Chapter 09 …
Life Reset! Oh, Military Police!
Oh Sangjin sat upright on the hospital bed and quietly closed his eyes.
In truth, until before he was admitted to this hospital, Oh Sangjin had been cautious even about uttering the words danjeon circulation.
The world had already become far too turbid, Monk Cheonam had said.
“In this world, cultivating more than ten years’ worth of internal energy is impossible. Listen carefully, Sangjin. This world is too impure to absorb truly pure qi.”
Those words also carried an unspoken meaning: Don’t expect much from an ordinary person like you.
But now, something felt different.
There’s something inside my body. There definitely is.
Ever since Oh Sangjin swallowed that black object covered in mold, somewhere deep within him felt strangely hot.
Especially the danjeon area—normally cold and empty—was now filled with a gentle, lingering warmth.
Oh Sangjin didn’t force himself into harsh training or try to push his danjeon through sheer effort.
He simply steadied his mind and attempted qi circulation.
At that moment, a hot current burst forth from the danjeon and spread throughout his body along the meridians.
Ugh!
His shoulders, spine, arms, fingertips, thighs, and all the way down to his toes—his blood vessels opened as some unknown energy expanded into even the tiniest capillaries.
“…!”
Oh Sangjin snapped his eyes open.
His body trembled.
It felt as if he had mastered lightness skill—his body felt light and refreshingly cool.
This wasn’t just the result of breathing.
What did I eat?
It had clearly been some kind of mold-covered, unidentified black sphere.
Could it be… an inner core (naedan)?
A passage from an old martial arts text flashed through his mind.
An inner core—the crystallization of life formed by martial masters after a lifetime of cultivation.
“That’s impossible. There’s no way I could have…”
Before he realized it, Oh Sangjin had risen to his feet.
He took a deep breath and focused once more on steady breathing.
The danjeon burned fiercely, like a brazier soaked in oil.
That heat gradually began pushing out the turbid energy.
Beads of sweat formed on his arms, and faint black wisps began rising from the back of his neck and spine.
Turbid qi.
Impurities and contaminated energy accumulated in his body were being expelled through his pores.
“….”
No one was there to witness it, but Oh Sangjin himself clearly felt the change.
Something is changing inside my body.
And this change wasn’t just a simple recovery of stamina—it was a completely different, alien kind of awakening.
The world of martial arts he had known until now was quietly beginning to exceed its limits.
It was the second day since Oh Sangjin had regained consciousness.
Around lunchtime, the hospital room door quietly opened.
“Oh Sangjin, Private.”
At the familiar voice, Oh Sangjin slowly lifted his head.
Standing at the doorway were two officers in full uniform.
One was Company Commander Captain Hong Seongjun, and beside him stood First Platoon Leader Second Lieutenant Kim Mincheol, wearing a cautious expression.
“Company Commander.”
Oh Sangjin reflexively tried to get up, but Captain Hong Seongjun raised a hand to stop him.
“Stay seated. Don’t overdo it yet.”
At those words, Oh Sangjin awkwardly lowered his head.
“I heard you woke up. I’m really glad.”
Captain Hong Seongjun’s tone was different from usual.
It was calm, sincere, and heavy with genuine emotion.
“I’m sorry for causing concern.”
As Oh Sangjin quietly apologized, Captain Hong Seongjun hesitated briefly, then gave a faint, composed smile.
“No. Thank you for staying alive.”
Captain Hong Seongjun stepped closer and gently patted Oh Sangjin’s shoulder.
“To be honest, I was prepared for the worst.”
“…Pardon?”
“If you hadn’t woken up, I was even prepared to turn in my uniform.”
At those words, the air in the hospital room fell into an uneasy silence.
Captain Hong Seongjun stared out the window before continuing.
“A newly assigned soldier—someone who’d only just arrived—being sent all the way to the Armed Forces Capital Hospital. And because he collapsed after eating something strange… there’s no way the higher-ups would ignore that.”
Oh Sangjin silently studied Captain Hong Seongjun’s face.
The weariness and worry of the past few days were deeply etched around the eyes of the man who usually looked so solid.
Captain Hong Seongjun sat quietly in the chair beside the bed.
His gaze was fixed somewhere outside the window, but his thoughts were firmly anchored on Oh Sangjin lying there.
Was it really just food poisoning from eating something strange?
He wanted to believe that.
Honestly, that would have been the cleanest explanation.
But if this incident escalated, his own military career would inevitably take a serious hit.
Sexual assault within the unit—especially between soldiers—was not something that could end with a simple disciplinary action.
And Captain Hong Seongjun already knew.
A few days earlier, he had been informed through Staff Sergeant Kim Youngcheol, the administrative NCO, that Oh Sangjin had written about sexual assault in a letter to the heart.
The moment he heard that, he knew.
This isn’t something that can be swept under the rug.
Captain Hong Seongjun slowly turned his head and addressed Second Lieutenant Kim Mincheol, who was standing to the side.
“Platoon Leader.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Step outside for a moment.”
“…Sir?”
“Did you not hear me?”
“N-no, sir. Understood.”
