Veteran Streamer in a Reversed World

“It’s a mess.”
Hearing the voice of my comrade, Jane, from beside me, I could only nod in agreement.
What lay before me was a scene of brutal massacre.
In what appeared to have originally been a junkyard for collecting scrap metal, over 100 people, by rough estimate, were lying fallen.
Bodies piled up like mountains in front of the entrance to the open space, covered in blood.
There were traces of struggles to survive, but no signs of physical resistance at all.
It was clear that the rebels had unilaterally massacred civilians who were not friendly to them.
“Check for survivors.”
“Understood.”
At my instruction, Jane nodded and led the other members towards the pile of bodies.
I take a moment to catch my breath and look around.
The figure of a child lying face down on the ground caught my eye.
A child whose face was completely split open from forehead to crown, spilling white skull fragments and yellowish brain pieces onto the ground.
Flies that had come from somewhere were going in and out of the child’s head, which was wide open on both sides.
I turned my head away as I saw a plump maggot crawling out of the child’s left ear.
“…We have to kill them all.”
I muttered blankly.
“The bastards who committed such fucked up acts…”
“…We have to kill them all.”
Covering my face with my arm against the streetlight seeping through the window, I murmured quietly.
“Whew…”
I take a deep breath calmly.
The image of the child wavering before my eyes gradually fades away.
I’m fine.
I’m fine.
I’m fine.
I calm my tense body while self-hypnotizing.
The child’s image completely disappears from my sight, and my blurry vision starts to clear.
I turned my head briefly to look at the clock on the wall.
11:20.
Feeling the unpleasant sensation of my back soaked in cold sweat, I looked around.
Unremarkable gray wallpaper.
An old fluorescent light hanging from the ceiling.
Boxes scattered haphazardly.
The stuffy smell unique to semi-basement rooms.
This is my home.
More precisely, it was my new nest that I had moved into yesterday.
.
.
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.
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“I’m leaving work first. Thanks for your hard work.”
“Yes, take care on your way home.”
Ding-
As the store owner went out, Lee Ji-yul, the part-timer left alone in the convenience store, sighed.
Now she had to guard the convenience store until her shift ended, dealing with all sorts of troublesome customers.
What kind of convenience store villains would appear today?
Ji-yul already felt her chest tightening.
Ji-yul looked out the window with a gloomy face.
A single streetlight was lighting up the street where darkness had settled.
‘I wish I could meet a handsome male customer just once.’
The reason she had such thoughts was largely due to the influence of her friends.
Her friends, who also worked part-time at convenience stores, would brag about it every time they met at school.
That they saw some guy while working yesterday, that he was handsome, that they got his number…
Yesterday, she heard that one of her friends actually became lovers with a male customer she met while working the night shift.
It was like a dream story for her, who had never dated even once while going through the tech tree of all-girls middle and high schools.
It wasn’t that her appearance was lacking compared to others.
Rather, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say she was superior to others.
Clear skin without a single blemish and a not-so-small height of 178cm.
A face that gives an overall cute impression and a voluminous chest.
A body that could pull off any outfit.
The reason she couldn’t date was purely because she lacked confidence.
So Ji-yul was once again soothing her endless loneliness while guarding the convenience store today.
She repeatedly calculates items for customers who occasionally visit the convenience store, then zones out at the counter.
When a drunk appears, she somehow coaxes them out, and as she deals with middle-aged women who suddenly speak informally to her, Ji-yul’s mind was becoming increasingly worn out.
Ding-
“Welcome.”
Ji-yul mechanically called out at the sound of the entrance bell ringing again.
What kind of customer would it be this time?
Please, just don’t be a troublemaker.
As she prayed inwardly and raised her head, Ji-yul’s eyes met the man’s.
“…Ah?”
The clothes the man was wearing were far from ordinary.

A plain black cap and a mask covering his face.
A black jacket and pants with knee pads.
An unidentifiable thick vest visible through the slightly open jacket.
