episode_0002

Now, Ivan, who had been waiting for the ending with a relaxed mind, wanting nothing more than to escape from this tiresome otherworld and indulge in a cold can of beer, finally realizes at this point that all his experiences were merely part of the “background setting.” Furthermore, the genre of this game is not a rigorous strategy simulation to fend off the Demon King’s fierce war, nor is it an authentic RPG where one forms a party to overthrow the tyranny of the Demon King. Astonishingly, it was a “school setting” that he came to realize. This marked Ivan’s 30th year of transmigration.

ep2. A Retired Soldier Longs for Rest

The St. Basilicia Orphanage was one of the most affluent orphanages in the kingdom. Typically, for an orphanage to be affluent, it needed to meet several conditions. It either had to have a favorable location within the administrative influence of the capital, or possess political symbolism as the “first orphanage for war orphans” during the kingdom’s reconstruction after a war. Alternatively, it could establish connections between the orphanage director and influential members of society and high-ranking nobles, among other various reasons. Surprisingly, if these conditions were met, an “affluent” orphanage, which seemed to contradict its purpose, could be established.

By the way, the St. Basilicia Orphanage was able to fulfill all these conditions.

“Hmm.”

Ivan furrowed his brow while stroking the goosebumps that had risen on his forearm. If there was one thing he had learned through his long military service, it was that one should never ignore a premonition that something bad was about to happen.

“Kids, sprinkle some salt.”

“Yes, sir!”

Heaving a deep sigh as he watched the children scamper out, he couldn’t help but wonder. It had been four years since the Demon King’s demise, yet the game showed no signs of ending. Wasn’t it problematic for the epilogue to be this drawn out? Were there additional conditions? Surely the ending condition wasn’t “the hero grows old and dies,” right? He’d much rather return home sooner.

By this time, Ivan found himself desperately digging into fading memories, diligently jotting down a list of “things to eat upon returning to Earth,” with the same fervor as a sergeant awaiting his discharge date.

Canned beer, makgeolli, honey butter chips, nachos dipped in cheese sauce, tuna mayo, kimchi stew.

Damn it, I need to underline “kimchi stew” at least three more times. It’s been 30 years since I’ve had kimchi. Can’t leave out kimchi jjim or stir-fried kimchi either.

And all kinds of alcohol except vodka and wine. Preferably wanted to drink alcohol from the Northeast Asian region.

Living among monsters who snack on pickled cucumbers or preserved mushrooms, even the sight of puffed rice cakes starts to feel nostalgic.

“Sigh….”

Ivan weakly took a step before suddenly halting.

In his office where no one should be, he sensed a presence. An adult’s, and a well-trained soldier’s at that.

His eyes, which were relaxed just moments ago, sharpened. Then he cautiously took a step, this time not trying to muffle his footsteps, but as naturally as possible.

Thud, thud.

As if emphasizing his vulnerable state, he walked in a straight line towards the wooden door with the director’s nameplate.

‘One person.’

His senses were already in the realm of an animal. After rolling in the extinction unit for several years, anyone could perform such acrobatics.

The presence beyond the wooden door abruptly paused. He estimated the position of his opponent, then slowly put his hand on his hip and slightly bent his waist.

Even if the door were to open and his opponent were to shoot, he could deflect the trajectory. It was a long-standing habit.

“Long time no see, sir!”

As he turned the doorknob, the unfamiliar visitor cheerfully shouted. It meant there was no intention to attack. Upon hearing the voice, Ivan identified the person and relaxed his shoulders.

As he fully opened the door, a neatly dressed military man waved at him.

“How have you been? Oh, I should have come to visit more often!”

“You should have come through the main gate.”

“Oh, when did we ever work like that?”

The soldier chuckled briefly and stepped back. His gaze briefly brushed against Ivan’s waist and sleeves.

“It’s urgent.”

“It is! First, let’s have a drink and talk things over. That kind of time should come first!”

He spoke while taking out a small piece of paper from his pocket. Carefully, with gloved hands, he placed the letter on the table. High-quality paper and a well-sealed wax seal. An embossed chrysanthemum flower on top. Confirming this, Ivan reflexively stepped back from the table. “Um, is that a criminal offense?” “Colonel Kirillovna, why would she…?” “She’s currently the palace minister. When you retired, you were just a major.” “So why is she looking for me? If my memory serves me right, when I retired, I distinctly…” “Yes. You were told to quietly leave without drawing attention. It’s quite impressive that you actually believed that and left. The princess hasn’t eaten in three days,” he chuckled, pushing the letter, which had been pushed to the end of the table, back towards Ivan. “Take a look. If it’s a letter from the princess, it’s worth calling at an heirloom auction.” “….” Carefully reaching out as if dismantling a magical device on the verge of exploding, he gingerly tore open the wax seal, being cautious not to crumple it. With a cheerful sensation of “pop,” the letter envelope gently opened. His hand stopped abruptly upon seeing the golden-mixed letter paper. “Why are you like this? She could have just asked about your well-being, couldn’t she?” “…Quite so.” Elizaveta Kirillovna Krasilov. Also known by the slightly more familiar nickname “Riza” during her active duty. This woman wouldn’t have sent an envoy just to ask “how are you?” Instead, she might as well have laced the letter with poison. Surely there isn’t any poison here… “Ah, just read it.” After hesitating once more, Ivan finally gathered the courage to open the letter. A neatly typed, elegant script appeared. [Ivan, how have you been?] He already didn’t want to read further. Ivan swallowed hard. [Occasionally, I’ve heard news of you. Seems like you’re doing well. At first, I thought it was fortunate, but it hasn’t been so since then.]

