On My First Day, Boot Camp Opened (1)
—Baekun Escort Agency , Maeyang County Branch
A small-to-medium logistics company operating in the Hubei region.
So this is where my new future begins.
"Hmm."
As I looked up at the elegantly written signboard reading Baekun Escort Agency , I suppressed the surge of emotion that came from recalling the past three years.
My life in the martial world begins now.
Mom. I'll build up my experience and transfer to a major company someday.
"You a recruit?"
"Yes, sir! I've just newly joined the agency—"
"That's enough. Fall in over there."
Why does this remind me of the 306th Replacement Battalion?
Though I'm starting at the lowly rank of a rookie escort, one day I'll shake the martial world—
No, I don't need to shake anything. I just want a stable life where I can eat well and live peacefully.
With that modest dream, I moved into formation.
"Run! Move, you slugs!"
"Faster! Faster!"
'This isn't what I had in mind.'
That thought crossed my mind as I ran around the training grounds, drenched in sweat.
The moment we were officially admitted into the agency, we signed our contracts in a flash—barely even reading them—before being thrown straight onto the training grounds to listen to Head Escort Kang's lengthy speech.
There were many details, but the main point was this:
—You will undergo one month of training and become elite escorts!
As soon as that speech—one that made me want to draft a resignation letter on the spot—ended, we were handed basic supplies and immediately began endless running.
"Physical strength is the power of the agency!" he declared.
And we weren't just running normally.
We ran in groups, and whoever fell into last place had to sprint full speed to the front.
Indian running.
Known in 21st-century South Korea as interval training, this method offers incredible time efficiency compared to other workouts.
But it has one fatal flaw.
It's brutally exhausting.
"Last place! Sprint to the front! Move!"
The instructor shouted at the top of his lungs from behind. The guy behind me dashed desperately to the front, and then—
"You're last now! Move!"
Already me?
I took one deep breath and sprinted with everything I had, seizing the lead. But only for a moment. After a few gasping breaths, I was last again.
Even with the enhanced stamina granted by two years of internal energy, my lungs felt like they were bursting.
'They're testing our basic endurance.'
I understood the reasoning. Martial arts were important for escorts, but stamina was just as critical. Escort missions were practically long-distance marches—without endurance, you were finished.
'Still… this is way too intense for the first day.'
Isn't the usual rule on your first day of work to introduce yourself, sit around like an idle old man on standby, and leave on time?
Apparently, such civilized workplace culture did not exist in this primitive martial world.
Truly unfortunate.
The hellish first day of training only ended in the evening.
When it was finally over, all my fellow recruits collapsed onto the ground, groaning.
"Hu… I'm dying."
"First day and it's already this bad…"
"I didn't sign up for military service…"
Everyone voiced complaints.
Surprisingly, not a single person dropped out. Even special forces soldiers would have stuck out their tongues at that level of training.
Looking closely, they all had faces that suggested they were no pushovers.
"Since we've met like this, why don't we introduce ourselves?"
After dinner, we gathered in the dormitory, and under my lead, decided to have an introduction session.
I didn't want to step forward in front of these rough-looking middle-aged men, but everyone seemed awkward and embarrassed, so I had no choice but to shoulder the burden.
With faces like that, don't act shy.
"My name is Seong Rajun. I came from distant Joseon. I worked as a porter before being recommended here. I look forward to working with you."
After a light round of applause, everyone began introducing themselves, each with stiff expressions.
Listening to their stories, they were all men with complicated pasts. Just as construction sites gather people with turbulent life stories, this place was no different.
Though none quite as extreme as mine.
"Like Escort Seong said, since we've met by fate, how can we not share a drink?"
A middle-aged man who introduced himself as Gwak Dusan pulled out a bottle of liquor from his robes.
From what I gathered, he was fairly well known in the Jiangnan region and even had a nickname. Among us, he was clearly the strongest.
During training, he barely even broke a sweat. In fact, his martial skills surpassed even the training escorts, and he had stepped forward to demonstrate some basic techniques for us.
Why someone like him joined an escort agency was beyond me. But judging by the way he produced that bottle, it seemed he had decided to assume the role of eldest brother.
At the sight of the liquor, everyone's eyes turned red like vampires starved for ten years.
"Brother Gwak understands righteousness and propriety, I see. Heh heh…"
"Indeed he does. Heh heh…"
"Now, now. We have training tomorrow. Just one cup each."
"Of course. Heh heh."
For the record, that "heh heh" was me.
"Khh… that burns."
"Woo… it's rising."
As soon as a mouthful of liquor went down my throat, my body—already exhausted from endless running—flared up with heat. Was this that so-called afterburning effect?
That single sip made another round, and then another. By the time the bottle had made several chugging train-like laps around us, we were already close.
"By the way, Brother Gwak, with martial arts like yours, why did you join an escort agency?"
"That's right. Please tell us."
"I was curious too."
Gwak Dusan looked at us like we were chirping baby chicks.
But we were curious.
