She Was Both Called God, as Well as Satan

Chapter 86 - Recruitment

After three months of what can only be described as hell, each of us were assigned to different duty stations.

The military, after examining each of our aptitudes, assigned us new recruits to the most suitable departments.

However, even there, we could not escape discrimination.

Assignments were biased in that Black hairs were stationed in relatively safe regions near Earth, while white hairs were usually assigned to the front lines, fighting the United Planets' Army.

On the front lines, fierce battles with the United Planets' Army were fought every day.

While it's true that the Earthen forces were vastly superior in both quality and quantity, the United Planets' Army were no fools.

Understanding the futility of direct confrontation, the United Planets' opted for guerilla tactics, aggressively striking the Earthen forces' extensive supply lines.

As a result, a considerable number of Earth soldiers die before even reaching the front lines.

Furthermore, supply-starved fleets have begun to appear among Earth's ranks. Rumor has it that in the worst fleets, white hairs aren't even provided with proper food rations.

Most white hairs are sent to these dangerous fronts.

However, exceptions exist.

Surprisingly, a few of us, including me, were assigned to a department on Earth.

Upon hearing this, we were ecstatic, thinking things like,

"Now we don't have to worry about getting killed!"

We rejoiced, hugging each other with tears in our eyes; and yet, reality was a cruel thing.

We were assigned to the "Recruitment Center."

Yes, I became a military recruiter.

When I first visited the center, a black-haired officer, my superior, threw a heavy bag at me.

"There's a manual in the bag. Take. Memorize it. Then, go find some new recruits."

He then began playing card games with his fellow black-haired officers.

Naturally, many homunculi existed at the center, but it's the humans that recruit other humans.

The reason for this is simple.

Between being recruited by a fellow human or a homunculus, most people would be more moved by the human.

If the recruiter seems desperate, it becomes that much easier to obtain contracts.

That

is why the recruitment is done by humans.

I head over to my desk in the corner of the center and check the bag.

Inside were various pamphlets, booklets, recruiting manuals, maps, and a small magic communication tool.

Flipping through them, I realized the absurdity of the contents.

For example, the very first words in the recruiting manual said,

"Target the poor.

Convince them that the military is their only option to escape poverty."

Even more ridiculous was the map. It consisted of the areas in which the poor lived and attended school.

I nervously read through the manual.

There were many things written in it.

"Recruit the top of the school caste first.

If you have difficulty in recruiting members of the opposite sex, utilize your body.

Act like a close friend and never turn down applicants.

Convince them that no hope exists outside the Earthen Army.

Tell them that joining the Earthen Army will give them a comfortable life."

Cold sweat formed on me as I read through the manual.

Then, on the last page, I noticed something shocking.

"To the incompetent who fail to meet quotas:

The front line is always waiting for you."

…For the first time in my life, a feeling of primal fear overtook me…

*(Note: Originally, "For the first time, I could hear the sound of blood pumping through my veins.")

Now, let's go back to the beginning of this story.

As expected, I failed to meet the quota for this month.

But hear me out.

Normally, I definitely would've met the quota.

So why was this time different?

The reason is simple.

I am a white hair.

Basically, each person's quota is determined by the recruitment department's head.

And the head of this recruiting station is a black hair.

Well, granted, most recruiting department heads are black hairs.

The black hairs are extremely lenient on their fellow black hairs, yet they assign extremely strict quotas to white hairs as if it were common sense to do so.

In fact, the quota given to me is two to three times greater than those of the black hairs.

When I first heard the quota, I almost had a stroke, but the senior white hairs encouraged me, allowing me to pull myself together.

From then on, I frantically worked to meet the quota.

Still, in the three months since I was assigned it, I have consistently missed my quota.

Every. Single. Time.

"If I can get just one more person to volunteer, I'll hit my quota!"

But by that point, time always ran out.

My black-haired superior would give me a sarcastic lecture.

I had no choice but to endure his sermon, even if my blood was boiling inside.

If I showed any defiance here, I would immediately be sent to the front lines, no questions asked.

This is why I endured so desperately.

My black-haired peers would giggle as they watched me.

