Free Web NovelA rope lay before me.
Thick as my forearm, like the kind you’d use to moor a ship at the harbor.
Whoosh—
Warm summer wind sent sand dancing across the drill ground.
My eyes stung with grit. Was it sand—or was it this rope stretching up before me?
“How do you feel, recruit?”
“.......”
“Doesn’t it look like fun? This perk is for outstanding recruits like No. 8 only.”
“Th-thank you.”
The operators beamed with pride.
“Aren’t you all jealous?”
“Very jealous!”
The cast answered loudly, happy it wasn’t their turn. While the cameras filmed me, I estimated the height.
About seven meters.
It felt like a three-story building. How on earth was I supposed to climb that?
Sergeant Go scratched his nose.
“Who wants to demonstrate? Jeong-a? Or Kyung-jun?”
“I will.”
Corporal Park Kyung-jun, wearing a jungle hat, stepped forward. Grabbing the rope, he called the others to watch.
“It looks hard, but it isn’t. Anyone can do it once you learn the trick.”
He placed his right foot above the rope, his left foot below it, then stepped up like on rungs: right foot up, left foot rocks for support. He reached halfway in exactly three seconds.
“Wow...!”
Everyone gasped. Park Kyung-jun smiled as he slid back down and turned to me.
“How about you? Think you can do it?”
“Yes!”
“Need another demo?”
“This is enough.”
He grinned, as if he’d expected exactly that. Officer Lee Jeong-a approached, offering me the gloves used by the task force.
“Swap out those PT gloves for these.”
“Thank you.”
I peeled off my cotton gloves and pulled on the tactical ones—far more comfortable, though they felt ominous, like signing some pact: “From today, you’re one of us.”
From behind, I heard whispers.
“He only watched once—do you think he’ll manage?”
“Did you see how he did it? You put one foot above, one below... Right?”
“Shh—he’s going.”
Swallowing, I gripped the rope, replaying the movement in my mind. I lifted my right foot above the rope, braced, and...
Up I went—
“Oh?”
It worked. Easier than I’d imagined. I pulled myself up hand over hand, and the crowd murmured “ooh” each time I advanced. In no time, I was at the seven-meter summit—and even the awed gasps faded.
“Wow...”
The air was different up there. Instead of the stifling heat, a cool breeze wiped sweat from my face. The sky was a clear, piercing blue. I paused to admire the task force’s base, then followed the instructor’s command to descend quickly.
“Your posture on the way down was perfect, too. Well done.”
“Thank you!”
“All right—applause for recruit No. 8, who climbed all the way up!”
“Woooah!”
The solemn operator turned to me.
“How was it? Fun?”
“Yes! Very fun!”
“Exactly why we don’t just let anyone do it.”
Together, the operator and I invited the cast to try. As curiosity spread, the sergeant’s dark face cracked a smile.
“Would you recruits like to try?”
“Yes!”
“Well, this is bad... I was only going to let No. 8 go up— but I’ll make an exception and take volunteers.”
Everyone shot their hands skyward. Scanning the faces, the sergeant chose.
“I’d like to see No. 9 try.”
“Excellent. No. 9!”
Junghyun rose with a delighted grin. He strode to the rope, froze mid-step, and made an “ah” face.
I whispered, “You still don’t get it, do you?”
“No, not really.”
He wanted to try but hadn’t fully grasped the technique. The sergeant interrupted.
“Just give it a go. I’ll correct your posture afterward.”
“Got it!”
Junghyun, gloved, gripped the rope and stretched both arms overhead, pulling...
The operator shook his head.
“That’s the worst possible posture. If you try to brute-force up with your arms alone, you’ll fall fast. Watch.”
“Kyung-jun?”
“Yes?”
Sergeant Go pointed somewhere.
“He’s climbing.”
“Eh?”
Shshsh
“...?”
“...?”
Junghyun seized the rope in rapid taps—shshsh—and ascended. Faster than I had.
“How did he do that?”
The operator who’d just criticized the form cleared his throat.
“In his case, we must call it an exception—he’s climbing purely by arm strength... No, how did he do it?”
Through his sunglasses I read his shock. I alone smiled: “My guy’s strong, right?” The cast and crew stood agape.
“Is that even possible?”
“He’s faster than a roach on a wall!”
