Gift
Jeong Jiyu, daughter of Baek Jinsook of the Rooftop Market.
She was feeling a mild nausea from the chaos spinning around her.
To her, Cheon Siwoo had been nothing more than an older brother she knew—someone who armored himself in either cynicism or excessive cheer.
What could have happened in just a few days?
She had recognized him by chance—his bare face after the helmet came off, the axe he always carried—but looking at the gown soaked in dark crimson blood, the mismatched shirt, and that grotesque red arm sprouting from the stump where his left arm should not have been…
To her, Cheon Siwoo was no different from a stranger.
Yet whether he was familiar or foreign no longer mattered. Even if she had to appeal to old affection, even if she had to offer her own body as payment, she only wanted her brother and mother to come back unharmed. For that, she had already steeled herself for murder.
With that resolve, she tightened her grip on the machete and walked the corridor toward the faculty office—
—only for her eyes to chase after Siwoo’s back as he suddenly bolted from beside her.
That was the last moment before everything dissolved into pure confusion.
Ignoring Jiyu’s stunned stare beside me, I charged straight at the bastards. We had already gathered enough people; there was no reason left for stealth.
I spread my left hand as wide as it would go. The writhing muscles in my palm stretched open like a beast’s maw.
“What the fuck is that…!”
“Human fir—”
Kwaak—
The face of the guy on my right was seized by my grip; his whole body was shoved backward.
Kung—!
Using nothing but the raw power of my left arm, I drove the back of his skull hard into the faculty-office door.
“Rrrgh…”
I released him. He slid down the door with unfinished words still on his tongue and collapsed. The other one stood frozen in disbelief; I aimed for his shoulder and brought the axe down.
Jjeok—!!
“Kyaaaaah!!”
Huh. That sound was wrong.
Even though I had swung with my right hand, the blow landed hard enough to surprise me. The axe punched straight through the door panel and carved out a chunk of the man’s shoulder. Blood sprayed across the window glass; the axe jutted out the other side of the door.
I hadn’t meant to hit that hard. Maybe dredging up old memories had sent blood roaring to my head and I got carried away without noticing.
Either way, I slipped my left hand into the crack of the open door and, feeling vaguely embarrassed, eased it wider. Suppressing every curse that wanted to escape, I offered a long-overdue greeting to the man waiting inside.
“Long time no see, Lee Hyoseong.”
The door swung open on Hyoseong’s face—and his bare torso.
“You fucking bastard.”
I choked back every other filthy word trying to claw its way out.
There used to be a shonen manga I loved. In true shonen fashion the protagonist and every companion got swept up in power inflation until they became ridiculously strong. One of those companions took that absurd strength and used it to legally thrash ordinary people, raking in wealth and fame.
Summarized like that it sounds cheap as hell, but only I understand him—because I’m living that exact feeling right now.
How the hell did he put up with it?
Chad-haem, how did you even survive?
“…You’ve changed a lot, Siwoo-ya.”
I stared at Lee Hyoseong standing in front of me. Every instinct screamed to leap forward and pulp his face, but I am a civilized man. I attempted dialogue—the first step of problem-solving.
Yeah, long time no see, Hyoseong-hyung. Looks like you’ve been well. Nice to see your face again.
“You gay bitch.”
“Pfft.”
Jiyu, still standing blankly behind me, could not suppress her admiration for the opening line of this highly intelligent conversation.
I dragged my left arm forward, carving a fingernail-shaped trail of still-wet blood across the floor as I closed the distance.
“Siwoo—Cheon Siwoo—why are you here?”
Baek-ajumma, who had been on her feet, poured out shock at the sight of me. Her clothes had slipped slightly; I frowned, caught her shoulder, and forced her back down onto the seat.
“Still no sense of hierarchy, you brat. Same as ever.”
“You should’ve changed a little.”
“Do you have any idea how badly I wanted to find you?”
“I don’t even want to know.”
Sharp words flew back and forth. The air felt ready to explode into drawn weapons at any second. Hyoseong must have sensed I wasn’t backing down; the perpetual upward curl of his mouth flattened as real tension finally settled over him.
“Fine. Let’s try this thing called conversation. What do you want?”
