Chapter 02 …
Life Reset, Oh Military Police!
The chill of dawn had settled heavily over the temple courtyard.
The sun hadn’t even risen yet, but a rooster crowed noisily.
“Cock-a-doodle-doo—!”
A short while after the rooster cried, the door creaked open carefully, and a man stepped outside.
It was Oh Sangjin, who had been staying at this temple.
The signs of a restless night were clear on his face. His bloodshot eyes and slightly heavy eyelids spoke for the exhaustion he’d endured through the night.
“Wow… I didn’t get a wink of sleep.”
Muttering to himself, Oh Sangjin rolled his stiff shoulders.
In fact, today was the day Oh Sangjin was enlisting in the military.
When he first held the draft notice in his hands, he’d been completely dazed.
Am I really going?
Unable to believe it, Oh Sangjin had clutched the calendar, tracing the dates with his finger, hoping the day would be pushed back even by just one more day.
But as time passed and the enlistment date drew right up to him, his heart grew calmer instead.
“Yeah. If you’re a man in South Korea, you have to go to the military. Better to just get it over with.”
He nodded, reassuring himself.
Then, before leaving, he stopped in front of the room where Monk Cheonam was staying.
Putting his palms together, he bowed deeply.
“Master, I’ll be off now.”
At that moment—
Creeeak!
The door slid open, and Monk Cheonam stepped out with his hands clasped behind his back.
“Sangjin, where are you going so early in the morning?”
Then, seeing Sangjin’s outfit, his eyes widened.
With a cap pulled down low and a bag slung over his shoulder, he clearly looked like someone heading somewhere far away.
On the contrary, Oh Sangjin looked momentarily dumbfounded by the question before answering.
“Master, did you forget? Today’s my enlistment day.”
“Enlistment? Today?”
Monk Cheonam stood there blankly for a moment, then nodded as if mentally counting the dates.
“Oh, right. Today.”
Oh Sangjin let out a hollow laugh.
“Master, how could you forget the day I’m enlisting?”
“You rascal. Do you think I’ve got the headspace to keep track of things like that these days? The IMF crisis hit, and just going around on alms rounds is hard enough.”
It was a rough joke, but while Oh Sangjin chuckled softly, a bitter feeling settled somewhere in his chest.
“Still… it’s a little disappointing.”
Monk Cheonam scratched the back of his neck apologetically and avoided his gaze.
“Sangjin. Still, seeing you grow up this much and even go to the army makes my heart feel steady. Go and come back safely.”
“Yes, Master.”
Oh Sangjin pressed his palms together again and bowed even deeper.
After the IMF crisis, the world had collapsed overnight.
Oh Sangjin’s family—and their lives—had been scattered to the winds.
In a situation like that, he couldn’t blame Monk Cheonam for forgetting an enlistment date.
“Anyway, Master. I’ll go and come back safely.”
Just as Oh Sangjin lowered his hands and turned to leave, Monk Cheonam called out to him with his arms folded.
“Sangjin, wait a moment.”
The monk went back into his room and soon returned holding a small envelope.
“What’s this?”
“Take it. Use it for travel expenses, and buy yourself something to eat on the way.”
Inside the envelope were ten neatly stacked ten-thousand-won bills.
Oh Sangjin waved his hands in surprise.
“Oh no, it’s really okay. I’m fine.”
“You rascal, just take it. Thanks to you holding out back then at your house, this dharma protector is still managing to hold on. So don’t feel sorry—just accept it.”
Faced with Monk Cheonam’s sincere words, Oh Sangjin could no longer refuse and nodded.
“Yes, Master. I understand.”
“Just make sure you come back healthy. Don’t get into trouble, got it?”
“Yes. I’ll definitely come back safely.”
Oh Sangjin bowed once more and quietly left the temple.
Watching him go, Monk Cheonam clasped his hands behind his back and let out a long sigh.
“Good grief… like a little kid left by the water’s edge. I’m worried, so worried.”
Contrary to Monk Cheonam’s concern, as Oh Sangjin walked down the mountain path, his steps were heavy—but a strange warmth was spreading in his heart.
Perhaps because it was still early, Seoul Station’s waiting hall felt unhurried, with fewer people moving about.
With his bag over his shoulder, Oh Sangjin bought a train ticket at the counter and headed down the stairs toward the platform.
The train he was taking was the Pigeon Train bound for Nonsan.
The weathered cars slid smoothly into the platform.
As the doors opened with a clatter, Oh Sangjin took a deep breath and boarded right away.
Taking a window seat, he leaned his shoulder back and rested his head.
Outside the window, the passing scenery was still steeped in the light of dawn.
Fog-covered rice fields, dew-laden plastic greenhouses, and shuttered shops sleeping in silence—each scene felt unfamiliar and strangely distant.
“Because of the IMF, my family fell apart, and even the temple’s barely standing… Who would’ve thought the world could change this much?”
Murmuring bitterly, Oh Sangjin closed his eyes for a moment.
Then he opened them again and forced a smile.
“Well, whatever. As long as I go and come back safely. As long as I stay healthy.”
