WETRIED TRANSLATIONS

The Wizard in the Poncho

[Translator – Aren]

Chapter 1 - A NEET Welcomes the New Year

The Republic of Korea Reserve Forces’ final emergency mobilization text arrived on the very day an 8-year reservist was about to throw away his uniform.

* * *

January 1st, 2028. A new year had dawned.

2 months ago, the company I worked for went under, forcibly promoting me into the proud ranks of the NEETs. This was the beginning of a new chapter for me, Baek Jemin.

To welcome the first morning of the new year, I threw open a window I barely ever used for ventilation and started dusting every corner of the apartment with a feather duster.

"Gaah! Cough, ack!”

A floating dust bunny drifted straight into my mouth and nearly took me out on the spot, but I’d sworn to start the year with a proper cleaning, so I refused to back down.

After that came the floor, which I mopped with greater vigor than usual.

Usually, I just gave the visible spots a lazy wipe with wet tissues, but since it was New Year’s Day, I went all out, moving furniture aside and preparing to scrub every last corner.

There was just one unfortunate problem. I didn’t actually own a proper rag for mopping.

Since the local Daiso wasn’t open to buy one, one of my grimiest-looking towels was promptly drafted into service.

Once the cleaning was finally done, I treated myself to a relaxing cup of coffee before turning my attention to the pile of clothes stacked in the corner of the closet.

That plaid flannel shirt? My mother bought it for me, so I kept wearing it, but after 6 years the collar had frayed so badly that even she probably would’ve told me to throw it out already.

Those ancient jeans that required a belt? Back in 2025, I discover the miraculous technology known as "elastic waist jeans." You just slipped your legs in and tightened the waistband like tying a taekwondo belt. With such glorious innovation in the world, why would anyone willingly suffer through the cumbersome ritual of putting on a belt?

Ankle socks? I bought those once because they were trendy and then immediately retired them after my shoes rubbed my Achilles tendon raw.

Turns out I owned way more useless junk than I expected.

Like a maple tree shedding its leaves to prepare for spring, I stuffed my old clothes into garbage bags by the armful.

Then I found something that naturally made me pause, throwing me into the mire made of regret and nostalgia.

A set of clothes I’d carefully kept around despite constantly cursing at the sight of them.

"Ugh. I’m finally throwing this damn thing away.”

My combat uniform and combat boots

I’d gotten them when I was discharged from the military, and only now, 8 years later, was I finally tossing them out. Since I’d been discharged in January, it always felt like I’d served one extra year in the reserves.

Of course, the moment I left the army with that uniform on right after my discharge, I felt this overwhelming sense of confidence. But after being repeatedly beaten down by the bitter realities of society, the uniform and boots had become nothing more than cumbersome baggage I hauled around every time I moved.

My friends told me I could’ve thrown them away after my 7th year in the reserves, but between being too much of a coward to risk it and too lazy to bother, I’d just kept putting it off until now.

I intentionally brought over an extra-large trash bag and tossed the boots inside before staring down at them with mixed feelings.

Then I suddenly blinked.

"Come to think of it, this is technically military gear. Can I really just throw it out like normal trash?”

I’d originally planned to shove it into a clothing donation bin but changed my mind.

So I pulled out my phone and searched it up. Sure enough, you were apparently supposed to remove things like rank insignia and nametags, cut the uniform in half, then throw it away in a standard trash bag or return it to the local reserve forces office.

The problem was that I’d run out of standard trash bags at the worst possible moment.

Apparently the boots could just be tossed normally, but leaving the uniform sitting there by itself somehow felt wrong.

After all, even straw sandals came in pairs. Combat uniforms and combat boots were partners too. If they were going out, they ought to go together and not be separated into different trash bags.

Such is the surprisingly deep emotional sensitivity of Baek Jemin.

"Ah, screw it. Whatever.”

I’d already fussed over it enough.

New Year’s resolutions or not, who in their right mind would want to deal with this annoying crap on January 1st, a precious holiday and my birthday?

As of today, January 1st, I, Baek Jemin, had officially turned 28. Sure, every day was basically a holiday for me these days, but a man still had his pride.

To me, resting means sleeping while everyone else is working, then playing while everyone else is busy.

If you work while everyone else is having fun and sleep while everyone else is asleep, that’s not resting. That’s just being a diligent member of society.

I shoved the bag containing the rolled-up combat uniform and boots back into the corner of the closet before continuing my cleaning. Even after separating out only the clothes that could go straight into the donation bin, the bags were heavy enough that I had to make several trips.

I wasn’t foolish enough to try carrying everything at once.

