Chapter 1

Chapter 001

"Attention!"

In front of the old guardhouse, the corporals and soldiers stood in formation. These were the people who had spent anywhere from a few months to two years and four months with me, and they looked at me with determined expressions.

"Salute to Lieutenant Lee Chan-seok!"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

Even the squad leaders, who usually had their fingers curled like Parkinson's disease, now stood perfectly straight and saluted with precision.

In response, I saluted with a determined expression, like a hero leaving the battlefield.

"Sir, yes, sir!"

We saluted each other sharply and then looked at each other for a moment.

"Hey, Lee Chan-seok, are you really leaving?"

Hehe.

One of my peers at the front changed the serious atmosphere with a mix of relief and regret.

This sparked a flood of voices.

"Why are you leaving, sir? You're like a Swiss Army knife for our unit! Come back as a battery commander!"

"Man, I don't know what our battalion commander is thinking. They should keep someone like you."

"Tsk, who would have thought the lieutenant would be discharged before me."

The guys, who usually wouldn't dare say such things, now spoke without hesitation. Their words made me feel truly close to them.

"Guys, I haven't left the guardhouse yet. Want to give me a pep talk here?"

"Hey, Lieutenant, did you know that if you give up on long-term service, you'll suffer from lame-duck syndrome?"

"That's right. Maybe you want to relive your cadet days... or suffer from PTSD?"

They teased me, bringing up my past, even in the face of threats.

Yes, these are the people who shared my youth.

I joined the military as a Reserve Officer Training Corps (ROTC) cadet and served for two years and four months.

The bonds forged in the dirt and dust of the front lines proved that they wouldn't easily fade.

"Did you not get enough of the farewell bread?"

"No, who sleeps in a sleeping bag these days? A real man gets beaten up in the field."

They bid me farewell with genuine words, and before I knew it, a lump in my throat burst out.

"Damn you guys..."

"What? What did you say? Do you want more beatings?"

"If you want to write a letter, go ahead. Oh, now that you're a civilian, will you go to the police station to file a report?"

Their words, though filled with genuine concern, were just attempts to keep me from leaving.

I took a deep breath and called out with sincerity.

"Guys, thank you for everything! I'm off!"

I was in the same uniform I wore when I first transferred, with a sharply creased beret.

Since I had already packed my belongings, I only carried a small bag as I turned to leave the guardhouse.

At the same time, the familiar voices echoed in my ears.

"Don't forget you still have to do reserve duty!"

"Stay in touch when you're out in the real world!"

Thinking that if I lingered any longer, I'd miss my bus, I waved goodbye to my dear friends.

"Get hit by a car on your way!"

To the guy who ruined the movie-like scene of my back view, I gave a middle finger as I waved.

Did they understand my message? They probably saluted me with a middle finger behind my back, just as they always did.

Knowing this, I didn't look back. It wasn't because of the warm weather making my eyes moist.

Though I had entered and exited the main gate dozens, even hundreds of times, my steps now felt different.

With each step, I felt myself moving away from my past and toward my future.

My life as a soldier may have just ended, but it marked the beginning of a new life.

Like the sergeants who walked confidently with all their confidence gathered in their chests, I felt a strange sense of anticipation beyond the bittersweet feeling.

How much I had envied those who transferred in later and got to go home earlier.

Every time, I would secretly cry more than the sweat I shed during marches.

The heavy steps I took to the guardhouse became lighter as soon as I passed the barricade, and soon I was walking freely like an excited child.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

'This is the breath of a civilian.'

It felt different. Just the absence of the smell of a goat that hadn't been washed in years made it feel new.

I was savoring this feeling, the freedom given to me, and the future that awaited me.

'What should I do first? Drink heavily with friends? Or go on a trip I've only seen in vlogs? No, I should get a girlfriend first.'

The imagination I had done countless times filled my mind again, but this time, I wouldn't just imagine.

I was now a free man, a sacred soldier who had fulfilled his national duty.

When I opened my eyes, I would be greeted by a colorful and beautiful world, not the drab military green that made me feel like I had PTSD.

When had I last felt each of my senses one by one?

As the sense of patriotism left, a wave of emotion filled the void.

Vroom.

'Ah, this is the sound of a car on a civilian road... or is it?'

If a Korean company had made such a noisy car, it would have gone bankrupt long ago.

The voice that followed.

"Lieutenant Lee Chan-seok!"

The voice came from behind, not the free world in front of me, but from the dark hell.

No matter how much I might miss it, they wouldn't call me back so urgently after just 30 seconds.

Putting aside the enjoyment of my newfound freedom and with a sense of curiosity, I turned my head.

A blinding light and the familiar military green greeted me. A two-ton truck filled my vision.

It was too late to avoid it. The driver, who made eye contact with me, looked clearly panicked.

"Get out of the way!"

"Vroom!"

A scream and a horn sounded. But perhaps because I had already stepped into the free world, or because it had been too long since I was discharged, my body didn't move as it used to.

"Ah..."

A short exclamation. That was my last word.

Bang!

My body was thrown and rolled, I don't know how many times.

I flew toward the road in front of the base and felt my strength drain from my body.

