Chapter 27
Chapter 27
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 27
Chapter Title: Junior
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Since the sun had set, I spent the night at the Incheon refugee camp.
Sleeping among the chased and starving was no different from offering up your life, so I had to settle for just huddling by a drum barrel fire for warmth.
As I closed my eyes for a moment, a guy came sneaking up to me.
He looked to be in his early twenties. His face was so boyish, you could believe he was still a teenager.
The punk boldly reached for my bicycle.
I opened my eyes and warned him.
"Don't touch it."
The guy flinched but still had some fight left, reaching out again.
I quietly drew my pistol, and only then did he raise both hands and back away. But the group warming themselves by another fire behind him shot me cold glares.
At dawn, another gang joined them.
They muttered toward me, then drew their weapons and slowly approached.
Clubs, steel pipes, rebar bent into hammers, bicycle chains—a motley assortment of crude weapons dazzled my fatigued, bloodshot eyes.
The middle-aged men who'd been sharing the fire with me ducked their heads and slunk away.
They showed no sign of helping or even trying to stop it, but it didn't matter.
I subtly revealed the automatic rifle wrapped in cloth toward the approaching group.
A means of conversation in the apocalypse, you might say.
The young thugs surrounding me exchanged fierce glances before turning and leaving.
Once the punks were gone, the middle-aged men crept back. I showed them the rifle too.
"······."
I sat alone by the flames, waiting for sunrise.
Soon the sun rose, and as soon as soldiers appeared at the checkpoint, I headed for the military headquarters.
I had one purpose: the countless capsules that had appeared around Kyle_Dos's bunker.
I planned to report them to the military.
Capsules were technically under the National Crisis Committee's jurisdiction, but with all those committee members fled to Jeju Island, the military was the only option.
Of course, I'd taken plenty of photos and pinpointed the coordinates.
Honestly, I wasn't thrilled about it.
On the way to headquarters, doubt washed over me several times, nearly making me turn back.
I could picture it: reporting this would only bring trouble down on me.
But what choice did I have?
It had to be reported.
The military might already know, but if they didn't, Seoul was doomed—and that doom would reach me too.
Even if bad outcomes loomed, I had to go. That was the reason.
I'm an old-school hunter from the previous era.
A primitive hunter facing colossal monsters armed only with raw courage, guts, skill, body, and meager weapons.
Thousands of capsules were far too many for a lone primitive hunter like me.
*
Now, two years and two months after the war began, the Republic of Korea's military had split into two factions: the Legion Faction and the National Assembly Faction.
The more hardline of the two was the Legion Faction.
Major frontline units had rebelled against the government's unequal treatment and policies.
Centered around those frontline guardians, they held overwhelming superiority in troop numbers, quality, and equipment.
They trusted that power enough to start a civil war.
The faction I was heading to wasn't the Legion Faction, but their enemies, the National Assembly Faction.
True to their name, the National Assembly Faction was the Republic of Korea's sole legitimate regular army, backed by the National Assembly. They were inferior in equipment and manpower, but they wielded the greatest weapon: legitimacy.
No matter how they dressed it up, the Legion Faction was a coup force bound by self-interest.
Loyalty held when the civil war went well, but as it devolved into urban attrition warfare, frontline units' allegiance began to waver.
Eventually, frustrated commanders handed entire units over to the National Assembly Faction amid the pointless grind, forcing the Legion Faction to rethink their strategy from scratch.
Maybe too hasty a conclusion, but I suspected the National Assembly Faction might win this civil war?
It'd be a victory of wounds alone, though.
I arrived at the heart of the National Assembly Faction.
"What do you want?"
Unlike lower units, bribes didn't work here.
Security was ironclad, as expected.
Tanks and armored vehicles blanketed the ground, while over ten drones patrolled different altitudes and sectors overhead.
Sinister signs were posted everywhere.
[No Photography, Trespassing, or Drone Flight – Violators Will Be Executed on the Spot]
I had no choice but to line up and wait my turn.
"How can I help you?"
After two hours, I finally got a one-on-one with the complaints desk officer.
