Chapter 9: Chapter 1, Episode 9: Legion Etranger
That was the first greeting from the staff sergeant.
The regint’s garrison was in Calvi, a resort town on Corsica’s northwest coast. It was across the Ligurian Sea from Cannes, famous for its international film festivals, and Nice, the largest resort in southern France. It was a popular tourist destination, and every sumr, the number of passenger ships departing for Corsica from Nice doubled.
The headquarters of the Deuxie Rep (2nd Airborne Regint) was in a white fortress atop a hill overlooking the sea. It was built during the 15th century and reinforced by the 17th-century Genovians.
The view of Calvi Port from the fortress was spectacular. Passenger boats and fishing boats traveled slowly to and fro on the deep blue diterranean. n and won entangled themselves in embarrassing poses on yacht decks. With so luck, viewers could see groups of dolphins jumping in and out of the water.
Mu Ssang was assigned to the 4th platoon of the 4th Battalion of the Deuxie Rep. It consisted of two general combat platoons, one explosives platoon, and one sniper platoon, which was 140 people: six officers, a squadron commander, a platoon leader, 30 sergeants, and 100 soldiers.
On the second day after receiving his assignnt, he started training.
The program focused on infiltration, destruction, and escape. They worked on a variety of skills, including high-altitude parachuting, mountain terrain traversing, skiing, reconnaissance, sniping, martial arts, diving, swimming, explosives detonation, communications, duty organizing, street fighting, cold weapons use, heavy weapons use, weapon operations, and driving. The sole purpose was to turn these n into battle droids.
They did ensure that trainees had rest and free ti, but the training was hard work. They called the training an “invitation to Hell.” The instructors greeted the recruits with the words, “Welcos to the gates of Hell.” And within two months, five recruits were unable to endure the training and left.
Gates of Hell? Mu Ssang snorted. His body was different from the others’ bodies. When he ran through the hurdles with deadly determination, he could finish the 100-ter lap in 6 seconds. He could speed through 10 ters and jump up to 7 ters. He had the endurance of an adult marathon runner and the strength of a bull.
Because of the strange change that his body had gone through when he was eleven, it beca strong but unstable, a double-edged sword. At 20, his master taught him martial arts, and through the Combined Repetitive Expelling Theory, he stabilized his body.
Monk Dae Woo stopped him from being a ticking ti bomb, and Legion Etranger gave him his teeth and claws. After systematic training with modern weapons, Mu Ssang beca a warrior and a sniper. On Corsica, the “ils de beauté (the beautiful island) in the diterranean, they refined the best and the worst killing machine in human history.
The real Hell for Mu Ssang was swimming and diving. He had grown up next to a bridge that crossed the Nakdong River, but unfortunately, dog-paddling was the extent of his swimming ability.
The unpredictability of the Nakdong River caused drowning accidents every year. Park Jin Bo and his wife worried about losing their only child and kept a constant eye on him to make sure he didn’t play too close to the river. So, he never learned to swim. When he was a slave in his uncle’s house, he no longer had ti to learn to swim.
The Deuxie Rep did not accept his flimsy dog paddling. Sergeant Bernard of the diving division could not ignore this. Coldly, he tied Mu Ssang’s legs together and threw him in the sea. Mu Ssang swallowed so much seawater it made him hate the milky listone cliffs and the cobalt sea.
The Bijindo’s surrounding seas and the diterranean Sea shared the sa indigo color. The Bijindo sea’s indigo was the source of heartbreaking mories, and the indigo of the diterranean’s salty waters beca another gate of Hell where foul words automatically welled up.
Even the Deuxie Rep veterans had doubts about passing the 2000-ter underwater swimming and tidal training. He had to rely on flippers to complete the underwater swim. If his head broke the surface, a club flew his way.
Upon reaching the shore, he had to cross 500 ters of knee-deep marshy wetlands. A 7.62-milliter bullet passed over his head like the wind. The recruits’ teeth rattled because of this vicious training.
After the training, they gave them 90 minutes of weapon maintenance before dinner. The recruits awaited this more eagerly than they wanted a woman in their bed.