“And with no finesse like Uju—just raw power.”
Even the operators whispered among themselves, astonished.
Shurrrk!
Junghyun slid down like Tarzan. I half-expected jungle animals to howl, “All hail the king of the forest!” I almost composed fitting theme music in my head when—
“Recruit, come here.”
“No—you come. Don’t move.”
The task force men clutched at Junghyun’s arms like scientists discovering a new species.
“But he’s so skinny...”
“How can that body generate such strength? Impossible.”
“He’s got good bone structure—but how? He shouldn’t do it with this muscle mass.”
They clamored over how a lean idol could have such power. A mystery I’d long wondered about myself.
“Recruit.”
Sergeant Go placed a hand on Junghyun’s shoulder.
“Recruit No. 9, Kim Junghyun.”
“You’re to go to the hospital for a full checkup.”
“...A hospital?”
Junghyun’s pupils dilated in alarm.
“D-do we have a serious problem?”
He looked at them wide-eyed. The operators stifled laughter.
They only meant to check if his muscle fibers were exceptional.
“If your muscle quality is truly that superior, you should be an athlete...”
“The sports world has lost a talent.”
They shook their heads, regretfully admiring Junghyun’s physique.
“Thanks,” he said, smiling.
He padded back to me and flopped down beside me.
“Fun?”
“Yes. I want to do it again.”
His genuine joy made me smile. I swear, the show gods bless that boy. One rope climb nets so much airtime.
“Any other volunteers?”
One after another, success bred courage—Cho So-hyeong even raised his hand, pale and sweating.
“No. 7, step forward.”
“Yes!”
“Good build. Well-defined muscles.”
“Thank you!”
Han-jo stepped up calmly.
“All right, recruit—climb.”
He gripped and mounted the rope. Having watched closely, his form was pretty accurate.
“Hold that position.”
“...?”
“Now I’ll demonstrate key points.”
The sergeant guided Han-jo’s body, explaining posture. I fought not to laugh: Han-jo, frozen on the rope, trembled with each passing second.
“All right, recruit! Now climb up!”
“Go!”
With a hearty shout, Han-jo began to ascend...
thud-thud-thud.
“...?”
pop.
Han-jo landed on the ground. He blinked; the crowd erupted in laughter. Flustered, he’d climbed swiftly, then slid down like water trickling down a straw.
As everyone roared at his “balloon muscles,” the operators muttered:
“So inefficient.”
“Next time, hands off back-up ropes.”
Their grumbles only made the laughter louder.
“No. 7.”
“Yes?”
“Good work. Return to formation.”
“I can....”
“Next volunteer!”
Han-jo wept silently as he returned. Cleared his throat at me:
“At least we got TV time.”
But before he finished, the cast launched into true variety-show antics.
“Waaaah!”
“The rope’s so slippery!”
“It’s rigged!”
To think we could be this funny with our bodies—true professionals. Only A-rank soldier Ho-beom scaled to the top; the rest of us didn’t even get halfway. Poor So-hyeong, with both low stamina and acrophobia, tortured the instructors. freeωebnovēl.c૦m
“I can’t come down!”
“Are you kidding? Why can’t you descend?”
“I don’t know! What do I do?!”
In panic-speech, he even slipped into casual tone, making the operators hold their foreheads.
“Why fear three meters?”
“I dunno! I’m scared!”
Only when Junghyun and I promised to catch him did he shimmy down, trembling, then we began our laps around the drill ground under the sergeants’ stern gazes. Han-jo gazed blankly.
“...He’ll be edited out, right?”
“It’s fine. You can do it.”
Junghyun and I reassured him that worse humiliation awaited later.
Lunchtime.
“Food’s here!”
“Rice!”
“Thank you—I’ll enjoy it!”
The cast, gathered in the dining hall, wore the happiest expressions. Kimchi fried rice topped with golden fried eggs. Hard training aside, it was objectively delicious.
“So good.”
“Worked so hard this morning—the rice just slides down.”
“This is the taste of society you never get in the army.”
Warm camaraderie. Even the operators, feeling kinship with those who’d rolled together, looked on fondly. Pil-seung, our gentle eldest, smiled.
“Junghyun, good?”
“He’s, uh—ha-ha. So happy.”
My translation made the cast laugh, then they turned the conversation to us.
