Chapter 160
Chapter 160
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 160
Chapter Title: 78. Photo (2)
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Is there any mode of transportation more familiar to Seoul citizens than the subway? But ever since the war broke out, it became an even more intimate part of life.
During the height of the war, it served as a bunker. After society collapsed, it functioned as an evacuation shelter.
A subway built underground with sturdy concrete and rebar is a fortress in itself—a solid foundation for survival, equipped with everything needed to live.
I'd heard that until Seoul was abandoned, a huge number of people had partitioned off sections inside the subways and lived there.
Maybe that's why.
Ting-
When Defender flicked on the lights, the subway station's bulbs chased away the darkness all at once.
Electricity was still running.
As we descended the stairs into the subway, the familiar stench of daily life and its remnants assaulted our noses and eyes.
Boxes, empty mattresses, discarded blankets scattered everywhere, along with unidentified trash strewn about in chaos.
Panels made of PVC that looked like they'd been used as partitions lay abandoned, stamped with footprints that caught the eye.
"I got lost here back in high school,"
Dajeong said, gazing around with nostalgic eyes.
"I had to transfer, but no, it's too far! Why on earth did they design it like that?"
I wanted to answer her, but I couldn't. You never let your guard down underground. The depths were always zombie dens.
When inactive, they huddled in dark places—especially underground—like computers in sleep mode, motionless until they sensed humans, then springing into action.
This station had once housed people, but it'd been abandoned for over a year.
Meaning wandering zombies could have set up new nests here.
I'd never coordinated with an Awakener before, but moving with someone who could see through walls and detect humans was undeniably convenient.
"Nothing. Not a thing."
Heo Jong-cheol wasn't armed.
More precisely, he hadn't been given a weapon.
If I hadn't been there, Defender might have armed him, but due to some prior awkwardness, Defender kept him disarmed.
"No zombies, no people. Just us."
We'd reached the stairs leading to the platform.
The descent was blocked by tape printed with "Access Denied," and eerily, it bore a biohazard warning symbol.
"What is this? Bad sign?"
Dajeong crossed her arms and glared at the warning with furrowed brows.
"Maybe they used chemical weapons or something."
Defender replied as he drew a knife and expertly sliced through the tape.
"Wanna go down?"
He asked his sister, who nodded with arms still crossed.
"Need the subway for the shot."
"Subway, huh. Might not even be one. Could be gone."
"Then we check."
Dajeong unslung her backpack and pulled out a palm-sized drone.
With a simple controller, it hummed to life and floated down the stairs.
"Handy."
I commented, and Dajeong gave a faint smile, eyes on her glasses-mounted screen as she manipulated the controller.
"Drones are essential. Even in war."
"Chinese made some killer ones,"
Defender chimed in,
"They don't use Awakeners."
Heo Jong-cheol added.
"Why not?"
Defender stared at Heo Jong-cheol.
"Some issue, probably."
Heo adjusted his glasses and stroked his signature mutton chops.
"Word from my Chinese contacts: they did live experiments."
"On Awakeners? Everyone does that."
"Sure, but they found something fatal. Chinese used Awakeners seriously at first, then scrapped the program overnight."
"What'd they find?"
"Guy I know said it threatened the Chinese race's survival. No details."
A flaw tied to the survival of the Chinese race.
But hadn't they already perished?
There were survivors in Hainan, but none of my business.
What bugged me was the Chinese group west of my territory—beyond Dragonseed's bunker.
"You still in touch with that Chinese guy?"
I asked Heo Jong-cheol.
He flinched and averted his eyes at my question.
"Uh, no. Not anymore."
"Speak freely. What."
I don't care about age; I don't want formal speech. It feels like creating a dynamic where I bear too much responsibility. Better to mutual informal or casual.
I bantered casually with the Defender siblings, so formal from him would feel off. Casual it is.
"They probably hate me. I scammed them."
Heo continued awkwardly.
His gaze clouded, then his eyes widened as something clicked.
"Ah! A kid!"
"Kid?"
"Friend said Awakeners have issues with kids."
"Birth defects?"
Defender interjected.
"Nah, but some serious data."
No way to know what data, but Chinese found a lethal flaw in Awakeners—no doubt.
They chose extinction over using them.
Awakener level 5+ can temporarily neutralize reflex fields.
That alone lets firepower crush monsters in local fights.
One level 10 seals low-intensity rifts easily.
Level 15+? Godlike.
What flaw made them abandon such power?
I don't speak Chinese and know no Chinese, but I'd ask one who did: why ditch Awakeners?
"All clear! Subway's clean! Total bluff!"
Dajeong's drone returned during the talk.
I finally noticed the cute stickers plastered on it.
"...Heard rumors they prepped subways to move anytime for VIP escapes."
We headed to the platform as Heo spoke.
Unlike the filthy, stench-filled, lived-in concourse, the platform retained its pre-war form.
Dust-covered, trash-strewn, but tidy corridors, screen doors, floor markings for lines,
faded posters on walls, and beyond the screen doors, a subway car waiting with open doors.
"Hey! Let's ride!"