After all, what was the one thing overflowing in the life of this Baek Jemin, unemployed master of the arts? Time.

If spending more time reduces the amount of suffering I experienced, then that was what you called efficiency.

After going back and forth between my one-room apartment and the clothing donation bin three or four times, I could feel the apartment caretaker staring at me pitifully from afar while smoking a cigarette.

I answered his gaze with a bright smile and cheerful greeting.

"Happy New Year!”

"Yeah, yeah. Happy New Year to you too. Hope everything works out for you.”

After putting all the moved furniture back in place, I stood there looking at the freshly cleaned apartment and felt oddly proud.

Realistically, all I’d done was clean, but there was still this strange sense of accomplishment, like I’d achieved something truly significant.

Savoring that oddly satisfying feeling, I sat down at my computer.

"Starting January 1st by living responsibly and productively. This year’s off to a great start.”

It was time to reward myself for faithfully carrying out my New Year’s resolution.

I’d only been a NEET for 2 months after all.

It wasn’t like I was some fossilized veteran bum who'd been rotting away for years. At just 2 months in, I was still a fresh-faced rookie.

Smiling proudly at my own sense of achievement, I logged into Discord. The long-term unemployed regulars already waiting there immediately unmuted their mics.

[Happy New Year.]

[Happy New Year, hyung.]

"Yeah. Happy New Year, everyone.”

But there was no group more politically informed and obsessively up to date on current events than a bunch of terminally unemployed Discord addicts. Before long, our meaningless small talk shifted to the hottest topic in the country.

[Apparently the fog in Seoul’s getting worse and worse. Some areas supposedly have visibility down to around 30 meters. People are even saying they should start restricting access to certain districts.]

"This isn't Seoul. Why are you so obsessed with Seoul when you live way out in the Gyeonggi Province?"

[Hyung, you still need to keep up with current events. Besides, people are saying nobody knows where the fog came from, so it could spread into Gyeonggi too. And some restricted zones have already been set up.]

"I’m saying there’s no point talking about it when nobody’s got any real answers yet. So what? Have they figured out the cause?”

It all started with the bizarre fog that supposedly began creeping through parts of Seoul around late November 2027.

It was literally just fog.

Not frost, not smog, just thick, damp, clammy fog spreading throughout the city, pushing people’s anxiety to the breaking point.

Naturally, from the moment it started, meteorologists and various experts flooded the media with calm, authoritative explanations.

According to them, the fog was merely a localized weather phenomenon caused by climate changes, affecting the Korean Peninsula, resulting from higher humidity and warmer actual temperature despite colder perceived temperature.

Of course, those convincing explanations did absolutely nothing to stitch the public’s shattered common sense back together.

Even among our group of long-term unemployed degenerates and me, the fresh rookie bum, our opinions never quite lined up. At least we could still hold a conversation.

[Remember those trucks that used to drive around spraying white smoke everywhere? Maybe it’s something like that. Like they’re exterminating some kind of dangerous invasive insect.]

[Then they should tell us what the insect is first. This is definitely some kind of experiment. Like, what if they’re mixing trace amounts of psychoactive drugs into the fog? You know what happens after people get gradually addicted?]

[Hey, why do you only talk casually to me?]

[Because we’re close. I’m not there with Jemin-hyung yet.]

Watching the guy who was clearly waiting for the opportunity to drop the honorifics and start calling me “hey you” instead of “hyung,” I silently vowed never to get any closer to him.

Still, compared to the rest of the internet, he was practically a saint.

Any time you looked around to see if there’d been some new development involving the fog, the comment sections were almost guaranteed to be on fire.

“The deep state’s finally started population control.” “North Korea or China finally launched biochemical warfare, and the government’s covering it up because they’ve already infiltrated everything.”

“It’s a scheme to crash Seoul housing prices.” “Climate change itself is fake, so how are they explaining the fog?” “No, this is proof of climate change, which means we need stronger eco-friendly policies…”

In the end, everyone had already decided on their own answer.

And the conclusion reached by yours truly, Baek Jemin, was the following.

"So why the hell are Gyeonggi residents worrying about Seoul people? Shut up and launch the game already.”

Of course, that wasn’t my real conclusion.

My real conclusion was much more fundamental.

After spending the last 2 months rolling around as a freshly unemployed bum, I’d come to a realization. At this rate, I was absolutely going to evolve into one of those fully ripened, permanently unemployed lifers who wasted away for years doing nothing.

I didn’t have time to worry about some weird fog.

At least, not until I stayed up gaming all the way into the next morning.

* * *

-Bzzzzt—

A loud vibration buzzed through my headset.