My face, pressed against the asphalt, felt wet. It was warm, probably my own blood.

My head was facing the base. As my consciousness faded, the base came into view.

Strangely, I didn't feel fear of death, but a random thought came to mind.

'If I die outside the base... will the insurance pay out properly?'

I had no family to receive the insurance, but I was worried about not getting the money.

'Nah... they wouldn't dare. I'm still a soldier today...'

But who knows? I had already reported my discharge, and since I was outside the base, they might try to weasel out of it.

Thinking this, a curse slipped out.

'Damn...'

But my mouth didn't move. My vision went dark, and the base disappeared from sight. Soon, my thoughts faded as well.

***

There's a saying, "Returning to the hill where one was born." It means that a fox, when dying, turns its head toward the hill where it was born, symbolizing a return to one's roots. My death was exactly like that.

Lee Chan-seok, the pitiful soul who died looking at the base even in his last moments.

Sure, let's say that my deep patriotism and camaraderie made me long for the base until the end.

But that doesn't mean I longed for the military.

"Salute to the new company commander!"

Snap!

The men saluted me with determined expressions, their hands raised and voices firm.

Their pale skin and mustaches clearly indicated they weren't from Korea.

Blue coats and red pants. The colorful uniforms made them look like toy soldiers, but their eyes showed they were living, breathing humans.

I returned their salute with a familiar gesture.

"Captain Morel, a word, please."

My only sergeant, Fabien, approached and whispered. It was my first meeting with the soldiers.

"...I am Morel Berger."

My voice, awkwardly heavy, echoed, and everyone froze.

Though it felt strange, the introduction came out smoothly. Since it was our first meeting, I planned to give a simple introduction and a brief message of goodwill.

Starting with something relatable.

"You probably think you'll finish your three years of mandatory service and be done with it."

Next, some motivation.

"But as long as I'm here, it won't be that easy."

Finally, a formal greeting.

"I hope you stay alert."

A short and powerful inaugural speech.

When I finished, their determined expressions were barely holding back the rot.

Of course, I realized it after I said it.

'Damn... That wasn't what I meant to say.'

When a new superior gives a speech that sounds like a threat, the soldiers' minds can imagine the worst scenarios, from the independence movement to the Korean War.

Thinking that any more words would only add to the misunderstanding, I quickly left the scene.

Still, my body maintained a dignified stride.

Sergeant Fabien tried to follow, but I waved him off.

Once I was off the podium and in my personal office, I took a deep breath and tried to gather my thoughts.

Leaning against the desk, I closed my eyes and replayed the events in my mind.

"It started... with that two-ton truck."

In front of the guardhouse, I was hit by a two-ton military truck and lost consciousness on the street. At that moment, I was certain I had died.

I died. I thought that would be the end, but when I opened my eyes, I found myself in the body of Morel Berger.

"Is that truck a reincarnation vehicle?"

A reincarnation truck from a Japanese novel? But what made me even angrier was...

"Why did I reincarnate into the military instead of a different world?"

The uniform, the pistol, and the language. Most importantly, Berger's memories clearly told me.

I had been dropped into the 20th-century French Army.

A country I had never visited in my previous life, the land of revolution and baguettes, France.

It was absurd enough that my respawn location was on the other side of the world, but the century was different too.

"Is this a love that transcends centuries, or a military life?"

Instead of a world with elves, orcs, and empires, I saw vivid images of trench warfare.

A world without mana and knights, but only guns, germs, and steel.

My name is Morel Berger.

A fresh graduate from Saint-Cyr Military Academy, a newly commissioned second lieutenant, and the sole heir of the Berger family.

So far, so good. At least I wasn't a rural farmer. With money, I could live comfortably anywhere, regardless of the era.

But the real problem started here.

The Jourdan Law of 1791.

Article 55: French male citizens who do not meet the conditions specified in Article 54 shall not be allowed to inherit property, regardless of whether it is direct, collateral, whole, or divided. They shall not receive any inheritance, pension, donation, establishment, or other property, and such property shall be transferred to the state treasury.

Article 54, of course, refers to military service.

In the 20th century, over a hundred years later, the French government had implemented a proper conscription system based on this law since 1905.

So, I was dragged into the military again. After serving two years and four months as an ROTC officer, I was now facing another term of service.

Worse, my time at Saint-Cyr Military Academy was not counted as mandatory service.

Of course. The French government, having invested in my education, didn't want to lose me to civilian life, so they mandated three years of service after commissioning.

"Ha ha ha..."

If I ran away, I would lose my inheritance. Of course, I couldn't flee abroad, and if I disappeared from the base, a warrant would be issued immediately.

Desertion in this era meant at least imprisonment, and in severe cases, execution.

On the other hand, if I stayed in the base? I would be stuck in the middle of a world war, trying to survive.

"Rather, One Coin Dark Soul would be easier..."

No matter what, staying in the base meant certain death.

The French front lines would be the first to be swept away when the war broke out.

It was currently 1912. The Great War was two years away, and I had three years of service left.

My name is Lee Chan-seok, or rather,

Second Lieutenant Morel Berger.

A man given a two-year death sentence by history.