The Survivor
I had been shouting orders since dawn, rallying my officers and team leaders for one last strategy session. The meeting was loud, voices cracking with urgency as we planned our next move.
Normally, we would have gathered every able-bodied soldier by morning and pushed straight toward the Grand River Apartments. But last night’s assault had already drained our ranks. Hundreds dead in the chaos. Morale had cratered overnight, and the men’s complaints were spilling out like blood from a fresh wound.
Still, I had to silence them. Just a few more hours and we’d be inside the safe zone. That was when a voice cut through the air from outside the warehouse.
“Listen up! You’ll never beat me! Surrender and I’ll spare your lives!”
The crowd started to stir. People at the windows began shouting that the bastard had appeared again, and fear rippled through the group like poison gas.
“Those who fought me are mostly dead! The ones who ran are going to learn the hard way—you’ll never win against me!”
He kept bellowing, his voice echoing off the concrete, and my men were starting to crack. Shoulders slumped. Eyes darted toward the exits.
That was when the woman beside me spoke up, calm and steady.
“Sir, let me take the team. We have no choice right now. If we keep charging out there, we’re only going to lose more men.”
She was right. The warehouse was packed with hundreds of bodies, but the fire in their eyes was missing. Only a handful had real guts, and even they were mostly carrying the cheap police-issue revolvers that barely hit what they aimed at.
She had that cold, emotionless face that made people want to look away. Professional gunfighter. The kind of eyes that could freeze a man solid before he even pulled the trigger.
“Fine,” I told her. “Kim Hee-jin, I trust you with the plan. You’re in charge.”
Her eyes sharpened for a second. Then she raised her voice and started barking orders at the men. I watched her move like someone who had already calculated every possible outcome.
Minutes dragged on. I kept offering surrender, but no one listened. That was fine. They still had fight left in them. At least for now.
Then the front door slammed open. A couple of guys started dragging furniture inside, stacking it into a barricade.
“Full-scale fight, huh?”
I pointed at the fighter who’d been with me since the beginning.
“Take everyone else back three blocks. Hide inside the buildings. Stay out of sight.”
“What? We’re supposed to fight!”
“Frontline is my job. You weren’t brought here to die for me.”
The fighter looked ready to argue, but one look at my face shut him up. He grabbed his men and moved out fast. Good.
Soon the enemy appeared at the front. They started shooting from behind cover. Roughly a hundred meters away—close enough to kill, far enough that it still felt safe.
I dropped the air gun, switched to the Benelli M4 shotgun, and moved. Buckshot. One blast at this range would turn a man into red mist.
I weaved through the streets, dodging stray bullets while listening for the next wave. One of them tried to flank from the side alley.
“Bang! Bang! Bang!”
They opened fire first. I pretended to hesitate, let one get close, then put a full spread of buckshot straight into his gut. His body folded backward like a broken puppet.
[Soul 1 absorbed]
[Super Regeneration: 447]
The sound of running feet got closer. I sprinted after them.
When I rounded the corner, four men stood there in a tight cluster. Point blank range. I opened up with the Benelli again. Four quick shots. Four bodies dropped in the time it took to blink.
[Soul 4 absorbed]
[Super Regeneration: 451]
Before I could even finish the reload, more attackers came from the side. I spun, fired a pair of shots into the air, and landed right behind them. Two more fell.
[Soul 2 absorbed]
[Super Regeneration: 453]
Their bodies twitched on the ground, but I didn’t stop. I was still fighting. They were still shooting. That alone said they were elite. Real soldiers who refused to break.
I kept moving, switching between the shotgun and the revolver at my hip. Bullets whizzed past my ears. One grazed my arm. Another clipped my side. The pain flared, but Super Regeneration was already knitting the wounds shut.
[Soul 6 absorbed]
[Super Regeneration: 459]
I emptied one revolver, grabbed the second, and kept firing. One of them closed the distance. I dodged into a side alley to reload.
A woman stepped out of the shadows. Thirty meters away. No gun in her hand—just a strange pistol I’d never seen before. Sleek, black, something out of a sci-fi movie.
I smiled. She thought she could outdraw me? Cute.
She fired. Five shots in the space of a heartbeat. Each one precise. Each one aimed straight for my chest and heart.
I twisted, tried to dodge. The first round punched into my shoulder. The second into my ribs. Pain exploded through my body, but the regeneration kicked in immediately.
I sprinted sideways, slammed into the wall of the next alley, and rolled. When I popped up, she was already dead—two rounds from my shotgun had taken her apart.
[Soul 2 absorbed]
[Super Regeneration: 461]
The woman lay crumpled in the dirt, her strange pistol still smoking. Her hand was shaking as she reached for it. Blood poured from her mouth.
“H… ha… You… you’re not human…”
“Still,” I said, “you shot better than anyone I’ve ever seen.”
“If… if I had met you first… I would have… died under you…”
“If you want to die that badly, I can help you.”
My next shotgun blast hit her chest and turned her into red pulp.
[Soul 1 absorbed]
[Super Regeneration: 462]
Even a professional gunfighter couldn’t save her. That pistol she used? Something new. Some kind of experimental round. But it didn’t matter anymore. She was gone.
Footsteps faded in the distance. The team leader’s scream had turned into silence.
I moved away from the warehouse, checking every shadow. How many rounds had they put into me? A dozen? Twenty? My chest still burned like hell, but I was breathing normally now. Super Regeneration didn’t quit until I was done.
I reached the safe house in the next block. The fighter was waiting, shotgun still smoking.
“Sir! Are you okay?!”
“Stop yelling. I’m fine. Just need a minute.”
He looked ready to cry with relief. I waved him off and walked inside. The others were already inside, checking the perimeter.
“Any movement?”
“Nothing, sir. We’ve been quiet.”
“Good. Stay hidden. I’m going to rest.”
I dropped onto a dusty mattress in the back room. The men were still scanning the streets. Ten minutes later the pain in my chest had turned into a dull ache. The bullets I’d taken had fallen out onto the floor—small, jagged pieces of metal. Not the usual revolver rounds. Something lighter. Something that wanted to tear me apart.
I held up the strange pistol I’d taken from the dead woman.
“This is what she used. Never seen anything like it.”
The fighter scratched his head. “I don’t know guns real well, but… that looks like a 22LR cartridge. And the gun itself… it’s a competition shooter’s piece. Sports grade.”
“So the woman was a pro? No wonder she was so accurate.”
“Maybe we can recruit her side if she’s still alive somewhere.”
“She’s dead. And even if she weren’t, turning enemies into prisoners is harder than beating them.”
Ten more minutes passed. I stood up. No limp. No dizziness. The wounds were already gone. Super Regeneration at 462 now. The gunfight had only made it stronger.
“Ready?” I asked.
“Haha, we’re your pack mules now, huh?”
“Mule and emergency guard duty combined.”
“Hell yeah!”
We stepped back into the street. No more enemy footsteps near the bodies. They had pulled back inside the warehouse. Operation had failed. They were regrouping.
I slung the Benelli over my shoulder and started walking again. Behind me, my men carefully searched the dead for anything useful—guns, ammo, whatever they could carry. I didn’t care. All I wanted was to get inside the Grand River Apartments and lock the door. Then I’d make them pay for every soul they’d taken.
The world outside was still burning. But I was still breathing. And that was enough for today.