Chapter 346
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 346
Chapter Title: 140. Moment
140. Moment
The first snow had fallen.
It was just four years after the war began.
When the weather turns cold, spotting people becomes easier.
"Three to the north. Two to the west. One to the south. None to the east."
People start fires when the temperature drops.
But humans aren't the only ones who stand out.
As the snow blanketed the ground, anything without white fur popped into view starkly.
Mutations were among them.
"...Isn't that a wild boar herd?"
The wild boar mutation pack we'd occasionally seen in the south had apparently wandered up to the edge of our territory.
The small ones were the size of compact cars, and the big ones nearly as large as one-ton trucks.
At that size, our rifles might not have enough firepower.
As I pondered what to do, Bang Jae-hyeok showed up with a fine tool in hand.
"I can handle it."
Click.
"What do you think of this?"
It was an anti-mutation rifle.
True to its name, it was a slightly modified version of Baek Seung-hyeon's large-caliber rifle, tuned for mutations.
"Looks good."
With a marksman like Bang Jae-hyeok wielding high firepower, that boar pack wouldn't be an issue.
The real problem was the humans.
I let out a sigh and glared at the two plumes of smoke rising from the north.
Bang! Bang!
Rat-a-tat-tat!
Four years into the war, distinguishing between refugees and raiders was pointless.
Killing and looting anyone weaker or wealthier had become as natural as breathing.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Two refugee groups had set up temporary camps beyond the back mountain and had been in a meaningless standoff for the past ten days.
It all started from a utterly random, childish argument.
"Any K University alumni? Looking for K University grads~!"
Like the start of any absurd incident, the conversation between the two groups over the public frequency began cordially.
They'd probably tossed out the chatter to build some rapport when spotting an unfamiliar group approaching from afar.
"Oh, yeah. Class of '99. Philosophy major."
"No kidding? I'm from the law school. Class of '98."
"Oh, really? Wow, law school—you must've been a real brainiac."
"Haha, come on, no need to rank us—we're all alumni!"
Blood ties, regional bonds, and school connections were among the few reliable links left in this world.
Especially for strangers, bonding over surnames, hometowns, or alma maters wasn't uncommon.
Prestigious schools especially tended to stick together tightly.
Up to this point, there was no reason for these two groups to fight.
If anything, their alliance could've been a threat to us.
Each group numbered around fifty, family units armed to the teeth.
Honestly, we wanted them gone to Sejong as soon as possible.
Then the trouble hit out of nowhere.
"Man, I miss the cafeteria food at Wonheung Hall. On windy days like this, slurping up that oxtail soup with pickled radish broth made the whole day feel solid."
The guy who'd first called for alumni was just reminiscing casually.
Nothing to pick a fight over.
But the other side reacted differently.
"Wonheung Hall?"
The philosophy grad snapped back curtly.
A brief silence followed, then the law grad chuckled awkwardly and probed carefully.
"What about it?"
The philosophy guy replied soon enough.
"Wonheung Hall never had cafeteria food. Maybe Creation Hall, but not there."
"What're you talking about? I ate there for four years!"
"Which campus did you go to?"
"Seoul campus."
"Me too."
Bang Jae-hyeok, who'd been listening, chimed in.
"...Jeez."
He shook his head.
"One guy's straight-up lying."
Ha Tae-hoon beside him elaborated.
"Happens more than you'd think. Refugees faking credentials."
"Why bother?"
I asked out of curiosity.
"In a ragtag group of nobodies, a fancy degree gets you respect. People figure, 'Hey, good school means smart head—perfect leader material.' Something like that."
"Huh."
"It's common. Nobody wants to follow some total loser, right?"
Fair enough. I'd seen it firsthand playing doctor on Daram's site before.
Meanwhile, the radio chatter was turning ugly.
"I'm from Seoul campus too. Ah, whatever—let's drop it. Say that's true."
"What? You son of a—? You feed me bullshit and now 'let's stop'?!"
"Asabari kandapunku!"
"What the hell are you babbling?"
"Come on, fellow alum—you don't know the festival chant? Asabari kandapunku!"
"I was all study, no play. Straight from freshman year one semester into Sinrim-dong cram life for the bar exam—no time for that crap."
"Bullshit."
"Yeah? Want real bullshit?"
Ridiculous as it was, this sparked a no-holds-barred blood feud between the groups.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
They fortified positions, swapped small strike teams for firefights, probing for weaknesses.
The sporadic clashes continued even as temperatures plummeted noticeably—and now the first snow had come.
I'd hoped the snow might finally make these idiots call it quits.
Ha Tae-hoon disagreed.
"Won't end till one side's wiped out."
"Really? Over something this stupid?"
"...Looks like one leader's spot was built on that fake degree. You'd just back off?"
As Ha Tae-hoon predicted, the snow didn't stop them.
If anything, it ramped up the firefights.
Great that these unrelated groups were slaughtering each other—but their battlefield was creeping too close to our turf.
Started beyond the golf course; now inside it, even around the old airbase yesterday.
Both sides predictably launched drones, even pulling off a massive fire attack straight out of Romance of the Three Kingdoms once.
Gazing at the black smoke over the northern ridge, I called the team together.
"What do you think we should do?"
Time to poll opinions.
"No need to get involved."
"They're loaded and band together like ghosts at the first sign of weakness. No point showing ourselves."
"Handle it if they cross into our side?"
Consensus: watch and wait.
I agreed, so we observed.
As the fight dragged, both sides conserved ammo.