Regrettably, I’m not doing well right now. Even if you don’t know who she is, she will pay the price for making this woman ‘not do well.’

Do you remember when we were laboring in the garden? We hoped to have a tea party together, but you left without looking back.

During the time when we burned down the demon residential district and established the military government to exploit the ‘peaceful’ demons? Of course, I remember.

After that, I had a brief thought. Well, fine. Even if you’re not here, a garden we’ve worked so hard on couldn’t possibly fall into ruin. Winter has passed, so when the snow melts, the season for flowers to bloom will come. Then, perhaps someday, you might come to visit the garden you made.

Ivan murmured unknowingly.

Me? As a palace official? Why…?

But the seasons are turning, and winter is coming again, Banca. The lazy and satiated ones no longer pay attention to the garden. Among the overgrown weeds and wild animals, no more wildflowers grow. A colder and quieter winter than last year is coming. It seems like barely surviving ivy is covering dying shrubs.

Only now did he realize the purpose of this letter. Ivan reflexively sighed deeply before reading the last paragraph.

Banca, my most trusted woodsman. If there’s something I wish for, I’ll surely repay it threefold. If that’s not enough, I’ll compensate with our friendship. And if that’s still not enough, I’ll pay with our memories. The kingdom still needs your dedication. Just as it has been until now, and in the future. With affection, Kirillovna.

After carefully reading the short letter several times, he pressed his stiffened eyes and turned his head.

-Tap, tap, tap.

He absentmindedly tapped the table with his fingertips, lost in thought for a moment.

“About the response?”

“The situation first.”

It’s very difficult. The military government keeps whining for withdrawal, and Prince Alexander is eager to divide and sell the country into five parts. Our “great king” just sits there in silence as usual.

The man continued, “But guess what! Do you remember Saint Petersburg University? The international university established during the war.”

“Why does that matter?”

“I got a hold of this year’s list of new students and faculty. Want to take a look?” The man handed Ivan a notebook.

“A saintly woman has taken a teaching position in theology. And then there’s this… the students, see. Familiar names, right?”

-Daughter of the hero Maximilian, Isabelle.

-Son of the knight Jilbert, Oscar.

-Daughter of the wizard Velgrin, Elphira.

-Daughter of the warrior Ainar, Echidna.

-Apprentice of the rogue Enrique, Lucia.

And even the saintly Patricia as a newly appointed professor this year.

They look like characters straight out of a painting, members of a ‘hero party.’

“Of all times, our great king decides to abolish the age limit for admission to Saint Petersburg University. Just because they’re holding entrance exams now without considering age, this is what happens!”

Saint Petersburg University is one of the most prestigious institutions in the entire United Kingdoms, and this damn ‘prestigious school’ from another world doesn’t consider the age of its students. Whether very young or very old, it doesn’t matter. If you pass the excruciatingly difficult entrance exams, interviews, and conditions such as recommendations, it opens its doors to anyone fairly.

Here lies the problem.

After killing the demon king, the hero party each departed for their hometowns. Some became nobles, some went into hiding, but they all have one thing in common.

Every member of the party is a legendary hero in their hometown.

Each of their actions could potentially lead to international conflicts, especially if it involves sending their children abroad for study.

“Our prince is trying to sell the country. Oh, my goodness. How could such a thing happen in the heart of the capital? What will become of us?”

If someone dies or gets hurt during this, it will be the end of this country.

“What should I do?”

“I’ve secured a position for you as a staff member. Not as a professor or assistant, but as a groundskeeper. Well, universities have trees to tend to, don’t they?”

“….”

The man spoke while flipping through the list in his notebook.

“Keep an eye on these guys until they return to their own country without a scratch. Just for three years. It might be shorter if they retire early.”

Ivan finished his calculations at this point.

Colonel Kirillovna… which means our princess urgently needs an agent who is not currently stationed with the military.

Using an active-duty agent would leave traces and risk exposing the prince’s faction. On the other hand, using any retired agent could be risky, as we wouldn’t know who among them has ties to the prince’s faction.

However, ta-da, there was just the right person conveniently located near the capital.

There’s no need to doubt his loyalty, his capabilities have already been proven, and he has quietly secluded himself after retirement, making him easily accessible.

This miraculous figure was none other than Ivan.

Quietly waiting for an ending, having prepared to cross over to Earth to enjoy the delights of modern civilization, Ivan suddenly realized an astonishing fact at that moment.

The demon king had died, yet instead of a hero’s party celebrating “we lived happily ever after,” what emerged was chaos in international relations and a grim domestic political situation, against the backdrop of the sudden emergence of an “international university” where world dignitaries were rushing to enroll their children…

After 30 long years, a genre familiar to every citizen of South Korea came to mind…

“Damn.”

“…Pardon?”

Kim Sunwoo, who had been dormant for many years, suddenly woke up.

“Damn. This was an academy novel?”

“Senior…?”

The man looked at Ivan with cold sweat running down his face.

During his active duty, it was a rare sight. That figure, vehemently expelling his anger.

And, of course.

As someone who knew him during his active duty, my body stiffened at the steady flow of vitality.

Sweating coldly, just as I was about to ponder what that meant.

Ivan tightly closed his eyes and, while restraining and managing Kim Sunwoo’s boiling rage, he said, “Ivan Petrovich… I receive the orders of the Lord.”

“Now let’s go home.”

3 years.

After waiting for 30 years, is 3 years really that daunting?

If I wait just 3 more years, I should be able to see the ending.

This was the process of a gardener being appointed at the academy.