He was the first to lower his tail. His eyes raked over my left arm with blatant wariness.
As expected, Jompari’s performance is rock solid.
I didn’t feel like starting a riot just yet either, so I dropped roughly onto the sofa.
“You’re the ones forcing people from other groups to bring supplies and kidnapping them?”
That was the first thing that needed settling.
“Watch your wording. We never ordered them.”
“What?”
“We simply said that if they brought a reasonable amount of supplies, we would take them somewhere safe. As proof we showed them a handful of new goods. People chose for themselves.”
“What’s the point? This place isn’t exactly overflowing with surplus.”
That was the world now. Self-production had become nearly impossible; supplies were finite. The more people you gathered, the faster everything vanished. Fuel burned away, neglected machines rusted, factories stood silent. Power and water had been gone for ages. The only reason anyone had lasted a year was that the population had thinned enough to slow consumption—not that consumption had stopped entirely.
“…You’re still looking for it, aren’t you? The Shelter.”
At Hyoseong’s words, both Jiyu and Baek-ajumma behind me turned their gazes on me. Surprise filled their eyes, but mine never left Hyoseong.
“Why bring that up all of a sudden?”
“A few days ago, soldiers came to us.”
“…”
“They brought supplies so clean they made ours look like trash. This is one of them.”
He took the radio from the muscular man beside him and shook it at me. It was identical to the brand-new unit I had pulled from the bag of the muscle zombie I killed in the apartment.
“We never asked where they came from or what unit they belonged to. We only called them soldiers because they wore the uniforms. Beyond that we know nothing.”
“What kind of bullshit is that?”
“They told us that if we handed people over, they would give us supplies. It wasn’t even a proposal—more like a notice.”
“Bullshit. So you actually handed people over?”
“I lead a group too. How could I send our own people? The arm bends inward. That’s just nature.”
Hyoseong pulled a cigarette from the drawer and stuck it between his lips. The muscular man beside him produced matches from his pocket with practiced ease and lit it.
“They can produce supplies—unlike this place that’s drying up by the day.”
“So what? Why would they ever accept you? You’ll just get used like a sucker.”
“If we do the work well enough, we can at least make proposals. It’s a pain, but what won’t you do to stay alive?”
His eyes drifted shut. Thick smoke curled slowly from between the lips that held the cigarette.
How much simpler life would be if the world were pure black and white. When a heart is black, white still hides inside; when it is white, black is never far away.
Hyoseong opened his eyes again, as if recalling something, and drew a gun from beneath the desk, leveling it at me. Jiyu’s and Baek-ajumma’s shoulders jerked.
A small silver revolver—the kind police used to carry.
“Still don’t get it, Siwoo-ya?”
“Get what? Spit it out.”
“Facilities that can produce on their own. Brand-new supplies.”
“…”
“Yeah. Those soldiers might have come from the Shelter—the place you’ve been hunting for.”
He smiled. He must have felt the tiny tremor in my breath. Hyoseong had always been a ghost at catching things like that. He knew better than anyone how the word “Shelter” made me waver.
“I was planning to kill you, but after seeing that arm I changed my mind. How about joining forces again?”
“…You’re asking me to team up again? After all that shit?”
Hyoseong scratched his temple with the gun barrel. His eyes were more sunken than when I left this place; no life remained in them.
“Getting to the Shelter was always the goal, right? I’m saying I’ll help.”
“I’m not doing jack shit with you again over something unconfirmed and uncertain.”
“Then what if I say I’ll kill that ajumma and the girl behind you?”
“Go ahead. You think hostage games work on me?”
The barrel swung playfully between me, Baek-ajumma, and Jiyu. Then Hyoseong suddenly burst out laughing as if something had just occurred to him.
“Pfft…! True enough. You were the same with Yerim.”
“You fucking bastard—”
I couldn’t hold it anymore. I stood from the sofa and raised my left arm.
“You were exactly like this when Yerim got bitten. Don’t you miss it?”
Taang—!
The barrel snapped toward me; the trigger was pulled without a shred of hesitation. The bullet flew.
Pwak—!
I threw the raised left arm up like a shield. The round buried itself in the arm instead of my body. The stench of gunpowder filled the air. The bullet did not punch through.
