Ch.162Episode 9 – Old Fashioned

# The Night is Quiet

The cold wave of December. A midwinter night. The air blowing in from the East Sea is particularly cold. I exhale a white breath, close the window, and return to my seat.

“Hey, hey, did you check the barracks temperature?”

“Yes. I just checked the barracks temperature.”

The sound of keyboard typing continues.

“Any patients?”

“None.”

“Really? I saw on my way in. The bathroom was quite dirty.”

“…”

“Have you checked…”

Knock. Knock.

The neat knocking sound interrupts the conversation. After pausing and saying “come in,” the door opens after a slight delay.

I stand up when I see who enters.

“Supply Officer.”

It’s the sergeant.

“What brings you to the duty room? I thought you went home earlier. Has something happened?”

“No, nothing like that. I received a personal call and came back.”

“A personal call?”

“Yes.”

The Supply Officer visited the duty room looking the same as usual.

However, given the late hour and the fact that he had someone with him, something seemed off. Plus, the Supply Officer’s expression was somewhat dark.

“By the way, Lieutenant. There’s someone here to see you.”

“Me? Who could…”

That’s when it happened.

The person standing behind the Supply Officer suddenly barged into the duty room.

“Hey, long time no see!”

The uninvited visitor who invaded the duty room raised his voice unexpectedly. The middle-aged man in a suit rather than a military uniform looked strange to anyone, but I couldn’t say anything to him.

I was stunned as I recognized the suit-wearing man. He strode over and embraced me tightly.

“Hey, man. How long has it been? You’ve grown up a lot!”

“Uh, uhh…?”

“You smell like the sea. Look at that, you guys still wear frog suits? The frontline units got digital ones. Haha.”

While the duty soldier was still trying to process the sudden change in situation with wide eyes, the man hugging me turned his head.

“Wait a minute… Myungwoo, can I use the duty room for a bit? He’s my nephew I haven’t seen in ages, and I’d like to catch up.”

“Yes, senior. I’ll clear out for you.”

“Thanks. Sorry for barging in so late. Let’s meet for a meal sometime.”

“Yes.”

The Supply Officer bowed slightly and left with the duty soldier. The duty soldier, suddenly evicted, gave me a questioning look, but I had no explanation to offer.

Left alone in the duty room, I stood there dumbfounded.

Meanwhile, the suit-wearing man chuckled and claimed one of the chairs in the duty room.

“Sit down! Why are you standing there like that? Your legs will get tired.”

At those words, I snapped out of my daze and asked him.

The late-night visitor wasn’t a stranger to me.

Rather, he was someone I knew well.

He was my father’s friend. A military friend.

“Um… Senior? What brings you here?”

“Hey, why so formal when we’re meeting after so long? Just speak comfortably, like the old days. Call me uncle, like you used to.”

My uncle, whom I hadn’t seen in a long time, seemed quite pleased and kept smiling. Still not fully grasping the situation, I sat across from him.

I scratched the back of my head awkwardly and asked my uncle.

“But uncle, how did you know I was here? I don’t think I mentioned it since we met at my commissioning… And you’ve been hard to reach.”

“Well, I had business at the command headquarters nearby. Thought I’d drop by since I was thinking of you.”

“Command headquarters? Weren’t you retired? I thought you had taken a civilian job somewhere.”

“Retired? No way. I’m still in active service.”

“Oh, I see… Which unit are you with?”

“Just, you know, serving in the capital region.”

Slurp. The warm coffee seems to ease my tension a bit.

Having apparently finished his coffee, my uncle puts down the paper cup and takes something out of his inside pocket. It’s a cigarette case.

“Do you smoke?”

“No, I don’t smoke.”

“Why? Bad for your health?”

“Well, not exactly that… I just don’t feel like it.”

“Good! You don’t have to worry about quitting. Haha.”

My uncle chuckles as he lights his lighter. The silver lighter flares up, giving off a strong smell of fuel.

After taking a few puffs, he puts down the lighter and exhales smoke.

“Hey. Can I ask you something?”

“Yes, go ahead.”

“Are you planning to serve long-term?”

“Long-term?”

It was a sudden question.

“Yes. I’m asking if you’re thinking of making a proper career in the military.”

