Ch.525Side Episode – Razor Blade and Broom
by fnovelpia
It was a time of farewell and disconnection.
Yesterday and today bid each other goodbye, and communion and integration scattered into fragments.
Every moment was filled with suffocating silence. Masks protected people from infection but also muffled the screams rising from their throats.
Daily life struggled like a radio wave drifting through emptiness, desperately searching for lost normalcy. Yet no one dared believe we could ever return to the way things were.
An era where hollow screams echoed through breathless silence.
An era where everything that could be cut was severed, and everything that could be hidden was swept under the carpet.
We were living through such times.
Side Episode – Razor Blade and Broom
After a significant decrease in COVID cases, the ban on gatherings was officially lifted.
Masks were now a thing of the past.
Daily life, which had been suspended for three years, began to recover its momentum in less than a year, perhaps due to pent-up resistance and a desire for compensation.
Yet even as everyday life gradually recovered, the world continued to suffer from severe economic problems and military conflicts.
A paradoxical situation where blood and tears shook the world before the pain of the epidemic had even faded.
Ironically, my daily life couldn’t have been more peaceful.
“Hey, check this out.”
While scooping a spoonful from my earthenware bowl, my colleague thrust his smartphone screen toward me.
It was Al-Jazeera.
Even at a glance, I could tell the video on the small iPhone was from the Qatari state media outlet. The distinctive Al-Jazeera logo in the bottom left corner was unmistakable.
I paused stirring my bowl with my spoon and slowly examined the video.
The protagonist of the video, with mosaic covering more than 70% of the screen, was a man.
He was frantically firing shells from what appeared to be a Soviet-made mortar mounted on a terrace.
After the mortar shook a couple of times, I easily guessed the identity of the man on screen.
“It’s a Hamas operative.”
“You recognized him? How did you know?”
“The band tied to the mortar.”
Between the legs and body of the Soviet-made mortar was a band with white Arabic writing on a green background. Anyone could tell it was a Hamas banner.
And the broadcaster was Al-Jazeera, wasn’t it?
“They’ve been showing nothing but Israel coverage lately. If it’s guys in civilian clothes firing mortars, they’re obviously Hamas.”
Since the outbreak of conflict between Israel and the Palestinian armed faction Hamas, Al-Jazeera had been unleashing intense criticism against the Israeli government daily.
Blood is thicker than water. As Qatar’s state media outlet, Al-Jazeera naturally leaned more toward Palestine than Israel, a Jewish state. (For reference, Qatar is an Islamic country.)
And Israel had to be extremely hardline for this to happen.
A junior colleague who was picking at grilled pollack added in a small voice:
“Last year, didn’t an Al-Jazeera correspondent die when the IDF (Israel Defense Forces) launched an airstrike? The atmosphere in Doha was very tense after that incident.”
“Doha? How do you know about that situation?”
“I have a friend working in Doha. He’s in his second year now.”
“He must be quite sharp to be sent to Qatar at that level.”
The colleague from Busan glanced at his junior beside him and fired off questions.
He was a friend who looked like a bear, whom the training officer had nicknamed “Asiatic Black Bear” after teasing him with “Did you come down from Jirisan Mountain rather than Busan?” And the junior next to him was nicknamed “Parrot.”
Not because he was cute like a parrot, but because when asked about his hobbies during an interview, he gave the surprising answer “watching parrot videos,” which earned him the nickname from office staff.
(For the record, the interviewer was so dumbfounded by that answer that he couldn’t say anything.)
“Israel and Palestine are beating the hell out of each other. The Middle East is always fighting about something.”
The bait thrown by the furry duo—Mountain Bear and Parrot—instantly set the peaceful lunchtime table ablaze.
As the employees seated around the table each began to speak up, the surroundings quickly became boisterous.
“The Middle East has always been like that. If you’re in charge of that region, you’d better get used to it.”
“I’m a Persian—I mean Iranian—specialist. How dare you lump me in with those Arabian scraps. Do you think the Persian Empire is a joke?”
“Eastern Europe is just as chaotic… Moscow and Kyiv, and I hear Yerevan and Baku aren’t looking good these days either.”
“Are those Azerbaijanis stirring things up again? Haven’t they been quiet since 2022?”
“I’m worried about my friend who went on a business trip to Nouméa. The rumors from the Paris office don’t sound good, and the news from the field is grim.”
