Chapter 03 …
Life Reset, Oh Military Police!
Oh Sangjin didn’t hesitate and took the first step forward. He approached a middle-aged woman who happened to be passing by and asked politely.
“Excuse me, which bus should I take to get to the training camp?”
The woman immediately pointed in a direction.
“Take Bus 201 from that stop over there. You’ll see it soon enough.”
“Yes, thank you.”
After bowing his head in thanks, Oh Sangjin headed toward the bus stop with Choi Kangho.
Thanks to that, the two of them boarded the bus without much trouble and arrived safely in front of the training camp.
They talked about grabbing a quick bite before going in, but time was already tight.
In the end, clutching their empty stomachs, the two stood in front of the training camp’s main gate.
“Alright, alright! Recruits! Gather over here now!”
A drill instructor in uniform shouted at the top of his lungs. His voice boomed like it was echoing through a megaphone.
Choi Kangho nudged Oh Sangjin in the side and whispered.
“Hey, let’s go.”
“Yeah, let’s go.”
The two took a deep breath and finally stepped forward.
And just like that, Oh Sangjin’s military life officially began.
Pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa—!
The training camp’s reveille blasted through the speakers, tearing at everyone’s eardrums.
In an instant, recruits all around the barracks stirred under their blankets, groaning as they tossed and turned.
“Ugh… it’s already morning?”
“Can’t we sleep just a little longer?”
But Oh Sangjin had already opened his eyes and sat up.
No matter who looked, Oh Sangjin was always the first to wake up.
The reason was simple.
From his days living at the temple, waking up for early-morning prayers had become second nature to him.
Starting the day by breathing in the pre-dawn air before the sun rose was nothing new to Oh Sangjin.
“Hoo— this feels good.”
After steadying his breath, Oh Sangjin got up and shook Choi Kangho, who was lying beside him.
“Hey, Kangho. Wake up!”
Choi Kangho mumbled as he pulled the blanket over his head.
“Mmm… just a little more…”
“Hey! Snap out of it. If you don’t get up now, you’ll get punished.”
At Oh Sangjin’s urgent voice, Choi Kangho finally pushed himself upright, his face still half-asleep.
Even after entering the training camp, their connection continued. Recruit No. 64 was Oh Sangjin, and Recruit No. 65 was Choi Kangho.
That’s how Choi Kangho ended up right beside him in the same barracks.
Rubbing his eyes, Choi Kangho complained.
“Ha… seriously, why does morning come so fast in the army?”
Oh Sangjin snapped back while pulling out his uniform.
“It’s the army because it’s fast. Quit whining and get changed!”
From that moment on, the barracks erupted into chaos, like a kicked beehive.
Recruits hurriedly slipped into their combat boots, frantically buttoned their uniforms, and began folding their blankets with bleary eyes.
“Hey! Square those blankets properly! If the corners are crooked, it’s punishment again!”
“O-Okay, okay!”
Sharp voices and grumbling complaints mixed everywhere.
Oh Sangjin folded his blanket neatly with practiced movements.
The discipline and tidiness he’d learned at the temple were ingrained in his body, leaving no room for hesitation.
Just then, one recruit glanced out the window and muttered.
“Damn… isn’t it going to rain today? If it rains, maybe roll call will be indoors…”
Another recruit snorted beside him.
“Hey, what are you dreaming about? No chance. It’s definitely assembly at the parade ground.”
In an instant, everyone’s shoulders slumped at once.
Even though they had only just begun their training, they were already learning that miracles didn’t exist in the army.
And sure enough, their expectations were shattered.
Soon, the instructor’s thunderous shout blared through the speakers.
[All recruits, morning roll call will be held at the parade ground. You have three minutes to assemble!]
The moment he heard that, Oh Sangjin gestured to Choi Kangho beside him.
“Let’s go!”
“Mm.”
The two hastily adjusted their boots and burst out of the barracks.
As soon as the door opened, the icy dawn air slapped them across the face.
“Ah… this is brutal.”
Choi Kangho muttered, his teeth chattering.
“Sangjin, I get it now. You’re just built for the army.”
Oh Sangjin laughed as he panted.
“Haha, it’s not that—I’m just used to it. Hurry up, we’ll be late.”
They quickened their pace and ran toward the parade ground.
Under the gray dawn sky, where the stars hadn’t yet faded, hundreds of recruits gathered in long rows, creating a striking sight.
The moment they entered the parade ground, what hit their ears before the cold air were the assistants’ sharp shouts.
“Stand straight! Line up! What are you doing? Move faster!”
At those blade-sharp voices, the recruits flinched and scrambled about.
Half-asleep, they bumped into one another as they struggled to form lines.
Oh Sangjin grabbed Choi Kangho’s arm, who was floundering.
“Hey, over here! Line up!”
“Okay, okay!”
Soon after, the company commander climbed onto the platform.
With a sharply pressed uniform and a firm jawline, he clasped his hands behind his back and looked down at the recruits.
“Everyone! Did you sleep well?”
“Yes…”
A weak response trickled out from somewhere.
