Chapter 290
Chapter 290
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 290
Chapter Title: 117. Neighborhood Issue (2)
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About thirty uninvited guests.
Men and women, even kids mixed in.
No old folks.
Sixteen able-bodied men, all armed with firearms.
An assortment of guns—carbines, standard-issue military rifles, even some old North Korean models.
No heavy weapons or noteworthy gear.
They'd set up camp at the golf course overnight, then immediately dispatched expedition teams of five each toward the old U.S. military base.
That explained why they were here.
The golf course was just a temporary camp; their real target was the military base.
No vehicles in sight.
Even a kid around ten years old was lugging a heavy backpack, so they must've come on foot.
"No radio chatter all night?"
"Nah, nothing."
We hadn't sent any transmissions.
They'd just shown up unannounced in our territory and planted themselves there.
A bit of distance from our base, sure, but effectively in the same zone.
And they were sharing our water source.
That stream wrapping around the base below was a key resource for them too—we'd be crossing paths often.
First thing in the morning, I called everyone together.
"We've got some annoying visitors."
I'd hear out opinions, but coexistence wasn't on the table.
We didn't need neighbors.
The crew gathered under the camouflage tent in the clearing's center.
Not everyone pipes up just because we're together.
Some folks hate talking.
Those types usually just listen, only speaking if something totally unacceptable comes up.
Bang Jae-hyeok was like that.
A loner by nature, he was quiet overall—chatty only when needed. But on this, he had nothing to say.
Ha Tae-hoon and Cheon Young-jae stayed neutral. They preferred adding to or tweaking others' ideas over starting fresh.
Defender was the one pushing hard.
And his take? Predictably straightforward and one-sided.
"Talking won't work."
Like always, our Defender assumed killing.
"Harsh as it sounds, one side's gotta bulldoze the other. Even if we sit tight, they'll come at us eventually."
He clapped loud enough to echo, then gripped his left fist with his right from above.
"In the end, one has to go."
Short version: kill 'em all.
Frustratingly, Defender had a point.
It's that kind of world.
I caught Cheon Young-jae and Ha Tae-hoon exchanging glances.
Same rookie class as Defender, but Cheon vibed more with Ha Tae-hoon—similar outlooks.
"Killing them all would be convenient, sure."
Cheon spoke up.
"But taking out that many isn't easy."
His "not easy" went beyond combat difficulty.
He meant the women and kids in the mix.
If my eyes weren't lying, there was even a pregnant woman.
Incheon hunters didn't hesitate on kills, but they weren't mindless butchers.
They distinguished targets, showed mercy when they could afford it.
And they had that luxury.
Less supplies and freedom than us, maybe, but they'd lived under some government structure, drawing pay.
Couldn't say they faced less danger, but they hadn't been utterly abandoned like us, thrust into every-man-against-every-man survival.
Same apocalypse, different scars.
Me and Defender? We'd scrapped tooth-and-nail on bare ground just to breathe.
"Once fighting starts, picking and choosing who to kill gets damn tough."
Defender jumped back in.
"Even if we only hit combatants, the survivors get handed to someone else. Hope those others show mercy."
He finished, eyes shifting to me like a judge awaiting verdict.
Glanced at Ha and Cheon.
They looked pissed at his words but couldn't counter.
They'd never seen beggar hunts.
Might've witnessed pioneer squads dragging off elders, but not the ends.
Heard tales of raiders storming bunkers, hauling out folks and loot—but never put themselves in those owners' shoes.
Heavy silence fell, eyes turning to me one by one.
"..."
Leader's call.
I wouldn't dodge it.
Felt their stares, then spoke quietly.
"Like I said from the start, no plans to play nice with them. Hong Jeong-ho's right—impossible. Might get chummy short-term, but not forever. Ends in blood."
My gaze hit Cheon and Ha.
"Doesn't mean fighting's inevitable. Other ways exist."
The buck stopped with me, but snap decisions had limits.
We wrapped by agreeing to observe the intruders for now.
"Such naive thinking."
Defender muttered passing me.
Probably at Ha and Cheon.
Spot on.
Too soft by our standards.
But their feelings mattered too.
Their views had value, reasons.
I didn't see softness as pure weakness.
People need lines you don't cross.
Blind efficiency? Sure, quick wins—but then what's the difference from those DSAs?
"..."
No brilliant ideas, though.
Patrolled the perimeter slow, hunting a masterstroke. None came easy.
Sat zoning out by the bunker, watching clouds drift. Someone approached.
Middle-aged woman in practical work clothes.
"Park Gyu."
Bang Jae-hyeok's mom.
We'd nodded hellos, but not close.
She mostly farmed, shared her foraged and prepped greens with us.
Defender siblings refused, but I ate mine—nothing special, but added green to bland meals.