“That’s relatively tame. Look at Beijing. Don’t you see those Chinese bastards acting up again? They’re absolutely shameless.”
The world was in chaos.
Conflicts between Israel and Palestine, Russia and Ukraine, Azerbaijan and Armenia… everyone seemed ready to tear each other apart.
As familiar topics emerged, the employees became increasingly vocal, creating quite a commotion. Meanwhile, I silently picked at my bulgogi, waiting for the conversation to die down.
While military conflicts are profound topics, in the 21st century, war stories are merely fleeting points of interest that pass by on screens.
After all, international affairs are just stories from distant lands.
Those hot topics that once stirred the global village had long since gone cold.
Just like North Korea’s waste disposal events (missile launch tests) in the East Sea’s international waters, which don’t even make it to the Naver news front page anymore.
In other words, the company employees didn’t really care either.
Sure enough, my colleague’s bait was soon overshadowed by news of a celebrity comeback playing on the restaurant’s television.
“Oh! Hey! They say Lee Song-ha is confirmed for a comeback.”
“Really? Wow, how many years has it been?”
“Who cares about Lee Song-ha from way back when? Baek Seol-ha or Jo A-ra would be much better, don’t you think, Team Leader?”
“It’s been about seven years since she disappeared. I was serving in Yeoncheon when I used to follow her concerts. Time really flies.”
“Stop talking like an old geezer and eat your food. Don’t complain about feeling weak and having shaky hands in the afternoon again.”
“Why would you say something like that?”
“Don’t you remember whining last month about your blood sugar dropping and not being able to work during communications duty? You got scolded for complaining about shaky hands in front of the section chief.”
“Aish…!”
The topic changed in the blink of an eye, and soon shifted in yet another direction. It was literally a stream-of-consciousness conversation.
“Everyone buy Nvidia. It’s hot right now.”
“I got bitten, so I can’t buy it.”
“Where did you get bitten?”
“By Intel.”
Stock talk.
“Who’s going on leave this time?”
“That’s me.”
“Oh~ Our Dong-wook is taking leave after six months? I’m jealous, you bastard. Congratulations.”
Vacation talk.
“By the way, did you hear Ji-soo is being dispatched to Japan?”
“Really? I hadn’t heard. Where is he going?”
“Tokyo. To the embassy, he says.”
“Lucky bastard. Bring back a girlfriend when you return. You must bring one.”
“In 2D? Or 3D?”
“Are you crazy?”
“…Oh, I almost forgot. Don’t mention this in front of Section Chief Chu. He’s not in a good mood right now.”
“Wh~y? Don’t tell me…”
“He failed again.”
“Wasn’t this his second attempt? Sigh… He’s going to end his career as a major.”
Promotion talk, and so on.
Nothing special was ever discussed when employees gathered.
In days that repeat like a hamster wheel, something special is as rare as a meteor striking your head.
My daily life is filled with unremarkable ordinariness.
*
The day always begins with fatigue.
“I don’t want to go to work.”
Hoping that a meteor might have fallen from space while I was sleeping, I open my eyes after 3 hours and 53 minutes to find it’s already a gloomy morning.
Today, I curse the sun—that cosmic-level slave who hasn’t gone on strike even once in billions of years—as I enter the bathroom.
Getting ready for work is simple: wash up, put on civilian clothes, and tie a necktie. The problem isn’t preparation but the act of going to work itself.
“Excuse me! Coming through!”
The journey to the bus stop near the office is long and treacherous. First, I have to navigate through the rush hour crowds to catch public transportation.
The overcrowded bus, as dangerous as an Indian aircraft and reeking of body odor, is as perilous as a Jewish transport train to Auschwitz. Young punks with backpacks proudly slung over their shoulders, horsing around with friends, make me wonder if they learned their manners from playing MapleStory.
Add to that middle-aged people yelling about why seats aren’t being given up, elderly folks talking loudly on phones, and passengers who’ve expertly claimed seats near the entrance like professional squatters.
After navigating this dangerous realm for about 1 hour and 12 minutes, I finally reach the office.
“Phew…”
After sighing in relief at the sight of the office, I head straight to the GS convenience store next door.
I use my Nara Love Card to buy bread and milk for breakfast (with a discount bonus), snacks to eat during work, cigarettes that ran out during yesterday’s duty, and so on.