The company commander’s expression hardened instantly.
“What’s this? Listen to that voice! Is that all you’ve got? Still not awake, are you? I like recruits with loud voices. I’ll ask again. Did you sleep well?!”
“Yes!”
This time, the response was noticeably louder.
Still, it wasn’t enough for the company commander.
“I still can’t hear you. Everyone, turn around!”
Several hundred recruits turned around at once.
“Good! Face front! Five seconds—shout at full volume!”
In an instant, the recruits unleashed a collective roar.
“Waaaaaaaah—!”
But the sound broke apart in places, uneven and scattered.
Their voices failed to unite, dispersing into the dawn air.
That was when Oh Sangjin shouted louder than anyone else.
The powerful kiai he’d honed during his temple life burst forth, and his shout rang out like thunder.
“WAAAAAAA!”
The force of it energized the recruits around him, who raised their voices as well.
Soon, the parade ground resounded like a massive chorus of hundreds of voices.
Only then did the company commander curl his lips into a satisfied smile and nod.
“That’s it! You can do it when you try. You always need to be scolded before you wake up.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Alright, then. Let’s begin morning roll call.”
The company commander stepped down from the platform, and an instructor climbed up instead.
“Alright! Now, with good spirits, remove your upper uniforms. Shirts off!”
“Shirts off!”
The recruits removed their tops and placed them to their right. At that moment, a cold wind swept over their bodies.
“Brrr…”
It was late autumn, and the chill of the dawn wind seeped into their bones—but no one dared complain.
“Calisthenics, begin!”
Immediately, the exercise commands blared through the speakers.
Tap, tap, tap!
The synchronized stomping of boots echoed across the parade ground.
Morning roll call came to an end.
“Alright, morning roll call is over! Everyone move to the cafeteria!”
At the assistant’s shout, the recruits moved in orderly lines.
They formed a long queue in front of the cafeteria.
Amid the seemingly endless line, Oh Sangjin stood holding his tray.
“Ah… I’m hungry.”
The words slipped out without him realizing.
At this hour, hunger always hit him hard.
He remembered how, back at the temple, after morning prayers, his stomach would feel painfully empty, and he would eagerly wait for meals.
Finally, it was Oh Sangjin’s turn.
He held out his tray to the serving soldier and shouted energetically.
“Please give me a lot!”
“I can’t give you too much. Look at all the recruits waiting behind you. You’re not the only one with a mouth.”
The serving soldier replied curtly, but his ladle moved generously.
He even slipped on side dishes that other recruits avoided.
Oh Sangjin accepted it gratefully, smiling to himself.
Choi Kangho, standing behind him, was the opposite.
Since he loved sleep more than food, he was always indifferent to breakfast.
“Just a moderate amount, please. Just a little.”
At that, the serving soldier frowned and grumbled.
“What are you talking about? Eat what you’re given!”
Choi Kangho took his tray awkwardly and sat down, his face full of dissatisfaction.
“Damn… there’s nothing to eat. What am I supposed to eat here?”
Oh Sangjin paused mid-scoop and looked at him.
“Then give your rice to me. You’ll get scolded if you leave leftovers anyway. Just put it on my tray.”
Choi Kangho scooped some rice over, looking apologetic.
“Sorry, Sangjin.”
“What for? Thanks.”
Choi Kangho scratched his head sheepishly and smiled, while Oh Sangjin took the tray without a fuss.
This amount of food was nothing to Oh Sangjin.
There had been days, during the IMF crisis, when the temple struggled so badly that he survived by scraping together whatever side dishes were left.
Compared to those days, just being able to eat three meals a day like this was more than enough to make him happy.
“Hey, does this actually taste good to you?”
Choi Kangho asked, eyes wide.
“You think I eat it because it tastes good? I eat because I’m hungry.”
“I don’t like it. I’d rather eat my mom’s cooking.”
Oh Sangjin scooped up a big bite of rice and smiled softly.
“Still, hurry up and eat. You’ll get yelled at again if you leave food.”
Grumbling, Choi Kangho eventually forced the food into his mouth.
Meanwhile, Oh Sangjin cleaned his tray spotless.
Even though this was a training camp, he was simply grateful to be able to eat everything he was given.
On the way back to the barracks after the meal, Choi Kangho clicked his tongue.
“Man, you’re seriously built for the army. Loudest voice in the morning, and you eat military food better than anyone.”
Oh Sangjin shrugged but shook his head inwardly.
His military life hadn’t been smooth from the very start.
He recalled the moment he received his first drill training.
Military drill demanded absolute precision.
Arms and legs had to snap into place, movements had to be perfectly synchronized.
But Oh Sangjin’s body was still steeped in the habits of the temple’s martial forms.
An unfamiliar rhythm slipped into his steps, and the way he extended his arms flowed with an odd flexibility.
The assistant instructor watching him didn’t miss it.
“Hey, what are you doing right now? Are you messing around?”
Oh Sangjin froze in panic, and every time that happened, Choi Kangho would quickly jump in to make excuses for him.
