March Novel (Completed) - Seasons of Fate (Oh Seonran Side Story) Part 1

A fanfare announcing a new record cheerfully echoed. The man propped his legs on the desk and rapidly tapped the tablet screen. His spotless military boots tapped along to the lively melody. The jet-black nameplate was precariously pushed to the edge of the desk in rhythm.

Colonel Oh Seonran.

Under the raw light, brightened to its maximum, the meticulously engraved name shimmered menacingly. The four characters ‘Patriotism and Loyalty’ written on the back of the nameplate were personally inscribed by the absolute ruler of this nation. Or so he was told. He had received it through his father, not directly, so he just took it at face value.

“Colonel?”

The exclusive adjutant, who had been alternating glances between his engrossed superior and his wristwatch, couldn’t bear it any longer and cautiously began to speak. He had said he would stamp the papers after just one more game, but two hours had already passed. There was a mountain of work to be done in place of the absent superiors.

“Colonel, I apologize, but…”

“You’re being quite particular.”

Oh Seonran, who had been pretending not to notice his adjutant’s presence, lightly beckoned with his hand, and the adjutant brightened and scurried over. The documents to be reviewed were neatly placed on the desk. No, even the word ‘review’ was laughable. He just had to stamp the places kindly marked by his subordinates.

“Shouldn’t I not have to do this anymore?”

Printing something on paper meant it was an agenda item they didn’t want to leave on the server, and such matters usually had a predetermined conclusion from the start. There was no need to ponder over better opinions.

“No one would know whether I stamped it or you did.”

“Colonel.”

“It’s true. No one upstairs would care who approved it.”

Oh Seonran extended his hand, not taking his eyes off the exploding fireworks on the screen. When he fumbled around the wrong spot on the desk, the adjutant, unable to watch any longer, subtly approached and handed him the stamp.

He had no complaints about the rank he was given, which was meant for stamping where told and showing his face at events to fill up the numbers. Oh Seonran had entered the military academy on those very conditions from the beginning. Not to be promoted beyond a certain rank. To put it simply, not to be pushed into positions with heavy responsibilities.

Of course, his family elders were always eager to push Oh Seonran into the core of the military. For now, he was performing at least his minimum duties, so they couldn’t find fault, but if he made even one mistake, they would immediately rush in and tell him to listen to his elders. So Oh Seonran also had the will to perform duties befitting his rank as a colonel. However, he always wondered if he had to put his heart into such bothersome and useless tasks. Should this also count as an officer’s duty?

“It’s three o’clock from there. A little more to the right, just a little…”

The adjutant meticulously guided his hand, fearing that his superior, engrossed in the game, might accidentally smudge the ink in the wrong place. Perhaps because it was a daily occurrence, his explanations were quite skilled now.

“Yes, you can stamp there.”

Oh Seonran’s fingers, holding the stamp indifferently, were excessively delicate for a soldier’s. So much so that it seemed more fitting for him to hold a pen than a sword. In fact, on the middle finger of his right hand, not where a weapon would be held, but where a pen would press, there was a callus. It was a firm mark that clearly hadn’t formed in a day or two, but over a considerable period of time.

“Wait a minute.”

Oh Seonran’s hand, which was about to stamp habitually, suddenly paused. On this document, his name was written in the ‘highest decision-maker’ box. What was this? Just in case, he rummaged through the previously processed items. Fortunately, the others were as usual.

“Why are they asking me to decide this?”

The matter of ‘disposal of experimental subjects.’ It wasn’t an entirely unfamiliar title. He definitely remembered processing similar documents before. He hadn’t looked at the contents because he had just mechanically moved his hand to the stamp box… And those documents had his name at the very end. In a position with almost no responsibility, just as he had wished.

“As you know, the Major General will be away until the day after tomorrow…”

“Ah, so that means it’s my responsibility if this goes wrong.”

Oh Seonran roughly threw the stamp and tablet down and sank into the back of his chair.

“It’s merely a formality, Colonel.”

The adjutant’s voice was urgent, perhaps worried that his superior might try to escape.

“You’ve approved several cases before, and there’s been no problem so far. You don’t need to worry too much this time either.”

There was no particular response from the young superior, who had been born into a rare and esteemed family and had been exceptionally fast-tracked in his promotion. He merely tilted his head back and let out a long sigh. The adjutant seized the opportunity and pressed the call button on his wristwatch.

“I’ll just show you the experimental subject’s face and then immediately remove them, so don’t worry. It’s nothing serious.”

As he gently coaxed, Oh Seonran snorted. It was somehow like seeing the sulky face of a young son who had an unappetizing side dish in front of him. How old did he say he was this year? He thought he had just turned thirty. The adjutant’s expression, which had been strained from watching his superior’s mood, softened for a moment.

“Oh, one thing to note is that since it’s an experimental subject just before disposal, it might be a bit unpleasant to look at.”

As the murmuring beyond the door grew louder, Oh Seonran, who had been indifferently flipping through the approval board, widened his eyes.

“What? They’re already here?”

“Yes, they’ve been waiting outside for a while.”

No, why didn’t you tell me that earlier? Then I wouldn’t have played the game. Oh Seonran’s flustered grumbling was swallowed by the sound of the heavy office door opening.

