Chapter 113
Chapter 113
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 113
Chapter Title: 60. The Traitor (3)
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After the war broke out, the Chinese military units hadn't made any real moves.
They didn't have the strength to march straight into Seoul and hoist their five-starred red flag, nor were they weak enough for us to just wipe them out if we went on the offensive.
Still, if the Korean government set its mind to it, annihilating them with air power or artillery alone wouldn't be that hard.
There was a reason for this.
"We put nukes on the table. We said we'd quietly find a way back to the mainland if you turned a blind eye until we left. That kept our landing force hanging on precariously at the tip of the peninsula. When we heard the homeland had fallen, it was dizzying... but in a way, a relief too."
After losing contact with the mainland, they did nothing—and had no need to.
Everything was free.
Except straying beyond the zone the Korean government had allowed them.
Not that venturing out mattered much. Monsters, zombies, and mutations lurked everywhere.
Their forces weren't that large anyway.
Around five hundred men.
That number soon dwindled to three hundred.
Some insisted on heading back to China and took a submarine across the sea. Others couldn't adapt to life abroad and deserted or took their own lives.
The survivors were mostly the mild-mannered ones.
Even those who hated Korea found their anger fading amid the slow passage of time and the peaceful lapping of waves.
They seemed set to live out their days in that land they called Shangri-La until the world ended.
Slowly, serenely.
Then one radio transmission shattered the peaceful camp.
-Deploy the strategic weapons remaining in Incheon.
What was suspicious wasn't just the message's content, but its source.
The cryptic signal came in the encrypted format typically sent from the mainland.
It matched the wavelength used by the mainland's top brass.
The unit erupted in chaos.
Opinions split down the middle.
One side insisted on obeying the higher command; the other urged caution, doubting the signal's origin.
In the end, the hawks won out.
It wasn't that they outnumbered the doves.
They just had louder voices, more fight in them, and were willing to get ruthless with their own comrades.
They ended up notifying Hainan and requesting support.
In the process, a shootout broke out in the unit—the moderates lost.
Dozens died, and even more fled.
Ma narrowed his eyes suspiciously, tilting his head as he voiced his doubts.
"Who do you think really sent that transmission?"
Ma was convinced.
It couldn't have come from China.
"That was Jong-cheol."
Defender sighed from the driver's seat.
"The guy's been spouting weird shit for a while now. I just ignored it..."
"Jong-cheol sent it? How could he?"
Ma looked incredulous.
"Said he found something in the sea. Some Chinese warship comms gear. He was all excited about stirring up trouble with it."
"...You've been talking to him?"
Defender nodded.
"We do radio too. Not cheap K-walkie-talkies—real long-range stuff. Reaches the world."
By the time he finished, night had fallen.
Heo Jong-cheol's base was on the city's outskirts.
I turned to Defender in front of a junkyard piled high with scrap metal and trash.
"Can we at least talk first?"
He still didn't want to see his teammate die.
"Guy's weird, but a decent doctor. You saw that yourself."
Defending him this far meant as much.
"If we can talk it out."
We slowly drove toward the container-box fortress we'd visited before.
A mutation dog chained at the entrance bared its teeth when it saw us.
Ma freaked out, but my mind went to Gold.
I wondered if he was okay.
That could wait.
The vehicle stopped.
We grabbed our guns and stepped out.
No reaction from inside.
Defender and I kicked the door open and rushed in.
Empty.
No one there.
But then—
"Jeong-ho."
A voice came.
Not from inside the container—from outside.
"Why'd you come here? No heads-up. And armed."
It was Heo Jong-cheol.
I exchanged glances with Defender.
"Jong-cheol."
Defender called out to him.
Meanwhile, I pinpointed his position.
Outside.
Probably using his x-ray vision to watch us through the container walls.
"Lower your weapons."
Heo Jong-cheol's voice was ice-cold.
"Guns down, legs spread, turn around. Then we'll talk. And you next to him—ah, the guy from before. Same for you."
No chance.
He might spare Defender, but not me.
I don't need anyone else's permission when my life's on the line.
I slowly lowered my rifle.
Very aware of his gaze.
"Why are you doing this?"
I asked as I set it down.
A chilly reply came from beyond the wall.
"Pistol too."
I complied and fired off another question.
"You plan to kill three million? Your own countrymen?"
A cold scoff echoed from the other side.
My ears twitched faintly.
He's moving.
Slightly, but steadily.
"I told you before. Turn this place into Jeju. Thin the population, ease the rift pressure."
"What about the monsters already here? They're swarming from the north right now."
"They're not, are they? Not coming."
"We don't know that. Even in China..."
"I hate this country."
Heo Jong-cheol cut me off sharply.
His movement stopped.
"Why?"
"Does hate need a reason? Hurry up, turn around. I can see everything."
I couldn't see what his x-ray vision showed through the wall.
But he hadn't called out my hidden ace.
"Heo Jong-cheol."
I called his name.
A sharp exhale—like defiance—came from beyond.
That was enough.
Whoosh—
I hurled the axe from my belt toward his presence.
Thud!
The blade punched through the wall. I rolled low, snatched my gun, and fired.
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!
Toward where his voice had come from.
The burst tore a long horizontal gash through the container steel.
Through the slits, I glimpsed a dark shadow fleeing.
"Argh!"
Leg hit?
He was limping away.
A split-second gamble, a dangerous one.
Heo Jong-cheol had maximized his x-ray vision by using the container walls to block sightlines—the best tactic for a minor Awakener like him.
And like a true Hunter, he knew how to mask his presence.
If he'd wanted to win, he'd have sniped us unilaterally before we spotted him.
Trying to talk handed us the edge.