After piling everything at the counter and watching the part-timer busily scan barcodes, I glance at my watch: 7:19 AM.
With a relaxed mind, I leave the convenience store, enter the building, greet the security staff.
“Thank you for your hard work.”
“Yes~ Have a good day!”
Carrying my bag to the first floor, greeting the staff, tapping my RFID access card, chatting briefly, then heading up to the office to smoke with colleagues.
The moment I sit down at my partitioned desk, the Ministry of Defense clock starts ticking in earnest, and my day begins.
“Ah, it’s cold.”
“Hey! Jong-heon. Why are you so sluggish when we need to finish quickly?”
“No, sir. I’ll do it right away.”
“Good. Do your exercises properly today. If you’re sloppy like before, I’ll just yank your spine right out!”
I do calisthenics to the cadence, ignoring the director’s voice berating a junior colleague.
As always, morning exercises were just morning exercises. The only difference was that unlike field units, we did them sitting at our desks.
Crack, pop, crunch. The sound of bones and joints screaming in protest is clearly audible. Ugh, aak, ahoo. Groans erupt from all around.
While I wonder if such sounds can really come from human bodies, the older officers add strange encouragements like “Ah~ that feels good!” as if they’d eaten two bowls of rice cake soup in their youth. (For reference, these people are still only in their 30s and 40s.)
After finishing the exercises by sneakily watching others from the back row.
Once everyone disperses to their offices and completes the situation report, the workday officially begins.
The work itself isn’t much. It’s mostly routine administrative tasks.
“Personnel office~ Where are you hiding your officer?”
“The personnel officer just went to the bathroom.”
“What? This guy is always missing when I need him.”
“I’ll pass along the message when he returns. Would you like me to escort you to his office?”
“Yes~”
“Who was in charge of Vietnamese translation again?”
“Private Soon Jae-hak. Should I call him?”
“Yes, please call him over.”
“Sir! Did you call for me?”
“Yes. Could you translate a few documents for me?”
“Um… but wasn’t that Senior Sergeant Kwon’s job? He speaks Vietnamese better than I do.”
“He’s on leave. You’re the only one who can translate right now. Besides, didn’t you attend Hankuk University of Foreign Studies? Vietnamese department, right?”
“I’m only a freshman.”
“Well, good luck. I’m rooting for you.”
“Team leader? I accidentally entered the wrong figures in this document. What should I do?”
“What else? You need to correct it.”
“The submission deadline is 11:00 today. It needs to be sent to the National Intelligence Coordination Office…”
“…You idiot. You’re a captain and you can’t even manage your own paperwork properly? You should have checked this beforehand! I’ll deal with you later.”
“What are you looking at?”
“Stocks.”
“This fool is trading stocks in the office… What did you buy?”
“Nvidia. Their stock price is exploding these days. You should buy some quickly.”
“I’m too scared to do that. Be careful not to get caught during security checks. And don’t let the executive director see you.”
“How many years of experience do I have? Don’t worry about me.”
“Hey~ Is everyone preparing well for the sports day?”
“Yes. We’re preparing well.”
“Good, good. Let’s show the commander how united our unit is at this sports day. Show our solidarity, you know? Got it?”
“Yes! We’ll do that!”
“…Senior? All our work is piling up, and we still have to prepare for the sports day?”
“I don’t know either. Why are you asking me…?”
“A colleague of mine went to the measurement department and they got new equipment.”
“Equipment? What kind?”
“Some kind of ultra-low frequency thing with amazing performance. From what I heard, it’s really impressive.”
“Ah… I should have gone into signal analysis. Why did I choose human intelligence? I could have had it easy in the office there.”
“Well, that colleague is on a deserted island now~”
“Really? Why did he go there?”
“I guess the collection site is on an island. Some of the interception sites are on islands too.”
“This is why everyone leaves the service.”
“Has anyone seen the director? I have some urgent reports to submit, but I can’t find him anywhere…”
“The director? Hey, has anyone here seen the director?”
“Oh, uh—he’s, you know, on the hill behind us! Check the hill. He was talking about wild vegetables recently, and someone saw him on the mountain the other day.”
“I don’t think it’s vegetables. When I was leaving yesterday, he was flying a drone. He’s been practicing to get his license.”
Of course, we don’t just work all the time; we occasionally take breaks.
If we only worked all day, would we even be human? We’d be machines.
When I head up to the outdoor smoking area, several colleagues are gathered to greet me.
