Internal Reorganization
The Lunar New Year holiday was over.
The festive buzz had settled down, but the energy in people's faces hadn't faded. If anything, it had transformed into something more concrete — a firmer, sharper sense of purpose.
A population of roughly ten thousand.
It had grown far too large to be called a mere band of survivors anymore. The time had come to operate it as a vast system — a small 'nation' in its own right.
Busan Physical High School, within Yeongdo-gu.
This place was no longer a school. It had become a recruit training camp.
The plan here was to sort individuals by their strengths, assigning them to combat branches or specialized roles.
"Faster! If your legs give out, your throat gets torn out first! Run like your life depends on it — because it does!"
The drill instructor's booming roar rolled across the training field.
The loudest voice among the instructors in red caps belonged to Ji Seong-gyu, whistle clenched between his teeth as he drove the trainees onward.
Hundreds of young men and women circled the field.
Some were stick-thin, freshly rescued from Geumji New City; others, hailing from the Iron Corps, already carried solid muscle on their frames.
The cold winter air steamed white from their mouths and shoulders, rising in unbroken clouds.
But their faces were alive with spirit.
They'd been wary and hostile toward each other at first, yet sweating together and rolling in the dirt side by side had begun to sprout a strange camaraderie between them.
Sang-goo sat in the stands with Kim Dae-gi and Park Ji-hoon, canned coffee in hand, watching it all unfold.
"Everybody's looking good out there."
"Hoo-ah… You said it, Hyung-nim."
"Reminds me of when I was young, too."
"I came out of Busan Physical High myself, you know."
At Sang-goo's sudden remark, Kim Dae-gi and Park Ji-hoon's eyes went wide at the same time.
"What?!"
"No way — you were actually there, Senior?"
"Couldn't make it to the high school. My circumstances were... complicated."
"Explains why… you sound like you know all the drill commands by heart."
"Figures. Our Senior really was one of us."
Kim Dae-gi and Park Ji-hoon chattered on with an enthusiasm that all but sprayed spit.
Sang-goo simply smiled faintly and took a slow sip of his coffee.
Little Dog sat curled at Sang-goo's leg, occasionally rotating her high-performance lens to scan the field.
The weather was fine, and watching other people suffer for a change made this side of the fence very peaceful indeed.
During the break, a sweat-soaked Ji Seong-gyu came trudging over, and Park Ji-hoon respectfully held out a can of coffee.
"You've been working hard, sir."
"Whew… Much obliged."
Ji Seong-gyu downed the coffee in one gulp.
"So how is it? Settling into the new job?"
At Sang-goo's question, Ji Seong-gyu let out a laugh like air escaping a tire. His expression and manner of speech had changed completely from when they'd first met.
"Body and mind are both a lot easier than before, I'll say that. But it's not worry-free."
"Is there a problem?"
"Honestly? Half of them are hopeless and the other half are barely usable. I need to whittle this crowd down as much as I can before sending the best up to the main force. Hhh." Ji Seong-gyu clicked his tongue and jerked his chin toward the field. "The kids from Geumji New City are in terrible shape nutritionally. I'd say we need to build up their spoon-holding strength before we hand them a rifle. Now, our Corps boys have the conditioning, but—"
"But?"
"Their discipline is a total mess. All they've done this whole time is raid and strike poses. Straight-up field-bandits, the lot of them. So we're re-teaching everything from the ground up, per Captain Baek's orders. Of course, the Navy SEAL noncoms will be handling that part."
"The mood out there still looks good, though."
And Sang-goo was right.
Off in the far corner, an Iron Corps man was handing a water jug to a skinny young man from Geumji New City, patting him on the back.
"Sweat together and you get close fast. And above all—"
Ji Seong-gyu pointed at his own forearm.
The gray training uniform, emblazoned solidly with the Taegukgi.
"Put the same clothes on everybody and a sense of belonging takes root, doesn't it? It drills it into them that they're all the same household now."
Just then, the whistle blew, signaling the end of break.
"Aigoo, well then — back to it for me. Keep up the good work, gentlemen."
"Thank you for your service, sir."
Once Ji Seong-gyu had gone, Sang-goo rose from his seat as well.
Out on the field, the shouts of encouragement and clouds of dust were still rising. It was living, breathing vitality.
"Heading back to the quarters, sir? Grab lunch outside on the way in, why don't you."
"Maybe I will."
They had just reached the parking lot when a familiar face approached.
"Enjoying the show?"
It was Team Leader Baek Sang-jin.
Kim Dae-gi and Park Ji-hoon snapped to attention so fast it was almost comical.
"Loyalty!"
At the two men's deafening salute, Team Leader Baek snorted a laugh and raised a hand.
"Yeah, yeah. You've all been working hard. Am I interrupting your break?"
"Not at all, sir! We're returning to our posts now!"
Kim Dae-gi and Park Ji-hoon gave Sang-goo a polite nod of the head as well, then vanished with military bearing in full display.
Sang-goo watched them go with a smile, then turned back to Team Leader Baek.
"How did you know I was here?"
"Wherever you are, Sang-goo-ssi, we always track it. I have a meeting with the Director — care to walk with me?"
"Of course."
Team Leader Baek fell into step beside him.
"The zone leaders were just assigned and responsibilities divided."
Walking along, Team Leader Baek laid out the plan ahead as naturally as breathing.
"For Geumji New City, we're dispatching agricultural specialists to get the smart farms back online. The Saha-gu industrial complex will run ammunition and equipment production lines under Factory Chief Kim Cheol-ui's command."
"That's remarkably fast."
"And here in Yeongdo-gu, we'll handle command and control, plus recruit training like what you just saw. Food, weapons, manpower — the three rhythms are finally starting to sync up."