“Well, if there are no particular issues, I plan to continue. It’s practically confirmed that I’ll be serving long-term.”

“Is that so? Then let me make one request.”

My uncle grins.

“Let’s work on something together.”

“Work…?”

“I know a unit that has an opening, and they’re looking for someone like you. It’s in intelligence.”

“Intelligence? I’m not in the intelligence branch, so that might be difficult.”

“It’s fine, man. I’m not saying you’ll start field work right away. You’ll receive training at the school, do some internship, and then take on actual duties. You could even go overseas. If you just say yes.”

“What kind of unit is it? If it’s intelligence, is it similar to the battalion intelligence section?”

“More or less.”

Intelligence, huh? I tilt my head and make a contemplative sound.

“What kind of unit allows overseas service? If it’s intelligence… Could it be the Defense Security Command?”

“It’s not DSC.”

“Then where?”

My uncle smiles slyly, takes out his wallet, and places a business card on the desk.

Ministry of Defense. Foreign Intelligence. Lieutenant Colonel.

A pentagon.

And,

A small torch.

“Have you heard of the Defense Intelligence Command?”

# Episode 9 – Old Fashioned

It’s been about a week since I came to this resort with good water and air. I’ve splashed around in the sea, enjoyed fine dining with chefs called in on government money, gone shopping quietly with Mr. “Be” Mo and Mr. “P” Mo, drank all night, slept all day, and so on.

I’ve done everything one could possibly do on vacation.

But the problem is,

“This is strange…”

I’m bored.

After grinding like a dog for over half a year, suddenly becoming time-rich like Bill Gates and playing around for a week feels oddly unsettling. I feel adrift. It’s like I’m having trouble adapting to reality.

“I just feel anxious…”

When I kindly explained my feelings, Veronica looked at me with disbelief and started looking down on me.

“What are you up to? Are you setting me up for something again?”

“How am I setting you up…”

I put on my stylish sunglasses and lay back in my chair, gazing at the ocean. The obviously expensive-looking sunglasses were items I had acquired at a department store a few days ago.

With Veronica’s money.

“Good grief. You think only your sunglasses were bought with my money? Your clothes and shoes weren’t bought with your money either.”

“Weren’t the shirt and shoes bought by Francesca?”

“What my sister bought is different. Those were all my money.”

“Ah, yes. I see…”

I adjusted my proudly swindled sunglasses and smiled brightly. Veronica glared at me, trembling with anger, while I lay back on the sun bed, basking in the sunshine pouring over my body.

“This is nice.”

The sunshine is warm and the scenery is spectacular. When I lie down relaxing my body, it feels like floating on water.

Unlike crowded beaches, this place is a military-controlled area, so we can enjoy our rest without any disturbance. That’s why I was sprawled out on the bed, sipping a cool drink through a straw.

Currently, there are three people using this place, including myself.

One is Veronica, lying next to me and shaking her head as if bored, and the other is Francesca, swinging a sword diligently in the distance.

Francesca was wielding a Fatalia Army saber. With the intense sunlit coast as her backdrop, she looked more like a swordsman than a magician as she practiced with her sword.

I quietly admired her skill.

“She’s good. When she holds a staff, she looks just like Gandalf.”

“Gan-what?”

Although I’m no expert in swordsmanship, Francesca’s skill was visibly impressive. I’d heard she’d handled swords since childhood, but I didn’t know she was this skilled.

While I was admiring Francesca’s swordsmanship, Veronica, lying on the sun bed, crossed her arms and showed a pleased expression.

“My sister is quite good, isn’t she?”

“Yes, she certainly is.”

Pleased with the praise for her sister, Veronica smiled and brought up various topics. She talked about what kinds of swords Francesca has, that she can handle weapons other than sabers, that although she’s rumored to only make potions, alchemists can surprisingly fight well, and asked if I’d heard of rune swords…

Veronica’s stories were interesting. Especially about rune swords. Although I knew about them as common knowledge in a world where magic exists, the term “rune sword” immediately caught my interest.

Rune swords were items I’d seen in games.

Of course, it’s such an old memory that I’d have to look it up in my notes, and I wondered if games even had meaning anymore, but I quickly picked up Veronica’s mention of rune swords and stored it in a corner of my brain.

