Chapter 274
Chapter 274
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 274
Chapter Title: Faith (3)
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The Defender siblings were currently holed up in a corner of the city that had devolved into utter chaos.
According to them, the city had plunged beyond mere disorder into outright ruin.
It wasn't just the fanatics' assaults.
That had only been the beginning.
While the fanatics launched surprise attacks, unleashing terror across the city, a group of soldiers who had maintained their prayer camouflage rolled in with tanks.
Soldiers in the same uniforms turned their guns on each other.
The warlords' alliance had shattered.
All that remained was a bloody scramble for scraps.
Amid that hell, the Defender siblings had acted with the pragmatism of true doomsday preppers.
They'd prepared for the rumored civil war in advance. The moment they spotted soldiers with suspicious vibes entering the streets, they sprang into action according to their pre-planned strategy.
The situation was straightforward.
The Defender siblings had sealed themselves in a confined zone with very limited supplies.
There was no immediate risk of getting caught in a firefight, but against artillery or Awakened with detection abilities, they weren't free to move.
We needed to act fast.
"No choice. I've met Hong Jeong-ho before anyway."
This time, no comrades were more reliable than mine.
When I explained Defender's situation, both Cheon Young-jae and Ha Tae-hoon followed without a word of complaint.
It wasn't something we'd ever emphasized or shouted about as a motto, but it was the "school bond" that only we knew about.
Even though we'd been pushed into a grim fate by the Awakened, we remembered our shining days.
With maximum danger expected, we needed top-tier preparations.
We pulled out the buggy car that had been sitting idly in one corner of the garage.
This would be our ride.
The path ahead would be rougher than ever, and nothing could punch through such terrain better than this four-wheel-drive beast.
"How much did this set you back?"
Cheon Young-jae tapped the body and asked.
"Over a sheet, I bet."
"Money's rotting away on you."
Following Cheon Young-jae's advice, we fitted bulletproof panels around the driver's seat and engine.
We left the other seats fully open, though—overloading the weight would cripple its mobility.
The biggest drawback of a buggy car was fuel.
It guzzled gasoline, which spoiled easily.
The gas we'd prepped for it was fully sealed with antioxidants and long-term preservatives, but time—the ultimate destroyer—claimed most of it anyway.
"Smells nice."
Cheon Young-jae sniffed the opened can labeled high-octane gasoline.
"Should be usable."
We fueled up and fired the engine.
Vrooooom—
The engine roared to life powerfully.
One major worry down.
"I'll take that bike."
Ha Tae-hoon pointed to my motorcycle.
"Motorcycle?"
"Seats aren't that spacious. We're rescuing two adults, right? Plus, I wanna bring my gear."
I told him to go ahead.
Ha Tae-hoon immediately customized the motorcycle's cargo space to his liking.
Armament didn't change much.
He usually carried three 25-round mags for trips; this time, we upped it to five.
Against an army, more guns wouldn't make a dent anyway.
Like with the Chinese troops, we had to avoid combat as much as possible.
Finally, we reviewed the city map Defender sent and went over the plan together.
"At least it's on the outskirts. That's a plus."
Cheon Young-jae's first words upon seeing the map.
I figured Defender's position was deliberately chosen.
In case they couldn't escape the city on their own, they'd ask me for help—and from my perspective, the southwestern outskirts meant the least hassle. They'd built a panic room there.
Defender had also sent a rough troop deployment chart before the fighting started, but it was probably useless now.
What we needed to remember was Defender's one key message.
I saw it differently.
Monsters could be there.
If Awakened—with waves similar to monsters—drew them in, then a horde could head straight for Wonju, where tons of Awakened were gathered.
We had to anticipate everything.
Not just human vs. human, but human vs. Mutation, and human vs. monster.
Of course, information was always key, no matter what.
"We'll park the vehicles here. Cheon Young-jae and I will scout on foot. Depending on the situation, no deploying the drone yet. Drones are easy for others to spot—and just as easy for enemies to see. We'll approach the rendezvous point and try the communicator. Hong Jeong-ho said it'd work unless he was dead."
We finished preps by morning and left my territory.
"I'll hold down the fort here somehow. At least if someone breaks in, I'll let you know. Not bragging, but I'm good at hiding."
Territory defense was now on Valentine.
He'd pause the Jeju intranet hack until we returned and focus on watch duty.
"Alright then."
The buggy and motorcycle rolled out under the noon sun.
Time was tight, but we didn't rush.
To spare the engine and suspension, we stuck to roads and paused at risky unknown spots for drone recon.
This was my strength—and my flaw.
My always-cautious approach drew plenty of gripes from teammates who thought differently.
That caution had saved us from disaster more than once, but it also meant arriving too late for rescues, finding cold corpses.
People fixate on failures over successes.
I took tons of flak.
But my style never changed.
One thing that had:
"Rushing ahead and dying would be the dumbest move."
I'd switched up how I convinced them.
Not hard results, but softer talk.
I wouldn't deny my rep and track record lent it weight, but Ha Tae-hoon and Cheon Young-jae seemed fully on board.
"There's that saying—haste makes waste."
"Getting ambushed is on you."
Thanks to the distance and our deliberate pace, we hit Wonju after over 13 hours—deep into the night.
I didn't think we were late.
I'd told Defender to plan for at least two days minimum.
Precise estimate.
"Whoa."
"Fuck. It's a shitshow. Total shitshow."
We overlooked the city from a hill.
It glowed like before the war—but not with office lights, streetlamps, or romantic chains of headlights.
Literal fire.
Blazes everywhere.
"Rumors were flying that the legion factions would throw down sooner or later."