"Could I speak to the monster response lead? It's extremely urgent."
The moment I said it, I caught the officer's face souring slightly.
"What's the issue?"
"I found capsules. A massive colony numbering in the thousands. I have photos and exact coordinates."
"Capsules?"
"Monster eggs."
I showed him the photos.
The grayish-white flower garden Kyle_Dos had seen.
Unlike me, the officer glanced at it without a flicker of emotion.
He just skimmed the photo and repeated the same line he'd given the previous complainant.
"I see. That's serious. I'll check on it."
The officer beckoned me.
"You're good to go. Next!"
He wouldn't take any action.
No checking, no reporting.
The reason was obvious.
My ragged appearance, unknown past—they dismissed me as a nobody and brushed me off.
I considered leaving, but this wasn't about emotions.
With mountains of ignition material piled up ahead, walking away because my doorstep wasn't burning yet was shortsighted.
I planned to survive at least five more years.
My temperament was softer than I thought—no last human for me—but I could at least play second-to-last.
"Excuse me, could you connect me to Colonel Jeong Dae-kyung?"
Making a scene was crude, but I saw myself as fairly refined.
"Colonel Jeong Dae-kyung?"
"Yes. The one dispatched by the National Crisis Committee."
"Ah, you mean Brigadier General Jeong. One moment."
Connections were the refined tool for someone with my career.
Not that I relished it.
"Hey."
"Yes."
"Who should I say is calling?"
"Park Gyu. Just those two words."
"Mr. Park Gyu. Got it. One moment."
After the call, the officer stared at me blankly.
Did I finally look different?
"He says he doesn't know you."
"······."
"Next!"
"······Get the supervisor."
"Pardon?"
"Get the monster response supervisor! It's an emergency!"
"Sir?!"
No helping it.
The world had forgotten me—what could I do?
"Right now!"
This was the best a commoner like me could muster.
Soldiers soon approached with rifles drawn.
I stayed put obediently.
Resistance meant summary execution.
I waited for them to cuff me, even offering my hands.
Once handcuffed, I politely addressed the one who seemed highest-ranking.
"I'd like to speak to the head of monster response."
"You'll be questioned first."
Off to the holding cell, then.
A good sign, all things considered.
A bit reckless, but in Korea, you had to make a fuss before anyone pretended to listen.
If enduring discomfort gave me a voice—and saved millions while securing my turf—it was a profitable trade.
But the world is small.
*
A dim interrogation room.
Not much: a tiny room with a desk and a lamp.
They'd uncuffed me.
I'd only yelled—no damage or harm done.
Touch a female soldier or private's fingertip, and I'd have been beaten with batons before being forced here.
"Please wait a moment. I'll get the supervisor."
The soldier who'd escorted me spoke without meeting my eyes, in a flat tone.
"Thank you."
I kept my tone as polite as possible.
Here, they held all the power.
Courtesy paid dividends.
Soon, a grating sound echoed from the hall—like steel scraping steel.
Crutches?
Similar, but the material seemed designed to deliberately screech against the floor, even more irritatingly.
What kind of person?
Someone with a seriously twisted personality, probably.
"Oh? Senior Park?"
That voice—I recognized its owner instantly.
No need to see her face.
That deep, resonant timbre was her trademark, one I knew well.
"Daram told me, but you're really alive?"
I looked up, forcing my expression neutral.
She didn't look like the woman I knew.
One elegant model-like arm and leg gone, replaced by ugly prosthetics.
Her face, half-hidden by a deep hood, still bore crushed scars that no hood could conceal.
"······Min-hee."
Her name was Woo Min-hee.
My former deputy.
She smiled at me like a schoolgirl.
"Why didn't you contact me? Makes sense, though—no one but Daram. I haven't heard from Kyung-min or Chang-su either."
"You work here?"
"Yeah. Circumstances."
"What about Jeju? You could go."
"I could, but didn't want to."
"Why?"
"You know."
For a split second, Woo Min-hee's eyes gleamed with a chilling gray-white light, illuminating the darkness.