With two groups rallying under a single cause, they were hardening at a genuinely remarkable pace.
Sang-goo laughed.
"You're working yourself to the bone. But you really don't have to report every little administrative decision to me. I'm sure you'll handle it all just fine, Team Leader."
He genuinely couldn't fathom why he should be receiving reports on the camp's administrative matters.
But Team Leader Baek stopped walking, turned to face him, and spoke with sudden gravity.
"You're not just anyone, Sang-goo-ssi — how could I *not* tell you? You're the symbol of this camp. No — of this entire alliance."
"……"
"You should at least know the broad strokes of how things are running. It puts our minds at ease, knowing that. And if you ever have an opinion, speak up anytime."
It felt like excessive treatment — but it also meant that much trust in him, so it sat on his shoulders like a burden and warmed him all at once.
"Thank you. I appreciate you keeping me in mind."
A short while later, the two arrived at Director Yoo Dong-seok's office.
Knock, knock.
"Come in."
As they stepped inside, Director Yoo looked up from his paperwork and removed his glasses to greet them.
"Welcome. Team Leader Baek — and Sang-goo-ssi, too."
Director Yoo gestured past the sofa toward the large monitor filling one wall of the office.
"Everyone's busy, so let's get straight to it."
They all took their seats.
The screen showed the interior of an underground isolation room.
Jang Seok-woo was there.
"…His condition has deteriorated. In just a matter of days."
At Director Yoo's troubled voice, Sang-goo stared hard at the screen.
The two-meter colossus that, barely a week ago, had boasted muscles on the verge of bursting — gone.
Jang Seok-woo crouched on the bed, visibly gaunt. His muscle mass had deflated like air out of a balloon, leaving loose skin hanging off his frame, and his whole body glistened with cold sweat.
Every so often he twisted and groaned, and even through the screen, the agony seemed to bleed through.
It was exactly seven days since his first injection of the Red Stabilization Serum.
"He says it feels like he's burning from the inside. Like his joints are melting."
"Shouldn't we inject him now? If he goes into shock like this—"
"He refused. Said it would be a waste to use it yet. What's your take, Sang-goo-ssi?"
"You said ten days was the limit, so let's watch him one more day or so."
Director Yoo readjusted his glasses and let out a sigh.
"Honestly… with unbelievable things happening before my eyes again and again, sometimes I can't tell whether the dream is reality or reality is the dream."
Among the leadership, intel about Jang Seok-woo's identity and abilities had long since been shared.
Sang-goo had also willingly gifted the four serums meant for him to the leadership.
The man with the miraculous blood that healed any wound in an instant.
Known as the Healing Factor.
Afraid of damaging the man's body, they'd even been meticulous about how his blood was drawn.
He was fed well and allowed plenty of rest, and aside from an initial 500 milliliters, nothing more had been extracted.
By Jang Seok-woo's own account, up to a full liter was fine within ten days when he was healthy — but still.
In any case, since 50 to 100 milliliters was enough to heal a single patient, they had secured a cure-all capable of treating roughly five people.
"The real question is whether this case is the only one of its kind. If Holton's Healing Factor is that boy and that boy alone, fine — but if not…"
Team Leader Baek's eyes sharpened.
"They'll come for this place."
"It's a problem even if Jang Seok-woo isn't alone," Sang-goo added. "If any other camp out there is holding onto someone with his abilities, they'd make a perfect cult-leader-in-waiting."
At Sang-goo's words, a silence settled over the office.
Just a moment's thought was enough to conjure a parade of headaches, and both Team Leader Baek and Director Yoo's faces tightened.
"And the real Jang Sun-woo who created this mess is out there somewhere running his filthy experiments… All the more reason we need to grow stronger."
"Agreed. But… have you selected the personnel to manage Jang Seok-woo?"
At Sang-goo's question, Team Leader Baek and Director Yoo exchanged a glance.
It seemed no suitable candidate had emerged yet, so Sang-goo named one.
"What about the people from the crows' laboratory?"
"We did consider that, but…"
Weren't those the lunatics draining blood out of children?
Handing that golden goose that laid the golden eggs over to people like that sat none too comfortably.
"Well, it's ultimately your call, gentlemen. But if there's no one better, why not entrust it to them under strict surveillance?"
Director Yoo nodded.
"Let's do that. As you say, Sang-goo-ssi."
The moment he finished speaking, he looked toward Team Leader Baek.
Something must have registered — some unspoken cue.
"Then. I'll get everything prepared right away."
Team Leader Baek saluted and left the room.
He seemed to have something more to say, but Sang-goo stayed quietly seated and waited.
Just the two of them now — an awkward situation.
Director Yoo straightened his posture.
"There's something I've been wanting to say to you. Thank you, always… and I'm sorry."
Director Yoo bowed deeply from the waist.
Still, he was by far the more senior man.
Sang-goo rose from his seat as well and bent forward in a returning bow.
"I'm just earning my keep. I've received plenty of help myself. Please, sit down. Or I won't be able to stay in this room."
"Haha… Yes, Sang-goo-ssi."
"And lower your speech, please."
"That's… something I'll need to take slowly. It won't come easy with you, of all people, Sang-goo-ssi."
"Yes… well, whatever's comfortable for you, then."
"It may be a bit early, but we're making several plans for your sake, Sang-goo-ssi."
"Plans?"
"Nothing grand. May I ask — if Hwang Sang-chul and your other family members ever make it here… do you intend for them to join our camp?"
"If it's not the Hwagae Market camp down in Daejeon, then yes — I'd say they'd join here."
"Good to hear. Still, just in case, this is something I've prepared."
Director Yoo drew something from his coat.
A plastic card — a plain black background with a golden phoenix emblazoned across it, without a single word of text.