Resumption of Communications (2)
Korea's largest granary, the Honam Plains. The crops that once blanketed the vast fields had been left to rot or burn black. Field mice scurried busily among them, eagerly scooping up the dried grains that had fallen unharvested and shoving them into their mouths. Squeak! At the occasional cry of a bird overhead, they'd dart into burrows, thickets of weeds, or under overturned skull-like gourds. A brown nose poked cautiously from an eye socket in one such skull, sniffing the air. A strange scent—neither of the living nor the rotting dead—wafted into its nostrils.
"Grrr...!"
Countless Walkers wandered the abandoned plains. Now and then, startled birds would burst into the sky from the underbrush. Some distance away on a hillside, light glinted off a lens. A spotting scope catching the sunlight.
"More than I expected."
The commander pulled his eye from the scope. Two mugunghwa flowers adorned his epaulets.
"Transmission received loud and clear." Click. The radioman beside him set down the handset of the backpack radio.
"Battalion commander, permission granted. They say go time."
The commander nodded grimly and gave a hand signal. Soldiers hidden in positions all around rose one by one. Ten, twenty, fifty, a hundred. Two hundred, and the count kept climbing. More than half wore military uniforms, but civilians in plain clothes gripped rifles among them. Tension etched their faces, but fear did not. The duty to feed their families, the trust in the army still protecting its people even in this hell—those gave them courage.
"Commence attack!"
For the first time since the Infected War, a major military operation was underway. They would reclaim Korea's greatest breadbasket! This joint civilian-military op attacked from multiple routes. Sweeping the scattered Infected from the abandoned farmlands was relatively straightforward. They'd mixed in support troops from allied units and civilian volunteers. The push into the city where Infected had clustered fell to the main force, the Mokpo garrison. Small by inland standards, but a city was a city. The horde visible even at the outskirts was jaw-dropping.
"Kieeeek—!"
Gunfire echoing from afar drew an immediate reaction from the Infected. Their movements grew frantic as they began noticing this side, one by one.
"It's starting."
The lead officer spoke, twisting his selector to semi-auto. The sound rippled outward like dominoes around him. The staff sergeants were veterans who'd survived the Infected War on active duty. No need to micromanage. They all knew what to do. Rookies, though? Couldn't expect the same instinct.
"Set selectors to semi-auto."
"Se-selectors to semi-auto!" chorused the newbies.
"Who told you to repeat orders during an op? You think this is training?"
"Sorry, sir!"
The refugee recruits were stiff with nerves.
"Loosen up."
"Fingers off the triggers."
Even with the vets' encouragement, they wouldn't relax—until salvation rolled by. Tanks. The heavy rumble of their tracks. That sound soothed the rookies more than a hundred pep talks. Just knowing these steel behemoths stood before them sparked courage from nowhere.
More tanks took position. Whirr. With mechanical whines, turrets swiveled toward the city. Targets: a cluster of Walkers milling at the entrance. Boom!!! The main gun roared, the blast tearing at eardrums across the plain. High-explosive rounds shredded flesh, sending chunks flying. Satisfying to watch, but the vets knew it was just poking the hornet's nest. A monster tsunami would surge from the city soon.
But they were ready. Artillery crews, barrels cooled, awaited orders. Gray dust choked the city entrance, debris still pattering down. Then the faint monster howls swelled sharply. Silhouettes emerged through the haze.
"Hold fire!"
"Fingers off triggers! Not yet!"
Under the young officer's command, NCOs and vets prowled the line, barking at rookies. Whoosh! Artillery opened up behind them. Shells arced high, bursting into white smoke that rained down. White phosphorus. Not pinpoint—more like seasoning the whole city. Broad dispersal.
No city occupation. Our goal is the farmlands! Eliminate major threats to them. Don't worry about collateral in the urban zone.
Squad leaders and officers recalled the op commander's briefing.
"Good hits. Looks like thousands of candles sprouted legs all over the city. Spectacular."
A thirty-something civilian on drone recon spoke up. Former YouTuber with 400k subs. Civvie tech experts like him were key this op.
"Fire!"
The real monster wave poured out. Guns along the line spat fire. Gunfire and shrieks filled the silent plain. Walkers charging heedless of death dropped in rows—but seconds later, many lurched back up. Enough that rookies felt like for every one they dropped, two more appeared from nowhere.
"Aim for the upper abdomen!"
The officer shouted, popping the head of a Walker whose guts trailed from a torn belly as it charged.
"Shooting the gut does jack. Hit where the lungs or heart are. Won't kill 'em, but it'll neutralize."
As riflemen engaged, machine gunners held fire. They itched to hose the ant-swarm horde, but strict orders: no shooting without command. Fear, stress, destructive urge made trigger fingers tremble.
"Incoming! Right flank, behind the blue-roofed building!"