“That’s an interesting story. By the way, where did she learn swordsmanship?”

“From a private tutor, as I understand. He was a retired magician who had been a successful adventurer and was skilled with swords.”

“A private tutor?”

Wasn’t it at the academy? I thought there were many half-talents with magical power but no spell-casting ability who learned swordsmanship or martial arts at academies.

“She was marked by the Security Bureau.”

“Ah…”

“What teacher would teach swordsmanship to a sister under surveillance by the National Security Bureau?”

The sudden mention of past history dampened the mood.

Veronica looked at Francesca with a bitter gaze. Francesca, perhaps sensing the gaze directed at her, glanced over, gave a small greeting, and then refocused on her sword.

After staring at Francesca with a wistful look for quite some time, Veronica lamented quietly.

“She’s really pitiful.”

It was an ambiguous statement that didn’t clarify who she was lamenting.

Veronica, sprawled on the sun bed, changed the subject to lighten the mood. In other words, she started teasing me.

“While my sister is practicing so diligently, what are you doing, Major…”

“Why are you suddenly acting up, Saint?”

“Well… Someone is studying and practicing hard for the future ahead. But you, Major, are just sitting here comfortably.”

I took off my sunglasses with a curious smile and turned to look at Veronica.

“Who says I’m not working?”

*

When politicians or high-ranking officials step down and become private citizens, many people seek them out, but this doesn’t apply to civil servants. A retired civil servant is just a civilian.

Unfortunately, I was a civil servant.

Although I work for an intelligence agency, due to my limited social circle, no one contacted me during my vacation except family. Even Pippin and Jake didn’t reach out.

Of course, I don’t mind that. However, I couldn’t avoid feeling somewhat melancholic in a corner of my heart.

I decided to cast off all the shackles and constraints of this world and search for happiness.

In a serene forest near the resort. The sunshine pouring down is so warm it’s hard to believe it’s December, and the sound of birds chirping can be faintly heard. I filled my lungs with fresh air and savored the scent of the forest created by nature.

“Mmm!”

“The air is nice.”

I walked along the narrow forest path with Camilla.

We were in a valley formed in a basin, with the forest curving greatly to the north.

“The oak trees here are of really good quality. They’re used for making oak barrels, and because they’re sturdy, they were once the main material for building sailing ships.”

I tapped an oak tree with my hand and commented.

“This place, the southeastern part of Abas, is similar to the Mediterranean. Camilla, have you ever been to the Mediterranean region?”

“Sicily and Valencia.”

Italy and Spain, huh.

“You’ve been to nice places. Italy and Spain are, well, fantastic locations.”

“Have you been there?”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

I smiled gently and shook my head.

“As I mentioned before, I haven’t been to Western Europe except for Germany. At most, I’ve only been to Eastern Europe. But many of my friends have gone.”

“Friends?”

“Intelligence officers.”

Some are in the Defense Intelligence Command, some have moved to the National Intelligence Service. Quite a few seniors and juniors have been dispatched there.

Reminiscing about old times, I continued with a casual smile.

“I mainly went to third-world regions like Africa or the Middle East. Of course, I could have been assigned to Europe or the Americas since I speak English as a basic and some European languages, but there weren’t many openings there.”

“No openings? Why?”

“Because they’re developed countries friendly with South Korea.”

Developed countries with advanced infrastructure are preferred postings for intelligence officers. Moreover, if the country has close diplomatic relations with one’s own country, it’s even more preferred.

“France, Germany, Canada, UK, US… Intelligence officers find it easier to work in such countries. It’s relatively easier, though not without work. Most of these countries have many famous tourist spots, making them good for leisure too.”

“So even spies have fun.”

“We’re people too. And since there’s a lot of exchange with allied or friendly intelligence agencies, we can meet with their intelligence officers and learn various things.”

The magician, a Cambridge student and aspiring intelligence officer, raised the corners of her lips.

“By the way, Camilla, have you ever slept rough?”

“Slept rough? I’ve done it once at an airport… Why?”

“I’ve slept rough quite a few times. Many times, actually.”

“Why would you sleep rough? What happened?”

