WeTried Translations
Translator: Coughing Baby
Editor: Coughing Baby
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ The Little Prince in the Ossuary
Chapter 69
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Intermission & Journal
#Intermission, Will to Fight and Combat Fatigue (2)
Combat fatigue in 「Days after Apocalypse」 is a device used to portray psychological trauma. Because of that, it can surface in everyday life, especially when everyday life itself is no different from combat.
That is why managing combat fatigue is a core part of running a community. To run things more efficiently, a leader may need to suppress members' combat fatigue, or at times even encourage it.
Yes, that is right. You did not misread it. Deliberately creating combat fatigue is one of the key techniques in community management and personnel control.
Take this example. People's trauma often feeds directly into their political leanings. They simply never want to go through that trauma again. If it feels like even a fragment of that old pain might return, they react with instinctive rejection. It is self-preservation. Rational judgment has little room to intervene.
In reality, the political conservatism of war veterans is the clearest example. After experiences that horrific, they come to treat survival and preservation of the status quo as the highest values, for themselves and for their community.
That can also become a way to create fanatical supporters.
Of course, this is optional. If you are a truly outstanding leader, you can gain enough support without intentionally using this method. That is also the right path.
At the same time, combat fatigue can become a turning point for growth. That is true in real life as well. Nietzsche put it this way in 「Twilight of the Idols」: "What did not kill me made me stronger." You have heard stories like that at least once, of people who grew stronger after enduring mental wounds.
In 「Days after Apocalypse」, this appears as an expansion of latent potential. It falls in the same broad category as growth through accumulated experience, but in system terms it is separate. In other words, it is completely distinct from improvement through skill acquisition.
Naturally, it is not easy. You must leave only the level of mental wound that person can endure, and every person has a different limit. The key is how accurately you can 「Perception」 that line. Without 「Insight」 to support it, it would be impossible.
In some cases, it may be impossible from the start. 「Insight」, the core of the Leadership line, functions in completely different ways and with completely different efficiency depending on your aptitude and disposition.
#Journal, Page 91, Camp Roberts
Three days had passed since I returned to camp.
During that time, the garrison was reinforced, and the camp commander was replaced. As Camp Roberts rose in strategic importance, the commander's rank had to rise as well. Now, the commander of 「Seventh California」 was concurrently serving as camp commander.
The previous commander, the third battalion commander, was disciplined. His attempt to dump all responsibility on the Operations Officer failed. The incident was so large that Blockade Command dispatched a full investigative team. Plenty of people testified about the battalion commander's negligence. On Christmas Eve, he had passed out drunk. In an emergency, that was unacceptable.
The issue was the new commander. Fort Hunter Liggett had successfully blocked the night raid, but it had not done as well as Camp Roberts. There were many dead. The former regimental commander of 「Seventh California」 was among them. He had been stationed at Hunter Liggett with the second battalion.
Bad luck. They said he had gone on night patrol on Christmas Eve to encourage the sentries, and was killed as soon as the attack began. A man can be too diligent for his own good.
Because of that, the camp commander position had been vacant for the past few days. It took three days for the new regimental commander to assume post. During that time, First Battalion Commander Lieutenant Colonel Farrell Ramos served as acting commander.
And today, the regimental commander arrived.
There was no inauguration ceremony. Most of the forces were deployed to defensive fortification work, and the regimental commander himself did not want time wasted on unnecessary events.
I did receive a personal summons.
"Good to meet you, Lieutenant. I am Lieutenant Colonel Gerald M. Laughlin, commander of the 160th Regiment and, as of today, responsible for Camp Roberts... ah, Colonel now. My apologies. I am still getting used to the new rank."
The dark-skinned regimental commander covered his slip with easy humor.
His slip came from position-based promotion. It was a system that temporarily granted the rank needed for a role, regardless of permanent grade.
A U.S. regimental commander was usually a lieutenant colonel. But because he was also taking camp command, and had to command not only the regiment but additional support units and refugee support forces, he was made a colonel.
The dismissed third battalion commander had been the same. He became a lieutenant colonel while handling camp command, but his permanent rank was Major. He was likely paid on a Major's scale.
But he made one more mistake. I corrected him from parade rest.
"Excuse me, sir, but my rank is Ensign."
Then he smiled quietly.
"No. You need to get used to your new rank as well. Come closer."
When I stepped forward, he removed my insignia and pinned new ones in place.
"Surprised?"
I answered honestly that I was.
Colonel Laughlin patted my shoulder.
"No need to be. Your promotion was already planned early anyway. We just moved it up. Even so, it is true you keep shattering every record for time-in-grade... but compared to what you did, this is minor. The real reward is separate."
The moment he said that, I had a guess. They were trying to give me another medal. It had not even been half a year since I enlisted in the U.S. military, and this would already be my fourth.
