Even If You Hate the Military, the Military Loves You: Stop Loss (Middle)

When Korea's first gate encounter incident wrapped up relatively well, leaving just four injured, the news hit hard. Nations around the world had no choice but to raise their alerts against the residents beyond the portals.

"The first bunch were warmongers short on manpower, and the second lot are battle maniacs?"

"What the hell is the world coming to..."

Well, the first invaders had tried to revive official slavery in America since Lincoln's time. And the second? A bunch of battle junkies who gave up future fights because they "weren't fun enough" anymore. With dimensional gates pulling out hostile entities at a 100% rate, it was easy to assume all intelligent beings from other worlds were belligerent psychos.

"They're not rookies without combat experience—they're elite units who've tangled with monsters plenty."

"If even those agents need to be treated like greenhorns, we might have to nuke one just to take one down."

No matter that they'd been drafted via double-barreled curses in response to the drill sergeant's "Who dragged you here?!" on day one. These ability users had handled luring, scouting, small skirmishes, and takedowns against monsters. If time and constraints were lifted, reports said any one of them could go toe-to-toe with a tank. For beings with that kind of human-shaped firepower to suffer PTSD, this level of special treatment was only natural.

"This is insane. At least our land's small, so we have fewer gates. Small mercies..."

Compared to the dice rolls of doom vast countries had to keep cranking out.

"Back in the day, I'd have snapped that small land was nothing to brag about... but seeing your country's mess? Lost for words."

Even the U.S. Forces Korea commander, there to share detailed combat data, was speechless. Our house was on fire, while theirs was a typhoon-ravaged hellplanet. Earth kept rolling through this infernal chaos today as always.

"Don't... come... don't come near me—!!"

"Hey! I'm a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠captain! Listen up, you four-eyed punk! Stay back!"

And in that frontline hell, there was even a human rolling pathetically on the floor to dodge treatment.

Having bravely charged into a rescue op with death on the line, only to get mobbed and silenced by his own squad. Now carted in with the wounded, he was about to face the ability that traded healing for excruciating agony.

Kim Chomo's spectacular freakout was unfolding gloriously in the infirmary.

"What the fuck, am I a guinea pig or some white lab rat?! Why do those guys get short and sharp pain while I get the long, throbbing nightmare?!"

The funny part? The near-critically injured had endured just three minutes of their cells burning alive before it ended.

"Hey, Chomo. You gonna slack in the infirmary or what?!"

"No way, Doc, I ain't... AAARGH—!!"

"You fat-ass bastard! You know how tortured I was missing my channels because of you?!"

One guy had earned extra punishment duty, landing him as a "voluntary subject" for the medic's ability experiments. But field docs got leeway on serious treatments as long as there were no nasty aftereffects.

"AAARGH, it hurts—!! Hippocrates, you still got your eyes shut...!!"

"Damn kid must not know who he's messing with. Am I asking you to do something bad? I'm fixing you up proper!"

Until now, he'd shaved off other aspects of his basic healing to crank up the speed like mad.

"Then cut the damn pain from the start, you mad scientist fuck—!!"

This time, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he was tweaking different parts, testing new directions.

"Pfft, pain builds character! You sacrifice for the greater good, saving lives—that's public service."

Specifically, bottoming out healing potency while ramping pain relief into negative territory. Maximizing recovery prognosis and infection resistance to avoid complications—a torture... er, treatment ability.

"No scars, smooth skin as a going-away gift to society. Consideration for a soon-to-be-civvie like you."

—Even for a spec-ops vet, scars sucked. To thrive post-discharge, no one wanted a body full of gashes. He just wanted ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to heal it pristine.

"I hate Kim Chomo for not appreciating this! Trampling my 'pure intentions' like this!"

Sweat beaded on the medic's brow as he poured his pure-hearted best into the art of medicine.

"GRAAAAH, I refuse treatment—!! Refuse! I'll convert to some cult today, just stop—!!"

"Tch, didn't army teach you combat readiness is key? Shut up and take it!"

For a matching stretch of time, bloody tears streamed from Kim Chomo's eyes.

Harsh payback for his insolence, but high-interest loans were like that. Shouldn't have taken the aggro loan to begin with.

The pig-slaughter screams in the infirmary finally ceased an hour after ability activation.

Of course, not everyone got this happy defensive ending.

As gate monsters thinned out, encounter dates and times varied.

"Huh...? What, uh... uh?!"

"Uwaaah, total clusterfuck! Incoming imperialists like those U.S. redheads—!!"

Gates always spat out intelligent, speaking beings once monsters cleared.

"Whoa, what's this... Smaller than the first grabs, but way more of 'em?"

Some were repeat alien marines with pointy ears.

"Tch, Eastern Front got burned approaching friendly. Guideline: blast first, talk later."

Maybe burned once by the reverse-slavery-to-coolie-trade success of those alien marines.

"Per Major General's directive: on intelligent contact, immediate fire!"

"...Intelligent confirmed! Per preemptive strike protocol... ALL UNITS, FIRE—!!"

Diplomacy with the next intel beings started with iron instead of words.

0 or 1. Dead or alive. For a binary-signal civ, the cost of first strike was steep.

Armed drones outnumbering wasps, suicide swarms eclipsing bees blanketed the sky.

"...Ha... total clusterfuck. Those frog-headed bastards..."

Tit-for-tat with kill-for-kill cost countless young lives in KIA notices.

Watchers of one hegemon and one challenger hegemon sinking live.