“Just, you know, for work.”

Can you imagine five or six intelligence officers collectively looking like beggars, lying on the street? Being bitten by mosquitoes all night while sleeping rough was one of the worst experiences of my life.

“We had to sleep somewhere but had no accommodation. There were no lodging facilities, but we had equipment to take care of, so we had to sleep rough. It was in Africa. In a particularly underdeveloped region.”

“Ah… That sounds tough…”

“North Africa was okay though. Places like Morocco are similar to Islamic cultural regions, so the food suited me, and it was good in many ways.”

I walked along, reminiscing about the old days.

“Why did you join the intelligence agency? Was it because of movies?”

“Oh, I just received a job offer and joined.”

“A job offer?”

“I had good grades. Good university GPA, high commissioning scores, and I could speak French and Chinese besides English. Of course, the fact that my grandfather and father worked in intelligence agencies probably had some influence.”

Camilla nodded as if she understood.

“So your grandfather and father were in intelligence agencies.”

“To be precise, my grandfather was from an intelligence agency. The National Intelligence Service.”

“Then your father…?”

“Defense Intelligence Command. The same unit as me.”

“Ah.”

“That’s why a recruitment officer, who was my father’s friend, came directly. I used to call him uncle when I was young…”

“Were you close?”

“Very. Uncle helped me until I went to university. Of course, others did too.”

We matched our steps as we traversed the soft dirt path. While walking, a thought suddenly struck me, and I laughed casually.

“This is a first.”

“What is?”

“Talking to someone about my work. I’ve never told anyone else.”

Whether it’s the National Intelligence Service or the Defense Intelligence Command, you can’t disclose that you’ve joined the company except to family. The same goes for spouses. Only after passing the company’s background check and getting married can you finally say you belong to an intelligence agency. That’s the internal rule.

So, apart from my mother, Camilla was actually the first person to know I was in the Defense Intelligence Command.

I playfully said to Camilla, who was laughing for no reason:

“Don’t tell anyone.”

“Would people even believe me if I did?”

“Well… Now that I think about it, you’re right.”

We looked at each other and laughed casually. I guess social misfits really do get along with each other.

Camilla and I navigated through the densely packed oak trees. She seemed fascinated by the forest in this neighborhood, showing interest in unknown plants along the path, and occasionally closing her eyes to inhale the fresh air.

Thus, enjoying nature’s gifts, we gradually advanced toward our destination.

Finally, we arrived.

“A warehouse…?”

At the end of the forest path was a clearing. A dilapidated warehouse stood in the modest clearing.

While Camilla curiously examined the shabby warehouse, I unlocked the door with the key I had brought.

“It’s dark…”

“Come in carefully. You might get hurt.”

The interior of the warehouse, without a ray of sunlight, was dark. I found the power switch by feeling along the wall and turned on the lights.

The old lights came on one by one with an ominous sound. I tapped the flickering lights and looked around the interior of the warehouse.

Eventually, my eyes fell on several duffel bags placed in a corner.

“Ah, there they are. Camilla, could you bring those over?”

“What?”

“Please move those bags over here.”

By the time I had cleared the dust-covered desk that had been left unattended, Camilla came over with her hands full of duffel bags, groaning with effort.

Judging by the effort it took Camilla to move the imposing duffel bags, they must be quite heavy. Sure enough, as Camilla heaved the duffel bags onto the desk with a “heave-ho,” the desk shook slightly with a thud.

“What’s all this?”

Camilla, having moved all the duffel bags, asked with excited breath.

I slightly lowered the zipper to check the contents, then pulled it all the way and opened the bag wide.

“Guns. A shit ton of guns.”

Inside the khaki duffel bag were an enormous number of guns.

*

“Alright, turn it all out.”

I emptied the duffel bag completely, shaking out all the equipment. With a rumble, the equipment that had filled the duffel bag spilled out like water.

Numerous firearms bounced onto the desk. Camilla’s eyes widened like a child seeing Christmas presents, and I continued to flip over the heavy duffel bag, pulling out the remaining items.

Guns, guns, and more guns.

“Hmm. I brought everything properly.”

“What is all this?”

“Guns. Guns for your training, Camilla.”