“What is this rootless job’s tears tea? You look like a slave hunter chasing runaways, but your taste is quite refined.”
“And you, what are you, Bong-i Kim Seon-dal? Boiling instant coffee with Han River water? You were like this during the Georgetown business trip too.”
“You’re putting on quite a show… How do you guys come to smoke but only exhale without inhaling?”
“That’s because you’re an air purifier, sucking up all our cigarette smoke—Sir!”
“Oh, everyone’s here.”
“Yes, Executive Director. We were just taking a smoke break.”
“I see. Finish quickly and get back to work. And if anyone has a spare cigarette, give me one.”
“Ah, sorry. We’re all out.”
“Oh… I see.”
After hanging out at the smoking area, if we encounter a superior carrying Esse Change cigarettes and coffee, we all scramble down the stairs without a word.
“Whew—that was scary.”
I smooth down my startled chest and click my tongue.
As we sneak back to the office in a group, we chat while sipping our unfinished drinks, as always.
“Hey, what’s for lunch today?”
“Chicken!”
And then comes the much-anticipated mealtime.
At this hour, the beasts hiding in the partition forest rush out toward the cafeteria.
While military food is generally mediocre, company meals outsourced to contractors are both tasty and of good quality—certainly better on average than field units where food quality fluctuates like Bitcoin depending on the mess officer’s attention.
Of course, menu items like chicken are served in fixed portions rather than self-service, but the military is a strict hierarchy.
No matter how much the servers try to stick to “Sorry, the limit is two pieces per person,” they can’t withstand the pressure of “Don’t give me that crap and put three more pieces on there!” Occasionally, the soldiers perform reverse miracles of five loaves and two fish, leaving latecomers with nothing but rice and watery soup.
As soon as lunchtime arrived, we dashed out from behind our partitions toward the cafeteria.
The special forces veteran’s sprint was particularly artistic—a display of incredible power that even the sword techniques of a martial arts master couldn’t match.
But what was this?
“What the hell?”
“Hey, they said chicken. How is this chicken? It’s pigeon.”
“Did you guys secretly steal rations and catch pigeons from the park? Why is this chicken so small?”
“…Is this really chicken? It looks like coal.”
The chicken we encountered with such high expectations was in such a miserable state that one might suspect it came from Ireland during the Great Famine.
We witnessed the demise of our special forces colleague who had rushed ahead. The scene of charcoal lumps being piled onto his silver tray was truly tragic.
At this, we hastily abandoned our colleague and his tray and fled to the convenience store. With the power of frozen food, ramen, and the blessed convenience store lunch boxes, we erased the memory of that chicken from our minds.
After patting our full stomachs and facing a whimpering colleague, we took a smoking break on the rooftop before returning to the office, where afternoon work awaited.
“Excuse me. Do you call that an explanation? …No, you promised to deliver by the 14th. How can you change your story now?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Sigh… Remember those guys we agreed to exchange information with? They first suggested a deadline of midnight today, but when I contacted them, they said they’d forgotten about it.”
“What a bunch of crazy bastards. You’re having a tough time.”
“I have a headache…”
“Where did the section chief go?”
“To headquarters. He has a meeting today.”
“A message came from the operations room. I need to report it, but what should I do?”
“Give it to me and go back to work. I’ll forward it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What’s that office over there doing in a meeting for over four hours?”
“I’m not sure, but I heard there was some incident on site. They got a call from the East Asia Department on the executive’s work phone.”
“If it’s Young-joo’s team, it’s probably Eastern Europe… I hope it’s nothing serious.”
“About that message from the operations room earlier. The MIC (Ministry of Information and Communication) is accompanying the deployed unit for public relations, and something was caught on their radar.”
“Are they saying there’s a spy among the local officials?”
“That seems highly likely according to the officers in charge.”
“The operations room will investigate and call if it looks serious. Sigh… Sudan again, damn it. Can we please stop going to Africa…”
“For someone who speaks English, Arabic, French, and Swahili, that’s an interesting comment…”
“Please shut up, colleague.”
“You’re being so picky. Someone give this man some chocolate.”
With incidents breaking out every other day and paperwork bombarding us, I often felt like quitting. But that feeling was always short-lived.
As quitting time approaches, it becomes hard to control my rising smile. With a pounding heart, I endure while hoping nothing goes wrong today, and miraculously, I sometimes manage to pack up and leave the office earlier than usual.