The man’s appearance, even wearing leather finger gloves, seemed like something out of a game or movie.
But what caught her eye most was his hair and eyes.
‘Were there really people with white hair and red eyes?’
White hair peeking out from under the cap.
Red eyes faintly glowing.
All sorts of thoughts began to swirl in Ji-yul’s mind.
‘Is the hair dyed? Are those color contacts? But it looks so natural. Maybe an albino? But he looks handsome even with the mask on. And his body is so good…’
A height similar to hers, who was considered quite tall.
Broad shoulders, perhaps from working out.
Although he was wearing a mask, for some reason Ji-yul felt like she could see the man’s bare face.
Ji-yul suddenly realized that she had been staring at the man for a long time.
When her gaze met the man’s red eyes looking at her, she felt her face burning.
Hurriedly turning her gaze down to under the counter, she cautiously watched the man’s reaction.
It would be quite troublesome if he was offended by her stare.
However, fortunately, the man simply nodded his head in greeting to Ji-yul without saying anything and disappeared beyond the display shelves.
Ji-yul stared blankly at where the man had disappeared for a long time.
‘Is this a green light?’
Lee Ji-yul’s happiness circuit slowly began to operate.
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I came to the convenience store just to buy some beer, but the part-timer is staring at my face too intently.
Have I ever been exposed to Korean media?
That can’t be.
The only journalist I met in Solomon during the past 3 years was May.
She reported on the progress of the war, the absurdity of the rebels, and Jibro’s war crimes, not individual soldiers.
Is it because my outfit is strange?
Korea is a country where firearms are prohibited, but I still felt uneasy about going out completely defenseless, so I came with minimal armament.
I wore knee pads with the night activity pants issued in Solomon, and a stab-proof vest I bought before entering Korea.
It can protect my body unless the opponent makes a full-swing attack with all their might while holding a knife.
On my hands, I wore Sap gloves with heavy metal balls inside.
If you hit someone’s face with this once, they’ll be sent straight to Valhalla.
Actually, I did bring a kitchen knife.
I hid it in the inside pocket of the jacket I wore over the stab-proof vest.
This is literally the final weapon to be used only in the worst moments.
In Solomon, it didn’t matter how many people I killed, but it’s different in Korea.
I carefully raised my head to look at the security mirror attached to the corner of the ceiling.
I saw the part-timer hurriedly fixing her makeup with seemingly nervous gestures.
Why on earth is she doing that?
Is my outfit really that strange?
Thinking it would only give me a headache if I pondered further, I gave up on understanding her behavior.
Let’s just quickly grab some beer and leave.
I quickly scanned the labels of beer cans displayed in the refrigerator.
Three years certainly seems to have been a long time.
Somehow, all I could see were unfamiliar brands.
The beer Frida brought when we were on the battlefield was really the best.
Actually, it’s all because of Frida that I started drinking beer.
I was curious about what taste made her drink so much, so I took a sip and got hooked.
German beer is indeed the best.
The English beer May gave me was pretty good too, but for some reason, it messed with my mind after drinking, so I never touched it again.
Sadly, this convenience store didn’t seem to have the German beer I drank from Frida.
Let’s just pick anything.
“Yap.”
I just grabbed a yellow beer can in front of me and headed to the counter.
The part-timer was still intently examining her face in a mirror.
It was quite a fresh sight as I had never seen anyone grooming themselves on the battlefield.
Tak-!
“Eck.”
As I put the beer can on the counter, the part-timer made some awkward sound and hurriedly put away the mirror.
I didn’t notice well when I saw her at the entrance, but seeing her up close, she’s quite a beauty.
Brown hair tied back in a ponytail.
An overall comfortable impression that gives a cute feeling.
What caught my attention most were her innocent eyes.
There’s an eye that anyone who has rolled around on the battlefield for more than a year sees at least once.
That eye with pupils fully contracted and red blood vessels popping out in the white part.
