LRMP 10

 Chapter 10 …

Life Reset, Oh Military Police!

A brief silence settled between the two of them.

Then the company commander spoke—words that Oh Sangjin had never expected to hear.

“By the way… Sangjin.”

Captain Hong Seongjun hesitated for a moment before calling his name.

“Private Oh Sangjin.”

Oh Sangjin looked at him. Captain Hong Seongjun avoided his gaze slightly as he continued.

“I’m truly sorry, but I have one request.”

“Please speak, sir.”

“If possible… could we let this incident pass quietly?”

Oh Sangjin lifted his head.

Surprise and suspicion crossed his eyes.

Captain Hong Seongjun continued calmly.

“After you collapsed, the entire unit was turned upside down. Reports went up—not just to me, but to the battalion commander, the brigade commander, even the division commander. Honestly… if you hadn’t woken up, several people—including me—would have had to take off our uniforms.”

Oh Sangjin quietly nodded.

Although his time in the unit had been short, he had already experienced firsthand how cold and swift the military’s chain of command could be.

More than anything, there was no hypocrisy in Captain Hong Seongjun’s tone.

He was stating clear facts—and was prepared to take responsibility for them.

“I understand as well. I don’t want this incident to shake the entire unit. If the seniors who harassed me and Kangho are properly punished, then I’m willing to let this matter pass quietly.”

Captain Hong Seongjun’s eyes wavered slightly.

“Can you really do that?”

“Yes. But I have a condition.”

“Tell me.”

“Please transfer Kangho and me to another unit.”

“Another unit?”

“Yes. The front line is too cold. Kangho was really struggling physically. If possible, somewhere in Seoul—or near Seoul—would be best.”

Captain Hong Seongjun rubbed his chin and thought for a moment.

“…Alright. That much should be entirely possible. Is there a specific unit you want?”

“There isn’t a specific one. As long as Kangho can continue his military service comfortably, that’s enough. Even if I can’t go with him, please at least transfer Kangho. If you do that… I won’t tell anyone about today’s events, even after I’m discharged.”

“Alright. I’ll personally take responsibility and make sure it’s handled.”

Oh Sangjin added one last thing.

“And please make sure this kind of incident never happens again. Change the atmosphere of the unit.”

At those words, Captain Hong Seongjun closed his eyes briefly, then slowly opened them.

“That must not have been an easy decision. Thank you for coming forward like this.”

“Isn’t gratitude something you’re allowed to express only after surviving?”

A satisfied smile spread across Captain Hong Seongjun’s face.

And so, that night—inside the quiet four-person room of the Armed Forces Capital Hospital—an unseen deal was made, known to no one else.

A week passed.

All possible examinations at the Armed Forces Capital Hospital had already been completed.

Blood tests, gastrointestinal exams, neurological exams, electrocardiograms—even EEG tests. But every result came back normal.

Not a single abnormal finding.

“Are we sure he actually collapsed because he ate that strange thing?”

Even the medical staff tilted their heads in confusion.

“Hey, you’re something else.”

Major Lee Mincheol, the attending physician, let out a small chuckle.

“Are you even human? What kind of resistance is this—equipment-level?”

Oh Sangjin smiled awkwardly and nodded.

“I think it’s just because I rested well.”

“Come on. That explanation’s a waste.”

Major Lee Mincheol raised an eyebrow and shot him a sideways look.

“Wait—didn’t you say you lived in the mountains before coming to the army? Did you learn some kind of martial art there?”

“……”

After a brief silence, Oh Sangjin shook his head.

“It wasn’t the mountains… it was a temple.”

“Hahaha, a temple? Look at this guy. Then what—did you learn martial arts at the temple?”

“Yes.”

At that answer, Major Lee Mincheol let out a low laugh.

“In this day and age, someone actually learning martial arts? What is it—Taekkyeon? Kendo?”

“Not Taekkyeon. Just something like… a lifestyle martial art. For purifying and disciplining the body.”

Oh Sangjin spoke vaguely—but he had almost said Hobeopmu.

Hobeopmu was a highly confidential internal art passed down only among a select few senior monks within the temple.

It was a discipline that encompassed both martial prowess and the protection of the Dharma, and by tradition, it was passed down to only a single successor.

But Oh Sangjin kept his mouth shut.

This was not something he could speak of lightly—to anyone.

It was his master, Monk Cheonam’s will, and instinctively, Oh Sangjin knew that this power must not be revealed to the world.

Major Lee Mincheol, of course, had no way of knowing any of that.

He was simply grateful—and happy—that Oh Sangjin had recovered like a miracle.

“But listen.”

Major Lee Mincheol said quietly, glancing out the window.

“You’ll be returning to your unit soon. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

Oh Sangjin took a short breath and nodded.

“Yes. I’m fully recovered. I should go back.”

At his calm tone, Major Lee Mincheol let out a small laugh.

“Hey, you know…”

He lightly patted Oh Sangjin on the shoulder.

