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2-29 The Man Crossing the DMZ 2

  As the murky midnight arrives, Jun-ho and the group rise from their bunks as if by a silent pact.

  Only the faint rustle of clothing settles low in the silent barracks.

  Among the group, only Jun-ho is dressed in a tidy suit; the rest are clad in dark, digital-patterned camouflage uniforms

  in deep military green, as if to melt into the shadows.

  Six shadows emerge silently from the barracks and begin walking in a single file toward the iron fence.

  Each cautious step presses against the ground, as if trying not to let even a footfall be heard.

  Though pitch-black darkness weighs down on everything, their eyes soon adapt,

  and beyond their vision, the slender beam of a

  military lantern held by the leader guides the group like a beacon.

  After about ten minutes of climbing the steep hill with bated breath,

  the first guard post finally reveals its imposing silhouette.

  Below the post, precarious stone steps stretch downward for ten meters.

  The steps are narrow and shallow, making it easy to lose one's rhythm; every bit of focus must be concentrated on the tips of their toes.

  A thick rope hangs all the way from top to bottom, and they must hold onto it tightly to make the descent.

  Soon, they arrive in front of a gate called the 'Tongmun'—the gate that serves as the portal into the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ).

  Soldiers who enter through this gate usually infiltrate close to the Military Demarcation Line (MDL) to carry out tactical ambushes.

  Their mission is to monitor and deter any movements of the enemy that might descend from the North.

  The area inside the gate is buried with countless mines.

  No one can guarantee what might happen unless they move strictly along the designated safe path.

  Occasionally, in the dead of night, a dull explosion echoes from the distance.

  It is the sound of a mine detonating.

  Animals like wild boars or roe deer, wandering through the darkness, step on them.

  That explosion pierces through the still night air, echoing in an eerie, ghostly manner.

  The veteran soldier at the front tucks the lantern into his pack. Instead,

  he lowers his night-vision goggles to scan the darkness.

  Within the faint green glow of his vision, he moves his feet with calculated precision, guiding the rest of the group.

  Jun-ho’s eyes, too, are gradually acclimating to the dark.

  The cold night air seeps deep into his lungs. Strangely, the air feels remarkably fresh.

  Then, suddenly, the realization that he is currently walking inside the DMZ wells up from deep within his chest like a peculiar sense of exhilaration.

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  Everyone moves along the narrow path with bated breath.

  Parting the brush with care, they advance silently toward the Military Demarcation Line. Every breath is held tight;

  only thin wisps of respiration are scattered into the air.

  Jun-ho knows that a silver sphere is floating silently in the air, following him.

  None of the others saw it, except for Jun-ho.

  The silver sphere was moving through the darkness, emitting neither sound nor light. To everyone else, it was entirely invisible.

  The sphere was constantly scanning the surroundings detecting the minute stirrings within the thickets,

  the living creatures hiding in the dark, and even the mines that might be buried beneath their feet.

  It analyzed all this data and transmitted it directly to Jun-ho’s brain.

  As if a new sense had awakened within him, the layout of their environment was sketched in faint outlines inside Jun-ho’s

  mind. So far, there were no anomalies.

  They continued to advance toward the Military Demarcation Line, quietly and safely.

  By now, they were far enough away from the iron fence of the 'Tongmun' gate.

  They had finally arrived near the Military Demarcation Line that divides the North and South within the DMZ.

  The lead soldier signaled with a gesture of his hand.

  It was a command to crouch in place. Following the hand signal, everyone froze instantly and lowered themselves into a silent squat.

  Jun-ho’s eyes had completely adapted to the darkness, allowing him to perceive every detail of his surroundings.

  The DMZ was a place entirely severed from civilization.

  It was a land where animals, plants, and nature breathed freely, untouched by any interference.

  The forest, undisturbed by human hands, was deep and hushed.

  Each time a breeze drifted by, the blades of grass brushed against one another, creating a sound like a low whisper.

  They wait for the people from the North Korean side near the Military Demarcation Line.

  In the middle of the path where Jun-ho and his party have stopped, both sides are minefields.

  Triangular red metal signs, marking the presence of mines, hang along the stretched wire.

  Tududeuk... tuk-tuk...

  A sound drifted from the minefield. It was coming from a place where no sound should ever be heard.

  Jun-ho and his party reacted instinctively to the sound coming from behind, everyone turning their heads in unison.

  The silver sphere transmitted an image directly into Jun-ho’s brain.

  It was a sound judgment from the sphere:

  a sounder of wild boars—a mother and several piglets.

  Wild boars thrive in the DMZ; with no natural predators, they sit at the very top of the food chain.

  If the herd in the minefield were to accidentally trip a mine or charge toward the group in a panic,

  their position would be exposed to both North and South Korean forces.

  It would be a total disaster.

  Jun-ho made a split-second decision.

  He commanded the invisible silver sphere to drive the herd away in a different direction using a powerful sonic pulse.

  Meanwhile, the party members held their breath, exchanging anxious glances.

  Their insides burned with the terrifying worry that the boars might turn their way.

  It was then.

  The boars, which had been rustling through the thickets, suddenly pivoted and began to bolt in the opposite direction.

  The sound of them violently thrashing through the brush continued for a moment before fading into the distance.

  "Phew..."

  Relieved sighs escaped quietly from the men here and there.

  It was at that very moment.

  From beyond the Military Demarcation Line, in the darkness of the North, a human voice drifted over. It was a low, grounded voice.

  "Guests. We have come to greet our comrades."

  The party looked in that direction simultaneously.

  After a brief silence, the NIS (National Intelligence Service) agent was the first to rise. He walked slowly forward,

  approaching a figure standing in the shadows beyond the fence who appeared to be a North Korean operative.

  Standing close to each other, the two began to exchange quiet words in hushed tones.

  "Vice Minister... please step forward. It is time for you to cross into the North."

  It was the agent's voice calling for Jun-ho.

  "Yes," Jun-ho replied, standing up and approaching the North Korean operative.

  "Vice Minister... this is as far as I escort you.

  I pray that we meet again safely right here at this spot,"

  the NIS agent said calmly.

  "Of course. Don't worry. I will be back soon. Well then..." Jun-ho responded in a serene voice.

  Jun-ho began to move toward the North Korean fence, accompanied by several North Korean soldiers.

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