Of course, not everyone was so lucky.
“Senior Officer Joo had an urgent matter come up today. We’re looking for someone who could take over his duty shift. Is anyone available today?”
“Suddenly asking me to take duty? What nonsense is that? I already have plans.”
“There are some circumstances. Please understand.”
“Other people have circumstances too.”
“Actually, his daughter’s water broke earlier than expected, and she’s been taken to the emergency room. His wife just got a call from her son-in-law and left first, and Officer Joo is currently discussing it with the section chief.”
“…Oh. Um.”
“Wow, that, that trash.”
“This won’t work. You take duty today.”
“Didn’t he say tomorrow is his 100-day anniversary with his girlfriend? Our Jung-gu is in trouble…”
“…Fine, I’ll take duty today. Please let the section chief know.”
Like the person who ended up covering the shift.
“What are you doing there?”
“Ah… nothing.”
“Wait. Are you crying?”
“No, sir.”
“What is it? Why are you crying, a grown man like you?”
“…I picked up a stray cat and kept it in my quarters, but the commander caught me. I just got scolded.”
“Hey… how could you keep a stray cat in your barracks? It might carry diseases.”
“I got it vaccinated and had it checked.”
“Still, it’s against regulations… But I understand your frustration. The commander keeps a dog in his quarters and even makes others walk it. Tsk tsk… Wipe your tears and come with me. I ordered chicken, let’s eat and get some rest.”
Or like the person living on base.
“Jo Sung-woo. Phone call.”
“Team Leader Jo! Come to the office right now.”
“The office…?”
“Yes! Why are you never around when needed?!”
“I understand. …But I just got off work, why call me back…?”
Or like the unfortunate person dragged back to the office after leaving work.
But it was nothing special. Isn’t the military the same everywhere?
This is just another place where people live, nothing extraordinary.
“Kuh— Kuhurk—”
“…”
“…Um, Commander? Should I wake the officer?”
“Leave him be. After eating two whole Kyochon chickens and reclining his chair all the way back, I’ll just have to wait.”
“Kuhurk—”
“Is this a classified document?”
“Yes.”
“And he left it on the desk?”
“…Yes.”
“Unbelievable.”
There’s the officer caught by the commander while enjoying chicken and a nap during duty.
“I made it!”
“Really, sir?”
“Yes! I’m a lieutenant colonel now!”
“Wow, congratulations!”
There’s the person rejoicing after a successful promotion.
“Oh~ Major Park passed the second round? Congratulations! How about we have a drink today to celebrate your promotion?”
“……”
“……”
“Hm? No?”
“…Yes! I’ll make reservations at a nice place!”
There’s the superior congratulating (or not) his subordinate, and the soon-to-be-discharged officer who celebrates (perhaps insincerely) despite failing his own promotion.
“Have you reached the staff?”
“…Not yet.”
“It’s been over 40 minutes since I called them to come in within an hour! What are they all doing?! You’re a major and you can’t even manage your subordinates properly!”
“I’m sorry.”
“Are any team members on leave?”
“No one is on leave or overnight pass.”
“Then why are these guys… Did they all jump ship?”
“I’ll check again and bring them right away.”
“You have 20 minutes left. Be prepared if they don’t make it in time!”
“Yes, sir. I’ll do it right away.”
“……”
“…Damn it.”
There are also those who cross the point of no return by jumping ship to start a rice mill business.
“Hey, hey. The whole place reeks of pork hocks. You should ventilate a bit.”
“We’d like to, but there are no windows.”
“Open the door, mister. Is it only people who come and go? Your mouth lets in solids, liquids, and gases, for crying out loud. What a stuffy person.”
There are also some rather suffocating people who show up.
“This security app never works properly. Why isn’t the beacon registering?”
“Network connection required? Hey! We’re in the middle of Busan, what network isn’t available! Ah, this is driving me crazy.”
“Latest version… I don’t know, damn it.”
People whose hearts are crushed by security apps are just the tip of the iceberg.
“…You’re leaving the service? Hey, is that something you should say in front of your senior? What are you going to do for a living after you quit?”
“I’m going to take the National Intelligence Service Grade 7 civil service exam.”
“Well, well. So you’ve been studying for the NIAT? Show-off.”