Switched from guns to crossbows dubbed "judge killers."
Defensive posture: hunkered in strong spots, waiting for the enemy to come.
Cold weapons ruled, but guns kept fronts from collapsing.
Bang!
That hollow evening shot ended the day's action; both groups lit signal fires.
They looked tapped out.
Probably some posturing, then a truce and retreat?
Casualties seemed light.
But the world doesn't play nice.
Especially not in this apocalypse.
Early dawn, Su spotted the boar pack.
"SKELTON. Those boars... circling near the people?"
Young as she was, Su had stood watch long enough in this ruined world.
She read situations sharp.
"...Waiting for them to tire out."
I nodded.
Agreed.
The boars would prowl till sure human firepower couldn't pierce hide or skull—then night attack, buffet-style.
Hated meddling in idiot fights, but intervention was right here.
Got team nods, then broadcast via K-walkie-talkie.
"Just passersby, but spotted wild boar mutations nearby. See 'em lurking past the frozen river east? Don't wanna be hog food? Cut the crap and head to Sejong."
Warning issued.
Refugees weren't total fools; hearing us, they jumped to peace.
"...Heard it? Saw 'em. Us too."
"...Yeah. Us too."
"Who goes first?"
"Together. We're all human, right?"
"Keep distance, move as one."
"Deal."
The long standoff ended.
Even idiots surviving four apocalypse years had the eye to gauge mutation threats objectively—and the flexibility to ally with near-cannibals.
Low casualties helped the quick truce.
No deaths, just three minor wounds by our count.
Groups moved with 400m gaps.
Rifles (likely empty), crossbows ready; handcarts in tow, they passed our turf toward Sejong.
Evening, Rebecca reported the boars trailing them.
Thought of relaying, but it was their known risk—would just expose us. Passed.
That night, southern firefight.
Flashes alone didn't detail it, but spacing, frequency, positions pointed grim: human vs. human, not mutation.
Sun up, dispatched drone.
Ha Tae-hoon's feed was brutal.
"Yep. Infighting."
Someone betrayed.
Agreed to go together, then night ambush.
Winner unclear.
Ambushed side seemed prepped; plus, our warned wildcard crashed the party.
Mutations.
Beyond carnage: unstoppable boar sweep traces.
Handful survivors fled south; rest dead or still.
Assembled team for site visit.
Not humanitarian rescue.
Salvage supplies.
Boars no joke—all hands but Rebecca and hers.
Key firepower: Bang Jae-hyeok.
Bundled in cold gear, anti-mutation rifle mounted truck-top, ready to fire.
Scene worse than imagined.
Bloodstains, flesh chunks, hair, torn clothes scattered gruesomely on snow.
At least a dozen-plus eaten.
Lucky: dead first. Unlucky: alive.
Uneaten corpses aplenty.
About twenty, spaced in big sprawls or at-attention stiffs—all eerily clustered.
"Mutation work."
Bang Jae-hyeok spat, muttering.
"Stockpiled for later."
Left Ha Tae-hoon and Bang Jae-hyeok on watch; checked bodies with Cheon Young-jae.
Could be playing dead, gunning for us.
"Here."
Cheon Young-jae's skill shone in sweeps like this.
"One alive."
Found mid-40s guy, broad stubborn face, spine snapped, face-down—awfully conscious.
"Hey, buddy."
Cheon Young-jae drew pistol, hailed.
"Want me to end it easy?"
Guy spoke.
"Help me. Please? Help."
Voice familiar.
Right—one from the dumb degree spat.
"Law school?"
Cheon Young-jae remembered too.
Guy nodded.
Cheon Young-jae smirked.
"Sir. No feeling in your lower half, right?"
"No. I do! I do!"
Lie.
Cheon Young-jae pressed greatsword lightly on leg.
Deep enough for screams—from able-bodied.
"We don't take healthy strays—why take a cripple like you?"
"Please. I got connections. Jeju ties. Sejong network! Yeah! Know King! Friends with King!"
Cheon Young-jae shot me a wry glance.
I nodded.
Left him, scoured area.
Scattered loot: some food, meds, electronics.
Guns crude, ammo handmade—no need; left one pistol, dumped rest on pile.
Torched bodies, scanned surroundings.
Mutations come? Slaughter all.
Sly boar watched from afar, then bolted into white wastes without hesitation.
"Now what?"
Bang Jae-hyeok asked.
"Ignore."
Ambush packs exist.
No need fighting on their bad turf.
"Pistol. Just one pistol—even one?"
Broken-hip guy begged in quaver.
Asked him.
"Who struck first?"
Held out salvaged pistol.
Planned to leave it from start.
Our sole mercy.
Watched his eyes for answer.
Bloodshot orbs darted, then fixed wide on me.
"...We did."
"Good answer."
Offered pistol.
"Don't unlock till we're gone."
Climbed truck first, called back.
Last on site: Cheon Young-jae.
Squatted before guy, gruffed.
"Who lied?"
Bang Jae-hyeok and I traded looks.
Figured the guy lied.
Not alum or not, third-party logic was flimsy.
Guy answered.
"Me."
Cheon Young-jae stood.
Fired engine, prepped to roll.
Guy watched us.
Eyes met; he spoke, resolved.
Pistol barrel to temple.
"In this country... admitting wrong is the real wrong."
Ignored.
"Get it? Owning your fuck-up—that's the true fuck-up!"
Absurd rant, but gist clear.
Bang!
Guess that's how the times are.