was automatically processed as "deployment, or at minimum, a disciplinary incident." From Kim Chomok's perspective, who'd been assigned to the ability-user unit as a sergeant...
"Ahh, what the hell, this bastard gets thirty more days of leave than me..."
It was only natural that Jeong Ilhwan, who'd ripped off his Corporal badge only to be reassigned to the ability-user unit, had an abundance of leave. Not that Kim Chomok would say it that way to his friend, who was currently suffering through hell.
"Tch, whatever... Did you visit your parents? How did you even get here with no money?"
The polite thing to do was feed the guy well, have some fun, and then gently send him back to the abyss...
"Jealous? They're raising wages and adding more allowances these days. Coming back?"
But no matter how much he said that, Kim Chomok wasn't mature enough to just swallow this kind of nonsense.
"Uh-huh, what the hell is that stench of the military...!! Do you mean you want to re-enlist as a specialist sergeant?!"
"You little—!! Cancel that!! That thing you just said...!!"
And so, in the sudden early snowstorm of late November, the chase began—a soldier and a university student, triggered by a petty joke.
"You little shit, you melted the snow to make ice and then bunched it up to throw?!"
"UWAAAH, you're insane!! If I get hit by that I'll melt and can't get out—!! CUP..."
It ended as a tragedy that produced one rather large-scale military casualty.