"Heard from Jae-hyeok. Those people causing trouble?"
"Yeah."
She's crew, but personally? Neutral. Only here because of her son.
Lately clashing with the Defender siblings.
That was my take on her.
"Overstepping, I know, but can't we talk it out?"
She stared steady.
"Impossible."
"Why?"
Irritation spiked, but I held it, explained.
"Survival's on the line. Not fixed by chit-chat. Coexistence? Off the table."
"I see."
Displeasure laced my tone, apparently.
She stepped back, gauging me.
Hoped that ended it.
"Then can't we just scare them off?"
She tried again.
"Make 'em pack up and go?"
Ridiculous, but I kept cool.
"I'll think on it."
"Please do. We're not murderers—no need to kill. You might not get it, but folks scare easy. Not everyone's like you."
Bitter smile, ducked into the bunker.
"Scare 'em off, huh..."
Easier said.
If viable, I'd jump.
But how?
They'd run from gunfire?
Kill and display one to terrify 'em into folding camp?
No clue.
They'd weighed risks, angles to settle here—stakes like ours.
A casualty or two? Already budgeted when they ditched last spot for this trek.
They wouldn't budge for deaths.
Any more than I'd abandon my turf forever.
Frustrated, hit the boards.
First, Jeju's Red Archive forum.
"..."
Tap tap tap.
Grabbed a random pic of a game girl from the Red Archive folder—fox-eared, pure vibe today.
"..."
Tap tap tap.
Seemed like dumb bait post, but crucial groundwork.
Pulling out the "Skeleton" emoticon angel now? Too risky—board's named, but a marked man by the mods.
So, ease "NoSpendNewbie" into named status gradually.
For that fateful day, when he carries a key role.
Simple ritual done, hit our board.
Familiar nick topping popular: newest darling.
"Hm?"
Curious, clicked Anonymous1936's post.
Not the type to resolve easy.
Server lag from issues—waited for load, guessed outcomes.
"..."
First guess: familiar fix.
Murder.
Fastest, surest despite headaches.
Sad our fresh newbie turned like us? Yeah.
Content loaded.
Pics galore—scrolled quick.
Finger paused, reversed scroll.
"Hm?"
No blood, no bodies like expected.
Abandoned camp, life's traces only.
Eyes hit end text.
Anonymous1936's play: scare tactics.
Late night, he and crew snuck near the neighbor base, unleashed hellfire.
Specifically, positioned buddies all around for 10 minutes of skyward blasts—gunfire echoing everywhere.
Enough to taste death in 10 minutes, then they pulled back to watch.
Paid off.
Terror-struck intruders packed dawn-early, ditched the zone.
Clean win.
Even jaded vet like me? Fresh shock.
Some grumbled, though.
Prime example: neighbor slayer Keystone.
But I leaned toward newbie's view.
Felt like I learned something.
More like, his post sparked a forgotten piece from my past.
*
Plop—
Ha Tae-hoon's mortar belched a round with a cartoonish puff.
"Think that'll make 'em bolt?"
Defender sounded skeptical.
Grinned, peered through binoculars at neighbors.
Boom!
Shell burst near camp.
No casualties.
Expected—but neighbors panicked wild.
Extras amped it.
Vrrr—
Da-jeong's drone.
She never showed outside, radioing pissy.
"This do anything?"
"It will."
"Skeleton, you gone soft~?"
Her mid-size drone buzzed perfect spot—visible altitude, neighbor-friendly speed.
Shouts carried over.
"Drone!"
"Recon drone!"
Bang! Rat-tat-tat!
Shots rang, but drone zipped east.
Then.
"Who is it? Who's doing this?! Who the hell?!"
K-walkie first caught neighbor voice.
Terror in it—I sensed victory.
No replies from us, just a couple more barrages.
Next dawn, pre-light, intruders packed and peaced out.
Flawless.
Four mortar rounds chased near-thirty refugees.
Watching Defender left, muttering.
"Lucky."
Echoed Keystone.
Might be.
But remember: not everyone's a weathered survivor like us.
Not everyone sees the world our way.
What seems obvious to us might baffle others.
Case in point.
We'd bet lives on a fight; they picked flight—unthinkable for us.
Different eyes, different fixes.
We forget that easy.
Especially "experienced" types like us.
"Try one."
Bang's mom brought a plastic tub brimming cucumber pickles.
Tested one.
"Tasty."
She smiled eyes crinkling, moved on.
Called after her.
"Don't share with those guys."
She turned, grinned silly.
"Won't even if they beg."
Found her answer, huh.
"Where do you think they'll go?"
She eyed the departing group.
"Who knows."
Chuckle, snagged another cuke.
"Somewhere."
They've got thoughts.
Different from mine—maybe incomprehensible.