General Yi Beom-yun, who had once led a band of sharpshooters into Seoul and become a soldier himself, couldn't shake a sense of unease.
Watching the army grow day by day, he felt the weight of a looming uncertainty.
After all, stationed just above them was Kontrachenko—a man who had obliterated massive armies in the past. Even though Seoul maintained friendly ties with Russia, a standing army was a provocative matter.
"Did you know?" Simon said suddenly, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Those Russian soldiers? Their guns, their uniforms, even their rations—all of it was made by Jinhan."
"That was during the war. Things are different now," Yi Beom-yun countered.
"That experience ensures they won't dare touch us. Should war erupt again, Russia will need Jinhan's support."
"But what if they invade us?"
Simon's calm demeanor didn't waver. "I understand your concern. You think the Russians might forcibly occupy Seoul. But that won't happen."
"And why not?"
