Chapter 50

“Yes, that is correct, sir,” Deok-chul confirmed with a nod.

Myeong-joo cleared his throat with a thoughtful hum, observing the numerous officers moving about the camp before pressing further with his genuine curiosity: “Yet it seems very few troops accompanied the platoon leader? I see plenty of Aberrant officers wandering the grounds.”

“Ah, the platoon leader headed down toward the ridge at dawn with Sergeant Ahn,” Deok-chul reported innocently.

“…What?” Myeong-joo blurted in sheer shock.

Just the two of them? That makes no sense whatsoever.

Staring back at his flabbergasted expression with wide, startled eyes, Deok-chul offered a tentative explanation. “I overheard them saying the situation wasn’t particularly severe, and that the two of them would be more than enough…”

“Even so, when house-sized demonic fiends swarm in packs, how could going out with just the two of them make any sense?” Myeong-joo expressed his dismay in utter disbelief.

Only when Deok-chul flinched and ducked his head did Myeong-joo catch himself, realizing he was venting his anxious fury on a blameless boy.

Quick on the uptake, Deok-chul seemed to recognize Myeong-joo’s sudden embarrassment at having snapped without cause. With a calmness surprising for his tender years, the boy sought to reassure him. “I am merely a private, so I don’t know all the details, but I heard the demonic fiends prowling the foothills are low-tier and few in number. Please do not worry too much, sir.”

At that, Myeong-joo had no choice but to nod. He could hardly shout that danger was danger before a youngster trying so earnestly to comfort him.

Instead, Myeong-joo asked Deok-chul to lead him to the barracks where the Harmonizers were stationed. Only then recalling that the man before him was himself a Harmonizer, the young soldier cast him a curious glance, but asked nothing and escorted him dutifully to the entrance.

“Thank you, Private. I can manage on my own from here.”

“Uh, but the commander’s quarters are quite a distance from here,” Deok-chul noted with concern.

“I can find my way back alone. Run along.”

Giving the boy’s shoulder a parting pat, Myeong-joo watched him reluctantly turn away before drawing back the canvas flap and stepping inside.

According to Deok-chul’s explanation, the Harmonizers transferred to this extreme front line were all Grade 2 or Grade 3. Grade 1 Harmonizers had allegedly remained in the capital under the pretext of standing by for unexpected crises—though in reality, it was little more than the military’s discrimination, unwilling to risk high-tier Harmonizers in such a perilous wasteland.

“What brings you here?” a voice called out sharply.

Perhaps for that reason, the atmosphere inside the tent was distinctly barbed. Rather than recognizing him immediately, the occupants were simply on guard against an unfamiliar face entering their quarters. Lifting an eyebrow, Myeong-joo calmly swept his gaze over the handful of wary faces staring back at him before offering a relaxed grin.

“My, everyone is working hard. I am Sergeant Cha Myeong-joo.”

They exchanged murmured repetitions of “Cha Myeong-joo…?” among themselves before several dry, incredulous chuckles broke out as recognition dawned.

One of them scrutinized Myeong-joo from head to toe before venturing a hesitant query: “Are you the platoon leader’s… that…?”

“Yes, well, something like that. More importantly, is there anything I can help with? It looks as though you might be short on hands.”

Feigning nonchalance, Myeong-joo deliberately steered the conversation away from being referred to as Lee Yi-tan’s Harmonizer. Not only was he still unaccustomed to the reality of their marriage, but an uncomfortable, lingering guilt whispered that he had usurped another’s rightful place. Donning the affable smile typical of someone eager to change the subject, he glanced around the quarters before promptly snatching up a broom.

“I can at least sweep. Put me to work on the odd jobs,” Myeong-joo offered.

Multiple pairs of eyes stared up at him in sullen appraisal. To awaken as an Aberrant was essentially the manifestation of an innate physical constitution, which was why those who had been born with powerful, athletic builds often manifested as Aberrants; Harmonizers, by contrast, were predominantly slender and shorter in stature. Even among ordinary citizens, both Myeong-joo and Myeong-in were taller than average, standing a full head above these Harmonizers. Facing them with his considerably broader shoulders felt somewhat awkward, like an adult standing among middle schoolers.

“Kicking up dust like that, honestly…”

Hearing their waspish murmurs as they narrowed their eyes at him did not trouble Myeong-joo in the least. If anything, boisterous Aberrants were far more abrasive to one’s temper, as the incident in the bunker with Yi-tan had demonstrated.

Above all, it was only natural for them to view Myeong-joo with suspicion. Lee Yi-tan was a revered war hero whom anyone would admire at first sight; when an older, low-ranking Harmonizer suddenly appeared out of nowhere to claim the position by his side, who could possibly welcome him with open arms?

