Big Man. (2)

Six in the evening. Winter meant darkness came early.

At Yeongdo Bridge, the second gate of the Yeongdo Camp in Busan, men who had just finished dinner and arrived to take over the watch lit a cigarette each as they began their first shift.

The outposts guarding the bridge were the camp's forwardmost line.

Openly burning a cigarette in a place like this should have earned them disciplinary action even outside wartime.

But with every day a war against zombies and supplies running thin, things had loosened up quite a bit lately. Clamp down too hard and the grumbling starts — and that grumbling can end in friendly-fire incidents.

This place, walking that precarious tightrope of balance, was the Yeongdo Camp where the ROK military was stationed.

"Phew… Boo Sang-goo, still no word?"

It was a young man wearing a lieutenant's insignia who spoke. Even with a homemade long padded coat layered over his uniform, the winter sea wind was too savage, and he kept rubbing his shoulders and neck.

The hand warmers had run out long ago; moving his body to generate heat was the best he could manage.

"Three days as of today. No word of his return from the other gates either."

The one who answered, smoking in turn, was a young sergeant. If not for this whole crisis, he'd have more than finished his service by now. Given the circumstances, they were being treated with a fair amount of consideration.

"Three days ago? Then he'll know the area well. He's either coming back by Namhang Bridge or by here."

There were four bridges in total connecting Yeongdo to the rest of Busan. Of those, apart from Namhang Bridge and Yeongdo Bridge, the other two were currently sealed off tight with shipping containers.

Even an isolated island like Yeongdo couldn't afford the manpower waste of guarding all four bridges every day.

"By the way… sir?"

"What."

"About Boo Sang-goo. Have you ever seen his arm?"

"His arm? Ah… the bite mark?"

"Uh… yes. Have you seen it?"

"I have."

"I caught a glimpse of it myself last week or so, in the showers. But the bite mark is kind of…."

"A different size, right?"

"Yes. Do you know why that is?"

"They say he got bitten by a variant."

"A variant?"

"Paju, Gyeonggi Province. From what I heard, it happened at some lab those Holton bastards were running out there. And because of that, apparently he's become completely immune to normal zombies."

At the platoon leader's words, the sergeant's eyes went wide as a cow's. So did those of a corporal who had been staring straight ahead, ears open, saying nothing.

"You wouldn't have seen it, though — you weren't here when we retook Yeongdo."

"Uh… right. I've only heard bits and pieces."

"Without ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Boo Sang-goo, we never could've retaken this place. Normal zombies just plain don't register him."

"No way. You're telling me the invisible man thing is actually true? With the zombies?"

"Yeah. I saw it. A whole horde of them, dozens bunched up together… and he charged straight in with an axe and a katana. There's never been a warrior like it — trying to save bullets, he just hacked and split every last one of them. Haah…!"

Just recalling that moment sent adrenaline flooding through him. The platoon leader's excited face flushed red in an instant.

"So he's immune to variants too?"

One of the corporals, who had stayed quiet the whole time, asked as if the words just slipped out. The sergeant's face was equally full of anticipation.

"Nope, not that. Only the variants recognize Sang-goo and come at him, they say."

"Ah…."

"Figures…."

The two soldiers looked vaguely deflated. The platoon leader hated seeing their morale dip.

"So what if they recognize him? So what if they attack? They still end up with their skulls split by Sang-goo's axe all the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠same. Don't be scared, you idiots. Those variants are nothing special."

"Yes, sir…."

"Understood, sir."

Nothing special, huh.

Everyone here knew from experience how fast variants were, how sharp their instincts. How many rounds you had to pour out just to bring down one of them. Try to club one to death with blunt weapons and even a squad made up entirely of strong men would be hard-pressed to manage it. That was a variant for you.

Everyone knew that fact — and so the briefly lifted mood sank right back down. The platoon leader pondered whether he could add anything, then decided to let it go.

It was cold, and supply was slower than ever. The people kept multiplying while the food kept shrinking. This was no longer a situation that hope alone could fix. Winter would have to end before anyone could even think about planting crops.

Unfortunately, there were no smart farm systems here in Yeongdo. In a place surrounded by sea on all sides but for its four bridges, simply surviving the winter could be counted as good fortune.

We still have to raid those aircraft carriers and warships floating out there.

Even now, if you looked south from Yeongdo, dozens of anchored warships were visible without needing binoculars. In particular, the aircraft carrier held a staggering amount of supplies, sleeping alongside thousands of zombies.

And when exactly are we supposed to go get it?

That was what the platoon leader was thinking.

Vrooooom—

A bright light caught his eye in the far distance. At the same time, a welcome engine note rang in their ears.

"Sa– Sang-goo! It's him!"

"He's back! He's coming this way!"

Boo Sang-goo's appearance was, quite literally, the celebrity — the hero — of Yeongdo, and the sergeant and corporal's voices shot up.

The platoon leader was overjoyed too, but he couldn't relax until he confirmed it up close. It could be scouts from a raider camp, so he kept his tension and gripped the radio tight.

A short while later.

"Outpost 1! Boo Sang-goo is returning!"

Back at the camp after three days away, Boo Sang-goo went through a simple check at Outpost 1, then passed two more checkpoints before he was finally allowed into the Yeongdo Camp. No matter how much of a hero he was here, that was a rule he absolutely had to follow.

Not that Sang-goo had any real complaints about it.

Once inside, Sang-goo headed straight for the Grand Hotel. In the early days he'd stayed with the soldiers, but recently he'd been granted a hotel of his own to live in.