Nine mbers of his squadron had finished the wetlands infiltration training and were laying with him, half-comatose, on the beach. He enjoyed the sunset from the sand with squad mbers Goldman, Emil, and Chartres. The April Atlantic wind was warm, and it tickled beneath his ears as he began to doze off in its passing softness.
Goldman was a new recruiter, Emil was a two-year veteran, and Chartres was a 10-year veteran. Goldman’s face had turned white from tiredness. Mu Ssang, Emil and Chartres held a slow conversation.
“Emil, do you think this is the end of our swim with the fishes?”
At Mu Ssang’s words, his partner Emil laughed, “Why? Are you disappointed?”
“Not at all, I hate fish. I like eagles.”
“Park, if don’t take the air training seriously, you’ll be hurt badly. You’re too reckless. A single mistake can turn you into a frog falling from 10,000 feet in the air” Chartres, the veteran, gave him advice.
“I’m not big-nosed, Chartres, you are,” Mu Ssang’s French was still extrely lacking.
“Park, you should date won so you can improve your French. It will take a lot of talking to seduce one.”
“Emil, stop it. He’s innocent, the type of person with a chastity belt on his penis. Not like you, who goes around everywhere,” Chartres bounced Emil’s advice right back at him.
Wherever there was a military, there were won. Whether a veteran or a newbie, they all rushed towards the backstreets of Ajaccio during the weekends. Since all they did during the week was eat and train, they swept the streets looking for a place to vent their energy like a bull in heat.
Mu Ssang never joined the hunt. He had sent Hae Young away, but he never thought of that as the end of their relationship. Chastity wasn’t only for won. He would have been ashad to look at her otherwise.
On weekends, he looked out on the horizon from atop the walls of the fortress. He drew his mother’s and Hae Young’s faces in the sky. He recounted his master’s teachings and went over the nas that were on his death list.
“Why are you not tired, Park?” Goldman had returned after emptying his stomach and looked at Mu Ssang with a tired look. “I’m tired. You Koreans have high endurance.”
“F*cking hell!”
Goldman kicked the sand and turned around. He was a Spanish mixed martial arts champion, so he was confident in his physical ability. But he was exhausted and fatigued while the yellow-skin Korean had the energy to joke with his senior officers.
Private Emile elbowed Mu Ssang.
“He is a racist. Except for Jews, he considers everyone else inferior.”
“Like a Kedajjak.”
Mu Ssang wanted to hit the back of Goldman’s head. What kind of trash was he?
“Kedajjak?”
“Japanese are Kedajjak.”
“Oh, it’s a cultural thing.”
Chartres joined their conversation.
“He’s a Jew like I thought. I knew it ever since I heard the na, Goldman. A na with ‘gold’ or ‘silver’ in it is always a Jewish na. Just like them, so attached to their money, huh?”
Mu Ssang didn’t reply to Chartres’ words and rolled his eyes. It seed like cultural disrespect between countries existed everywhere.
“Here co the real racists.”
Mu Ssang’s and Chartres’ heads turned back to the beach. Sergeant Paul Mike and two other soldiers were coming up from the beach. Mu Ssang’s face crumpled. Mike, a black man, was a racist and an Arican imperialist. When he ets Asians, he calls them “monkey.” His father had been stabbed to death during World War II by a “Jap” as he called the Japanese.
The two soldiers attached themselves to Sergeant Mike. Mixing words with them always caused a scene. Mu Ssang covered his face with his Booney hat.
“Hey, there’s a yellow monkey sunbathing,” Mike shouted to his soldiers.
“Ha, look at that bastard, he’s swearing at you!”
Mu Ssang’s expression soured. It was obvious that the sergeant wanted him to hear. Emil and Chartres glanced at Mu Ssang, but he pretended not to hear. It was botherso and not worth it to react to the bullsh*t.
“It’s a monkey that shoots and dances well.”
At the soldier’s words, Mike laughed.
“Can a monkey’s toe fit in the trigger?”
“Even the Peking duck shoots a gun, why can’t a monkey?”
At the lack of reaction, they talked in loud voices.
“Why should a monkey be here anyways? We should send them to the zoo.”
“No, you sell talented monkeys to the circus.”
“They don’t have b*lls.”
“A monkey doesn’t have the gall to do anything but giggle at bananas.”
Emil couldn’t bear it any longer and said, “Park, the dogs are barking.”