Her otherworldly gaze flashed as her mangled face twisted into a pale smile.
"I hate Han Min and Na Hye-in as much as you do, Senior."
"······."
I hadn't checked a mirror, but I could imagine my face.
Forcing composure, yet subtly twisting—unavoidable.
"Oh, right—taboo to mention those two in front of you."
Bullshit.
She knew exactly what she was doing.
Always had, since school days.
Endlessly wounding others and herself in that self-destructive life.
If her vitality were any less, she'd have ended it in suicide. But this woman was no pushover.
"Sorry. Didn't think it'd upset you. Wasn't intentional."
But I'd grown too, apparently.
"It's fine. No big deal."
When Kim Daram mentioned those names before, I'd felt a faint sting—not the piercing agony of old.
A little prick, that's all.
Worlds apart from hearing them from Je Phong-ho's mouth back then.
I looked at Woo Min-hee with a genuine smile.
"I got over it a while ago."
Whether true overcoming or mere numbing, I couldn't say. But the Viva! Apocalypse! board crew had undeniably toughened my mind.
From unpopular user to Defender friend, now down to hate-comment family.
Nowhere lower to fall.
"Speaking of, how are Han Min and Hye-in? Us civilians get zilch on their activities."
"Oh."
Pure surprise lit Woo Min-hee's face.
"You really are Park Senior?"
"Problem?"
"No."
She stared at me with intrigued eyes for a while.
An unwelcome stretch.
Finally, she sighed shallowly and spoke.
"Both seniors are on Jeju."
"Figured. Doing well?"
"They'd be eating well, living large. Saviors, after all."
"Saviors... Daram's news?"
"Nope."
"Got it."
"Anyway, good to see you healthy, Senior."
Woo Min-hee raised her prosthetic arm, staring at its two hooked steel fingers.
"Me, I'm like this······."
"······."
Why not die then?
Still, reuniting with Woo Min-hee seemed a net positive.
"Capsules. A whole colony."
At least she listened.
"First since China. A cluster this size. Truce means coordinating artillery with the Legion Faction. By the way, Senior—what was the max barrier range from capsules in your active days?"
"3,250 meters. 3,500 to be safe."
"Now it's 5,500."
"Grown again?"
"They're learning about us, bit by bit."
Kirrik—
Woo Min-hee adjusted her prosthetic grip.
Its talon-like curved fingers were likely custom-ordered from a craftsman.
"Far... so far. But gotta clear 'em."
She stood.
One worry down.
Her personality might suck, but she handled her duties flawlessly.
"Fate brought us together, and I'll be around awhile. Swap contacts?"
Woo Min-hee gave me her ID: "REDMASK".
I didn't want to, but had no excuse to refuse, so I shared mine.
"SKELTON?"
Woo Min-hee suddenly burst out laughing, staring at me.
"What's that reaction?"
"Just reminded me of this idiot human."
"······."
No way this girl?!
Nah.
Not some old-timer like me, Daram, or Sang-hun. Why would a new hunter feared as the "Red Woman" by fanatics bother with a refugee board?
After her sly smile lingered, she handed me a gum-sized paper split in two colors, like litmus.
"No kids, right?"
"Nope."
"Figured, but politeness."
"What's this?"
"Quick telepathy test strip."
"That exists now?"
"Humans are desperate. Stick it in kids' mouths nearby—if the color changes, contact me."
"Kids?"
"Scientists say Awakenings like mine peak in pre-teen cerebral cortexes."
"And if I do?"
"Probably send the kid and family to Jeju."
Woo Min-hee turned.
Her prosthetic leg dragged, screeching like tearing eardrums.
"See you."
She halted, scraping the floor harshly with her prosthetic.
Back turned, she whispered low.
"I still think highly of you, Senior."
The screech faded as she vanished into the distance.
Kyle_Dos's flower field would burn away.
Others would bloom nearby, but my doom was postponed, at least.
Half sentiment, half bitterness in tow, I left headquarters.
White flakes fell over the desolate ruins.
First snow.
Christmas soon.