“Colonel.”

The instructor entered with precise steps, saluting. Even though it was a warm season, the cold wind from the stone walls of the underground building swept in.

“That’s enough, just report.”

“Yes. L318-37, commonly known as 37, was a subject who showed no signs of addiction to alcohol and several drugs, and was undergoing experiments utilizing this, but it has been determined that it is no longer sustainable, so we intend to dispose of him.”

Oh Seonran craned his neck. He said he only needed to confirm the face. All he could see was a giant, bear-like subordinate.

“Move. I can’t see.”

“Oh, I apologize.”

A large, pot-lid-sized hand reached down and pulled something up. What emerged, limp as waterlogged cotton, looked more like a rag than a person.

His head was bowed, hair completely spilling forward. Skin so pale it was bluish, a gaunt body. His wrist, dangling limply, was like the bare branches of an old tree on a winter’s day. Regardless of beauty or ugliness, it was quite a striking impression.

“Hmm…”

Oh Seonran scratched his chin and quickly flipped through the documents.

“But why are you disposing of him?”

“…Excuse me?”

“Why did you decide that experiments could no longer be continued on Subject 37?”

The adjutant, who had been dazed for a moment, saying “Uh-oh,” as if he hadn’t expected his superior to ask for a reason, soon collected himself and continued.

“Since the pregnancy was discovered, no experiments have been conducted, and after giving birth, it has become difficult to predict biological reactions, unlike before.”

“So you’re saying it’s not efficient to keep him around.”

“That’s correct.”

Oh Seonran finished scanning the report. Had it been three months since he was assigned here? All he did was approve documents brought by his adjutant and make appearances at events, so he knew nothing about experiments or anything else.

L318-37. Behind the classification number, which served as his name and gender, there was a barcode to check his records after admission. The drugs administered and the symptoms that followed were briefly noted, but it was all information he wouldn’t understand anyway.

“Huh?”

Oh Seonran’s hand, which was flipping through the pages, stopped with a creak at a certain point. As if he had suddenly slammed on the brakes.

“Aphasia?”

“Yes. That’s also a symptom that appeared after he gave birth.”

Oh Seonran stared at Subject 37, who was motionless like a still life, for a long time. Even with words like “disposal” being uttered right in front of him, he remained silent. He didn’t even plead for his life.

“That…”

Oh Seonran, who had been staring intently at Subject 37’s slender neck, which he couldn’t even properly hold up, collected himself at the adjutant’s clearing of his throat and continued.

“Ahem, what’s the disposal procedure?”

“The brokers who initially handed over the experimental subject are collecting him again.”

“…That’s it?”

“Yes.”

Even if he hadn’t been interested in this project, he knew that experimental subjects who had outlived their usefulness weren’t sent to hospitals or care facilities. There had to be a reason why they called it ‘disposal’ instead of discharge or retirement.

Still, he hadn’t known they would just hand them back to the brokers. ‘Brokers’ was a nice word, but weren’t they just human traffickers, thugs? It seemed more merciful to kill him painlessly now than to send him back to their den.

“…You said I have full authority over this matter, right?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll put Subject 37’s matter on hold.”

“Yes, then I’ll immediately contact the brokers… …Excuse me?”

“I’ll observe him. For a while.”

“But Subject 37 can no longer contribute to this project…”

“Even so, there’s no critical reason why he shouldn’t be kept alive.”

“That’s true, but…”

“Then leave him be.”

The adjutant merely nodded with a troubled expression.

Oh Seonran slumped into his chair, secretly wiping his sweaty palms on his thighs. It was the first time. He had given an order based on his own feelings, without calculating his family’s honor or gains and losses.

His heart pounded wildly, as if trying to make up for Subject 37’s lack of vitality. It was certainly uncharacteristic of him. He had just been annoyed, saying it wasn’t his responsibility. The family’s prestige and the duty that came with it suffocated him, making him act lighter than a feather every time. And now, of all things, he was impulsively deciding to keep someone’s life…

“Oh, if he stays here, will he still be taken care of with basic necessities? Like meals?”

“For now, yes.”

Oh Seonran simply nodded lightly. It was a silent dismissal. The instructor, who was supporting Subject 37, who couldn’t even stand properly, was more careful than before. As if he had sensed something unusual.

“Still staring at the wall.”

Oh Seonran sat next to Subject 37 and tapped his tablet aimlessly. He felt a gaze subtly land on his hand. He still didn’t look at his face, but at least he gave him a glance now. It was a huge improvement compared to the beginning when he didn’t even acknowledge his presence.

After impulsively rejecting Subject 37’s disposal, Oh Seonran visited his solitary confinement cell in the basement whenever he felt like it.

Whenever his subordinates bothered him to approve documents. Whenever his idle superiors called him to ask about his parents’ well-being. Whenever he received calls from home looking for him. When he didn’t want to work. When he was sleepy. When he was bored. When he just wanted to escape for no reason…

He was rambling on reasons that Subject 37 hadn’t even asked for, visiting here every day, but when you peeled back the wrapping, the core was the same.

“I just thought of you.”