“Uju, you were amazing. How do you do everything so well?”
“Are you really in the admin corps? Your PT demo, your rope climb—it made me think it was easy.”
“It’s deceptively hard.”
“Seriously—Junghyun, how did you do it?”
“Let’s take him for a checkup after the shoot. I’m so curious how an idol’s body yields that strength.”
Members interested in Junghyun called to PD Do.
“PD Do!”
“Yes?”
“After this, {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} take Junghyun for tests.”
“Consider it done.”
Junghyun frowned, “I’m afraid of hospitals.” Meanwhile, the cast teased Han-jo about his earlier fiasco. Then we were handed the afternoon schedule.
“They even give us black fatigues tonight.”
“Black fatigues?”
“You know, those faded black uniforms the task force wears. They’ll fit us to size.”
“Whoa...”
Every man’s face lit up—at last, the clothes we’d only seen in shooting games or action dramas. Just as excitement peaked, Ho-beom peered at the schedule.
“See the rappelling training this afternoon?”
“Oh....”
“Geez, talk about a buzzkill.”
We all groaned as we looked: back-to-back tough sessions. Then, as if sharing a single thought, everyone glanced at me. One by one, spoons paused over egg soup.
“Why the look?”
“You’ve got it rough, Uju.”
“Me?”
They nodded.
“I saw those operators drooling over you. They said ‘No. 8 only’ so many times, my ears are ringing.”
“‘No. 8, No. 8’—repetition until I was numb.”
“Hang in there, Uju.”
I laughed and shook my head.
“No, they just like me a lot—it’s nothing to worry about.”
I answered when suddenly, across the table, everyone fell silent as the operators approached. Removing their sunglasses and scarves, their lean builds and tanned skin gave way to gentle, clear faces.
“Please sit.”
At Sergeant Go’s invitation, we all sat.
“How’s the meal?”
“Excellent!”
“This is the tastiest mess hall in all of Incheon, hahaha!”
We shared warm laughter.
“Saw the rappelling this afternoon?”
“Yes!”
“Be careful to avoid injuries. Anyone with acrophobia—like recruit So-hyeong—feel free to lower your hands. You did fine earlier.”
“Understood....”
“Everyone else, carry on as if nothing’s wrong. And No. 8?”
“Yes?”
Sergeant Go patted my shoulder with his thick hand.
“See you later. We’ll teach you even more fun things.”
“....”
“There’s a lot to learn.”
The other operators smiled approval, then moved off to receive their trays.
“....”
My reflection in the egg soup looked so forlorn. The cast, pitying me, began passing me their yogurt cartons.
“Here—have this.”
“Thank you....”
Watching, Junghyun offered his too.
“Hyung.”
“Thanks, Junghyun.”
“Uh...?”
“...?”
Our eyes met in midair.
“Wasn’t this for you?”
“Oh—I’d clipped my nails too short, so I asked him to open it for me.”
“....”
As everyone burst out laughing, Han-jo on my left held out his yogurt.
“Here.”
“Thanks. Of course from Han-jo....”
“Open mine too?”
“....”
Han-jo smiled mischievously. I closed my eyes, and the camera director and cast nearby chuckled.
TBC “Men on the Go – Police Special Task Force Episode 1”
After lunch, the cast moves to the rappelling training area.
A building beside the parade ground comes into view. The cast crouches; an instructor begins.
Instructor (VO): Rappelling is training to descend walls or rock faces using a single rope.
Clips show rappelling from helicopters, inserting via apartment façades under fire. The narration explains it’s essential for hostage rescues or fires. The cast nods.
Instructor (on location): All right—observe the instructor’s demo.
Officer Lee Jeong-a, atop the roof, cries “Down!” and leaps. She descends in perfect form, and we applaud. Cut to the cast’s troubled faces: “We have to do that?”
Interview with Min Tae-won, calm head:
Min: I always say everything’s mind over matter. When it comes to rappelling, that’s an exception.
Writer: (laughs)
Flashbacks to the army episode: Pil-seung says, “It was terrifying. Except for Ho-beom, everyone fears rappel. It’s fifteen meters—people without acrophobia still shake.”
Writer: I heard heights are humans’ greatest fear.
Pil-seung: Yes. So I worried about rappelling—luckily...
He smiles warmly.