Before the regression, when the marriage between Yi-tan and Myeong-in had not yet been announced, Myeong-joo had heard rumors that Harmonizers across the military fought fiercely for even a single compatibility test with him. Back then, his only concern had been protecting his sister from their jealousy. When Myeong-in and Yi-tan finally wed, however, guests had unanimously praised them as a match made in heaven, sparing her any petty malice. But now, the one occupying the position beside Yi-tan was Cha Myeong-joo—an aging bachelor who had never bonded with a single Aberrant in his entire life. It was hardly surprising that they cast such resentful glances his way.

Myeong-joo paid their glares little mind. It was true enough, after all, and mere glaring could hardly harm him. If anything, he considered their reserved reaction remarkably mild.

Stepping briskly over to the Harmonizer who had grumbled about the dust, he smiled. “Allow me. Shall I move these over there?”

With practiced ease, he gently relieved the man of the blankets he had been carrying. Whether this particular tent doubled as an infirmary, the row of field cots was lined with clean unbleached cotton cloths, dried and disinfected under the sun to soak up blood whenever wounded soldiers arrived. Without waiting for an answer to his own question, Myeong-joo turned and began setting the blankets neatly atop each cot.

Sputtering in indignation, the Harmonizer raised his voice in protest: “What do you think you’re doing all of a sudden?”

“I reenlisted after living off odd jobs for years, so I can handle almost any menial work. Feel free to use me without hesitation. Once I set these down, shall I boil some water as well?”

When Myeong-joo cheerfully asked for more tasks, the flustered Harmonizer turned bright red and spun around to join the others who were watching intently. Since he voiced no further complaint, he seemed not genuinely offended.

Chuckling quietly, Myeong-joo continued with his self-assigned duties. He had a deliberate purpose for lingering here despite their clear reluctance to welcome him: it was the fastest way to gather news and rumors concerning Yi-tan, as a married Harmonizer could hardly go fraternizing among the Aberrants.

The platoon leader had supposedly set out to confront the demonic fiends with only a single aide, yet not a single soul in the encampment showed any sign of emergency preparation. That could only mean deploying with such a minimal force was completely routine for him. Myeong-joo wanted to understand, even in broad strokes, how Yi-tan had hunted demonic fiends and survived on this front line until now.

Moreover, unless Major Lee summoned him back to the capital, Myeong-joo would have to remain stationed here; he hoped to befriend these Harmonizers and resume the training he had missed in Seowon. If he put on a helpless expression and admitted he had no idea how something worked, the naturally meddlesome people of Great Han would almost certainly lend a hand. Establishing a sense of shared belonging among them would also help prevent the kind of harassment he had suffered in the bunker, for the collective strength of a group often served as an effective shield.

“…Never mind the water, but go fetch some firewood and coal from supply, then.”

Barely a century had passed since the nation’s founding, and the populace retained an endearing simplicity. Even after glaring at him with sharp, suspicious eyes, the Harmonizers quickly softened their tone into this sort of petulant compliance. Though the land scarred by demonic fiends was desolate and riddled with thieves, most ordinary people could not sustain malice for long.

“I’ll be right back with them!” Myeong-joo chimed cheerfully.

Pleased by their response, Myeong-joo offered a playful salute with his hand angled at his brow. Chronic illness occasionally left his limbs feeling drained, but compared to delivering gas cylinders in the dead of winter, fetching coal was hardly real labor. As soon as he turned to leave the tent, hushed whispering broke out behind him as though they had convened an emergency council. Shaking his head in amusement at their behavior, he strode away.

He followed Deok-chul’s earlier directions toward the supply depot when a sudden, violent grip spun him around. Before a pained gasp could even escape his throat, he was hauled upright by the wrist.

“Why are you here?”

It was Ahn Hee-wan. Looking down at Myeong-joo with a deeply shadowed countenance, her oppressive presence radiated an intense, icy hostility that brooked no argument.

“Why is someone who ought to remain inside the platoon leader’s quarters loitering around here?” she demanded in a grim undertone.

“…I was receiving a tour of the base. Did something happen?”

Even at that response, the sharpness in the air did not dissipate in the slightest. Quite apart from how difficult it would be to pry his wrist from her iron grip, Myeong-joo had no desire to look pathetic bickering over being held by a woman, so he simply looked up at her calmly. The pressure radiating from Hee-wan’s gaze was formidable. Myeong-joo held his ground without backing down, though in truth he had no idea why he had suddenly been drawn into a staring contest with her.

Taking a step backward, she commanded, “…Follow me.”

Releasing his wrist as dismissively as tossing away rubbish, she spun on her heel and strode forward.

Another chilling possibility suddenly struck Myeong-joo as he hurried after her brisk pace. “Did something happen to the Second Lieutenant?”

“…”