As I reloaded to finish him—
Defender gestured at me.
"Let me catch him."
"You could die."
"Nah, I won't."
"Together then."
We stepped out of the container.
Instantly, a black blur lunged at us.
The chained mutation dog.
Heo Jong-cheol had cut it loose.
Its jaws closed in on Defender's throat in slow motion.
His shocked face too.
"..."
Not to brag, but I'd faced this hundreds of times.
Lost teammates right in front of me.
My rifle barked.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Five rounds to the eyes— even a big one drops.
The mutation dog spasmed backward, blood and goo spraying from burst sockets.
Switched to full auto, shredded its soft belly.
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!
The thrashing stopped.
Defender and Ma stared at me, dumbfounded.
"S-Skelton!"
Reloaded and scanned for Heo Jong-cheol.
He was hightailing it far off.
Mid-range wasn't my specialty, but I raised my gun at his back—caught Defender's look and lowered it.
He was done.
Won't show his face here again.
Unless he doesn't value his life.
But the situation was still ongoing.
I turned to Ma.
"You know this place, so your comrades do too?"
Ma nodded.
"The truck crew? That Hunter and soldiers? How many?"
"At least fifteen aboard."
"Including the Hunter?"
"Yes."
Outskirts, not Incheon proper. Not my bunker—their turf. Fifteen Chinese elites...
No Heo Jong-cheol, but a nuke truck here was dire enough.
Could I block them or send them back?
Contacting Woo Min-hee was best, but she was elsewhere, unreachable.
No other soldier would buy my story.
And who knew when the truck would arrive.
"Want me to go talk?"
Defender eyed me cautiously.
"No. Doubt it'll work."
If fighting broke out, I needed every fighter.
Without Defender, a truck arrival left me helpless.
Even traps lacked firepower.
The mutation corpse on the ground would heighten their alertness too.
"..."
What now?
Stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Ma—the root of this mess—broke the impasse.
"There!"
He spotted something, chattering excitedly in Chinese.
"Encrypted comms gear!"
"Encrypted comms?"
"He must've used this to fake the signal. Has to be! This is frontline HQ-level equipment!"
"..."
I eyed the device and asked Ma.
"Mobile?"
"Yes. Usable."
"Mic?"
"Voice comms standard. He probably stuck to Morse 'cause of his shaky Chinese."
"Hold on—can you connect it?"
Defender glanced at me.
"Skelton. You speak Chinese?"
I met his gaze calmly.
"No."
"Then what?"
Ma connected it then.
Static crackle—
Ma handed me the mic.
"Connected."
His puffy face shone with trust.
I took the mic, wired with coiled black cord like a pig's tail.
Chinese came from the other end.
Sounded like rank, name, affiliation check.
I listened silently, then spoke one word.
"Ding hao~."
Stunned silence on the line.
Not just them.
Ma and Defender's faces stiffened.
I kept going undeterred.
"Tang su yuk nan ja wan si ni pa ro ma~."
The Chinese caught on, sputtering.
Just as planned.
Buoyed, I unleashed my signature beatbox.
"Boom boom clap boom boom clap boom boom clap ah-me-ri-can chi-na pee-pul come on."
They finally realized, yelling something.
"Washing pa ja ji. Washing? Brazilian waxing~."
I set the mic down and shrugged.
"They won't come now, right?"
"Wh-what?!"
I turned to Ma.
"Nuke. Only one, yeah?"
"Y-yes!"
"So they'll turn back. Once it's clear they talked to a lunatic like this, no way they stick around."
Defender nodded, slapping his forehead.
"Skelton. You're a genius?"
"..."
Not quite.
Truth was, no one feared that Chinese truck more than me, Park Gyu.
I desperately hoped my nonsense sent them packing, trying Woo Min-hee again.
Predictably, no luck.
*
We spent the anxious night awake.
No Heo Jong-cheol. No truck.
Tried radioing the Chinese again.
They ranted and cut us off.
Ma smirked wryly.
"Cursing us out."
He laughed. I laughed too.
Skelton's ploy worked.
Thud—
The comms gear had served its purpose.
I tossed it outside and smashed it with a hammer for good measure.
Defender eyed the wreckage.
"How'd Jong-cheol turn out like that?"
"...Who knows."
I knew but didn't say.
Every country has people who hate their own nation.
No dish pleases every palate; no country makes everyone happy.
Heo Jong-cheol was one.
Korean blood, but hated his kin most.
That's why killing three million didn't faze him.
Whether vague or blind hate, unclear.
I figured the former.
Blind hate for all Koreans? He'd have acted sooner, more aggressively.
To me, he was a traitor.
Hating his people for nebulous reasons.
But traitors weren't just him.
"You asked why earlier?"
Ma approached.
"Why I betrayed my unit?"
Stripped of his Chinese uniform, he wore a suit from Heo Jong-cheol's closet.
"Now I can tell you straight."
Looking every bit Korean now, he gazed at the junkyard, sea, and city beyond, drawing a deep breath.
With a fading sigh, he revealed his heart.
"I hate my country too."
He waved and headed cityward.
No clue what a foreigner would do in a Korean city, but I silently wished him well.
His puffy face held no hope, though.
"...Two traitors."
I muttered after him.
Who was right or wrong? Not for me to judge.
*
"Just sent it. Color pics."
Da-jeong forwarded fresh mutation corpse photos.
Relief—no Gold, no pups.
But the female beside him lay belly-up like a dead rat.
Other shots showed what looked like Gold's pack heading south from the wasteland.
I brewed pour-over coffee for once, climbed the hill, savored it while surveying.
The earth was turning brown and gold.
"...Whew."
Slowly but surely, my world changed too.
The wind had turned noticeably chill.