If someone with a Seoul National University résumé shows up as your fellow new hire at a small company, wouldn't anyone be curious?
Escort agencies didn't enjoy the best reputation in the martial world. The work was considered rough and not particularly refined. True masters rarely joined escort agencies.
Why would a world-class racing driver do delivery work?
He'd compete in F1.
So naturally, when someone like him joined, we couldn't help but wonder. I leaned forward with an eager expression, and Gwak Dusan, looking embarrassed, finally answered reluctantly.
"To tell you the truth… I want to get married."
"Married…?"
"That's right. I've wandered the martial world at this age, calling myself a chivalrous hero and gaining a small reputation… but who would marry their daughter to a drifting vagabond like me?"
What is this.
Such a painfully realistic reason.
"Even someone of your caliber doesn't get marriage proposals?"
Gwak Dusan nodded heavily.
"Who would give their daughter to a wanderer carrying nothing but a sword? For men like us roaming martial artists… there's only one path left."
"What's that?"
"Love marriage!"
"No way!"
"I've passed the right age, grown older, grown a beard… I figured if this keeps up, I'll die a bachelor. So I decided I needed to settle somewhere. Then I saw Baekun Escort Agency recruiting. The moment I saw it, I thought—this is it. Being an escort is better than being a drifter."
That was sadder than expected.
A heavy silence settled over us. Looking around, everyone seemed to nod in understanding.
But one question occurred to me.
"Then… couldn't you just date someone?"
"Ahem! Let's drop that topic."
Judging by his reaction, Gwak Dusan had likely never dated in his life.
I haven't either.
If I had to summarize Baekun Escort Agency's training process in one phrase, it would be: military boot camp.
There was no difference whatsoever.
'I still have military nightmares, and now I've re-enlisted.'
For the record, military dreams are said to be flashbacks caused by post-traumatic stress disorder.
Is there no one to heal my wounds?
"Wake up! Wake up!"
Listening to the instructor escort's lion's roar, I scratched my messy hair and dragged myself up. Even if you flipped the world upside down, Ming time would still move forward. Before I knew it, this hellish training had already reached its final week.
From the last week onward, full-fledged martial arts training was scheduled. They were going to teach us Baekun Escort Agency's sword technique—something I had been most looking forward to.
"All right! Morning run, begin!"
"One! Two! Three! Four! One! Two! Three! Four!"
"We'll sing the company song during the run! The company song is 'We Go on Escort!'"
"We Go on Escort!"
"Company song, start!"
"Across high mountains and deep valleys~♪ Through the silent Central Plains~♬"
After morning running, the real martial training began.
Until now, I had only learned so-called "fake" martial arts techniques. This week, where I would finally learn proper forms, was the part I had been most excited about.
But… it wasn't quite what I expected.
"Form Three! Poison Dragon Emerges!!"
""Hyaaap!!!"""
At the shout of a senior escort acting as assistant instructor in red clothing, we immediately drew our wooden swords, twisted our bodies dramatically, and thrust upward like a snake bursting out of a cave.
They said it was a posture for piercing an enemy's throat in one stroke—but if someone dies from that, wouldn't that count as natural selection?
"Form Four! White Serpent Cleaves the Wind!!"
""Uryaap!!!"""
Again, we twisted our bodies, raising wooden swords to block and counterattack.
The technique we were practicing was the Baekun Sword Art, said to have been created by the agency's founding chief. It consisted of twelve forms.
After swinging through it repeatedly, I realized it probably wasn't entirely original. It felt like a patchwork of various commonly circulating forms in the martial world.
My first impression…
It didn't look particularly high-level.
'Is this really enough?'
I felt uneasy.
But according to Gwak Dusan, that wasn't necessarily the case.
"In martial arts, forms aren't the most important thing."
"Then what is?"
"Application."
After afternoon training ended, in a more relaxed atmosphere, I asked him what I had been thinking. Gwak Dusan kindly explained.
According to him, the individual forms themselves weren't what mattered most.
More important was combining them into structured sequences, repeating them endlessly until the martial art became ingrained in the body—then knowing how to apply them in real combat.
"And forms widely known throughout the martial world are widely known for a reason. They're foundational, orthodox techniques. They don't have extreme strengths—but they also don't have glaring weaknesses."
"So they're proven techniques."
"Exactly. Martial artists are often tempted by flashy, powerful, unconventional techniques… those are what you call unorthodox schools. But those techniques, while impressive at first, become very vulnerable against orthodox fundamentals when it comes to battles between masters."
So tricks get beaten by fundamentals.
"That's why steadily mastering these foundational forms and then expanding your applications—though it takes longer—is the proper path."
I nodded, finishing our conversation, and stepped outside the dormitory.
Looking up, I saw a thick half-moon hanging in the sky, like a plump dumpling from home.
'I miss Seoul…'
As I stood there, lost in memories while gazing at the moon, someone suddenly tapped my shoulder.
I turned around. It was one of the escort instructors.
"Gather everyone. Have them assemble at the training grounds."
What's going on?