IGMB 13

PRI (1)

Even after all these years, I still remember my childhood vividly.
It would be nice if that was because of many happy memories—
but unfortunately, it’s for the opposite reason.

My family was never well-off.
In fact, you could call us poor.
The biggest cause was my father’s business failure.

I was in fourth grade at the time.
Up until then I’d thought, “We’re doing okay.”
Then suddenly a group of strangers barged into our house and stuck red seizure notices on everything we owned.
I can still see it clearly.

Thanks to everyone in the family working hard, we’ve since paid off most of the debt.
Well… not all of it yet.

One reason I obsess over clearing every “quest” is because of those family circumstances.

Anyway, my family can’t pick up the phone right now, so I should try someone else.
Maybe I’ll call the guys.

Friends are all you can count on at times like this…
—or so I thought.

Two minutes later, that hope turned into regret.

How is it that not one of these punks answers?

These guys all did their military service.
They’d recognize my number the moment it popped up—“Ah, it’s Geum-seong.”
Yet every single one declined the call.

Maybe they’re in class.
Maybe at their part-time jobs.
Or maybe…

On a date.

I almost cursed out loud.
Here I am busting my back in the army while they’re out there having a carefree time with cute girlfriends.

Do they think I can’t get a girl?

I could—sort of.
But the one I like is far out of reach.

Among my college classmates there was a girl my age who dreamed of becoming an actress.
Her name: Ryu Ji-yeon.
My first love.

I’d thought about confessing many times, but for one reason or another I never did.
Ji-yeon became a well-known actress, and I stayed single.

If only back then I’d worked up the courage to tell her—
would my life have turned out differently?
That question nags me dozens of times a day.

I didn’t want more regrets.
…Do it.

Gulp.
I swallowed my dry throat along with every ounce of courage I had.

Even after all these years I still know Ji-yeon’s number by heart.

Beep, beep, beep.
My heart pounded as I tapped in the digits.
Only the call button left.
But my finger wouldn’t move.

What are you doing, Lee Geum-seong? Gonna keep hesitating and stay single forever?

Not this time.
Yes, I want business success—
but I want my love life to move forward too.

While I wrestled with myself, Instructor Joo Yong-hyeok shouted from outside:

“Two minutes left! No extra time, so wrap it up!”

“Yes, understood!”

Seo-hwan and Han Kang-tae were deep in conversation with girlfriends or family, unlike me.
I had to act.

Screw it!

Beep!
I hit call and let fate decide.

Before long—

“Hello?”

It was the voice I’d dreamed of.
Whether twenty years ago or today, her voice was still beautiful.

“Uh, h-hello? Ji-yeon, it’s me.”

“…Who’s this?”

“It’s me, Geum-seong. Lee Geum-seong.”

“Oh! What’s the occasion? You never call.”

We’d exchanged numbers long ago but only ever talked twice,
and that was just for a group project.
No wonder she sounded surprised.

“I, uh… got a phone reward in the army.
Family and friends didn’t answer, and it felt like a waste to just stand in the phone booth, so… I called you.”

Idiot.
Why can’t you just say “I missed you”?

“You’re in the army? I thought the number looked odd. Sorry, I had no idea.”

“No, it’s my fault for not saying anything.”

I’d wanted to tell her I was enlisting but, like now, lacked the courage.
Just hearing her voice felt like a miracle.

But time wasn’t on our side.

“Thirty seconds left! 29, 28, 27…”

“Ji-yeon! I have to hang up soon. If it’s okay, can I call you when I get leave?”

“Sure. Come by campus when you can—I’d love to see you.”

“Really? Okay, I will!”

I couldn’t tell if she meant it or was just being polite.
Either way, her words filled me with happiness.

As soon as we hung up, Instructor Joo barked again:

“That’s it! End the call and fall in!”

The three of us trudged back toward him.

“If you’re that eager,” he said with a smirk,
“earn more reward points and get another phone privilege next time. Got it?”

“Yes, understood!”

At first I hadn’t cared much about phone rewards.
But after hearing Ji-yeon’s voice—

Every week. I have to earn it every week!

Now it wasn’t about quests or points.
I’d sweep those rewards for my own personal reason.

We settled into the barracks for the night to wrap up the week.

Saturday morning came, the first weekend morning in training camp,
but the instructors had no intention of letting us relax.

“Next week is zeroing and live-fire training, so start firearm maintenance now. Understood?”

“Yes, understood!”

While the instructors brought the gun racks, Seo-hwan whispered to me:

“What do they mean by su-ip a gun? Not importing, right?”

“It means cleaning. Comes from the Japanese word teire—maintenance.”

Technically it should be gun cleaning,
but in the army of this time period people still said su-ip.
I wasn’t about to correct the instructors.

So I just took out the cleaning tools.
Naturally the others were confused about how to use them.
I’d been the same my first enlistment.

But this was my second tour, so cleaning a K-2 was no problem.
I connected the metal rods, attached a small cloth patch,
and shoved it deep into the barrel—
thunk, thunk, thunk!

When I pulled it out, the once-white cloth was black with oil.
Filthy.
Guess the previous user hadn’t cleaned it before discharge.
I wouldn’t have either.

Next to me, Seo-hwan tried to copy my motions.

“Why won’t this turn?”

“You have to line it up. Some rods fit, some don’t.”

“Oh… okay?”

“Try a different one.”

“Got it.”

He switched rods and, as expected, it turned smoothly.

“Whoa, that’s better.”

“Told you.”

“I keep wondering—how do you already know all this stuff?”

“Me? Just heard a lot before enlisting.”

Another harmless lie added to the pile.
No need to complicate things with the truth.

Instructor Park Gil-yeong soon appeared with a sharp warning:

“We’ll inspect your rifles at roll call and give merit or demerit points. Make sure they’re spotless!”

“Yes, understood!”

Everyone’s hands suddenly moved faster.
No one wanted demerits on the first inspection.
Me neither.

I put my heart into the cleaning.
Seo-hwan shone a light into his barrel.

“Not sure if it’s clean.”

“Let me see.”

I checked for him.
“Wipe the outer muzzle once more. There’s still grease.”

“You can see that?”

“After a few times you’ll notice it too.”

“But this is your first time seeing this gun. How—”

“Trust me. You’ll learn.”

A veteran’s eye—of course I’d notice.

I handed the rifle back and finished my own.
Done.

I placed my K-2 on the rack.

Right then Instructor Park walked in and asked curtly,
“Already finished?”

“Recruit 45, Lee Geum-seong. Yes, sir.”

“You’d better not have rushed it. The duty officer will check every gun. Sloppy work means demerits.”

“I cleaned it thoroughly.”

“Sure about that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“….”

Knowing Park Gil-yeong, I expected what came next.

“Fine. I’ll check it myself.”

He expertly field-stripped the rifle and inspected every corner with eagle eyes.

Finally—clack!
He reassembled it and said just one word:

“Well done.”

“Thank you, sir!”

See? Told you.