The Tooth Collector. (6)
A cold night wind swept across the table. White smoke curled up from the leftover grilled pork, but Sang-goo had already set down his chopsticks and picked up his helmet.
Little, sensing that Sang-goo meant to leave, rose to follow him.
"You're going now? Are you in your right mind? At this hour?"
Ji Seong-gyu asked, his brow furrowed. His voice carried a strange authority beneath the bewilderment, and the men standing guard around them tensed as they watched Sang-goo's retreating back.
"It made up its mind to move at midday. It's already had a taste up on the bridge — it won't hold out for long."
"Heh… Seems you don't know the nights around here. This isn't a safe island like Yeongdo-gu. And the Corps Commander will be arriving soon — if he finds out I just let a guest of your standing walk off alone, my head might roll for it."
Sang-goo turned back to face Ji Seong-gyu, helmet tucked under his arm.
"I know. Everything there is to know about this town's nights."
"Stubborn as a mule. Just how full of yourself are you, to have this much nerve on top of it? Honestly… my curiosity makes me want to let you go…"
Ji Seong-gyu gave a bitter laugh and shook his head.
"But no. If you truly must go, move out with the reconnaissance squad tomorrow morning. I'll escort you as far as Yeongdo-gu Camp. That's not a favor — it's a suggestion bordering on an order."
He rose from his seat and moved to block Sang-goo's path. A broad frame that defied belief for a man in his early fifties filled Sang-goo's view.
But Sang-goo didn't back down. He took a step forward instead, meeting Ji Seong-gyu's gaze dead-on.
"I'll ask you only once. Are you going to stop me?"
Something in Sang-goo's icy eyes made Ji Seong-gyu falter. Ten years in Special Forces, twenty as a firefighter — he had crossed the line between life and death more times than he could count, yet the aura radiating from this young doctor was unlike any killer or hero he'd ever faced.
Like meeting something else entirely. A different species, hard to put into words.
"…Hhh, this is driving me insane. Truly."
Ji Seong-gyu pulled off his beret, raked a hand roughly through his hair, and fiddled once with the pistol holster at his waist.
Sang-goo simply waited in silence for an answer. If it came to it, the whole negotiation table — and everything else — could go up in smoke.
Having rationalized it that far, Ji Seong-gyu finally let out a deep sigh of surrender.
"Fine. I'll see you out."
In place of a compliment, Sang-goo answered with a silent bow.
.
.
.
Kuguuuugu—
The massive steel-plate lift began its descent. The gentle glow of the rooftop smart farm receded overhead, and the heavy air once more impressed the harshness of reality upon them. Amid the rattling vibration, Sang-goo spoke absently.
"'Corps Commander,' is it? This isn't the military. Why use such a title? Honestly, it's a bit cringeworthy."
Ji Seong-gyu smiled wryly and fished a cigarette from his pocket, tucking it between his lips. Fsssh — the lighter's flame flickered briefly in the darkness and vanished.
"Cringe or not, what can you do? Controlling thousands of rough men like these takes that kind of weight. We've got no religious faith to bind us, no noble cause about defending the nation. We're just beasts with nothing left but the instinct to survive one more day."
"……"
"When you have to bind men like that into a single unit and move them, nothing works like absolute authority — call it Corps Commander, call it Division Commander."
"What kind of man is this Corps Commander?"
"Heh heh heh. Digging for intel already?"
"You're the one I'll be sitting across from at the negotiating table, so it's only right you pass along the basics."
"Hmm. Tough-looking, but smooth with words. A shame. If you'd stayed in our camp, I'd have treated you well."
"If the direction's right, the day we live under one camp will come."
At Sang-goo's enigmatic remark, Ji Seong-gyu tilted his head.