“Says the one preparing for the Military Intelligence Grade 6 special recruitment~”
“…Shut up, kid. Anyway, let me hear why you’re leaving.”
“I don’t think I’ll get promoted.”
“Isn’t civil service a more comfortable job? Honestly, the NIS looks much better than our company.”
“Well, of course it is, being a national intelligence agency. What else?”
“No matter how I look at it, this job doesn’t seem to fit my aptitude. I want to try something else in society.”
“Elden Ring DLC came out.”
“As I get older, there will be fewer things to do if I leave later. I think it’s advantageous to leave now.”
“I see… If that’s what everyone says, there’s nothing I can do. Everyone except the guy who mentioned Elden Ring DLC, get out.”
There are people leaving the service after consulting with their assignment officers.
Sometimes we encounter people from other agencies, most commonly inspectors—counterintelligence officers conducting security checks.
Besides them, we occasionally meet employees from the National Intelligence Service or the 777 Command. Sometimes we encounter people from the Cyber Operations Command, the police’s Security Investigation Unit, or Intelligence Department, but if we don’t recognize them, we just pass by and only later realize “so those were the people from earlier,” and even if we do recognize them, nothing special happens. We just pass each other with a “Thank you for your hard work~” and that’s it.
The spectacular, dynamic adventures that happen every day are only in movies. Reality is just a series of repetitive administrative tasks. Such adventures occur rarely, like finding beans during a drought.
The same goes for me.
A breathless daily routine. Moments that make me sigh and leave me speechless.
That was the kind of life I was living.
*
On my way home after work.
As I was finishing my ordinary day, an extraordinary visitor arrived.
“Uncle?”
Just as I was about to enter my home carrying a bag of fragrant fried food, a familiar middle-aged man occupying the front of my entrance came into view.
It was my uncle.
“Oh, you’re here? You’re quite late, kid.”
“What are you doing here? You should have called ahead.”
“I was just passing by and dropped in. I was thinking about you.”
For someone who claimed to have just dropped by, the chill emanating from his body was unusual. Suggesting he had been waiting outside for quite some time, his skin was ice-cold.
Of course, his good-natured smile remained the same.
I guided my uncle inside and began setting the table. Dry snacks, chicken, and alcohol were neatly arranged. He sat on the floor and looked around.
“Hey… What kind of single man has no hobbies? Your room is so empty it’s like the Taklamakan Desert.”
The nagging about getting a hobby was starting again.
As always, my response was practically predetermined.
“Even if I wanted hobbies, circumstances are the problem. How can I have hobbies when I’m constantly on business trips, deployments, traveling around, and suddenly being transferred to different regions?”
“Hobbies don’t have to be tied to one place. Fishing, hiking, Go—there are many options.”
“No. I’m not at the age to play Go or go fishing…”
Having hobbies was quite difficult in an intelligence agency. Especially in military and foreign intelligence.
With rotational assignments that periodically changed work locations, many employees gave up on hobbies when they joined, and those who loved animals and plants had to hold back tears.
Of course, there were exceptions—veterans who had served their full pension terms could freely keep whatever animals or plants they wanted.
Watching people in the office who kept orchids or tropical fish and fought daily supply battles (water/feed supply), I sometimes wondered if they were just salary thieves.
Still, these walking mini-intelligence agencies with 20-30 years of service were impressive in how much information they could process.
But that wasn’t me.
“Maybe I’ll grow orchids like you when I’ve put in more time.”
“Haha! Are you telling me to retire quickly and collect my pension?”
“Come on… When did I say that?”
I exchanged meaningless banter while drinking with my uncle.
Drinking with a workplace elder old enough to be my father might seem strange, but I didn’t find it particularly tiring or difficult. We’d done this often before.
“Take this glass.”
My uncle, filling a mug with soju, bit into a salt-covered chicken wing.
The seasoned snacks were reasonably edible. I chewed on fried peppers while my uncle twisted his joints and started the conversation.
“Where are you working now? Daejeon, was it?”
“Yes, Daejeon is correct. And where are you working, Uncle?”
“I’m at headquarters.”
The middle-aged man with a protruding belly pulling chicken bones apart was a soldier. More precisely, an intelligence officer—a military intelligence agent.
I was surprised to hear he was working at headquarters rather than a subordinate unit. I showed a newly surprised expression.
“Headquarters? Weren’t you a section chief a few years ago? But now headquarters again?”
“Of course, it’s a different department.”
