Chapter 22
Ghost Commotion (2)
“What? A g-ghost?”
Seohwan jerked his head up toward the second floor in shock.
For someone with a body like a mountain, he sure scared easily. He was notoriously weak against horror movies, scary games, and ghost stories. Yet, strangely enough, he never had a problem with night perimeter duty.
One of the classic topics of army talk is always ghost sightings during guard shifts.
Now that I thought about it, back in my previous service days there had been regular “ghost incidents,” too. At first I used to get startled just like Joon or Seohwan…
But in the end it always turned out to be nothing.
Knowing now what those so-called ghost incidents really were, I felt no more than mild curiosity.
“Joon, you must have seen it wrong.”
“No, I’m telling you! There was someone in that window! And those eyes… they weren’t human!”
“If it wasn’t a person, then it was probably an animal.”
“An animal that can climb up to the second floor and stare down at us? No way—it had to be a g-ghost!”
“What an overreaction.”
Despite my denial, Joon insisted he really had seen a ghost.
And that was all Seohwan needed to freak out.
“H-hey… Geumseong. Shouldn’t we report this to the duty officer? They said to use the radio if anything unusual happens.”
“For something like this? Come on.”
If I keyed the P96K radio and reported “I saw a ghost,” the obvious reply would be, Are you out of your mind?
No need to report… normally.
But one word Joon had used—eyes—stuck in my mind.
“Joon, are you sure someone was really standing there?”
“Yes! I even saw the eyes move!”
“…”
The spot where we stood wasn’t actually that far from the second-floor auditorium window.
If Joon wasn’t half-asleep, maybe he really hadn’t just imagined it.
Still, I didn’t think he’d seen a literal ghost.
My conclusion was different:
It could be an unknown intruder.
It didn’t happen often, but sometimes—rarely—civilians sneaked over the barbed wire and onto base. Most were just people out in the mountains collecting herbs or wild greens. We’d usually just give them a warning and send them home.
If someone came with the intent to defect north, though, that was serious.
I remembered how units on guard duty during actual defection incidents got chewed out badly.
The training center would be no exception.
On the other hand…
If it really is an intruder, the first reporters might even get a commendation.
For someone like me, gunning for top trainee, every little merit point mattered.
And I couldn’t forget about Han Kang-tae, the squad leader trainee hot on my heels.
I reluctantly lifted the P96K radio.
“Comm check, comm check.”
The drowsy voice of the duty soldier crackled back.
—Comm check. Who is this?
“Salute. Trainee No. 45, Lee Geum-seong.”
—…Ah, a trainee. I thought it was an officer. Scared me half to death.
His mutter came through the radio loud and clear.
Guess he’d been startled, thinking a superior had suddenly called.
Anyway, I tried again in a formal tone.
—What’s going on?
I calmly explained the situation.
“We observed an unidentified presence at the second-floor auditorium window.”
—Unidentified… presence? Not even human?
“I’m not sure. Three trainees on duty, including myself, all saw it. We believe it needs to be checked.”
Better to report than risk getting chewed out later if it was an intruder—or some test by the instructors to check if we were alert.
But the duty soldier kept asking follow-up questions, which made me think,
Doesn’t sound like a test.
If it were a drill, he wouldn’t need to keep double-checking.
—Got it. I’ll send some instructors. Stay where you are.
When the radio fell silent, Seohwan and Joon looked at me with trembling eyes.
“W-what did the instructor say…?”
“They’re coming to check.”
“S-so we don’t have to go up there ourselves, right?”
“Don’t worry. The sentry rules clearly say a guard never abandons his post no matter what.”
“Oh, that was a thing?”
They were still trainees; they wouldn’t know the standing guard rules well.
I, on the other hand, had those rules drilled into me relentlessly during my prior service—hard to forget even years later.
Five minutes later:
Thud, thud.
Heavy bootsteps approached. Corporal Park Gil-young and Lance Corporal Joo Yong-hyuk came our way, both looking grim, probably dragged out of bed.
“Unidentified person? Where exactly did you see something?”
While Joo Yong-hyuk stifled yawns, Corporal Park questioned us briskly.
Shaking, Joon pointed.
“T-there! The second-floor window. It’s gone now, but someone was definitely there!”
“Hmm… yeah?”
Park pulled out a flashlight and shone it toward the auditorium stairs.
“Yong-hyuk.”
“Lance Corporal Joo Yong-hyuk. Corporal Park, you’re not saying we have to go up there, are you?”
“You guessed it. Let’s go. Follow me.”
“Sigh…”
With a long breath, Joo forced his reluctant feet to move.
They climbed the stairs, flashlight beams sweeping every corner.
Beside me, Seohwan muttered under his breath,
“Should’ve brought a talisman before enlisting…”
Now that he mentioned it, would a talisman even be considered contraband at enlistment?
I wondered idly, but soon the instructors came back and delivered the verdict.
“There’s nobody there,” Corporal Park said. “The auditorium is always locked at night to prevent unauthorized entry. Whatever you saw wasn’t a ghost or anything else—just a tired mind playing tricks.”
Honestly, I agreed.
The old me would have just nodded, Knew it, Sergeant.
But now…
After experiencing a time-loop rebirth, who’s to say ghosts don’t exist?
Still, even if they did,
It’s not like a ghost can get me discharged early.
Just a small incident, nothing more.
I’d finish my shift and go get some sleep.
Next morning the barracks were buzzing.
“Hey, you hear? There’s a ghost on the auditorium’s second floor!”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, the guys on the early shift saw it too.”
“Come on, there’s no such thing as ghosts.”
“Maybe there is. It’s the army. I overheard the instructors saying a soldier committed suicide there ten years ago.”
“No way…”
Of course. I’d suspected this would happen—ghost rumors spreading like wildfire.
Seohwan shivered.
“Geumseong, what if what we saw really was a ghost?”
“So what if it was? A North Korean with a gun is scarier.”
“Well, yeah… but we’re posted there again tonight. Damn, we’re screwed.”
Not just Seohwan—Joon’s eyes were already wide with dread about tonight’s duty.
This won’t do.
Looks like I’d better stay sharp myself.
Because of last night’s ghost commotion the whole unit was restless, but training went on as usual.
PRI drills, zeroing our rifles, then live-fire practice—
and next up: grenade training.
We wouldn’t throw live grenades right away; first we’d practice with dummy grenades to learn proper form. Only after that would we handle real ones.
A new quest notification appeared:
[Normal Quest Created]
Complete grenade training safely.
Reward: 3,000,000 won.
Huh, not a big payout this time.
I’d hoped for a bigger reward, but fair enough.
Compared to live-fire shooting, grenade training was simpler: pull the safety clip, remove the pin, and toss it into the pit.
Still, it wasn’t something to take lightly; a single mistake could be disastrous.
Even with practice grenades, trainees looked more tense than grim.
“Stop!” Instructor Park Gil-young shouted.
“Remove helmets and rest in place for ten minutes. Move!”
“Move!” we echoed.
I dropped to the ground, finally able to breathe.
The lack of sleep from last night’s ghost fuss was catching up with me.
It’ll blow over in a day, I thought.
Just then, I overheard instructors talking—words I couldn’t ignore.
“Corporal Park, the chief instructor said if ghost reports keep coming today, we’ll move the night guard post starting tomorrow.”
“Where to?”
“The old ammo-dump outpost, near the CBR training site.”
“Near the chemical warfare training grounds?”
“Yes.”
Wait—near the CBR training area?
That meant climbing the mountain at night.
Great. Just great.
No way I’m letting that happen.
