Terraforming: Not All Trainees Join the Protest
Ultimately, not every trainee went to protest. Two had turned down Ri Shaolin's invitation.
Of course, those two were me and Lee Kangin.
"…You're refusing?"
"Yes. I intend to keep training."
"Don't you get it? This only works as a protest if all the trainees join in!"
"I understand."
"Hmm… You don't seem like the oblivious type… What a shame."
"Yeah, I'm pretty perceptive, actually. That's why I made this choice."
Ri Shaolin's eye twitched at my words. Lee Kangin's tone had carried an undertone of 'You guys made the wrong call.'
The girls who hung out with Ri Shaolin shot Lee Kangin pleading looks, urging him to side with them… but he didn't even glance their way.
Separating work from personal matters, huh.
The novel hadn't delved into the protagonist's relationships with minor extras, so I had no idea.
Ri Shaolin shot Lee Kangin a dissatisfied glare before turning to me.
"And you? Why?"
"I chose to undergo this training of my own free will."
"…With one already out, two won't make much difference anyway."
It would've been great if the conversation ended there, but Ri Shaolin wasn't sharp enough for that.
Her voice was low. But more than enough for everyone gathered to hear.
"…Unlike that guy, you don't even look useful. You look like a total parasite at first glance… Actually, this works out better."
Anyone could tell she was talking about me.
What a bitch. I get that you're pissed, but I'm not your punching bag.
"Who knows? You don't look all that capable yourself."
"What? What did you just say?"
"It means you're no leader who can rally anyone."
"You! Got anything else to say?"
"Spot on. I'm fucking ugly, yeah. But why should I hear it from you? You my friend or something?"
"…Well…"
"Sigh… We're adults here—watch your mouth. Judging looks is shitty, sure, but I'll let it slide. Plenty of people do it… Except—"
I sized up appearances myself sometimes, so I wasn't about to play the hypocrite. Double standards were gross.
But…
"—when you say it out loud, that's crossing the line."
The area had gone dead silent, so everyone heard our exchange.
My words rang true, plain and simple. These were modern folks at heart. They'd all been taught that discriminating by race or looks was wrong. I wasn't expecting full support, but at least the bias against me based on appearance would ease up a bit.
"Don't let a minor hiccup in your plans make you emotional. The people backing you are watching. Your credibility as a leader is tanking right now."
"…Mind your own business."
"Fine, one more unasked-for tip: Your half-baked plan? I can kinda see through it… and it's gonna fail."
"I have a plan too! It's not like I haven't thought this through…!"
"Sure, whatever. Good luck getting what you want, then."
I yawned, feigning boredom to piss her off more.
It worked. Ri Shaolin's face crumpled as she glared at mine.
The air between us thickened with hostility.
This conflict wasn't in the original story at all.
Lee Kangin, who refused alone, would later earn goodwill from the others with lines like, 'Damn, you knew this would happen, huh?'… But if my clash with Ri Shaolin changed her mind, it could derail the plot.
Still, I opposed her.
Why? No grand reason. I just couldn't stomach it.
She picked a direct fight, and I didn't feel like holding back.
That's all.
Don't laugh. This matters—a line I won't cross.
If I had to dress it up: Acting timid in speech and mannerisms subconsciously makes you timid overall. Even if it's an act, the effect lingers.
This personality I barely fixed through effort…
I guarded against that fiercely.
Sticking to the original plot mattered, but I mattered more.
If I let Park Chanyoung's body turn my mind into his too, there'd be no going back.
Ri Shaolin's eyes were sharp. Sharper than Chris Bennett's. A fierce beauty, like a lioness.
The original Park Chanyoung couldn't have faced a beauty like her head-on—especially one looking so feral.
But I didn't flinch.
"…Fine. Do what you want. Just don't expect to freeload off what we achieve together."
Was she aware of the fifty-odd pairs of eyes on us? Surprisingly, Ri Shaolin backed down a step.
I'd prodded her to flare up more… Guess my words hit home. Her flushed face strained to suppress her emotions.
At least she wasn't a total idiot.
"Don't worry, I'm no parasite. By the way, back home we have a saying: 'Don't sip the kimchi soup first.' Kinda fits here, don't you think?"
"Pfft…"
Lee Kangin, standing beside me, burst out laughing—he got the jab about not counting chickens before they hatched.
Ri Shaolin shot me one last glare, ignored my remark, and turned away.
Taiwan's top bitch, my ass.
"Ah! Sis! Wait up!"
The crowd surged toward the instructors, leaving just me and Lee Kangin behind.
Though I'd snapped at Ri Shaolin in the heat of the moment, the original plot seemed intact.
Lee Kangin, who'd been stifling laughs, turned to me. His gaze had shifted.
Before, it was like looking at a random pebble. Now, it was like appraising a decent scholar's rock.
"Chanyoung… you're more fun than I thought. And…"
"Yes?"
"Any other reason you didn't join that girl's group? Feels like there's more to it than just choosing training voluntarily."
Lee Kangin eyed me expectantly.
Is this a test?
A reason… He looked like he had the "right" answer in mind.
I knew what he wanted to hear.
Would giving it help me?
After a beat, I answered.
"No reason. No way the instructors will cave to our demands."
"A reason…? Sure there is. If we demand as a group, they can't ignore us."
"Here's the key insight: Every month, 100 people arrive at the Shelter… Over half assigned as trainee combatants? That's way too many."
A steady 1,200 new adults a year was a burden, excluding births.
Few kids, elderly, or disabled among the 100—mostly able-bodied adults.