Cheon Young-jae chewed on a kudzu root and spoke up.
"No place gets more anonymous tips than during general promotion season, right? They probably all know who's who. Friend or foe."
"No place without factions."
"True enough."
Our school had them too.
I was the eldest son of the biggest—Jang Gi-young's crew.
It got nasty back then, but crashing and burning together buried old grudges.
Anyway, the city was an inferno, battles raging live.
The storm of full-scale warfare seemed past, but sporadic fights dotted the streets.
Cheon Young-jae and Ha Tae-hoon breathed relief at the timing, but I figured peak battle would've been safer.
Judging by the gunfire volume, locations, and frequency, the fights now looked like mop-up ops.
The main clash was over; the victors were sweeping remnants like a dragnet.
Way worse for a small team like us.
But no way were we ditching Defender.
"Stick to the plan."
We left Ha Tae-hoon at the rear and pushed into the city.
The approach was terrain shielded from 4-5 story villas or buildings—winding paths with blind spots.
Inevitably circuitous, uneven, and taxing on stamina.
High-risk routes piled on stress.
Stress builds up body and mind in such spots.
You often don't notice amid adrenaline, but for non-one-shot ops, you manage it properly.
So we took breaks often, scouted cautiously, confirmed paths, and kept tight comms with Ha Tae-hoon.
This wasn't just for us.
Ha Tae-hoon alone faced heavy stress too.
Constant reminders he wasn't abandoned kept him calm enough to perform when it counted.
Cheon Young-jae's detection maxed at 300m, but reliability dropped with distance.
Meaningful range was 150m—like spotting faint flickers from afar.
To confirm humans, you needed 30m.
Still, detecting people from distance paired with human inference.
"Say there's a reaction from a tall watchtower. Even faint, you'd know it's people up there, right? Bunkers too—especially underground. Or open plains—if you sense something below, no need to look. Mole or man."
Conversely, crowded urban areas or beast-infested woods neutered the ability.
Still, peeking through walls in city fights was a massive edge.
"Something ahead."
"I hear it too. Beast—dogs?"
Dogs clustered under a half-collapsed, burning villa, tearing into something.
Half-eaten but the rest intact—easy to ID.
Corpse of a well-dressed middle-aged woman.
The strays sensed us, bristling warily—but some wagged tails.
Even with human blood on their muzzles, lolling tongues and wagging tails. Cheon Young-jae recoiled hard.
"Disgusting."
He grimaced, drawing his silencer-fitted pistol.
"Nip mutations in the bud."
I signaled him to hold fire and said bitterly,
"They choose to wag?"
"...Fair point."
Cheon Young-jae holstered.
We skirted wide, under their wary eyes.
Once gone, even the tail-waggers resumed devouring.
We were in the city now.
No signs of life in the dark, silent sprawl—but nearby bursts of intense gunfire echoed sporadically.
Tank rounds boomed occasionally.
"No drone?"
"Not yet. Anti-drone radar would just broadcast our position."
Drones weren't invincible.
War history had no perfect spear or shield; drones shone, so counters followed.
China made the most gear, America the best, Korea—as always—max efficiency on a shoestring.
Bee-sized recon drones trended once.
Korea countered with reverse-trace radars pinning drone counts and spots in zones.
If we couldn't outfly, hunt theirs.
"Where drones buzz, enemies lurk."
Words from an Army officer I worked with in Paju. He laughed.
If that's their doctrine, no need to risk it.
"People."
Cheon Young-jae murmured low.
He pointed to one of a row of studio apartments along the road—not a corner unit.
Hand signals: around the third floor.
"Civilians, probably."
A sniper would've claimed a rooftop corner for max sightlines.
Better safe.
We bypassed the building wide and hit the next point.
Defender's street: 500m out.
"..."
Too many buildings.
All bland, featureless.
Plus nightfall—which of these held Defender's hideout?
Worse:
"Lots of people. Scattered everywhere."
Civilians hiding in spots.
Not just them, though.
Fanatics or stranded soldiers could be desperate rats, waiting to pounce.
Even Cheon Young-jae's senses couldn't dodge every threat.
No path avoided people.
Main roads? Suicide.
Victors likely patrolled with APCs or tanks.
"Head to the rendezvous."
Unlike the hideout, the meet point was obvious.
A dime-a-dozen small building—but with a famous burger sign plastered on the first floor.
Confirmed no hostiles nearby, rested, and powered the communicator.
Protocol pre-set.
No voice—instead, phone remote app to noise the mic with interference.
Tsssh—tss—static—
Not super familiar, but three bursts: our "close, we're here" signal.
"..."
Waiting game.
Alive?
Or dead in the crossfire?
If gone, no shock.
We'd seen enough—how rare for normals to survive this nightmare battlefield.
Cheon Young-jae was silent.
Just drumming fingers on his crossed arms, faint impatience.
10 minutes passed.
I signaled him.
Another 10, then pull out.
He asked to wait more; I shook my head.
Defender promised replies in any scenario—within 10.
Time up.
No response another 10? They're dead.
Risk same for them or us.
9 more minutes ticked.
One last noise burst.
Nothing.
"Let's go."
As we turned—
Rustle.
Something small shifted beyond the wall.
Cheon Young-jae shook his head.
No person, Mutation, zombie.
We aimed ahead.
Click.
A round disc-like thing appeared.
"Robot vacuum?"
Cheon Young-jae eyed the odd noisemaker from the corner.
Literally.
A robot vacuum.
No clue why here, but who sent it? Obvious.
On the round plate: my other name, familiar.
[ SKELTON! ]
Da-jeong's handwriting.
A faint smile tugged at my lips, unbidden.