Chapter 19
Toward a Perfect Score (1)
I feel a little embarrassed to say this myself, but thanks to my quick thinking we avoided a group punishment: only the main culprits—Trainees 220 and 221—were singled out and dealt with.
If it had been our usual instructor, he probably would have dragged out the whole “collective responsibility” excuse and forced all of us to suffer together.
But this time he was so shocked and angry that those two had deliberately hidden spent cartridges that he simply marched them back to base at once.
Because of that, the rest of us escaped the “cartridge hell” and returned to our routine unscathed.
Well… not exactly.
We already lost our personal maintenance time combing the ground for those casings. That’s a loss in itself.
Correction: it wasn’t entirely without damage.
Still, compared to what it could have been, we got off cheap.
Of course, the reward I earned from it was enormous.
Clearing this “find the cartridges” quest pushed my accumulated bounty past the 100 million-won mark in no time.
Even so, I felt a pang of disappointment.
When am I ever going to hit ten billion?
I didn’t re-enlist just to collect a measly hundred million.
In my mind, only a haul of at least ten billion would make the whole re-enlistment ordeal feel worth it. I still had a long road ahead.
Maybe my instincts were spot-on, because danger struck again as soon as we returned to the barracks.
Only about five minutes remained before evening roll call.
The moment we heard that the duty officer tonight was the company sergeant major, I joined Seohwan and Jun in a frantic cleanup of our wall lockers.
Everyone else was doing the same.
“If it’s the sergeant major, he’s bound to check every last corner of the lockers.”
“Obviously.”
“It’s not like we haven’t been burned before.”
When we first arrived at the training center, most of the recruits—except me—were blank slates, clueless not only about military life but also about each instructor’s quirks.
But by week two they were starting to get the hang of how things worked.
Humans really are creatures of adaptation.
Moments like this prove it.
We finished our preparations in record time.
The sergeant major arrived with Assistant Instructor Park Gilyoung.
Seohwan, today’s squad leader, stood in full combat uniform to greet them.
After a quick head count, the sergeant major turned his eyes toward the lockers.
Here it comes, I thought.
Everyone else seemed just as tense; I could practically hear them swallowing dryly.
But then he surprised us.
“Tonight’s locker inspection will be skipped.”
“…Sorry, did we hear that right?”
“You’re skipping it?”
We had sacrificed what little personal time we had to tidy everything to perfection, and now—nothing.
The emptiness hit hard.
Normally, a spotless locker could earn you bonus points, so roll call was both a threat and an opportunity.
Seeing our lackluster reaction, the sergeant major teased,
“What’s this? If you’re that disappointed, should I go ahead and inspect after all?”
“No, sir!”
“Apologies, sir!”
No matter how hard you prepared, if he wanted to nitpick he’d always find something.
Better to avoid the risk entirely.
It wasn’t as if I alone lost a chance for extra points; everyone was in the same boat.
He explained why he’d skipped the inspection.
“I’m here to brief you on the remaining second-week schedule. Tomorrow we’ll resume the live-fire exercise that was delayed because some idiot hid cartridges. I still can’t believe it.”
He added that in all his years he’d never once seen a recruit hide cartridges just to give them to a girlfriend.
“I’ll say this: anyone who fails to hit at least twelve out of twenty rounds tomorrow will have to do an extra live-fire session later. Be ready.”
Seohwan shot his hand up.
“Trainee No. 44 Kang Seohwan! Sir, when is the extra session?”
The sergeant major smiled devilishly.
“Saturday morning.”
“…”
“If you don’t want to give up your weekend, you’d better hit at least twelve. Understood?”
“All understood, sir!” we answered in unison.
I joined the chorus, of course.
I was fairly confident I could hit more than twelve, but… confidence doesn’t always equal results.
It had been a long time since I’d handled a K-2 rifle.
I couldn’t help worrying that I might not shoot as well as I hoped.
Still, money has a way of focusing the mind.
After roll call ended and the sergeant major moved on, I opened the updated quest window that had appeared just before lights-out.
[Rare Quest Generated]
Score a perfect hit in the live-fire exercise.
Reward: 50 million won
My training-camp goal was a total of one billion won—about a tenth of my ultimate target of ten billion.
To make that realistic, I had to grab every opportunity.
That meant scoring a perfect twenty.
Time to bring back the sharpshooting skills they used to call “marksman-level.”
I was already looking forward to tomorrow.
The live-fire range was different from the zeroing range we’d used before.
It was far from the base—so far that walking there would have been like a preview of a long-distance march.
We traveled by truck instead.
Before departure, the instructor warned,
“Anyone caught dozing during the ride will get demerits and extra drills. Stay sharp! Understood?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Driver, if you’re ready, start the engine.”
The drivers answered with a spirited “Yes, sir!” and the trucks rumbled to life, shaking violently.
I’d ridden in military trucks before, but I never get used to that awful ride.
Once we left the base and hit the road, the drowsiness fairy attacked.
Seohwan and Jun’s heads began bobbing like sick chickens.
“Hey, wake up.”
I jabbed their sides hard.
They startled awake.
“Whoa! You scared me!”
“Seriously!”
“Scared? Good—now you’re awake.”
A poke in the ribs is the best cure for drowsiness.
Besides, it really is dangerous to sleep in a moving truck.
After a while the range came into view.
The convoy halted in perfect formation, just as the army loves.
“Everyone, dismount!”
“Dismount!”
We jumped down one by one.
The live-fire range was massive—two or three times bigger than the zeroing range—drawing awed gasps.
“It’s huge.”
“No kidding.”
“Are those the targets? How are we supposed to hit those?”
Some recruits were clearly worried.
That infamous 250-meter mark looked daunting to the naked eye.
I remembered thinking the same thing my first enlistment.
The program randomly assigned three firing lanes, so memorizing the order was useless.
As with the zeroing session, each firing group chanted the safety rules while waiting; those not yet up continued with PRI drills.
Our group, which included Seohwan and me, was near the front, so we only had about ten minutes of PRI before being called.
The sooner we finish, the better, I thought.
“Next—Seventh Squad, to position!”
“To position!”
Finally our turn.
Beside me, Seohwan inhaled and exhaled rapidly, visibly nervous.
“What if I don’t hit twelve…?”
“Hey, don’t psych yourself out before we start. Just shoot like you did during zeroing. You were great then.”
Shooting is as much about mindset as skill.
We recited the safety rules and waited.
“Assistant instructor! Send up Squad 7.”
“Yes, sir!”
At the company commander’s order we stepped forward, heavy with tension.
Once on the range, each recruit loudly announced their assigned lane.
“Lane 8!” I called and moved there, where Instructor Park Gilyoung greeted me.
“We’ll start with standing fire. Place your rifle on the rest and wait.”
“Yes, sir!”
Ten rounds standing, ten rounds prone—twenty in total.
“Magazine transfer.”
“Magazine transfer.”
He handed me a heavy, fully loaded magazine.
After so many empty drills, its weight felt different.
Was it always this heavy? This cold?
A flood of thoughts ran through me.
How did I manage my very first time?
“Bolt forward.”
“Bolt forward!”
Clack! Silence fell, stretching seconds into what felt like eternity.
Then the company commander’s voice cut through the stillness.
“From prepared shooters—commence fire!”
The order to shoot.
Bang!
Seohwan, right beside me, fired first.
Huh. I expected him to freeze up, but guess not.
I pulled my own trigger.
Let’s go. Toward a perfect score!
Wait for me, fifty million won—I’m coming for you!