Leaving Camilla standing there still unable to gather her wits, I examined the firearms and smiled with satisfaction.

“Why are you standing there blankly? Are you going to stand all day?”

Camilla looked at me with bewildered eyes. She pointed at the pile of guns and stammered a question.

“S-surely we’re not going to use all of these…?”

“Do you think I brought all these guns for display? I’m not a gun collector. Of course we’re going to use them all.”

I patted the shoulders of the half-dazed Camilla and began explaining each firearm. The first one I picked up was a handgun.

“Generally, intelligence officers don’t often find themselves in situations where they need to use guns. But since situations where guns are necessary aren’t entirely absent, all intelligence officers must undergo firearms training during their development process. When the moment comes to defend yourself, you have no choice but to use a gun.”

I showed my fingers.

“Handguns carried by intelligence officers have certain characteristics. First, they must be easily portable. Second, they must be readily available. Third, they must be compatible with silencers. Fourth, they must be economical. Regardless of nationality or region, handguns that meet these four characteristics are typically favored.”

“Economical?”

“Guns and ammunition that can be easily obtained in any region.”

To answer Camilla’s question, I pulled out a few examples. There’s nothing better than examples for easy explanation.

“You enjoyed watching 007, right? Do you remember what handgun James Bond carries throughout the series?”

“Isn’t it the PPK?”

“That’s right.”

I began explaining using 007 as an example to match Camilla’s level of understanding.

“Walther handguns are among the most widely distributed firearms in the world. The PP, PPK, and PPK/S can all be easily obtained anywhere. Replacing the barrel makes attaching and detaching a silencer extremely easy. Also, 9mm subsonic ammunition works well with silencers. Plus, they’re so widely available that they’re commonly seen.”

“Ah, so that’s what economic means.”

Of course, the PPK isn’t just economically superior.

“The PP, PPK, and PPK/S are subcompact in size, making them easy to conceal. Intelligence officers typically store their handguns inside their jackets. If it’s too big and heavy, it becomes cumbersome. But the PPK is so small that it can be stored in an inside jacket pocket. That’s why many intelligence officers have favored the PPK since the Cold War era. The same applies today.”

It’s not for nothing that 007 carries a PPK. Even though it’s a commercial film, the original author, Ian Fleming, was an intelligence officer who worked in an intelligence agency.

“Of course, there are cases where Eastern Bloc handguns are used. These days, Austrian Glocks with easy parts supply are commonly used in the field. I’ve used subcompact handguns like the 19 or 26 myself.”

“Have you used other handguns?”

“Well, Sig, Smith & Wesson, Springfield, Walther… I’ve tried various new handguns, but I haven’t used that many. Since I was assigned to Africa and the Middle East.”

“Why?”

“They stand out.”

In third-world regions like Africa or the Middle East, flashy handguns attract attention just by their presence. They’re treated as luxury items.

And since the chances of an intelligence officer getting screwed skyrocket like Bitcoin the moment they stand out, intelligence officers operating in Africa and the Middle East tend to use handguns that can be easily obtained locally.

I continued my explanation while checking the condition of the handgun.

“Back to the main point. As I explained earlier, intelligence officers primarily carry handguns for defensive purposes, so they prioritize securing handguns.”

Here’s a question.

“Then why do intelligence officers avoid submachine guns, rifles, and sniper rifles?”

“Um… Because they stand out…?”

I nodded with a grin at Camilla’s answer.

“That’s right. Submachine guns, rifles, and sniper rifles are bulky, making them easy to notice. Of course, they are used in the field, but usually only for assassination operations. They’re not carried when meeting with informants or going out.”

“Then do I only need to practice with handguns?”

“No. You need to undergo all the training.”

Unfortunately, Camilla was destined to travel through various conflict zones. Therefore, she needed to be able to handle any type of firearm, at least to some extent.

After smiling at Camilla, who was already whining at the prospect of hardship ahead, I handed her two handguns.

“Here, these are the handguns we’ll be using from today.”

I put down one of the two handguns. Then I showed Camilla the handgun I was holding.

“Familiar, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I saw it at the department store.”