First came the Bronze Star and a valor medal, then the Silver Star, and after Atascadero I received the Distinguished Service Medal.
From the colonel's expression, the level of that "real reward" seemed extremely high.
Could it be the Medal of Honor?
I remembered what Sergeant Pierce had said. The achievements I had built were enough for the Medal of Honor from the beginning, but maybe they gave me lower-grade medals to encourage mutual checks among the refugees.
"You will be going to Washington. I heard Congress unanimously approved your citation. You leave tonight by plane and should be back tomorrow afternoon."
The regimental commander turned my suspicion into certainty. A medal that required Congressional approval for the citation, and one I had to go all the way to Washington to receive. It was hard to think of anything else. He held out his hand.
"Rank aside, it is an honor to meet a true hero."
His grip was firm. In his utterly serious eyes, I felt my changed standing.
This incident was the reason.
A planned mutant infiltration was shocking enough, but the EMP attack was beyond imagination. I heard civilian deaths alone exceeded eighty thousand. Several garrisons were erased from the map, and even places that held the line suffered heavy losses.
Camp Roberts was the only place that came through intact.
Bad news is often covered with good news.
I had prepared for this when I agreed to become the U.S. military's recruiting poster, but as the scale kept growing, so did the burden.
It felt like people no longer saw me as the same person. In the end, a hero was just another tool shaped by necessity.
So my answer could only be calm.
"I could not have done it without other people's help. Thank you for your words, but I do not think this honor belongs to me alone."
"Of course. The investigation team from headquarters was not there only to find fault. Besides you, several others were selected for special promotion. Captain Capston, for example. Medals will be awarded too. So you do not need to carry this alone."
After asking more, I learned that most of Charlie Company had been selected for promotion or commendation.
Captain Capston was being promoted by two grades. To Major, it was a normal promotion. To lieutenant colonel, it was position-based. They explained it was because he would take over the now-vacant battalion command.
Until the interview ended, the regimental commander remained friendly toward me the entire time.
#Journal, Page 92, Washington D.C.
I am writing this journal after returning from Washington.
My lodging was the White House. I only stayed briefly, so "lodging" is not quite the right word, but I have no better one.
The whole time I was there, I was watched closely. Everyone clearly seemed worried I might escape. They called it protection, but having a whole platoon posted even in visible positions felt excessive.
Then again, that concern was not unreasonable. Any refugee dreamed of life east of the blockade line, in the civilized world. From their perspective, there was no reason I would be different. If I escaped, they likely had no confidence they could catch me, and socially it would have caused a massive shock wave.
I did not choose this, but I was a war hero anyway.
I had no intention of escaping. I had people I needed to take responsibility for.
Still, the view outside the window was beautiful. Beyond the fence, a garden covered in white snow. Beyond that, fountains rising without pause. In the distance, the elegance of the Washington Monument. It would have looked even better without crowds gathering just to see me.
Not having to worry about mutant raids. The peace of mind I felt there was truly special.
I badly wanted to take a walk.
On the off chance, I asked.
Of course, I was refused. The air in the room grew even heavier. I regretted saying it.
So I told them that if they were that worried, they could cuff me.
Everyone looked deeply flustered.
It was only a joke to lighten the mood.
The award ceremony was simple enough that no rehearsal was needed. It lasted a little over twenty minutes. I entered with the President through a crowd of applause, and my role was simply to stand still.
The rest belonged to the officer in charge of proceedings, the Chief of Chaplains, and the President.
"Let us pray."
At that one line from the Chief of Chaplains, everyone bowed their heads. I did too. I was not Protestant or Catholic, but I clasped both hands before my waist and closed my eyes.
"Almighty and eternal Lord, You who granted us this noble land and the legacy of true faith, we ask You to be with us as we honor this man who answered the call of duty to protect all that You have given."
"Under Your providence, Lieutenant Han Gyeoul saved countless lives from death through courage, honor, and devotion."
"Relying on Your grace, we believe this man will continue to keep the same virtues. In Your name, let this hero, who newly embroidered the tapestry of a great nation, be honored. And we pray again, let us Americans carry our days with the same courage and sacrifice as this man, so that America's history may continue forever."
"Today, we also give thanks for every encounter and every event that Your providence wove together so this man could stand before us by Your grace. We also give united thanks for all soldiers of the Army, Navy, Air Force, Marine Corps, Coast Guard, and Rangers, who are fighting in this age of hardship and adversity...."
"...Lastly, please hold in Your joy Lieutenant Han Gyeoul, the people he seeks to protect, and the nation to which he would devote his body. President Calvin Coolidge said this, 「A nation that forgets its defenders will itself be forgotten.」 As members of the nation he defended, we will grant this man every honor we can for protecting public security, and we will strive never to forget. We swear this before You and Your holy name. Amen."