Second Lieutenant Kim Mincheol hesitated before leaving the room.
Just before crossing the threshold, he glanced at Oh Sangjin.
Through that small gesture—his eyes, his posture—he tried desperately to convey something he couldn’t put into words.
But it was a subtle signal only a soldier seasoned in military life could read.
Oh Sangjin, a newly assigned recruit, failed to notice its meaning entirely.
Soon, only the two of them remained in the room.
Captain Hong Seongjun stood silently for a moment, then took a deep breath and slowly sat down beside the bed.
“Oh Sangjin, Private.”
“Yes, sir. Private Oh Sangjin.”
“It’s just the two of us now. Tell me everything that happened. Only then can I help you.”
Those words weren’t just an order.
There was sincerity in Captain Hong Seongjun’s eyes.
Still, Oh Sangjin couldn’t bring himself to speak easily.
I wrote a letter to the heart, but all I got back was abuse. Can I really trust the company commander now?
Countless thoughts tangled and churned in his mind.
As if sensing his hesitation and distrust, Captain Hong Seongjun spoke first.
“By the way.”
His voice was low and careful.
“Private Choi Kangho is doing well.”
Oh Sangjin’s eyes reacted instantly.
His pupils trembled.
“The day after you collapsed and were taken to the hospital, Kangho collapsed as well. Thankfully, he received emergency treatment and is now recovering at the infirmary.”
Oh Sangjin clenched his lips tightly, as if swallowing something down.
Captain Hong Seongjun didn’t miss the moment.
“From what I hear, you and Kangho were quite close.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Could this incident also be…?”
Captain Hong Seongjun chose his words carefully before asking again.
“Is it related to Private Choi Kangho?”
At that moment, Oh Sangjin’s breathing faltered.
Seeing suppressed emotions rising in his eyes, Captain Hong Seongjun quietly nodded.
“I see… that’s enough.”
He let out a heavy sigh and leaned back in his chair.
“This happened because I failed to stop it. I’m truly sorry.”
A heavy silence followed.
“But right now, you need to trust me.”
Captain Hong Seongjun’s voice was desperate yet firm.
“In this situation, I’m the only one who can protect you. And I’m the one who can handle what you went through more properly than anyone else.”
At those words, Oh Sangjin finally made up his mind.
Slowly—very slowly—he nodded.
Then, carefully, he began to speak the truth he had kept buried.
“Actually… Kangho was sexually assaulted by a senior.”
Captain Hong Seongjun’s eyes shook violently. He swallowed a deep breath in silence.
“The letter to the heart…”
When he spoke again, his voice was filled with bitter regret.
“I saw it. I should’ve checked it myself. Leaving it to the administrative NCO without confirming anything was a mistake. It seems Staff Sergeant Kim Youngcheol tried to cover it up at his own level.”
Deep self-reproach filled Captain Hong Seongjun’s eyes.
Then came a heartfelt apology.
“I’m sorry, Private Oh Sangjin. Truly. I apologize as your company commander. If you hadn’t trusted me now, you would’ve ended up completely alone.”
His gaze was no longer that of a commander.
It was that of a man in uniform bowing his head before another.
Oh Sangjin had no desire to blame Captain Hong Seongjun.
And now he understood.
He understood the resolve with which the company commander was standing there at this very moment.
Oh Sangjin quietly nodded and spoke again.
“It was the night after that.”
“I’m listening.”
“After evening roll call, the seniors called me separately to the storage room. And because I wrote the letter to the heart… they beat me.”
Captain Hong Seongjun straightened his posture.
This was no longer just a conversation—it was an official report.
He immediately pulled out a notebook and pen.
“How many people were involved?”
“The ringleader was Corporal Lee Seunghyun. Corporal Jung Junyoung, Private Min Jaewon, and Private Kang Jihoon participated as well.”
Captain Hong Seongjun’s fingertips went cold.
With each name he wrote down, his expression hardened like stone.
“Tell me everything they did, in detail. I’ll record it all.”
At that, Oh Sangjin took a breath and began pulling out the horrific memories of that night, one by one.
“Corporal Lee Seunghyun beat me from the front. Private Kang Jihoon and Private Min Jaewon held my arms from behind. And Corporal Jung Junyoung brought something strange.”
“Something strange?”
“A black, round object about the size of a baby’s fist. It was covered in mold and reeked of rot… He threw it in front of me and told me to eat it.”
“…You don’t mean you actually ate it?”
Captain Hong Seongjun’s eyes shook violently. His worst suspicion had been correct.
“Yes.”
“You idiot! How could you eat something like that!”
“I had no choice.”
Oh Sangjin continued, his voice choking.
“I was angry about being beaten… but I was more afraid that Kangho would suffer because of me.”
At those words, Captain Hong Seongjun’s eyes wavered.
He nodded silently.
The situation had grown far beyond control, but Oh Sangjin’s pure intention was undeniable.
It was loyalty beyond imagination—and the sense of responsibility of a true soldier.
“…I see.”
Captain Hong Seongjun nodded heavily.
“We can’t let this drag on any longer. I’ll take full responsibility and make sure these bastards are properly punished.”
“Thank you.”