Mu Ssang didn’t feel anything. He liked how the sunlight hit his side and ward him. It would be depressing to have this mood ruined by those ignorant people.
A soft voice leaked from under the large Booney hat, “Leave it. Dogs bark, humans can’t.”
Sergeant Mike heard the broken, rough words, and his mood soured. His rough, tanned face instantly turned red.
“What did you say, monkey?”
He walked over, stomping on the sand. He looked like a deer with large antlers trying to conquer a doe.
“You’re blocking the sun.”
A provoking reply ca back, “Soldier, I’m your sergeant. Stand.”
The military order within Legion Etranger was harsh. But they were promised so free ti from it. They had more free ti than normal company workers. Currently, they weren’t working or involved in an operation, so there was no reason to submit to a brash person.
“It’s our free ti right now. Move. You’re blocking the sun.”
“You monkey sh*t!”
Bang—
Sergeant Mike’s combat boot crashed down on Mu Ssang’s head.
“F*ck!”
“What the hell?” his friends shouted in shock. At that mont, they all imagined a cruel sight, Mu Ssang’s damaged face.
“Wait. What?”
Emil’s and Chartres’ eyes grew larger. The place where Mike had struck was empty, and all that remained was sand. Mu Ssang was lying down a foot away. It looked as if he hadn’t moved, as his hat remained in the sa position. Emil’s eyes moved frantically between Mike’s foot and Mu Ssang.
“Emil, is Mike blind?”
And so this special forces sergeant beca known as the “blind soldier.”
“Maybe it’s different than it seems? By the way, I’m afraid of what might happen when Park gets angered.”
Legion Etranger was full of scum from all around the world. It was a place where people of all races, religions, and ideologies gathered. There were frequent fistfights, but nothing more severe than that. But Mike’s actions were at a level where they couldn’t be tolerated. He was a racist who caused many problems even on normal days. He was the type who got more confident in front of a crowd.
Chartres sat up imdiately. “Mike, what do you think you’re doing?”
“Stay out of this, oldie.”
Chartres’ nickna, since he was over forty years old, was “oldie.” Mike’s face crumpled even more.
Bang—
He pushed Chartres’ shoulder violently.
“You’re going too far.”
“Ha!”
At Chartres’ objection, Mike snorted. His nostrils enlarged, and the hair inside dangled out.
“Damned bastard, you should be cutting your nose hairs instead of annoying .”
Chartres’ stomach began to growl, worried about his dinner.
“Too far? Are you talking about or that monkey?”
Mike lifted his right fist showing Mu Ssang, and punched his left fist against his right arm’s bicep. This was a rude gesture in France. It was the sa as holding up a middle finger. Mu Ssang’s expression creased.
“Ha, this f*cker!”
Emil was angry. Mike’s actions were over the line.
Mike turned back to his friends and asked, “Hey, Miller, what did we do?”
“We were going back to the tent until the monkey called us b*tches, and therefore we stopped.”
“Ha, there’s a b*tch here, too.” A laugh escaped from Mu Ssang.
Mike turned to stare at Chartres.
“That’s what he says.”
Mu Ssang stood. His intention of spending his ti leisurely before dinner had been erased from his mind.
“Sergeant, are you happy when I call you blackie? F*cking bastard.”
He said the last swear in Korean. His accent was lacking, but the aning was certainly delivered. Swearing was done by the innuendos of the words and not by the language itself. The gestures, expressions, and tone were what made it swearing.
Mike’s eyes turned red and his normally angered look intensified and turned his scowl even darker. He had been tried for several violent incidents because he was the type of person who lost all reasoning when angered.
Chartres’ face hardened because the sergeant was on the verge of exploding. He worried about Mu Ssang who was provoking a boar in heat. Mike would not stop just because soone advised him to.
“Monkey, take off your hat.”
“This is not the ti when I heed orders.”
At his strong words, Mike finally exploded.
“Putain, son of a b*tch!” Mike, exclaiming a mix of French and English expletives, launched forward with two arms spread wide. “Argh!” he exclaid as he fell unconscious to the ground.
Park stood still. No one saw the fist that landed squarely on Mike’s jaw. The onlookers had no idea what had happened.
“Huh. Sergeant, are you digging your own grave with your penis?”