“You really are cut out for the military. You’re so composed—nothing like kids these days.”

Then, turning his head back toward the window, he continued.

“Look at the ward next door. It’s packed with guys faking illnesses. Anyone can tell they’re perfectly fine, but they insist they’re sick and refuse to leave.”

Oh Sangjin asked, slightly surprised.

“That’s really possible?”

Major Lee Mincheol shrugged with a bitter smile.

“Normally? No. But guys with connections at home don’t hesitate to use whatever means they have. One document, one diagnosis—and they squat there for a month, two months.”

He let out a deep sigh.

“Honestly, I hate it. Sometimes, because of people like that, I regret becoming a military doctor.”

Oh Sangjin nodded and replied quietly.

“I’ll remember it differently. Thanks to officers like you, I can return to the army like this.”

For a moment, Major Lee Mincheol’s gaze wavered.

He stared at Oh Sangjin for a long time, then broke into a grin.

“Yeah. Remember it that way, then. After all, you probably know better than anyone what a real soldier is.”

Late autumn sunlight streamed through the window.

Like that sunlight, a quiet warmth filled the room.

Major Lee Mincheol signed the final line on the chart, then stopped his hand as he checked the IV line.

“Oh Sangjin, you need to be careful.”

“Pardon?”

“You look fine now, but whatever you ate back then—it was completely unidentified. Even if nothing shows up now, side effects could surface later.”

Oh Sangjin nodded quietly.

“Yes, sir. To be honest, I still sometimes feel a burning heat inside my body.”

“That’s exactly it.”

Major Lee Mincheol stood up and walked toward the window.

“So if anything strange happens again, come straight to the hospital. Don’t try to endure it. Come immediately.”

“Yes, sir. But what if the unit tries to brush it off?”

“In that case…”

Major Lee Mincheol smiled and tapped his hospital badge.

“Say Major Lee Mincheol sent you. Use my name. No matter what.”

“But what if you’re not there at the time?”

Oh Sangjin asked with a hint of teasing.

“Hey, you punk.”

Major Lee Mincheol laughed heartily, shrugging.

“I’ll be discharged later than you. Don’t worry—feel free to use my name as much as you want throughout your service.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Major Lee Mincheol nodded seriously.

“Military doctors have mandatory service too, but I extended my contract. This place can be a headache sometimes—but when you manage to properly save even one patient like you, it makes the job feel worth it.”

At those words, Oh Sangjin felt a strange tightness in his chest.

So this is the kind of person who saved me.

A moment later, Major Lee Mincheol pulled out a notebook and added one last remark.

“And lastly—if you collapse during training or symptoms return, contact me immediately. No matter where you are, I’ll bring you back to the Armed Forces Capital Hospital myself. So don’t trust your body too much.”

“Understood. Thank you so much, Major.”

“Yeah.”

Major Lee Mincheol smiled and tapped Oh Sangjin’s shoulder.

“Thank you for surviving. I mean that.”

Late autumn sunlight filtered in through the window.

All treatment was complete, and finally, the day of discharge arrived.

In a quiet corner of the parking lot in front of the Armed Forces Capital Hospital, a military jeep pulled to a careful stop.

Moments later, the driver’s door opened, and Second Lieutenant Kim Mincheol stepped out, dressed neatly.

He strode into the hospital, and soon arrived at the familiar four-person room. Without hesitation, he swung the door open.

“Private Oh Sangjin!”

At the sound of his voice, Oh Sangjin—who had been sitting on the bed—quickly stood up.

“Private Oh Sangjin, ready for departure.”

Second Lieutenant Kim Mincheol gave him a once-over, then asked with a short smile.

“You good? How’s your body?”

“Yes. All treatment is finished, and thanks to everyone, I’ve recovered a lot.”

At that answer, Kim Mincheol let out a long breath, relief clearly visible on his face.

Only then did the tension seem to leave him.

“Good. That’s a relief. Let’s go—Captain’s been waiting ever since he heard you were being discharged.”

“Yes, sir.”

Oh Sangjin picked up his bag and followed Kim Mincheol out of the hospital.

They walked side by side to the parking lot and carefully got into the waiting military jeep.

Throughout the entire trip, Kim Mincheol treated Oh Sangjin with unusual care and respect—as if he were handling something precious.

It was a bit excessive for someone escorting an ordinary private.

But the reason was clear.

A few days earlier, when Captain Hong Seongjun had personally visited the hospital room to meet with Oh Sangjin—

Immediately after that meeting, Captain Hong Seongjun had harshly reprimanded the 1st Platoon Leader.

“What exactly was the 1st Platoon Leader doing until things escalated this far? If a soldier had to write about sexual harassment in a ‘letter from the heart,’ shouldn’t the platoon leader have noticed something was wrong first?”

The atmosphere had been icy.

Second Lieutenant Kim Mincheol had been left speechless, only able to lower his head.

And then—

Unexpectedly, Oh Sangjin quietly opened his mouth.