“When did you get promoted?”
“Last year.”
I paused dipping my french fries in ketchup and did some mental calculations.
Given his commissioning year, the first colonel promotions came out last year. So, his promotion to colonel last year meant he was promoted in the first round, and was the first among his peers.
“Wow. First round for major, first round for colonel… How did you manage to get promoted every time without fail?”
“That’s what skill is all about, kid.”
Learn from me.
My uncle added with a pleased smile. It was an attitude only someone who had succeeded in promotion could show.
“You’re about to be up for major promotion soon, right? You should get promoted in one go. Take off that diamond already. How many years have you been wearing it?”
I laughed incredulously.
“Promotions don’t happen at will. If they did, no one would leave the service.”
“Leave the service? Why say such an ominous thing? Are you thinking of leaving?”
“Well…”
“Oh my… This kid must have gotten heatstroke rolling around in the desert. His mind is wandering.”
At the sudden mention of leaving the service, my uncle began to make a fuss.
The colonel, who even tossed aside his chicken, raised his voice like someone who had just witnessed their stock being delisted.
“Hey, what are you going to do if you leave? Society is hell.”
“You’ve never experienced civilian society.”
“That may be true, but… Anyway!”
As if it was a routine script for people his age, my uncle launched into “101 Reasons Why You Shouldn’t Leave the Service.”
Regardless, I let his words go in one ear and out the other. The talk was too predictable to be worth paying attention to.
“Do you know how good our company is? They help you get master’s and doctoral degrees on government money.”
After adding a few million won of your own money for living expenses, and facing disadvantages in promotion if you don’t obtain the degree within the time limit.
With the added bonus of extended mandatory service.
“You can be dispatched as a diplomat and travel around. You can travel the world with budget support, eh? For free! There’s no other job like this in the world.”
After staying up all night filing paperwork to get budget approval. And if problems arise later, inspectors come and grill you about why you did this and that.
You can go out as a diplomat, but for developed countries, there are too few positions and too many applicants—it’s like a camel trying to pass through the eye of a needle. And if you’re dispatched unofficially, you’re just “Spy 123” harassed by intelligence agencies.
If you’re unlucky, you might even spend a year in prison.
After silently listening to my uncle’s story, I put down my squid and briefly countered.
“Uncle. I worked from 6 AM to 9 PM today. Do you think those things matter right now?”
“…Ah, you’ve got me there.”
Faced with an irrefutable fact, my uncle couldn’t defend this point and just gulped down his beer.
After chewing peanuts silently for a while, my uncle, who had been smacking his lips, spoke in a bitter voice.
“Are you really thinking of leaving?”
I thought for a moment and then shook my head.
“I’m not sure yet.”
“Hiya… It’s becoming a problem with so many employees leaving like you. From lieutenants and sergeants to majors and master sergeants.”
“Several juniors from the next office are leaving too.”
“What did they say they’re going to do after leaving?”
“I don’t know. Probably going to take the National Intelligence Service exam.”
“Damn it.”
The truth that civil service is the best was proven even among intelligence agencies. No joke, there was no better place for an intelligence officer than the National Intelligence Service.
I’m sure they all know what they’re doing, but that agency’s recruitment exam is so difficult that even active intelligence officers fail sometimes, so 100% success isn’t guaranteed.
I’m not sure whether to encourage those who want to take this difficult path or hold them back because the military will collapse if they leave.
If it were me, I’d at least offer some lip service like “You’ve got talent. Work hard.” But my uncle chose to hold them back. He started hammering my ears again with talk about how society is this and that.
“Please, stop already.”
“But it’s true!”
“Surely there must be something to do out there. The world is full of jobs.”
“Don’t say that and stay until you make major. If you just continue like this, you’ll be fine. Your next assignment is good—the Middle East, Africa region is unique, you know. If you want, go ask your assignment officer.”
With those words, my uncle fell silent. That’s because I put down my glass with a clatter.
After putting down my barely-touched glass, I placed my hands on my knees.
“Earlier, you said you just happened to be passing by. Then how do you know about my next assignment?”
“……”
“If you have something to say, just say it. Why beat around the bush… You’re about to go around the world at this rate.”
“Kid.”
My uncle chuckled as he brought his glass to his lips.
“You’ve really grown up.”
The colonel, who emptied his full glass in one gulp, pulled a file from his bag.
“Read this.”