"Whew… Our Corps Commander is Kim Cheol-ui. A real Army Lieutenant Colonel, retired. Engineer corps, from a family that ran a construction business and manufacturing plants for generations. In the early days of the outbreak, he personally directed everything from this fortress's structural design to its defense network. Without him, this place would have fallen long ago. He's a stickler for principles, a bit stiff — but when it comes to looking after his own, his devotion is genuine."
Ji Seong-gyu recited his commanding officer's résumé with vigor, as though reciting a heroic saga.
"So the Iron Corps is named after him?"
"Partly, you could say."
"Pardon my bluntness, but where do you stand in the hierarchy?"
"Asking me that to my face — that's a bit much, don't you think?"
"If it's uncomfortable, you don't have to answer."
Ji Seong-gyu exhaled a long stream of smoke and grinned.
"Let's see… if you insist, I'd say number two. Under the Corps Commander, I oversee all field command."
"A career soldier, then."
"Ten years in Special Forces. After discharge, twenty years as a firefighter. Until the outbreak, I was rescue squad chief at a safety center in North Gyeongsang."
A number two with a résumé like that might just be able to talk business with the government side at Yeongdo-gu Camp. But one thing still nagged at Sang-goo.
Retired as a Lieutenant Colonel. Did he leave service before the cell-regeneration vaccine? That would explain why he's not a Variant, running this place as its chief.
While Sang-goo pondered this, the lift reached ground level, and they passed back through that horrifying corridor to the outside.
Near the fortress entrance, in a corner of the maintenance yard, Sang-goo's Dark Knight sat parked under heavy guard.
"I have a favor to ask."
Sang-goo pulled a radio and three black terminals, each no bigger than a finger, from the compartment beside the medic box. Miniature GPS trackers.
"This radio is for communicating with me. The channel's already set — all you need to do is keep it charged."
"And the little ones?"
"I'll be delivering these to each of the bridge outposts. If something appears — or even if they just sense something strange — tell them to press the button immediately. The location will transmit to my helmet's HUD in real time."
Ji Seong-gyu stared at the alarm devices, an odd expression crossing his face.
"So you really do mean to catch that thing. You'll be on standby all night?"
"Its patience is running out. It chased a living man in broad daylight — it won't sit still just because it's dark."
"I've already doubled the manpower at the bridge outposts. The moment you leave, I'll get word to them over the radio."
"You've thought this through."
Sang-goo swung onto the bike and started the engine. As the deep hybrid rumble broke the maintenance garage's silence, Little Dog nimbly hopped into the sidecar and settled in.
"I'll bring the medicine before long. Have something ready to say at the negotiating table."
"I'll be looking forward to it. You got nerve, Doc — see you soon."
The enormous steel gate swung open with a ponderous groan. The fog-shrouded darkness of the industrial complex lunged at Sang-goo as if to swallow him whole. He lowered the helmet's visor and twisted the throttle.
Vroooooom—!
Sang-goo's first destination was the area around the Nakdong River Bridge, where the incident had occurred that afternoon.
The mist rolling in from the Nakdong River was far thicker than it had been in daylight. He switched on the helmet's thermal scan, and heat signatures clustered at the head of the bridge came into view. Normally two men held this post — now a full eight, armed with shotguns and improvised rifles, warily watching every direction.
Sang-goo parked the bike, approached them, and handed out the GPS alarms one by one.
"If you see anything, press it before you even think about fighting back. That thing can handle this many all at once, no problem."
The men swallowed hard at Sang-goo's chilling warning as they took the devices. He went on to the other two crossings in turn — the Eulsukdo Bridge and the river estuary dam — delivering the alarms to each. Eight men clustered tightly at every post, and Sang-goo made sure to leave his warning at each one.
* * *
In front of a wrecked convenience store on the riverside expressway, Sang-goo parked his bike and got some rest. When Little Dog, alert and watchful the whole while, gave a wag of its rear, he reached over and ruffled the beast's head.
Two in the morning. No alarm had sounded anywhere yet.
Not yet?