At Chartres’ words, Emil laughed. His mouth twitched with the urge to say sothing, but the backlash of chewing out a sergeant was large. Mu Ssang glared at the soldiers who stumbled about then took off his hat.
“Red-nose, do you have a death wish?” he asked, recognizing one of the soldiers.
“Flying viper!” Red-nose shrieked as he stumbled back and thought that if this was the flying viper from the Ecole, then Sergeant Mike had definitely picked on the wrong person.
“Take him away.”
Red-nose and the other soldier helped up Mike and disappeared like lightning.
“What did you do?” Emil asked Mu Ssang.
With their trained eyes, all they had seen was Mu Ssang throwing his fist forward while avoiding Mike’s lunge.
“Monkey uppercut!”
At Mu Ssang’s simple reply, Emil choked out a laugh. He didn’t know the reason, but he felt refreshed.
“What’s the deal with ‘the flying viper’?”
“Just, sothing.”
In places where people gathered, there was always a dynamic like this: a bastard, a vain person, a nice person, and those who went with the flow.
***
The Deuxie Rep the first to be sent out when foreign intervention was needed. Unit operations are independent, but operational orders co from the 11th French Brigade. According to the command system, this battalion of the 11th Brigade was the first target to fall.
A soldier’s purpose is to kill the enemy, and he moves on command. Even if he didn’t want to kill an enemy, once ordered, he had no choice but to do so. But murder was murder no matter how it was reworded. When you kill others, you must also be prepared to die. To decrease the chance of dying, an increase in abilities is necessary.
When he was a teenager, Mu Ssang had crossed many hills of life and death. He knew the difference between the living and the dead already.
His body had exceeded human limits. What was the point of Carl Lewis running 100 ters with a lap ti of 9.7 seconds or running 100 ters in 20 seconds? He couldn’t expect any more from the Deuxie Rep’s training regin; it was simply warm-up exercises for him. He was a soldier of the second rank, he was not in a position to ask for personal training.
Mu Ssang was anxious because he didn’t know when the Deuxie Rep would be dispatched. South Korea’s military tensions against North Korea were high, but no Korean soldier thought war would occur.
Legion Etranger was different. Headquarters could dispatch them to the battlefield tomorrow. France officially had no overseas territories. Only West African countries, forr French colonies, were still under French influence. When France needed ard forces, they sent out troops from Legion Etranger. It is deployed imdiately according to strategic and tactical needs. That’s why they fed them well.
They never knew when they’d be sent to the battlefield, and bullets weren’t choosy about whom they hit. This is why Mu Ssang risked his life to learn the Five Combined Movents.
“The person most prepared survives.”
He even trained during his free ti. That was why Sergeant Mike had teased him with the na “dancing monkey.”
Corsica’s clear air and Deuxie Rep’s systematic training beca a hamr to refine his mind and body. The Five Combined Movents training beca the fire that would forge his mind and body and take it to the next level.
Monk Dae Woo had referred to Mu Ssang as Asura’s incarnation. Corsica was where Asura washed with fire, worked with a hamr, and prepared to face the world.
***
10 weeks had passed since he had moved into the Deuxie Rep when Jang Shin landed in Corsica, as promised, after completing his Ecole training. He showed excellent talent for handling explosives, so Pief had assigned him to the 3rd platoon, which dealt with firepower.
***
400 ters south of the fortress, where the Deuxie Rep trained, was a coastal cliff called Corse that was about sixty-six ters high. Beneath the cliff, the rough waves of the diterranean clashed constantly. Mu Ssang beca a part of the cliff. Two hours had passed since he began his ditation at its edge.
Crash—
The waves scattered into foam. His ditation ended, and he stood up. He began to unwind his body by expelling and taking in energy. Warmth gathered in his body.
This was a continuation of the Combined Repetitive Expelling Theory. Unlocking the 36 veins according to the paths of his lowest, highest, and middle cores took more than three hours. Pief had granted him this ti.
The Resonance that his master had talked of was slowly coming to him. Foreign energy flowed through the body, and sotis it was hot and sotis cool. ditation helped him focus that foreign energy into a specific area. Concentrated Resonance dramatically increased the destructive power of his hands and feet. It could break rocks and crush trees.
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