The fear of death and the guilt of murder.
The noise of the battlefield and the silence of massacre sites.
When all those things weigh down on me, press me, and choke me.
Our pupils stare into emptiness.
Where nothing exists and nothing happens.
The black abyss.
Those eyes are called ‘The thousand-yard stare’.
The eyes of the woman in front of me, scanning the barcode of the beer can with a blushed face, were clean.
Evidence that she had been living in a different world from me.
While someone is committing the worst things humans can do in a hell where life and death are decided in an instant, a person on the opposite side of the earth can think about what to eat for dinner tonight, what to do tomorrow.
Does this woman know how blessed that is?
“That’ll be 3,900 won!”
At the part-timer’s words, I took out my wallet from my night activity pants pocket and pulled out cash.
Three blue bills, one 500 won coin, four 100 won coins.
It’s been a while since I’ve handled Korean won, so it’s not familiar.
“Here…”
After double-checking if I had taken out the right amount, I looked at the part-timer standing at the counter.
…Her hand was reaching under the counter.
Tup-
“Ugh?!”
I grabbed and stopped her before she could extend her arm under the counter.
What does she have hidden under the counter?
A pistol?
A shotgun?
Or maybe an axe?
“Um, customer…? Why are you suddenly doing this…?”
The unidentified threat in front of me spoke with a trembling voice.
A reddish flush had bloomed on her cheeks.
That’s all part of the act too.
She just needs to scan the barcode, take the money, and finish, but she deliberately reached down to the counter where I can’t see what’s there.
It means something is hidden.
With my arm raised to chest height so I could immediately throw a punch to her face, I asked her:
“Can I check inside the counter for a moment?”
“Wh-what?”
“I asked if it’s okay to check inside the counter.”
“Wh-what are you suddenly talking about…?”
Kwang-!
“…!”
Annoyed at the woman’s attitude making me repeat the same thing, I roughly pushed the beer can to the side of the counter.
The woman flinched at the loud noise, but I didn’t pay attention.
Without hesitation, I grabbed the counter entrance door, and the woman urgently shouted.
“Huh? You can’t come in here…!”
Clank-
I kicked the door open and looked inside.
Plastic bags, a storage box with cigarettes, a blue plastic chair, a smartphone, a trash can.
“…”
Is this it?
Why?
Why are there no guns, knives, nothing?
“Um… could you please let go of my arm now? Customers aren’t allowed behind the counter.”
I turned my head with difficulty at the voice coming from beside me.
The woman, now holding a cellphone in her hand, was looking at me with an awkward smile.
Tuk-
I immediately released the woman’s arm that I had been gripping tightly.
I must have finally gone crazy.
This is Korea.
This is Korea.
This isn’t a battlefield.
There’s no such thing as a friendly civilian suddenly turning and attacking me with a knife.
She could just be taking out her cellphone from under the counter.
That’s right.
But.
I can’t help it.
What can I do when my body reacts first?
“…I’m sorry. I seem to have misunderstood something.”
“Pardon?”
Since I caused trouble, I need to clean it up.
I trudged out of the counter and picked up the money I had dropped on the floor, placing it back on the counter.
The woman was looking at me with a dumbfounded expression.
“I’m really sorry.”
Bow-
“Huh? Huh?”
I apologized to her, bowing at the waist as she was flustered.
It was a miracle that I wasn’t treated like a crazy person after suddenly grabbing someone’s arm and barging into the counter area as a customer.
The woman was genuinely confused, repeatedly muttering things like “What should I do, what should I do?”
Should I give her a tip?
Do they give tips in Korea too?
While I was pondering for a moment, suddenly the woman cleared her throat and spoke to me.
“Ahem… Um, then as compensation for entering the counter without permission…”
“Yes?”
She took a deep breath for a moment and then held out her smartphone to me.
“Could you give me your number?”
“Number?”
“Your phone number.”
Is she going to sue me later?
I’m screwed.