"Hey, it's that girl again. I wish she would do her job better."

"Our director sure is kind. I can't believe they would let such an incompetent person keep working here."

"You're a white-haired girl anyways, aren't you? Maybe you're sneaking into the director's bed to do him some favors?"

"Ah yeah, that's probably it. After all, that girl has no pride whatsoever."

"She's a white hair after all. There's just too much of a difference in ability between us and them."

They would say things like this and more; these people who only do a fraction of what I do make sure to chat just within earshot.

Listening to their malicious chatter, I clench my fists, bite my lip, and force myself to endure.

(I want to kill them. I want to kill them. I want to kill. I want to kill. Kill them…)

(I wanna twist their necks off, rip their flesh to pieces, and smash their brains in.)

(Scum of the earth, inferior in every way!)

(You trash with nothing to offer but the color of your hair!)

(I want to kill every single black hair in this facility right now!)

I continued to endure with these thoughts, desperately concealing them within me, so that those around me would not realize what I was feeling.

After the director's sermon, it was time to go back to work; however, the bugle sounded, signaling the end of the day.

Finally released from the long sermon, I left the office in a daze and was greeted by a white-haired senior.

She had such a kind voice.

"I'm glad you're okay," she said. "You persevered well. Great job."

Then, she hugged me and patted my head.

At that moment, my eyes began to water and tears streamed down my face.

I hugged my senior and continued to cry into her rich bosom…

After that, my senior took me to a nearby bar.

We spent some time in the tavern complaining about our days.

(Ah, this is my only time I can heal away from the military…_

(In a world where we are forced to endure severe stress day after day, the only time I can relax… is the time I spend with my senior at the bar.)

About an hour after we started drinking, she decided to speak to me as if she were muttering to herself.

"I'm going to be transferred to the front line tomorrow…"

(…what?)

"Actually, the director has been asking me to be his mistress for a while now… and I… well, I turned him down…"

(What?)

"So, I'm going to give you an area that I have jurisdiction over."

(…what… what are you talking about?)

"A good girl like you doesn't need to be on the front lines."

(Wait a minute… Wait a minute!)

"I put a document in your desk with detailed data on the area I'm in charge of."

(Wait! Wait! Wait!)

"With this, you won't have to go to the front lines.

You should serve in the army safely and get a good job."

"WAIT!"

I stood up and shouted.

"What the hell! What is this!?

Th-that's out of the blue! Th-this… You aren't acting like yourself!

If you're gone… What about me!? What am I supposed to do!

And what do you mean the front line!? Oh no! The supply lines!

We've had a lot of friendly fire recently! People were killed in action!

On the front lines, they don't even collect the bodies!

Because… WHY! WHY! WHY!"

In a smaller voice, I whispered…

"…why are you doing this…?"

My senpai smiled at me…

"Calm down, it's okay.

You can do your duty.

They scolded me for not meeting my quota, but I'm sure there are only one or two people missing, right?

As long as you meet your quota, the director won't say anything.

In fact, if you get a certain number of contracts, you can even get a medal, you know?

Then, you'll even get a better salary after you discharge."

After saying all that, she gave another brilliant smile.

She said,

"…Oh… I'm sorry… I get this look when I try to persuade someone… you know… because of the profession.

It's true that the front line may be a tough place to work in many ways, but it's actually quite easy since most of the people are white hairs.

There's no discrimination there…

Also, this is just a rumor, but… I heard that the Earthen Army is going to introduce a new type of combat golem in the near future.

This new golem is supposed to be really powerful, you know? With that, I hear the United Planets could finally be destroyed."

Having finished, senpai stopped her brilliant smile, turning a softer, kinder one towards me.

And then…

"You must be discharged in one piece, okay?"

She said this.

I couldn't do anything but stare in amazement at her kind smile…

The next day, a new white-haired recruit was sitting at the desk used by my senior.

The director threw a hard, heavy bag at the new recruit and said,

"Read the manual and go gather the recruits."

The department's workers were then asked to go to the office.

The new recruit picked the bag off the floor and began to read the manual inside, his still young face gradually turning white.

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