The creature's attack intervals were growing shorter by the day. That meant its patience was nearing its limit.
Was it being cautious because of the eight men? Or had it already gotten its fill in daylight and decided to rest tonight?
Or perhaps it had found different prey somewhere else.
"Was I wrong?"
Being wrong wouldn't be so bad, he thought — if it meant not a single person died tonight.
"Hoooh…"
Sang-goo opened the thermos and warmed himself with hot coffee, then began stretching out slowly.
About ten minutes passed.
Sang-goo mounted the bike, planning to sweep all three bridges once. He flipped on the hazard lights and headed first for the lowest crossing — Eulsukdo Bridge. He didn't approach closely; he watched from a distance. Eight heat sources reflected in his visor. All safe.
Next, the Nakdong River estuary dam. The same there. Some were asleep, taking turns resting in a tent set up on the roof of an RV, while others spotted Sang-goo's bike and tilted their heads in curiosity.
Last, the Western Busan Nakdong River Bridge.
He was on his way there when—
Piiiiieeee—!
A sharp alarm tore through the tablet strapped to his forearm and his helmet's HUD. A red dot blinked like a madman's heartbeat. The very place that had already been attacked in daylight.
It's here.
Sang-goo wrung the Dark Knight's throttle all the way open. The tires shrieked as they ground against the asphalt.
Beyond the fog, gunshots began ringing out from the direction of the Western Busan Nakdong River Bridge.
Bang! Ba-bang! Babababang!
Short, stuttering rifle fire — followed by a scream so agonized it was hard to believe it came from a human throat.
Hold on. Just hold on a little longer!
By the time Sang-goo reached the scene, the gunfire had already gone silent. From the shattered radios lying on the ground, only hissing static spoke to the horror of what had happened. A thick smell of blood rode the pre-dawn air up into his nose.
The eight elite men Ji Seong-gyu had stationed here lay sprawled in every direction. Sang-goo dismounted and approached slowly.
Click. Click.
Then, from behind the 2.5-ton truck, came the sound of metal.
Sang-goo instinctively leveled his gun barrel toward it. Beside the truck's wheel, someone's leg was visible — the last of the eight.
Caught on thermal imaging. So it's not just another Variant, then?
The creature — unlike any Variant he had ever seen — was gripping the dead man's hair with one hand, forcing a giant pair of pliers into its mouth.
Click.
At the metallic sound, the creature froze. But it didn't flee. There was still far too much 'harvest' left on this bridge. Of eight corpses, it had only just begun pulling the first tooth. Its greed was winning out over its fear.
Sang-goo, for his part, didn't move in rashly either. Close the distance carelessly, and the thing might leap into the river and escape.
So this is what it's actually for.
Slinging his rifle across his back, Sang-goo drew something from his pocket: a round plastic container, sized to fit snugly into a car's cup holder.
Rattle. Rattle.
He shook the container lightly. The grinding of the pieces inside shattered the stillness and rang out across the bridge.
"So this is what you wanted?"
Sang-goo's voice was low and calm.
"You left me a message in one of my traps. A present — asking for more. So I brought some."
He opened the lid and poured the contents into his palm. Caught in the reflected glare of the searchlight, they gleamed white — slightly larger than human teeth, perfectly angular. Xylitol gum.
"Here you go. Come and take them."
Silence drifted out from behind the truck. Sang-goo could hear the thing breathing. It was weighing its options.
"Better than those yellow, bloodstained ones, isn't it? Come on — take a look."
Slowly, the creature's face slid out around the truck's corner.
It actually understands speech. The message it left was real, then.
The creature abandoned its grisly work and began to flare its nostrils. The instant the searchlight's residual glow swept across its face, Sang-goo drew in a sharp breath.
Jang Seok… woo?
Eyes of crystalline blue, like a clear sea — the kind you could never forget once seen.
There they were, right in front of him now. Eyes that were the exact image of Jang Seok-woo's.