She had been making a sad face, but brightened up when she recognized the handgun I offered. I placed the handgun in her hand, and Camilla received it, caressing it with both hands. Of course, I hadn’t loaded any ammunition.

“What Camilla is holding now is an automatic handgun used by the Abas military. It holds 9 rounds including the chamber. Being subcompact in size, it’s easy to handle in tight spaces, so it’s mainly used by mechanized units, armored units, and intelligence agencies.”

“I see. But this looks like a PPK?”

“It shares some features, but it’s not exactly the same.”

I pointed to the slide part of the handgun she was holding.

“Originally, the PPK has a decocking lever in this part. But this handgun doesn’t have a decocking lever, so you have to manually grab the hammer, fire it, and then slowly return it with your hand. It’s a safety measure, so you must do this after firing.”

“Any other precautions?”

“Just don’t do what they tell you not to do at the shooting range. Don’t point the muzzle at people, keep the safety on, don’t enter the firing line carelessly, always maintain finger safety…”

After giving her a few precautions and explaining the characteristics of the Abas handgun, I moved on. I took back the handgun and handed her the one I had put down on the floor.

“This is a handgun manufactured in the Kiyen Empire. You know what kind of place the Empire is, right?”

“Hmm. A hostile nation…?”

That’s right. Abas and the Kiyen Empire are adversaries. Like the United States and the Soviet Union that divided the world during the Cold War.

Of course, the US and USSR weren’t always hostile, and considering that the US actually lent loans to the USSR to help solve food problems, or that they established embassies and traded with each other, their relationship wasn’t as fiery as that between South and North Korea. Camilla probably thought that far too.

“What Camilla is holding now is the standard issue handgun of the Imperial Army. It’s used by military and police, and also by intelligence agencies, but since the Empire has exported or donated it to friendly countries many times, you can see it quite often if you go to other continents. Personally, I think it’s similar to the Tokarev.”

“It looks like an AK.”

“The real AK is their rifle… Well, we’re only going to use handguns today, so let’s talk about that next time.”

I explained the characteristics of the Imperial Army’s standard handgun. I showed her how to disassemble and reassemble the gun, pulled the slide to show the replaced barrel, and even demonstrated how to attach the dedicated silencer. The same went for the Abas Army’s standard handgun.

“Did you see well?”

“Yes.”

“Then try disassembling and reassembling it now.”

“What…?”

“If you’re going to be an intelligence officer, you should be able to remember roughly what you’ve seen with your eyes. If you forget right away, are you even human? You’d be a goldfish.”

“…”

The real training began. Camilla started by disassembling and reassembling the two handguns, and then learned how to maintain them.

Having handled handguns before, she didn’t look awkward checking the firearms, but since it was her first time with these particular guns, she fumbled a bit. In the end, only after I gave her hints from the side did Camilla finally succeed in assembling the handgun. After a few more rounds of disassembly and reassembly, I proceeded to firearms training with Camilla.

“Handgun shooting is simple. We’ll start with basic posture, then move on to precision shooting, rapid firing, dynamic shooting, and one-handed shooting assuming injury. Today, let’s just do precision shooting as a warm-up. Take these earplugs.”

“Yes.”

“Let’s start by shooting about 100 rounds just for fun, shall we?”

“…What?”

I did live-fire practice with the stunned Camilla. I joined her for rehabilitation purposes, and after a round of shooting, Camilla muttered that she really didn’t think we’d shoot 100 rounds.

“We really did shoot that many. I’ve never shot this much before…”

It seemed Camilla hadn’t fully grasped the reality yet. After removing the empty magazine and checking the chamber, Camilla suddenly put down the handgun, apparently thinking we’d only shoot 100 rounds.

“Camilla.”

“Yes.”

“Who told you to put down the handgun now?”

“Aren’t we done…?”

“What nonsense are you talking about? This isn’t some neighborhood shooting range where you can end the shooting whenever you want. This is proper training.”

I picked up the magazine rolling on the floor and found a few boxes piled in the duffel bag. I handed them to Camilla and instructed her to load them herself for the next round of shooting.

We repeated this several times.

By sunset, Camilla, who had completed hundreds of rounds of shooting, left the firing line almost in tears.

“But it was fun, right?”

“Be quiet…”