His reflection in the window looked a little more mature than before.
Without realizing it, Oh Sangjin stared at his own face for a while, then turned his gaze back outside.
Clatter, clatter—the train ran along the long tracks in a steady rhythm.
In truth, Oh Sangjin had lived his entire life in Seoul.
School, part-time jobs, memories with his family—everything had been within the city.
The thought of shaving his head and heading to an unfamiliar place like the Nonsan training center made his heart feel unsettled.
This feels really strange.
The scenery outside—endless rice fields and quiet rural villages—barely registered in his eyes.
Inside Oh Sangjin’s chest, anticipation and fear swelled and sank repeatedly.
After some time passed, the train stopped at the next station and the doors opened, letting several people rush into the car.
One of them sat down in the seat next to Oh Sangjin.
Oh Sangjin casually turned his head and glanced over.
“Huh?”
At first, he thought it was a woman.
A small face, long narrow eyes, and skin so pale it almost looked translucent.
Wow… really pretty.
That was his first thought—but looking again, the shoulder line and the way they sat felt oddly masculine.
Is it a guy or a girl?
It was a confusing impression.
Still, there was something about them that felt similar to him—like they were in the same situation.
After hesitating for a moment, unable to suppress his curiosity, Oh Sangjin spoke carefully.
“Um… excuse me. Are you going to Nonsan, by any chance?”
The person beside him startled and turned their head.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. I am. Are you going to Nonsan too?”
“Yes, I am. Then we’re probably enlisting together.”
Oh Sangjin chuckled softly. Monk Cheonam’s words about fate came to mind.
When you enlist, the people who enter the same training center are called training buddies. And sometimes, those connections last a lifetime.
“How old are you?”
“I’m twenty.”
“Huh? Me too!”
“Really? What year were you born?”
“1978. Ah—so that makes me twenty this year, right?”
They looked at each other and burst out laughing at the same time. The tension that had been gripping them eased a little.
“My name’s Oh Sangjin.”
“I’m Choi Kangho.”
“Oh, Kangho. That’s a cool name!”
At that, Choi Kangho scratched his head awkwardly and gave a shy smile.
A brief silence followed, then Oh Sangjin spoke first.
“Hey, since it turned out like this, wanna be friends on the way to the Nonsan training center?”
“Sure.”
“Alright, friends it is!”
Their laughter blended with the shaking of the train.
The once-quiet car felt noticeably brighter.
The train slowly left Seoul behind, heading for Nonsan.
Back then, even on the faster Saemaeul trains, it took three hours to get from Seoul to Nonsan, and the Pigeon Train took much longer since it stopped at every station.
But for Oh Sangjin and Choi Kangho, the time wasn’t boring.
Though they came from completely different places and backgrounds, sharing the same task of military enlistment brought them close quickly.
“Hey, do you think we might get to live together at the training center? It’d be awesome if we ended up in the same barracks.”
Choi Kangho asked with hopeful excitement.
Oh Sangjin tilted his head slightly, then answered calmly.
“Not sure. From what I know, even within the training center, there are multiple barracks. Even if we enlist at the same place, we could be put in the next barracks over—or totally separated. And after training, we get assigned to our units. Then everyone gets scattered across the country. Gangwon, Jeolla, Gyeongsang—anywhere.”
“Wait, what’s a unit assignment?”
Choi Kangho asked, eyes wide.
Oh Sangjin burst out laughing.
“Hey, do you seriously know nothing about the military?”
“I don’t! I really don’t know anything!”
To be honest, Oh Sangjin didn’t know that much either—but he had done a bit of research.
Putting on a slightly serious expression, he explained what he knew.
“At the training center, you do basic training for about six weeks. Shooting, running drills, formation training—that kind of stuff. But that’s just the introduction. After that, you get assigned to a unit. That’s where you actually do your military service. That’s when the real army life starts.”
“Ah… so if that’s the case, the chances of us ending up in the same unit are basically zero?”
“Well, yeah. But hey, we might get lucky and be assigned to the same place.”
“Oh, that’d be great. Really.”
They continued chatting as they endured the long train ride.
What would’ve been a stifling and tedious journey alone passed much more quickly thanks to their conversation.
At last, with a long whistle, the train arrived at Nonsan Station.
The moment the doors opened and Oh Sangjin stepped onto the platform, he immediately felt that the air was different.
Instead of Seoul’s heavy exhaust fumes, the rich scent of soil and grass filled his nose.
Sparrows chirped somewhere, and a breeze blew in from the distant fields, all of it unfamiliar.
In the plaza in front of the station, a bustling scene was already unfolding.
Taxi drivers raised their voices, calling out to passengers.
“Nonsan Training Center! Anyone going to the training center!”
“We’ll take you right now! Leaving immediately!”
There was desperation in their voices, but the fares were anything but cheap. In the IMF era, even a few thousand won felt precious—taxi rides were a luxury.
Oh Sangjin looked around briefly, then shook his head.
“Kangho, taxis are expensive. Let’s just take the bus. There should be one going to the training center.”
“Okay.”
