<Previously on Donut Trumpet>


Donut Trumpet has only one wish—to be king.

After devouring 101 burgers, he gains the power to Time-Leap.

Now, in his final year at military school, a brutal marching drill ends in a deadly mudslide!

What fate awaits Donut and his squad?!

Burgers and Time-Leaps will carry Donut up the craziest staircase of his life!


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Intense pain shot through my lower body.


“Argh!”


When I came to, I was being carried away on a stretcher.

I look down through the haze of pain—my right leg is twisted halfway up my thigh, bent in a direction no leg should ever go.

One of the paramedics glances at me, eyes wide.


“You’re already awake? Lucky bastard. Surviving that mudslide’s a miracle.”


“I’m no miracle—I’m the chosen king. What about the others?”


“Not found yet.” The man shook his head.


“With rain like this, they should’ve canceled the drill. Mudslide risk was obvious.”


“…Was it really just the mudslide?”


I can still see it clearly—

that red flash cutting across the sky above the cliff,

the rumble that followed,

and the roar as the mountain gave way.


The mudslide.


I remember the backs of my classmates trudging up the muddy path like worms in the downpour.

Did they all die?

For a moment, something stirs in my chest—panic, grief, who knows.

I shove it down.

I’m the king.

What happens to losers in the mud doesn’t matter to me—


“Pakdonald!”


The word bursts out before I know it.

The paramedic gave me a look like I was a busted toy.


“What the hell are you talking about?”


“Take me to Pakdonald—now! That new chain just opened a few places. There’s gotta be one near here!”


“You’ve got a shattered leg, kid. You’re going to the hospital.”


“No, damn it! Pakdonald! Listen—if I get there, I can save them all! I’ll be the hero! The King’s Medal will be mine!”


“Did this guy hit his head too?”


I twisted on the stretcher so hard it nearly snapped.


“Just go to Pakdonald! I’ll pay—whatever it takes. Just drive!”




The paramedics argued, cursed, refused—but I wouldn’t shut up.

I nagged, I yelled, I begged them to take me.


Finally, the ambulance screeched to a halt in front of a brand-new Pakdonald’s.


At the entrance stood a clown with wild red curls, a yellow jumpsuit, and red-and-white stripes, grinning like the devil himself.


Still on the stretcher, I rolled past him into the store.


“Big Pak! One-hundred and one!”


The counter staff stares, then starts stacking burgers until the trays are overflowing.

Propped up by the medics, I drag myself to a table.

People gape, whisper. I don’t care.


“Ughhh…!”


My leg stays twisted, pain burning through my right side like fire.

I grit my teeth, tear open the wrapper, and bite into the golden bun.

One medic mutters, half-amused, half-disgusted,


“He’s actually eating them.”


Fifty… sixty… seventy…


I fight the pain and keep eating.


Eighty… ninety… a hundred… and finally, the last one.


My brain exploded.

The world went dark.


I’ll be the hero.

The King’s Medal—mine!