Before Mother Nature's abusive climate slap wiped out "scientific" Earth.

"...All is vanity, utter vanity..."

"Ah, should've ditched studying for fire-worshipper life—Mom was wrong—!!"

Despairing they'd vanish first, extreme nihilism spewed forth...

Vmmm...!!

"...Yeah, death's here. But let's go down swinging."

"God, Odin, Buddha, or Flying Spaghetti Monster... look upon us."

Bracing for final clash with incoming intel beings.

"At least die cool." Mindset shift.

"...What? Looks like an earring? ...Stuck it in. Nothing changed?"

"Ah, can you hear me? Short-ear species? Glad translation works."

"...Fuck, hold up. What?"

Soon after, Korea's frontline got humanity's first friendly intel contacts.

"...We ain't dying?"

Those who seek life shall die; those who seek death shall live. Timeless truth.

It started post-violent encounter.

Not long after wounds healed by the torture-tech-or-doc medic.

"What the hell, special forces on rotation duty? Do these fuckers have brains?!"

"You're battalion-level. Soldiers rotate spots every few months."

"...This special forces?"

After swapping living zones with another battalion per the ancient manual.

"Argh, discharge soon—couldn't they just let me ETS there."

"...ETS... dunno. Anyway, do your best while here—that's soldiering."

Despite short service left, grinding souls relentlessly.

"Ugh, post-discharge, I'll shit on this unit's doorstep..."

Kim Chomo, sucking forests dry inside gates, fist-fighting monsters.

"Aigoo... done. Gotta hand my body to that damn sadist again."

Grumbling, dragging overclock aftermath body in retreat.

Chill...!!

Far off, less massive than last energy pillar, less threatening.

Full-health him could stall one; multiples speeding this way? Bad.

"Heh, guess it's my turn..."

Resigned to his slot, plopping ass-down.

"!%!#?"

"...Fuck, what? I barely handle one language—speak understandable..."

Elementary to college job-English incompatible alien tongue-twister. King Sejong cursing barbarians.

Cheap last words before ear-sticking their gadget.

"...So this auto-translates for your species? Game-changer!"

"Yes. Side effect: reads minds. Lies show."

"...Oh, fuck. Life-ruiner. Fucked."

Obvious interrogation device. Kim Chomo groaned.

"Sigh, fine. Our base beyond that gate... definitely kill the medic ripping limbs. That covers me..."

Quickly playing POW.

"...Pardon? No, area's monster habitat. Here to say ditch relocation plans."

"...What."

Pure goodwill blindsided the poor Korean, nothing like expected.

"Wait! What? No fight?! U.S. redheads were slavers!"

POW to "work sets you free" braced soldier.

Intel beings head-tapped him clean—in a good way—panicking them.

"...To us, you're just short-eared intel beings..."

"Ah, all relative."

Near-human big-eared bipeds. Communicative even with attachments.

Mostly human-form plus add-ons.

Lightning-fast, long-eared beings sparked Earth's first hope.

"Argh, gut hurts... Why do they always luck out!!"

Nations bleeding from gates? Jealousy inevitable.

"Hey, we got hope too. Not all portals doom us with psycho races."

"...Yeah? Our shot?"

"Enlist now, you draft-dodging shits."

For vast lands with abundant "national fuckery tickets" aka gates? Hope incarnate.

Over species extinction? "Bad draw?" was cute ribbing.

Soon, neighbor Japan got next friendlies.

"Woof!"

"...Hold up. Why's a biped Shiba outta there? That's Akita turf?"

'Questionable tastes' crowd bait, but.

No first strike, sniffing cutely? Adorable.

"...Obvious doggo. Chocolate okay?"

Soon, snacks bought goodwill.

"...You farm-focused... live with many friends, get their byproducts."

"Hekhek..."

Drawing farm/livestock primary industry? Obvious.

Smart, high cognition—advanced thinkers.

'...Third Staff, what'd those recon twats think sending to "potential foe"?'

'Fuck, brass fucks up daily—how should I know.'

Their civ, planetary rulers.

Tech branched differently, or lagged.

"Okay, show hoe use..."

KABOOOM!!

"...ju?"

Strong body, dumb brain universal.

Earthworm head pulverized mid-burrow.

"...Nice shot. Wow, skull shards."

"Bulletproof type? ...First move on us? Our heads'd be mush."

Folks always hate non-talkers.

Sharing rations? Good guys.

Worm eyeing as meal? Crop-ruining pests anyway.

"Thanks! Bye! Next time, your chow—!!!"

Woof! Hoe-sonic-boom max-strength biped Shiba.

Gate-shuffled off pondering dinner.

"...Bitch about no captures? I'll knee-cap you."

—Death sentence. Officer or not, kneecap time.

Animal-lover failed-art-school Japanese youth muttered.

Two friendly cases gave humanity breathing room.

Korea's: "No touch till they hit."

Japan's: "Monsters are monsters everywhere."

"...So monsters nearby? Beat familiars first, then chat?"

"Duh? No ROE, no first strike."

This common sense: gates let civs and humanity ally vs monsters if not warmongers/slavers.

"Whoa, fuck... We're good. Card house still standing!!"

Homo sapiens realized doomsday clock hadn't ticked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠past midnight.

Bonus: Their world massively expanded.

"...Gotta hit JAPAN now. Worth living."

Years ahead, but inevitable.

"...What the fuck crashed to birth furball babies, you lunatic—!!"

"But they were born, right?"

Homo sapiens scope widened...

Inevitable side effect.