Kim Huu Tuân's Questionnaire

It is hard to remember where home was. For many of us home was just where the capital was, we would return there for orders or if we aere lucky we could visit there after being injured  for so long. That wasn't the case for me, my home was the military base. Me and my brothers firing our guns to practice our shots against American scum, arranging traps on our front and sleeping in the same bed together. I can't imagine a normal home even if I know that I'm not like most children. That is my home and that is where my heart will stay no matter how long I live. Even if this war ends and my ambition burns away. My home is in that outpost, it is where I belonged 

Preferably new equipment. Money doesn't matter to me all that much, if I can use money to give myself an advantage then I would. Bullets, guns, information, armor. If there is money that can be used for such things then I am more than happy with the result... However if I can't use money to buy anything useful for the field then it is just as valuable as the dirt for me, however even the dirt can be used to blind someone in combat so I suppose the best way to describe how I see money without a purpose is... Good for nothing 

I was taken from my parents for a battle we didn't even start, yet our enemies insist that we are the demons who started the battle despite everything. When in reality they are the ones to blame, the American dogs which come in with their bombs and hellfire which rage across the battlefield. We are not afforded such a luxury, we are disadvantaged to the highest degree yet they show no restraint in burning down our families, destroying our villages. If I could I would go into their country and burn it into ash, I would cause their soldiers to cry for mercy, their diplomats to hide in their bunkers, their citizens to fear me. That is what I want, I would die for my cause but I can't die for it. I won't die for it. I WILL destroy them 

The first time I shot a gun at a real person for the first time and killed them. I was green at the time but when I felt the recoil shoot into my shoulder and heard the gurgle from the dying man's throat as he fell over I felt sick. I could smell the blood coming out from his freshly shot corpse, I could hear his twitching and last breaths as he struggled on the ground desperate to escape. At first I was terrified for what I have done but now I don't think about the blood anymore. Just the recoil 

It is hard to say who I'm close too. I'm not exactly the great friend in the world but there are three people who never would turn their back on me. The first is the nurse who cares for my wounds, she doesn't want me to fight but she still patches me up regardless no matter what injuries I have. She made sure I didn't lose my arm and even if I can barely feel it anymore I eternally feel thankful. The second is my bunkmate, in the barracks we often talked about plans on making a change in the war, new ways to innovate and fight and even had many combat exchanges. I wouldn't be nearly as skilled without him. Finally is my general, he is my leader and the one and only person I follow without question. If he told me jumping into a pit to my death could win the war I wouldn't even think about my death 

I have no formal education of any kind. The main reason for this is because my childhood started in a warfront. From what I recall I was born by a wartime nurse who may have slept around with some of the soldiers. She didn't make to through childbirth, I was raised to fight for the military from an extremely young age. I knew how to fire a gun before I even knew how to write. That wasn't to say I was uneducated, raising someone to fight for a long time doesn't do much if they're stupid. They put me through an officer program to teach me science, mathematics, writing and also culture and history. I am by no means the best at these things but they are skills that were created from this made me ready for the field. I don't need to be like a normal child, I am a man, a soldier 

I have not been in love. My platoons consist of people much older than me and I have felt sdmirairon or attraction to some of the girls I've seen but I knew that I was much too young to have a pursuit like that. I was to be focused on my training and if I survive this war and finally feel satisfied with the fire inside of my soul maybe then I could love again. My reward for my service is my ability to be normal, however I'm not sure if I can be normal anymore. I don't know if I should be normal again 

I'm afraid of going back to war. I believes that every action has karma after death and I alone am chosen to be the karma for America during life but what I also know is that I'm still not Impenetrable. I am fighting for a purpose greater than me, I am fighting for things that are much bigger than me and so... I'm scared. I'm scared I'll die before I become what I need to become that this will all be for nothing that I was just some unlucky kid who got selected to kill people. That's why this contracting thing is so scary for me, it's not the monsters or even the work it's the fact that it's a routine. I find that many people do the same thing as me... We are being strung along into a system. The past. That's what scares me the most, that's why I freeze up whenever I see toys, dolls all of those things I could have had. It's because of the fact it's all "what it's for me. It plays out in my mind like a movie, my vivid imagination still not being dulled by adulthood. I can feel myself growing more tense and less human 

It's my burned shirt. It's a symbol to me at least. I don't wear it all the time but whenever I feel like I'm doing something dangerous I like to wear it, it's sleeve is still missing. The reason being is that I feel that even though it's linked to the worst thing to happen to me I've seen many lose limbs and not survive. I came out with burns because of my own grit but at the same time it feels like I was protected by my shirt. Maybe it's the delusions born from luck or maybe a mix of that and skill but it's a delusion that makes my days just a little bit warmer knowing that I too can have a bit of fortune. I'll keep it on me until I outgrow it. I still wear it on every contract underneath another shirt... Maybe except for when it gets too hot 

The Harbingers. I understand the promises given to me by my own harbinger but something bothers me about them. Frank asked them why they do this and they spoke for bragging rights. How can something with such a simple mind speak to me about ambition? They know not about what I want or even what I need. I sometimes feel like a puppet being pulled by the odd strings of these all powerful beings and there's nothing I can do about it. So I won't do anything, for now I choose to set myself ablaze and continue to burn in the inside until I can burn hot enough to get my wish. I do gain benefits from doing this and I have no interest in overthrowing the Harbingers or anything but the fact I am being led across by them blindly sometimes makes me feel like my operation and agency in life is limited by the words of someone who doesn't even know me 

First I wake up from the nightmares. If I was plagued by the war then I try to calm myself down before doing anything. My hands tend to tremble whenever I remember those days. If possible I eat breakfast usually something simple like eggs and toast with plenty of water and then I perform morning stretches. My body can't given out for even a second so I have to ensure that I am sharp and ready. The most important thing to me in a morning routine is preparing my mind, I don't let myself be comfortable in the morning or at night so I usually choose to only shower when I feel I'm safe completely. After that I check my guns and my equipment and set out after finding out what my plans are. Every day is a battle so it makes sense to have to strategize every now and then