The Scariest Shots Come from Within
The world might change, but most folks just keep living like they always have. Even if the whole globe's barreling toward total war.
Korea's got that DNA where skipping school feels like a death sentence, right?
"Ugh, they fucked up the curriculum again. What kinda bullshit is it when dropping out after one fuck-up is the smart play?"
"Leave 'em be. They're just itching to restructure their own rice bowls. Cancelling electives 'cause enrollment's low? Makes no damn sense."
Sure, the rote memorization crap they used to shove down throats won't last—AI's gonna replace most of it soon enough. Can't force it like the old days.
But while the current gen's dying off, investment in the kids? Not a penny cut. Cheers to that.
Meanwhile, active-duty grunts like us? Life's a nonstop shitshow of ruined plans and raw deals.
"You think one feel-good story's worth delaying my discharge by a week?!"
"Dude! No one else'll do it if you don't! Selfish prick—fine by you if the army turns into monster chow?!"
Maybe all the flashy scandals lately killed off the old brazen "lifestyle perks" era. Now the military's gotta watch public opinion.
"What era you think this is? Ignoring public safety for your own glory?!"
"...Tch. Sounds like the bullshit my dad spewed back in his day."
For career soldiers, it's risky opportunity. For conscripts? Pure wartime despair.
Stars bloated on their rank's power won't let ace ability users discharge easy.
"Nation's in crisis, and you dare discharge?! Abandoning your country?! No patriotism?!"
"...Haa."
While we're wrestling monsters in our undies, no way back to society, they threaten.
"Hah, reserves are dodging mobilization as student-reserves. You think I'm nuts enough to drag this crap out?"
Problem is, the guy's rolled in the dirtiest shit military history's seen.
"Wha—what?!"
"Plus, I'm sick all the time, busy with certs... Anyway, even if I die, no military-related bullshit for me!"
No reward for devotion—just more "serve the homeland" nonsense.
He's got the balls to say "Fuck off!" to brass right in their face.
"Damn it! This is why kids these days suck! Nothing more important than defending the nation!"
Obviously, brass assuming "college boy'll get it" got pissed.
"What? Discharge? Hah, joke? Without ability users, we can't hold the front..."
Line officers blindsided—their ace unit star showing outright resentment.
Figured his solid performance meant he loved the army.
"At least hint you couldn't do it! Finish everything then bail—how?!"
Who thinks we're chanting "Just a bit more and outta this hell...!!"?
Flirting this hard? Grad school paper-mill would've been innocent.
"No dice. Day before discharge... tie him down somehow."
Voluntary researchers dodging lab? Lasso 'em in.
Post-consent fixes everything, right? Seen it somewhere...
"Kya, as expected from a vet. Whole different league! Senior!"
"Population cliff and all—when else to stock talent? Can't let society snag 'em all!"
National Defense University's got grad programs—no shock there.
Back from long vacation, unit vibe soured by brass bullshit trying to snag him.
But Defense Ministry clock ticks on—last evening roll call of his life hits.
Even if shit's weird,
"Any issues or requests?"
"None!!!"
Silent group pressure: GTFO already for the duty officer.
"Done! Fuck, this bullshit ends now!"
Post-basic, first "I'm out, you spin the wheel" mindset relapse.
Frequent moves finally yield non-container life—dancing to holy TV tunes in barracks.
That goddamn Silroam pick? Begging for death, right?
No faith, but trip memories don't reset?
"I'm off! You fuckers ♬ ain't serving! Work break, dream big!"
Kim Chomo's soul-dance aggro'd the whole platoon—price was brutal.
"Grab that fucker! Begging for the stick, crazy bastard won't go quiet on last day!"
From sergeant days, casual talk fixed with buds.
Post-vacation discharge? Seniors are just uncles now.
"Kraaak, Il-hwan! What the hell!! Set precedent, you're next!"
"Fuck you, not Nonsan but I know the drill! Die!"
Even post-discharge, real pal Jeong Il-hwan's blanket-Kim roll-up.
Affection-laced PTSD-boosted hate-lynch hits.
Thwack!
"Live well out there! If we beat ya too hard and you croak, next life treat better!"
Thwack!
"Had nice reserve uniform send-off, but you earn the stick! Thighs⁵ not enough!"
Blessing-half, envy-half loving senior rolling paper-touch ends.
"Hya, body aches keeping me up or excitement? Dunno."
Countdown thrill hits.
Hellish days flash by...
"Hey... Chomo. Not asleep? ...No, quit faking. This guy."
Fwaaash---!!
"Euuuh?!"