The Grand Hotel. The sign said hotel, but the building wasn't much different from a motel. It would be a stretch to call it a nice hotel — but in a zombie world like this, it was a place to get out of the cold wind and stretch out, so Sang-goo had no complaints. Best of all, he had most of the hotel to himself.

Only two soldiers stayed on-site, on the ground-floor lobby and staff quarters, serving as Sang-goo's butler(?) slash bodyguards. That part was a little awkward, but out of respect for the effort they'd put in, he just let it be.

Anyway — warm rooms, running hot water. He was getting along well enough.

Vrooooom—

Sang-goo parked his motorcycle in front of the hotel. Before he even dismounted, what caught his eye were the people waiting out front and behind. Two of his resident butlers — bodyguards, rather — shot out from the entrance like lightning, and behind him a van screeched to a halt.

"You're back, sir!"

"Welcome back, sir! You've been through a lot!"

Sang-goo gave the bodyguards only a nod, then shifted his gaze behind him. It was a vehicle marked Busan Police, now used by the soldiers stationed here.

"Sang-goo!"

The man shouting a greeting the moment the door opened was Team Leader Baek Sang-jin, formerly of the National Intelligence Service. The somewhat uptight but fiercely loyal public servant whom the elder Hwang Sang-chul had always called "old Baek." He was one of the senior officials running the camp.

"Team Leader."

Boo Sang-goo returned his greeting with a light nod. Sang-goo's two bodyguards saluted crisply.

Baek gave them only a small nod in return, then came rushing over with both ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠arms thrown wide, as if greeting a friend of twenty years.

"Man! It's been way too long. I heard from the outpost — three rescue points, is that right? The moment the sun comes up tomorrow, I'll have the rescue team moving. By the way, are you hurt anywhere? Have you eaten? You've got to have dinner!"

It had only been three days. He acted like it had been months.

Being appreciated anywhere you go is a good thing. But still… it was a little much.

"I was planning to wash up first, then eat."

"Ah, right, right, of course. And by the way, how's our black mare? Anything bothering her?"

"The oil was changed not long ago, so she's fine. Actually, could I resupply on medical supplies?"

"Med-kit boxes? Ah, of course! Go wash up. I'll have the trunk filled up by the time you're out."

Four leather trunks were mounted on the front and rear of the motorcycle. When Baek beamed a businesslike smile that promised yes to everything, Sang-goo said,

"You seem to have something you want to say."

"Ha ha. How about we start with dinner first?"

"All right."

He clearly wanted to ask for something. I'll find out when I hear it.

Sang-goo went up to the hotel's top floor.

The water was lukewarm, but that was fine. It was his first shower in three days, after all. In other places, what was three days? Survivors who hadn't properly washed in a week, a month or more, were overflowing everywhere.

He had plenty to be grateful for as it was.

I was going to just go to sleep.

Three days of hard travel meant he craved sleep more than food. But with Team Leader Baek having sprinted over the moment he arrived, he might as well go.

Sang-goo traded his trademark leather jacket and boots for a comfortable padded tracksuit. When he came down to the first floor, Team Leader Baek and his men were waiting for him.

It had taken him about twenty minutes. Not a single one of them showed a flicker of impatience — they greeted him warmly.

"There he is. Ah, man… you must be exhausted. I feel bad dragging you out."

He clearly knew it, and he was doing it anyway — which meant he really did want something. Not that Sang-goo resented him for it.

Either way, the camp ran so everyone could get by, and Sang-goo had stayed here because he'd chosen to help. It was a hard world, wasn't it? With not just zombies but mad foreign scientists meddling in their affairs, it was only natural for the Korean people to band together. However strong Sang-goo was, he had his limits alone.

"Let's go."

"Sang-goo, how does dwaeji gukbap sound for dinner? Pork and rice soup."

"Yes, that's fine."

Riding in Team Leader Baek's car, they arrived at a restaurant with a clear view of the sea. The sun had set and the soft lighting was on — the atmosphere was nice, and the menu was spectacular.

Steaming hot dwaeji gukbap with pickled radish kimchi. A thick rolled omelet had been set aside on Sang-goo's plate as well.

Pork, whether frozen or whatever — in times like these, wasn't this a genuinely lavish table?

Sang-goo, without any concern for appearances, cleaned the bowl out completely. One more bowl of plain rice, and the same again for the broth. You had to eat well when it was time to eat, or the body wouldn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠keep moving.

"Would soju be too much? A drink or two would help you sleep better."

Team Leader Baek said it once the meal was finished.

"I'm fine, so go ahead and say what you need to."

Now that he'd eaten, Sang-goo was telling him to get to the point.

"Ha ha. Well, you see… as you know, Sang-goo, I made a promise to Elder Sang-chul…."

Hwang Sang-chul had warned him firmly, hadn't he? Whatever Sang-goo did, don't stop him, don't interfere with him, and don't pester him.

But what was Sang-goo's presence in this camp anything but extraordinary? Immune to normal zombies and capable of taking down variants — a genuine zombie killer. His strength, stamina, and reflexes all effortlessly outclassed your average elite athlete. Honestly speaking, no special-forces veteran in the camp could beat Sang-goo in a brawl. He'd never tested it, but he suspected even a full squad rushing him at once wouldn't push him past his limits.

"I'll hear you out first."

Sang-goo was lightening the man's burden for him.

"Thank you. Then let's take a look at this."

As if he'd been waiting for exactly that, Baek pulled out a tablet.