Reincarnated as an Imperial Prince

It was six o'clock in the evening at Choson Peninsula. In the city of Kaesong, rows of Polkan Jeeps were grumbling as they traverse the rutted road, transporting troops who will be invading Hanseong in the next nine hours.

Helicopters flew above the city, their whirring sound was strange enough to freak out the Chosonese present in the city.

They looked at it in awe and at the same time with fear. They've never seen anything like that in their life, their jeeps, tanks, and armored personnel carriers were all straight out of fantasy.

They watched as the Ruthenian soldiers marched along the streets, their weapons hung on their shoulders and their eyes held an aura of dominance and confidence.

"They are Ruthenians soldiers..." one of the Chosonese elderly spoke. "They are at war with the Yamato Empire and are pushing to the south where our capital is."

"What's going to happen to us? Are they going to free us from the Yamatos?" the young Chosonese asked loudly, trying to make his voice heard as it was being muffled by the orchestrated march of the Ruthenian Army.

The elderly man shook his head. "We don't know. Our future is uncertain. The Ruthenians could either do that or replace Yamato as Choson's new master. Whatever the choice may be, we the people of Choson can only do what we are told."

Listening to the elderly man's voice, the man somberly looked down in shame. So his country is going to be controlled again by foreigners, a puppet. How could the future of the Choson be so bleak? This is the fault of the government, which sold their homeland piece by piece to the foreigners. It was news that swept the Choson lands, the ministers of the King himself signed a treaty with the Yamato Empire, making them a protectorate. They were given lands and titles, effectively betraying the Chosonese people. King Gojong was forced to step down and his son succeeded him. He became a puppet of the Yamato who acts for the best interest, not for the people.

All of this is enough to make his heart ache but there is nothing he can do about this. To think that his own countrymen will be the one to destroy his country, not the foreigners, make him sick.

Fortunately, the Choson Empire has its army, hiding from plain sight. The Righteous Army. They may be unequipped and outnumbered but their spirits and determination to make their country free from foreign shackles inspire him to the point that if he finds them, he will join them.

Of course, they are taking useful people, so just in case he got recruited into their ranks, he sneaked into Hanseong and mapped every small garrison where the Yamato soldiers stayed. He draws it on the paper which is on him at the moment.

Now, the Ruthenia Empire seems to be winning the war, the question of them being their new master is uncertain but he hated the Yamato. After all, the Yamato soldiers killed his mother in front of him for fun,  kidnapped his sister, and beat him severely. If he can exact his revenge by helping the Ruthenians, then he would gladly do so. And should the Ruthenians make his country their new colony, well, he hadn't thought of that far yet.

"Okay, that's enough sightseeing boy," the elderly man said to him with a pat on the shoulder. "We have to get in the line for the Ruthenians to process us."

"Process us?" the young man looked at him. "Why?"

"Because, they don't want a Yamato hiding among us, they have to make sure that we are a Chosonese civilian, not a combatant who deserted and disguised himself as common folk."

The elderly man had a point so he followed him to a block not far from the main street. The place was crowded with Chosonese lining up for processing. The young man was able to see the end of the line, it was a tent that didn't exist hours ago. How were the Ruthenians able to build such a massive tent so fast? Also, the place is bright with lights being emitted from a strange-looking cart. Unbeknownst to him, it was a piece of military utility equipment called a military light cart.

He lined up with the elderly man in front of him. He can hear the gunshots from afar. The Ruthenians must've found the hiding Yamato soldiers. He wished that it will be the case.

Forty-five minutes later, it was now his turn. He entered a brightly lit tent with two military women sitting behind a desk, tapping their fingers on a set of buttons while facing what seemed to be a television. They noticed his arrival and were asked to come forward, to which he gladly did so.

"What's your name?" Surprisingly, the woman spoke Chosonese.

"My name is Lee Hak-Joo."

"How old are you?"

"I'm fourteen."

"Where do you live?"

"I live in this city, Kaesong."

"Do you have any parents, or siblings that are here in the city right now?"

When that question was brought up, a memory struck him hard, reminding him of how he lost them one by one.

"My father was taken by the Yamatos to work in a coal mine, my mother was killed by the Yamatos, and my little sister was kidnapped by the Yamatos. I'm just by myself, ma'am," he answered, lowering his head. His tears started flowing. He missed them, the memories where they were once together in a place they called home.

The Ruthenian officer, who was asking questions, felt pity when she saw his state.

"I'm very sorry to hear that, you see, we have a list of names here of the Chosonese we've processed from other cities. Do you want me to look her up? Just give me a name."

Hope gleamed in Lee's eyes. "Really? Can you find her?

"We can't guarantee that we'll have a record for your sister, but this is a great start," she smiled.

"Thank you, then, the name of my sister is Lee Hyeo-ri."

The military officer typed the name of his sister on the blank search bar. She frowned at the result.

"Unfortunately, the name of your sister doesn't match up with our records."

Lee looked down, his rekindled hope was shattered again.

"But for now, we will give you an identification letter that you must keep in you at all times," a sound akin to scratching sounded from behind the desk. The military officer pulled out a paper from a black machine and handed it to him.

Lee looked at the paper he was handed. All of his personal information was there.

"Look, the war is not yet over. Your little sister may be in the south. Our forces might be able to find your sister as they push through the south. If they do, just come back here. We are stationed here for months to process the civilians. Lee Hak-Joo wasn't? I'll remember your name. I feel sorry for your loss."

"Thank you for the kind words, ma'am. I appreciate it. Uhm...may I give something to you?"

"What is it?" the military officer spoke.

He pulled a folded piece of paper tucked from his waist and handed it to her.

The military officer and her colleagues checked the paper with curiosity.

"That's a map I drew where you can find the resting places of the Yamato in Hanseong. I hope that it will help you crush the Yamato Army."

The military officer smiled. "Thank you, now if there's anything you want to say or give you may do so now, otherwise you are free to leave."

"I'll take my leave."

***

Temporary command headquarters, Kaesong. The military generals were discussing how they were going to approach Hanseong inside the meeting room.

A military officer who processed Lee's identification was stopped by a soldier guarding a door.

"Sorry ma'am, you cannot enter here without prior authorization."

"Look, I have something to give to Brigadier General Danilov, it's intel provided by a Chosonese man about enemy positions of the Yamato troops in Hanseong."

"Is that even accurate?"

"Look, why don't you just stop asking questions and give it to him?"

The man clicked his tongue as he snatched the paper from her hand. "Fine."

Ten minutes later, the generals finished their debriefing. General Brigadier Danilov, one of the generals of the Ruthenia Empire participating in the Rutho-Yamato war was stopped by an officer.

"Sir, someone wants to give you this paper, it says that it contains enemy positions of the Yamato troops in the Hanseong."

Brigadier General Danilov took the paper from his hand and opened it. "Ahh...this. this is old intel, there are no troops in these positions as they already left. Regardless, we are going to bomb it anyway...Hey Bobrovsky! I want every Zhar-ptitsa in the city fueled and ready in the next five hours."

"Yes sir!"

"Throw this in the trash, will you? We already have spy planes, we don't need this shit."

"Yes, sir."