Tonight's duty officer spots him awake? Blasts "Let there be light" power in eyes.
"Wha... what. At dawn."
Private? Casual smack, bulb under eyelids.
But chief sergeant brass—till midnight, cursing screws him.
"Didn'... wanna wake ya, sorry. You post-vacay, first patrol tonight..."
--Radio's on? Noise... Kid no reply...
Rude wake-up forgiven in this pinch.
"...Sigh, got it. Gear light, heading out."
"Thanks. Morning goer, owing ya to end."
Clean exit AM anyway—last gift no regret.
"Ugh, rook fumbling already?"
Sniper busy, spotter forgot comms...
Kim Chomo jogs recon coords, basic gear to patrol spot.
"Oh, here. All rifles up! Intruder spotted! Move an inch, fire authorized!"
Click!
Never-seen normal grunts aiming up at him.
"What? Thought fumbling rook pair—instead uncle and weirder uncle?"
Situation OS lagging in sleepy dawn air?
"Now, Sergeant Kim Chomo! I got two proposals for you..."
Slap---!!
Or gut sensing doom—who knows now.
Before smug career grunt finishes, plants wither.
Splaaat---!!
"...Guhorguk...!!"
Brown plants match face shakes twice, gut sucks in-out.
Sneak natural-fast: one-two face, body shot.
Cheekbones caved, gut mystery but blood gushes mouth.
Pants below? Tomorrow's chow tastes like ass.
Before hushed awaiting grunts, platoon leader's body hosts the show.
"Wha—?! Wait, what the...!!"
"Wh-what! Platoon leader! Sir! Snap out! Wh-what do we do?!"
Prepped posting, but grunts' core: conscripts. Dragged in.
Leader claims intel on deserter planning solo monster war escape.
Convince 'em hot to block? Sure.
But one smack too bold—brutal soldier stands proud before 'em.
Leader's mind long gone—screams over blame await wake-up.
"Lo... whatever misunderstanding, I did jack."
Follow last orders? Start bullet delivery.
But firer-giver? One-two body, crumpled unconscious.
Awake leader'd wail "Don't wait, shoot movers!"
Fail suppress? Next bat's you.
"Th-that okay? B-but deserter suspect hunt... Just bounce?"
One sergeant conscience-mumbles "Pull back okay...?"
"Just asked to track no-signal soldier near gate."
Shaking radio blatant—deserter? Heart says no.
"Today's discharge anyway. This? Nostalgia sub-in."
"...Oh, yeah? No desert then?"
Tomorrow home? Doubts multiply.
Independence Day amnesty blind escape? Fiction.
Gate-out proud soon—flee day-before? Nah.
"Plus, your leader looks monster-ambushed once. Good?"
--Platoon leader downed by monster sneak... Life on line real-time, right?
Brazen "not unlucky accident" but "your savior" frame.
Contradict? Fight human-shaped monster pressure.
Luckily, not dumb—get it.
"Y-yeah! Invisible monster! No notice attack!"
Safe mine-free exit.
"Le-leader first! Pull back! Hey, hoist! Infirmary!"
"...Uh, weird smell below... Me carry? This..."
Non-reflex ability? Fold to monster speed—better bro-love retreat for comrade!
Watch 'em haul leader away.
"Why folks think we'll do anything ordered?"
Mission over safe discharge? 21C Korea, no defensive war—impossible, Kim Chomo feels.
Seeing off wrecked leader and grunts, duty officer's radio hits Kim Chomo's ear—peel it, tons info.
"Hmm... This timing means he don't know. This mess."
One: Duty clueless or minimal. Nice guy usually, wake-up suspicious but.
"Picked prime solo-patrol guy obvious."
Non-ability can't solo-search—makes sense.
Two: Radio fail? No—orders from someone.
"Army vet blanks basic channel swap?"
Nah, "Do this here" command clear.
Silent? "For real?" But constant press unnoticed? Bull.
"...Roger, slow careful return. Might take time."
Radio side-button end-report to duty.
Thwack!!
Leftovers plant energy leg-thrust focus.
"Planned frame one grunt...?"
--Flip: Grunt "oops"? Go easy, right?
Slow radioed, but night short, time precious.
"Bully me? Smash face pre-excuse."
Why ignore last-years crank world's scariest?
Homebound kid wonders.
Too late excuses now.
"Diamond start, seen long-range arty... Why miss truth?"
Bad train? Pay body-price universal.
Still-lit noisy unit building side small annex.
"Teaching now."
Battalion Commander quarters—no.1 tongs tutor lands for lesson.