In the Shelter's pre-civilization state, 100 productive adults were a huge boon.
If this were Earth.
"You're right… Even for a high-mortality job, half is excessive."
"It probably wasn't always this lopsided. Primary producers—builders, bug-killers, water suppliers, farmers—are saturated. So surplus manpower gets funneled into combatants."
"But with fields overstaffed, why are people starving? Didn't you see on the way here? Folks so gaunt their bones showed…"
Lee Kangin's words conjured the Shelter's outskirts dwellers. Everything lacked: food, clothes, hygiene, dignity.
As long as they existed, no one could claim abundance.
Resources were scarce.
But manpower overflowed.
This contradiction held here.
"This world's not ruled by humans. Monsters claim territories everywhere… Land for farming is the bottleneck. Right now, they need combatants most."
"You mean…"
"Combatants to drive out monsters and expand farmland. Combatants with high death rates to trim numbers. Only now does shoving this abnormal ratio into combat make sense."
Monsters kept population growth ahead of food production.
That vast forest wasn't empty land—it had monstrous owners.
Even 100 new adults couldn't farm without land.
I'd nailed it.
I'll give the right answer, Lee Kangin. How'll you react?
Whether it was truly "right" for me, I didn't know. But it'd advance my primary goal.
No hesitation once started.
I caught my breath after the long spiel, ready for the conclusion.
"In short, Central Command likely ordered the instructors: Make every trainee a combatant unless exceptional circumstances. Our demands won't sway that."
"…Plausible."
"Exactly. So the instructors' response to these trainees' baseless demands is predictable."
"They'll reject them."
"Plus resentment for the gall. Even we non-participants won't escape. In a world with corporal punishment, guilt by association feels likely. Training ahead will be harsher than last batch…"
I sighed deeply.
In the novel, Lee Kangin—teacher's pet of Chris Bennett—skipped grueling sessions. But somehow, friction had sparked between them. No skipping for him now.
"How'd you deduce all that from so little info…? Incredible insight… Unbelievable…"
"You seemed to grasp it too, Kangin. You already knew?"
"…I did. But my reason differs from yours. In the past, with the same info, I…"
"Didn't share quarters with me here? Oh, maybe from that pre-training interview with the instructors."
"Haha. Yeah, let's go with that."
Lee Kangin trailed off mid-sentence.
I could guess the rest: He'd regressed, so he knew.
"…An answer way beyond expectations. Hiding a gem like you…"
"Pardon?"
I caught his mutter— this body's ears were sharp.
But I played dumb. He couldn't know I knew about his regression.
Not yet.
"Haha! Nothing!"
The chat showed him my value somewhat. Now, build trust and rapport with Lee Kangin.
My top priority: 'A wise ally and friend to consult on key choices.'
Perfect for controlling the protagonist.
*
Cowardly bastards!
Two guys who didn't join the group stepped forward. Their thoughts were obvious.
The Japanese guy had gotten beaten, scaring them. Even the pig dude, who hadn't been directly targeted!
The Japanese victim and five other guys had bravely joined despite that mad bitch's antics.
Yet these two chickened out?
Useless! Even if they'd joined, I'd have culled them myself!
I wasn't demanding no training—just lower intensity. A fair compromise for instructors.
Me, no plan? Too ridiculous to refute.
Violence scared me too, sure.
That pathetic Japanese guy with downcast eyes? Back then, the vibe was 'he deserved it' for crossing lines. Violence was harsher than warranted, but those five this dawn were guilty too.
But this time was different.
We'd done nothing wrong. This was a justified demand.
Whether it truly was didn't matter—what mattered was others seeing us as reasonable.
Reasonable demands met with baseless rejection and one-sided violence?
Perfect. These 50-plus will unite more. Against the common enemy: instructors!
Acceptance: Gain.
Rejection: Bigger gain.
The biggest win: Me!
That crazy bitch looked brainless… A little provocation, and she'll swing!
Even if she hit me, it wouldn't maim. If it went too far, the bald instructor would intervene like always.
Male instructors had been reasonable—solid basis for the plan.
If demands rejected?
Take a few hits, collapse, sob hysterically. Objectively, I'm a beauty. Man or woman, seeing a beauty victimized unjustly triggers protectiveness.
Especially tears from the woman who stepped up for them?
No brainer. I'd snag sympathy votes, top protection from the group.
If accepted? Easier training. Hero status: Fearless leader who braved violence. Wise deal-maker worthy of following. Leader protected by underlings—natural.
Either way: Win. Prioritized protection from nearly 50!
A small smile crept up.
Oops, gotta manage expressions. Play innocent for sympathy…
Thinking of the plan, clashing with the pig first was a slip.
Shouldn't have mocked him upfront.
But his voice grated—maybe his ugliness just soured my mood.
My plan half-baked? Ha!
Wanted to tell the pig: Mine's complete, profitable any way it goes. Unlike you, I've got guts to take hits for it.
But held back. Too many eyes. Showing calculation kills sympathy.
Still, frustration bubbled. Emotions always tripped me up.
Plans solid, but I couldn't control feelings, ruining everything.
…Not this time.
Try talking first. If violence, tears. If negotiation vibe, bargain. State demands upfront…
The instructors loomed close now. (Technically, we'd approached them.)
Tried staying calm, but the mad bitch's unpredictability tensed me up.
Reviewed the plan mentally, then spoke.
"Instructor. We've unified our opini—"
"This batch is naive. Ringleader stepping up bold like this… Makes it easy."
Slap—!
Eh?
My cheek burned. A second later, I realized: I'd been slapped before uttering a word.