*
To cut to the chase, the file was an operation document.
I read the hundreds of pages of documents prepared by headquarters. I smoked cigarettes while turning the pages, and my uncle struck his lighter and began explaining.
“Eight days ago, a ship passing near Saudi waters was hijacked. It’s a 14,000-ton multipurpose cargo ship with a total crew of 28.”
Saudi waters meant Somali pirates were the issue. The Somali Strait was as dangerous as the Malacca and Sunda Straits.
For reference, the “Gulf of Aden” known through the media is this area.
“They used to operate around Socotra (an island between Somalia and Yemen), but now they’re active even in Saudi waters?”
“As equipment advances, business scale grows too. The talk about staying within 200 nautical miles is all outdated.”
Pirates hijacked a cargo ship. Fortunately, it’s not a Korean vessel.
Okay.
I examined the information in the report. There was less content about the main group than I had expected.
“Is this all the information? Why is there so little?”
“We couldn’t gather much on site.”
“Why not?”
Although Somalia is a complete mess, they still have intelligence officers there. I myself have experience rolling around in Mogadishu, and it’s also the operational area of the Cheonghae Unit.
Korean military units deployed overseas are basically accompanied by intelligence officers.
Even when the Sangnoksu Unit briefly operated in Somalia in the 90s, a major from the intelligence agency went in. Supporting deployed units is a mission with quite a long history.
The problem is.
“The cover was blown.”
The cover was blown. It means their identity was exposed.
I wonder what one has to do to have their identity exposed in Somalia. Since the counterintelligence agency is likely incompetent, was it a third country that caused the problem?
I stared at my uncle with a serious expression.
“Is the officer in charge safe?”
“Yes. Somehow an emergency line was established, and he escaped to a neighboring country, but now there’s no one to fill his vacancy. This request came from a foreign country, so it’s awkward to back out.”
“So you want me to go?”
“You’ve been in and out of Somalia several times.”
“There must be others who have been dispatched there besides me.”
“Hey, hey. How many Arabic and Swahili speakers do you think we have in the company? Everyone’s busy.”
For reference, Somalia’s main languages are Somali and Arabic. Besides these, English, Italian, and Swahili are also used—it’s a linguistic melting pot.
The problem is that non-mainstream languages like Arabic and Swahili are so rare that it’s difficult to find speakers even within intelligence agencies. So they keep pulling people out and rotating them like this. No black company is as black as this. I wonder what the Ministry of Employment and Labor is doing.
Unfortunately, I was the one selected this time. I managed to avoid it last time, but not today.
“Sigh… This is why a person should stay in the middle.”
“Don’t be like that. Think positively. How valuable is your rarity? Even the National Intelligence Service is struggling with a shortage of non-mainstream language speakers.”
“That’s why I should have taken the NIS exam instead of ROTC… Ow.”
I got hit for talking nonsense.
Anyway, it seems they looked everywhere and finally my turn came up.
I threw my cigarette butt into the ashtray and put a new cigarette in my mouth. Then I took equipment from the closet and stuffed it into my bag.
“Where am I going after this dispatch? Since I’ve been to East Africa, is it West Africa next? I hear the Sahel Triangle is quite hot these days.”
“If you want to go, you can. But if you have nowhere to go, come to our office. A position will be opening up soon.”
“Is there really a position opening at headquarters? There are plenty of people who want to go there.”
“I’ll create one if needed.”
“Oh my…”
Am I finally achieving my dream of transitioning to office work? What a strange turn of events.
As I headed to the entrance with my travel bag, my uncle handed me a passport and an envelope.
“ID. And this is for expenses.”
“Doesn’t the company provide travel expenses?”
“Just take it, kid. Think of it as pocket money.”
It’s quite thick for pocket money.
I tried to refuse, but my uncle forcibly pushed the envelope at me. He punched me in the stomach and quickly slipped it into my inside pocket.
Despite his age, it was quite a fierce punch. The story about him knocking down a North Korean spy with his bare hands when they broke into the branch office in his day was apparently not an exaggeration.
After providing me with cash, my uncle patted my shoulder and spoke lightly.
“Take care.”
“Yes.”
“Your father would have been proud if he had seen you.”
“……”
I silently opened the door and went out.
The time on the display I glanced at was 00:04.
It was the end of an utterly ordinary day.
Side Episode – Razor Blade and Broom – END –
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