After pulling an all-nighter fueled by a single can of Monster Energy, I slowly blinked my exhausted eyes and muttered,

"What is it?"

[You’ve got a phone too, idiot.]

"Don’t wanna take my eyes off the monitor."

[It’s nothing major. Emergency alert about restricted travel zones because of the Seoul fog. You know those disaster warning texts.]

"Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Seoul was over 2 hours away, so why the hell were they making every phone in Gyeonggi Province vibrate like crazy over this?

I checked the time just in case. It was 4:54 AM.

January 2nd. Thinking about all the countless Gyeonggi residents peacefully asleep, still basking in the final sweetness of the holiday before work resumed, filled me with righteous fury.

Then a single sentence slammed into my ears hard enough to completely erase my drowsiness.

[Hyung. I think this one’s serious.]

"What do you mean?"

[They’re saying multiple murder cases have been discovered inside the restricted fog zones. Apparently the bodies were already fairly decomposed, and the number of missing persons reports filed over the past 2 months has already surpassed 200. People are even saying the Seoul police can’t handle this alone anymore.]

-Gulp.

Someone swallowed nervously through the headset.

Without realizing it, I turned my head and glanced outside the window.

[There was apparently a debate in the National Assembly about deploying military personnel to help maintain public order, but the opposition side accused them of fearmongering and talking like they were planning a coup. The crazy part is that discussion happened over a month ago. And now they’re already pulling soldiers in under the excuse of ‘civil volunteer support’ to assist the police, yet people are still saying there isn’t enough manpower.]

[What a load of bullshit.]

Outside, dawn still hadn't fully broken.

I didn’t live in the middle of a city but in a relatively isolated area, so aside from the streetlights, there were barely any cars passing through. There was a small town about 10 minutes away, but at this hour everything stayed quiet.

The only light still on belonged to my room.

[But apparently this time there’s talk in the Assembly about mobilizing reservists too. No big political fight over it either. Though honestly this part still sounds like unverified rumor mill stuff…]

"What reservists? No way in hell.”

[Seriously. It’s not like a war broke out. Who the hell mobilizes reservists over something like this?]

"Exactly. Since when does some fog in Seoul lead to the mobilization of the reserves? That’s insane.”

[Hyungs. I literally said it was just a rumor. I’m saying that’s how serious the fog situation’s getting. Some areas are already under travel restrictions because the fog’s become too dense for CCTV cameras to even function properly.]

That was when it happened.

From the dim darkness outside, mixed between the occasional passing cars, came the heavy roar of engines. A convoy of military trucks rolled down the road.

Three old two-and-a-half-ton trucks drove through the dawn in formation, their open backs fully exposed.

Even from my second-floor one-room apartment, I could clearly see the soldiers inside wearing helmets, full packs, and rifles, being rattled around listlessly like exhausted sardines packed into a can.

-Clunk, clunk!

The uniquely unpleasant sound of military trucks rumbled through the air and pierced straight through my headset.

It wasn’t loud like a horn or sharp like a siren, yet somehow it still pressed down heavily on the heart.

Feeling both strangely uneasy and oddly reassured at the same time, I turned my eyes back toward the monitor.

"See? We've got our brave young active-duty soldiers handling things. No reason to drag reservists into this. Hell, forget riding in a truck. Old reserve fossils like us should apologize for existing and just walk ourselves to the rear line.”

Out of reflex, I checked the time.

It was 5:03 AM.

Nothing happened after that.

In the awkward silence that followed, our group eventually dispersed. I didn’t really feel like touching the computer anymore either, so I threw myself onto my soft mattress.

Before falling asleep, despite not believing in any particular god, I decided to pray to literally anyone listening.

Please, if you’re going to mobilize the reserves, do it next year.

* * *

And then came January 6th.

I, Baek Jemin, found myself heading toward the reserve forces ground wearing the very combat uniform and boots I’d been trying to throw away.

As I stood blankly at a crosswalk, a man across from me wearing a sloppily hanging combat uniform swayed lazily in place with a look that screamed that he was done with life.

Judging by the way he moved, he was probably heading for the convenience store behind me to buy cigarettes.

Honestly, I understood exactly how he felt.

I lifted the smartphone in my hand and stared at the screen in hollow disbelief.

[As unrest across the Seoul metropolitan area continues due to the fog phenomenon, the administration has requested parliamentary approval for a mobilization order despite fierce opposition… The National Assembly, in turn, approved the measure under the temporary condition that it remain in effect only until Seoul’s economic paralysis has been resolved…]

After 8 years as a reservist.

My final mobilization had arrived.

_________________________________________________________________________

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