America was not a religious state, but in tradition it stood close to one. As for me, I found that distinctive sentiment hard to share.
After that, the President spent time summarizing my service record.
This part was even longer than the prayer. The President tried to summarize not only this incident, but all the achievements I had built so far.
The reason was likely the countless cameras set up in that hall.
At that point, one guess came to mind. Maybe as I became more famous than expected, the previous decorations had become an issue.
Objectively speaking, I should have received the Medal of Honor back at Paso Robles. Sergeant Pierce could not have been the only one who doubted that.
Either way, every time the President finished a sentence, the people from all sectors gathered in the hall answered with warm applause. To me, their enthusiasm did not feel entirely staged.
Before a framed display with a blue background and thirteen white stars, the President finally pinned the medal on me. The highest honor an American could reach. A star wrapped in a green laurel wreath. At the center, Athena, goddess of wisdom and war, stood out in relief, and on the back my name was engraved.
「THE CONGRESS TO GYEO-UL HAN」
Receiving this alive was very rare. Most awards were decided after death, so people even called it an ornament for dead soldiers.
After the ceremony, I had dinner with the President. I asked for better treatment of refugees, and received a reply that it would be reviewed positively. It was hard to tell whether that was just political language or a real commitment.
That was how my half-day Washington visit ended.
When I boarded the flight back, that half-day memory still felt unreal. It felt like a dream, wistful, glamorous, and loud all at once.
And just like that, I returned to reality. My reality, to the people I could truly relate to.
============================ Author's Afterword ============================
1. I still have not signed a publishing contract. If a contract is finalized, I will let you know.
2.
Q. Cheongnyuryeon-nim: @Have you thought about opening something like a Donation Account? Once I get paid, I could at least send chicken money... Thanks to your work again, I started today full of childlike innocence. Tekeli-li! Later on, could the ghouls end up forming combat units like the vampire strike force in Hellsing and build their own political system?
A. I will think about a Donation Account after I become a better writer. Right now I still feel lacking. :) Hellsing... if it goes that far, would that not be too fantastic? I aim for heavy realism.
Q. MasterKalsolum-nim: @Rather than having ten arms or ten legs or ten heads, I would rather have ten properties. Dirt spoon crying.
A. I agree. Then I would not need to write novels either. Hahaha.
Q. Huinea-nim: @I saw this in the Noble serialization section too, and from the title I thought, ah, not this one, but then I saw the latest Seelv chapter and this work was next to it, so I went h... haaak! and told another site about it... Should I call it a blessing that I found this when it had around 90 bookmarks, or despair because there was too little to binge at once...
A. I thought it was a well-made title, so this is unfair. If it gets published, there is a high chance the title will change.
Q. twking5008-nim: @In the story it said "he gained more EXP from developing human relationships than from hunting mutants." I want to know the standards and conditions for EXP gain. For example, if someone "first" reported to higher command that weapon-using mutants were confirmed, and that had a major effect across the entire U.S. military, how much EXP would that give?
A. The one doing the evaluation is the Control AI, and all interactions between Gyeoul and the virtual world are evaluated. It is literally all interactions, so it is hard to define specific conditions.
Q. Dohwawon-nim: @So Gyeoul gives each virtual world special meaning as he lives in it. This chapter was really chilling. Not a combat scene or reflective scene, but in those calm flowing lines you could see Gyeoul's attitude toward Virtual Reality. It said his Virtual Reality compatibility is high, right? Is that connected to how he accepts the world as real? No, at this level of synchronization, I feel like a mind would break after dying a few times.
A. It is related to some degree. The attitude toward a virtual persona is also one form of empathy.
Q. CaMo-nim: Are mutants some kind of hive mind? If their intelligence goes up, I think we might see mutants building social lives among themselves too. You only sleep two hours.... Does sleep deprivation make you mentally foggy? I am worried. Writing is good, but please take care of your health while serializing. Thank you for another great chapter today.
A. Thank you for reading consistently. I am foggy from sleep deprivation. Haha. I have to go to reserve forces training in a bit...
Q. YureongSwagyul-nim: @Respecting humans is the role of humans... that line really hit me. I hope this gets published and completed. If it gets published, of course I will buy it. Looking at the comments, I can guess which publisher it is;) Fun stuff. I hope you sign under great terms. Side note, my Noble period is almost over, but I plan to renew Noble only for your novel. I love you, author. You know I love you, right? Yes? You know. You are a transcendent species with ten legs.
A. Having many legs is not always good. They fight each other. "Next hit is mine!" Bicker bicker!
Q. PangLingYingXUtsuho-nim: @Will it be an e-book or a paper book?.... If it is e-book, that is bad because e-books are hard for me to read... Also if you have ten legs, then ten arms too, so that is why your writing is this good.
A. I still do not know which way it will be. And even if there are many legs, there are no arms...
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