“Oppa! People at the door!”
“Siwoo-ya!”
We were close, but the gun was the real problem. One shot blocked—could Jompari stop a full volley?
Maybe the whole conversation had been nothing but a stall for time. Either way I had extracted plenty of information; no real loss.
“Heup…!”
I dropped low and swung the left arm upward from below, flipping the desk in front of Hyoseong.
Jjenggrang—!
The desk soared, blotting out his vision. While he ducked, the desk kept flying, smashed through the faculty-office window, and vanished outside.
“Ajumma, Jiyu—run!”
While I kept Hyoseong occupied, Jiyu was already holding off the muscular man with her machete.
Kwang—!!
“Aak!!”
“Those bastards are running!”
I grabbed the two women, slammed my left hand down with everything I had, and blasted the door and the people behind it out of the way as we burst free.
If only it weren’t for that damn gun…
Even while fleeing, my teeth ground together in frustration. Jompari was a cheat-key, but the rest of me was still ordinary flesh. Baek-ajumma was in front of me, Jiyu behind me. Damn it all for getting attached.
I had pulled us out, yet the name Hyoseong had spoken kept echoing, feeding fresh rage.
“Ajumma—where’s your son?”
“…At the gym. He said they make him fight in a place called the gym.”
I could guess what they were using the gym for. What kind of timing was this to open a fighting pit?
“Since it’s come to this, I’m going to do as much damage as possible before we leave. That’ll make me feel better.”
“…Oppa, what did you just say?”
Jiyu asked as if she had misheard. I ignored her.
“Fuck, right her—”
Chwak—!
Sprinting down the corridor, I swung the left hand and split the skull of the bastard who popped out opposite us.
“Follow me.”
Watching a human head come apart that easily, both Jiyu and Baek-ajumma sucked in a sharp breath.
In the faculty office Cheon Siwoo had overturned and abandoned, dawn wind poured through the shattered window and circled the room.
“…Hoo. Where the hell did that bastard pick that thing up?”
Heat still lingered in the gun barrel, but Lee Hyoseong paid it no mind; he pressed the muzzle against his own temple. Looking over the now-empty space where the desk had been, he turned his head toward the window.
“What should we do?”
“Seal the main gate. Send two men to the warehouse and bring out the gift.”
“…The gift? We’re using that?”
“Don’t forget the drug for its head.”
“And the gym?”
“Just leave it. Nothing but plunderer trash in there.”
His mouth twisted upward again. He had never expected Siwoo to join him anyway. All he wanted was to fuck the man over. They had been together; they had been closer than anyone. That was exactly why the hatred ran so deep.
The school that once set rules and spoke of hope. Leisure bred crime; restrained desire only called forth greater desire. Hyoseong had answered with punishment that grew more thorough and more extreme by the day. The people who stayed with him should have understood. When they said they were leaving, betrayal and humiliation had made him grind his teeth until they nearly cracked.
There was no grand revenge for the people, no righteous cause. Only pure personal spite remained—a childish fight.
—Waaaak!!
—Fuck him up! Tear him apart!!
—Yaaaah!
I sprinted along the left side of the school, cutting across as close as possible to the gym. Fortunately we reached it without further trouble.
“…This is the first time I’ve hurt this many people.”
“Same here.”
I offered Jiyu a half-hearted agreement. It was the first time I had directly injured so many people in a single day as well.
—Hold on!! Hold the fuck on!
The gym doors were shut, yet the roar of the crowd still leaked through.
“So your son is fighting inside right now.”
“According to what they said…”
“Minu-oppa… will he be okay?”
So the son’s name was Minu. Since Jiyu was a Jeong, that made him Jeong Minu. If I was going to rescue him and cash in the favor later, I at least needed the name right—especially if I planned to squeeze Yohan-hyung for everything he was worth.
Kkiik—
No time left to wait. I shoved the gym doors open.
The first things that hit me were the thick reek of sweat and the wall of heat. It was roughly twice as bad as the stench that used to fill a boys’ high-school classroom after consecutive soccer matches through lunch and PE with nothing but a change into gym clothes. In other words, toxic.
—Puck!! Peok!