Pil-seung: We had recruit Sun Woo-ju.
Back to footage: The cast screams as they rappel down a four-story building. Some earn praise; others are scolded for bad form. But one person steals every instructor’s attention.
“Number 8!”
“Recruit No. 8—over here!”
“Number 8!”
Edited clips show task force members calling me again and again. Every time I rappel, my form is flawless. Before jumping, I plead, “Help!” but the instant I leap, posture perfects. Each descent twitches the operators’ mouths under their sunglasses.
Sergeant Go’s voice overlays:
Go (VO): Though he never let on, our Uju is an honorary member of Tactical Team 1.
PD: Honorary member?
Go: His form was so lovely. First time he’d ever done it, even back when I was in special forces, I couldn’t do it that well at first.
PD: Incredible.
Go: Right? So I got excited and taught him more and more. Haha!
Then images of my agony: though the operators dote on me, each new move tortures me. My body re-lives the pain of both start and finish of every rappel. At the end, they show me descending upside-down like Spider-Man—and everyone gasps.
Interview, me in black gear, smiling with moist eyes:
Uju: Did it hurt?
Uju (VO): No, it was wonderful. They wanted to teach me more, so when will I ever get an experience like this? Haha...
Later, netizens ran my expression through analyzers and found it 99% sadness—a pitiful smile.
Uju (VO): It also gave me a chance to reflect on myself.
Writer: Reflect?
During a short break in rappelling training:
“Well done.”
“Uju, you’ve done well.”
“Oh, my heart aches—though I did get a good rest...”
They saw me laughing through it all. Still, I thanked them for massaging my shoulders.
“Ugh...”
I lay on the sand, watching the sunset sky—same sky as yesterday, yet so different. I longed to hear my grandmother’s and siblings’ voices.
“Ugh, I’m going to die...”
It wasn’t the physical strain—it was how much attention I drew.
“No. 8! One more!”
“Just one more!”
“So good! Yes!”
Like a new club member welcomed after years, they celebrated every little success—and I suffered.
“Are you okay?”
In silhouette, his calm face looked dark. Han-jo peered down, worried.
“You look exhausted.”
“Don’t think the backlight hides my smile.”
“You got me.”
Han-jo chuckled and helped me up. Junghyun, nearby carrying gear, approached and brushed sand from my uniform. While the crew prepared for night filming, the three of us trudged to the restroom.
“This is torture.”
I whispered, venting.
“I felt like I’d die—but they just laughed and said, ‘Isn’t it fun?’ When I thought we’d done enough, they said, ‘We’re just getting started.’ Even concert encores aren’t like this.”
“.......”
“Why are you two staring at me like that?”
They exchanged “hmm” looks.
“You think he doesn’t get it?”
“Looks that way.”
“Is this karma?”
“Forcing someone to the brink to learn a lesson—true empathy, right?”
“Isn’t that empathy—putting yourself in someone else’s shoes?”
“No, it’s anagram, not empathy—Jiho told me that.”
I stepped in.
“What am I missing?”
“Nothing.”
They mumbled. When I pressed, they nudged me to hurry to the bathroom. At the sink, I turned the tap and faced my reflection: a face aged overnight.
“Ha-ha-ha-ha.”
Tears blurred my vision. “You’ve worked so hard today, Uju,” I told myself. Then—
Wait.
“...Huh?”
Something felt off. I wiped the mirror. There stared back my haggard face—so familiar. Drooped shoulders, dark under-eyes, lips pale as if drowned...
Suddenly I recognized it.
‘...Composer Na Sang-yun?’
No.
More familiar, older faces flickered behind the mirror’s surface.
‘A&R team?!’
Every time I’d worked in the studio, I’d seen A&R staff appear on my laptop with that exact look. Drowsing off, then fixing me with this expression: “Uju, are you done yet?”
I’d always thought, “They must be exhausted,” since they were office workers. But...
“...!”
As the tsunami of revelation washed over me, another face overlapped behind the A&R team in my reflection—a handsome man with a Go Gil-dong–like expression.
‘...Director Jo?’
It was the look he wore when we stayed at his house this January. It was etched on my face now.
‘What the—?’
...Was I the Dooly Director Jo always talked about?
Frozen before the mirror, stunned by the revelation, I heard Junghyun snort from behind me.