Dajeong dashed excitedly.
She boarded first and sprawled on the priority seats.
I stared; she shot up, flushed.
"Always wanted to do that for real."
Defender grabbed a strap and stood by a seat. Heo Jong-cheol, oddly, lay in the aisle and started crawling.
"What're you doing, Jong-cheol?"
Defender asked. Heo hummed weird music.
"The Little Mermaid."
Not right in the head, that one.
Never imagined a once-dreaded necessity, public transit, turning into a thrill greater than an amusement park.
"SKELTON, you not doing anything? First subway in ages—get into it."
Dajeong urged me.
What to do?
Never commuted, so no special subway memories.
Used it occasionally for errands or family graves, otherwise cars or no-commute setups.
But one seat caught my eye.
I plopped into the bright pink one.
All eyes on me.
"SKELTON, that's for pregnant women!"
I replied calmly.
"Pregnant seat give birth, or priority seat?"
Proud pun, but they all looked away.
Dajeong changed subject.
"Okay, photo time!"
Everyone posed on seats.
Heo held camera.
"Ready, chee—"
"?"
"Means cheese."
Repose, wait signal.
"Ready, chee—"
Click-
Photo taken.
Me, Defender, his sister.
Ours plain-faced except Dajeong's, but eyes satisfied.
Gazed at empty car with faint smiles.
Once packed with crowds, now just rocking lightly with our movements.
That gentle sway and clunks? Gone forever.
Corner: mutton-chopped guy fidgeting, eyeing me and Dajeong—Heo Jong-cheol.
"Photo for you too, Jong-cheol?"
I offered.
"C-can I?"
"Might as well, while here. When next?"
In past routine, we snapped tons of pics.
Abandoned amusement park overhead? Meh.
Nothing tops this: mundane turned fantasy, preserved perfectly here.
Post-faint thrill, we reviewed shots.
Lots: group, concepts, even my pregnant-seat social statement.
But flaw.
"Hmm..."
"What's up? SKELTON, sour face."
"All good, but..."
"Yeah?"
"No impact."
"True. Does it matter?"
Dajeong beamed.
"Fun for us is enough."
Her smile infectious.
Right.
Fun for us suffices.
Submit to Photo! Apocalypse!
"Say, hypothetically,"
Dajeong said on return.
"If Legion faction doesn't suit me, can I crash at your place, SKELTON?"
"What?"
"I'll follow family, but if it sucks? All Heo Jong-cheols?"
"ABC friends?"
Heo mumbled nonsense.
Dajeong wry smile.
"See? All like him, I'm out. But bro stays—for fave colleague."
"...Not rational like. Just clicks."
"Pfft. Saw you fidget when she called."
Uncharacteristically flustered Defender ignored, she eyed me.
"Your take, SKELTON?"
"Hmm..."
Glanced at Defender.
Eyes met; he said,
"Sister decides."
"Well, if so, spare house."
"Yeah?"
"Cabin with sauna."
"Sounds good. Stay here?"
She joked; Defender turned from front.
"You need checkup."
Checkup?
Defender caught my look, explained.
"Good hospital there. Few tests for sis."
"Bad ones too?"
"Nah, but opportunity's good. You could too, joining Legion."
"Maybe."
Via mirror, eyed Dajeong.
Eyes met; smiled at her grin.
"Contact if coming."
"Yep!"
No telling when—or if—she returns.
No promises.
Might never meet again.
But possibility soothes.
Accepting farewell, perhaps.
In haze of long drowsiness lifting slightly, I gazed at endless snowfields.
Long road ahead.
Defender's Defender, SKELTON's SKELTON.
Photo contest focus now.
Honestly, confident this time.
Why?
Trump card photo.
Dark wasteland backdrop, colossal beasts scattering, Rebecca and daughter staring endlessly.
Obvious.
Win.
Free pass.
Submitted boldly, victory assured.
Viva Bot sees it too.
Grinned smugly, replied.
"M9, that bastard?!"
I yelled aloud, uncharacteristically.
But professor-like, calmed quick, typed coolly.
"..."
m9.
What the hell is this guy?
What's his game, m9?
Before shock faded, Melon Mask's excited yell blasted speakers.
"?"
Rare for this scammer to hype genuinely.
Melon Mask bellowed; screen switched.
Dim outdoors.
Two men crouched, screen-gazing.
One in ragtag but luxe suit.
That face—gray, withered—not human.
Zombie.
Je Phong-ho.
Electrified shock; eyed man beside zombie Je Phong-ho.
Skinny, Jesus-long hair.
Eyes gleaming.
No doubt.
My netizen from Dead Man's City: I Am Jesus.
Behind: ruined cityscape, countless zombies crouched identically, screen-fixed.
"...Damn."
Unforeseen.
Zombie savior—no, zombie king—I Am Jesus, powers full throttle, glamorous board return.
In global Photo! Apocalypse! fest, no less.
Melon Mask's question; screen to I Am Jesus video call.
Herding hundreds zombies, gleaming eyes on screen, one word:
"Memmem!"
I Am Jesus's first and last utterance.
"..."
Concede.