Rough impacts. No need to search. Shirtless men had formed a wide circle; two figures fought inside it. More accurately, one was getting the absolute shit beaten out of him.
Swollen, bruised eyelids; a caved-in nose; a mouth torn open and streaming blood. The sight ripped a scream from Jiyu.
“Oppa… Oppaaa!!”
“What the—some bastard making a creepy girl voice—”
“A girl?”
In this sausage-fest of a society the men zeroed in on the female voice like bloodhounds and swung their heads toward the source.
“Oh… fuck, what day is it today?”
“Two women? Tsk.”
Their speech patterns felt familiar—plunderers, every last one. Whether the school had gathered them intending to trade even plunderers, or the plunderers themselves had simply set up a fighting pit here, I neither knew nor cared.
“Open a path and I’ll take your oppa out.”
“Uh—okay!”
“Siwoo-ya…”
They were so blinded by the sight of women that the monstrous left arm didn’t even register. Jompari had just been demoted by a pair of girls.
I swung the arm immediately to reassert the hierarchy.
“Uh fuck what is th—”
Kwang—!
The plunderer who had only just started to look puzzled at the left arm found his head seized and driven straight into the floor. The hard wooden boards cracked deep; blood and brain matter began to pool.
“…Fuck.”
The rest froze. I had no time for them to process. I swung the axe in my right hand.
Jjeok—!!
The blade buried itself halfway into another man’s neck. For some reason the strikes had been landing a little heavier than usual since earlier, but I filed that away for later.
“All of you move, you sons of bitches!”
Once the second victim dropped, the remaining plunderers finally grasped the situation and scrambled backward. The circle broke. I yanked the axe free and grabbed the nearest body.
“Uh—uhh?!”
“Not moving?”
Now I was swinging people like clubs. I seized the plunderer’s arm and whirled him in a wide arc, herding the circle of men into a single clump.
Udeuk, deudeuk
“Kyaaak!!”
The arm I held twisted with a wet, merciless crack. Meanwhile Jiyu and Baek-ajumma, who had actually listened, used the chaos to drag their son free—
Wait, what?
Why did he look fine? Wasn’t the guy getting pulverized supposed to be the son?
“Siwoo-oppa, let’s go! I brought Minu-oppa!”
Tall—easily 190 cm. Hair slicked neatly back. Not a single mark of being hit except a faint redness on the chin.
How the hell does someone’s hair stay perfect after a fight?
The man called Minu gave me a short bow.
“Ah… yeah.”
I returned a dazed nod of my own.
Hwiik—!
Kung—!
“Uwaak!”
I finally hurled the plunderer I had been using as a weapon and we burst out of the gym.
Kgigigik—
To keep them from following, I bent the door handle with my left hand and jammed it deep into the gap.
“Hoo…”
“…Thank you for rescuing us.”
“No—let’s talk once we’re clear.”
We weren’t safe yet. Reunion and gratitude could wait. We cut straight across the playground toward escape.
…It’s quiet.
I had expected pursuit. Halfway across the field, no one was coming after us.
Just letting us go?
Possible. But Lee Hyoseong would never simply let me walk away.
Kung kung kung kung—!!
“Kihiieeek!!”
Fuck. Of course.
Heavy footfalls thundered in the distance. Something closed on us from behind at terrifying speed.
Kwaak—
“Eok!”
“Oppa!”
“Siwoo!”
Something yanked the nape of my neck just as I tried to accelerate. I stopped dead. Looking back, I found my left hand buried in the dirt—completely against my will.
“Jompari, you bastard—Jiyu! Ajumma! Just go! It’s fine, go!”
I had no idea what the hell this thing was doing. It used to move on its own when it sensed danger. Now it had suddenly planted itself in the ground and was holding me hostage like a tantrum.
Kungkungkungkung—!
A red shape appeared at the far end of the playground. It closed the distance, running straight at me.
“…Another mutant.”
The bulk was enormous. Its reddish skin cracked like dried keratin. The head seemed sunken into the shoulders and torso, creating the eerie illusion that it had no head at all. Massive body, filthy tall—exactly like a mutant.
“Keureureureu!!”
Despite its size it launched off the ground and came down toward me like a falling mountain.