A civvie drone spotter yelled. Gunners swung muzzles that way. Boom! Ten seconds later, a hulking brute burst through the wall.
"Kroooaaargh!"
A Lugnut.
"Open fire!"
Three machine guns unleashed 7.62mm hell. Their job this op: specialized mutants. Commanders scarred by Infected War ambushes had planned for it. Even a Lugnut couldn't shrug off that punch. Blood streamed from wounds unfit for its bulk; it staggered back into its hole.
"Cease fire! Conserve ammo!"
Whirr, clunk. Guns silenced as tanks finished traversing.
"Fire!"
Boom!!! A fifth of the building's wall vaporized. Boom! A second tank round gutted the center, collapsing the roof. Bricks arced skyward, then rained down. Crunch! An unlucky Walker ate one skull-first and flopped.
"You see that?"
A rifleman laughed, pointing at the twitching corpse. Laughter rippled.
"Uh... um..."
A drone op scanned the rubble, eyes bulging.
"Clear! Hit solid. Upper body's intact but gasping. Rest's hamburger—no threat."
The officer sighed in relief. One of those in their lines? Front disintegrates. He'd seen a battalion vanish to one in the War. Hulk smashing like a tornado—insane strength and speed. Once inside, friendly fire or suicide rush the only option, and its tankiness made that iffy.
"Cease fire!"
The Walker wave paused. Not wiped— one cluster wiped early; others needed time to arrive.
"No real city push, right?"
A soldier asked in the breather.
"Not that I know. Like I said, no occupation. We're securing farmlands. Just burning nests nearby."
The sergeant replied.
"Heard they spotted a Tarzan."
"Fuck..."
Uneasy murmurs spread. Tarzan: what Jin-su called a Rip. Long limbs, corded muscle. Like Lugnuts, their leap power let them drop into lines instantly. Top priority threats. Ignore 'em? Human blender. Shoot? More friendlies hit than mutant. Vets watched hyper-vigilant for leapers.
"Eyes sharp. It's open plains. Shoot straight at what's charging your lane—no issues."
"Break's over. Here they come."
The brief lull ended. Soldiers fixed eyes forward. New Infected wave incoming.
"They came sharpened."
The drone feed was positive. No jets or helos, but solid armor. South had few helos; most relied on scarce drones. Jeju had helos but no tanks—Infected War sea blocks.
"True, but fat chance."
Jeju was basically independent now. Ties to mainland south survivors? Online neighbors. Still, humans cling to control. Air power's symbolism. In a clash, it'd neuter their armor advantage. Why Jeju denied Mokpo's pleas: valued helo parts over risky ops. Mokpo hadn't expected aid anyway.
Fighting dragged into night. No rush—Infected didn't retreat. Like sieging a castle with a 1-INT general from Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Poke till they sally out—no need to storm walls.
Sunset's end, yet burning buildings lit the city. Explosions and shots punctuated the dark.
Truck-mounted floods swept a swampy encirclement sector. Barely 15m wide, waist-deep at most. Twenty Walkers tried fording. Lights pinned them; gunfire erupted. Most became meat before halfway. Shallow-water dead flopped; deeper ones floated belly-up, drifting.
The yellow muzzle flowers wilted in the dark.
"Means every round counts."
Officers, well-briefed, hammered fire discipline.
"Patch him through."
We'd formalized ties with Mokpo garrison. Noise Trees burned first—no direct aid—but recon support? No issue. Outside Tree range, comms free.
He commanded Mokpo garrison.
We fed them low-orbit sats, drone blimps: full Honam Plains recon. Their drones? Limited range, loiter, optics. Our intel? Priceless.
"Wish we could do more, but circumstances."
Genuine gratitude in his tone.
"Heard you got promoted. Congrats."
Jeju's new gov bumped him colonel via official channels. No gear, but rank for smoother command in joint ops.
Like Lee Man-cheol self-promoting general—no one outside bought it.
"Impressive regardless. Didn't expect such unity and smooth ops."
He sighed.
He paused. Op officer reported a breached line recovered.
"Good luck."
Click. Comms cut, but big screens updated Honam Plains ops live.
Humans who don't sow have no future.
Hwang Jin's line convincing other units and camps to join. He'd said it to me too. Sow seeds: farm, kids, safe land to raise 'em. It swayed commanders—and me.
I swiped the touch panel, pulling another region's feed. Not just them saber-rattling. Other factions mobilizing too. Faster, more aggressively than I'd figured.
New map: Gohung-Yeosu border. Both sides one spark from total war.
"Time I moved too."
Artemis sounded displeased.
"Could send drones or bots instead."
Hands clasped behind head, I leaned back.
"But mutual throat-choking hate? Breaking that needs more than shouts or grunts. Gotta pry their hands off personally."
I glanced at Artemis.
"Other ways work, but... too many soldier deaths in the process. Guys holding the line even here."
She sighed.
Her usual can't stop you tone.