The Collectors
Gong Won-goo knew exactly how to bring a crowd to heel.
When you wanted to break a faction, you seized the head first.
With their former superiors—every last officer—smashed and dragged out before them, the rest gave up resisting. And with no one left to fight back, the situation transformed at a breathtaking pace.
Before long, the members of the Sabbath coalition had brought Shelter Slow under their control.
Montage, Fresh, and Won-goo gathered together. The other survivors were already bustling about with tasks. This was a shelter they had taken by force, and from this moment on, it belonged to them. They couldn't repair everything that had been damaged right away, but what needed doing had to be done.
The food storage especially was a place where problems could arise in the blink of an eye, so getting it back in order quickly was critical. Whether people understood that or not, several survivors had already swarmed the food warehouse and begun repairs.
One look was enough to confirm this had truly been a battlefield. In that brief, violent moment, Shelter Slow had been knocked beyond recognition from its original state.
"So the order is hands-off for now?"
"There's no need to touch anything. The way it operates differs from other shelters, but the basic systems are the same. To fully lock this place down, we'd need more people."
"So for now we just hold the entrance and turn away anyone who comes knocking?"
At Fresh's words, Won-goo nodded. "Yeah. Ganjeol Point isn't done with us. It's a coalition, so there'll be teams rotating out in the field. Drive those teams off aggressively, and for regular visitors, explain the situation politely and send them on their way. Keep that up and we're set."
"I heard there's a fair number of Ganjeol teams operating outside. You sure it's safe to split our manpower like this?"
Ganjeol Point had been an organization that ruled over a shelter all to itself, so naturally it had plenty of teams working the field.
"You're worried they'll come attack us here?"
"Well, yeah. I'm worried about your side of things, Director Gong. Everyone's going to know exactly what happened here. We've got runners who fled, after all."
"Fresh."
Won-goo looked at him with an expression that said he found this exhausting.
"Huh?"
"Get your head in the game. This is a shelter. Why would enemies swarm to it? If they do swarm, we just pull inside and seal the entrance. Done."
"Oh. Right. Duh."
"Why do you think we couldn't hit Ganjeol Point all this time? It was the administrators' interference. A shelter with light admin presence like this one—once you entrench yourself, it's over."
"Huh. I missed that one."
"You took too strong a dose earlier. Pull yourself together."
"I just zoned out for a second."
"Then I suppose we can assume the odds of this place getting attacked are nil. Wouldn't you say, Director Gong?"
"That's right."
"Well then, Fresh, wouldn't it work with just one of the two of us staying here?"
"No. It won't."
Won-goo's expression hardened again.
"Why not?"
"Ganjeol Point has numbers. What I'm escorting out are the officers including Ganjeol himself. The rest have to stay here, so we need a certain headcount."
"Fair point."
To sort out the situation, it was decided that Montage's and Fresh's people would remain at Slow. In the meantime, Won-goo planned to transport Ganjeol and the rest of the officer corps to Sabbath.
"We're on it."
That was Montage's answer.
"While you're here, take a good look around at what's inside. I'd bet they've hidden plenty. Coins, items. Ganjeol Point has been eating well off this place for a long time."
"Understood. Scavenging's the one thing we've always done right."
"That's why I'm leaving it to you, hyeong-nim. Fresh."
"Yeah?"
"There'll still be visitors. But don't go treating them too rough. This world's small. If they're survivors, there's no telling when or how you might cross paths with them again."
"Don't sweat it. One of Yeongyeong's sons has a gift for remembering faces. Says he can tell right off whether someone's with Ganjeol Point or not."
"That's a handy ability to have."
Slow had been a shelter run exclusively for Ganjeol Point. But it wasn't a place only Ganjeol Point's own people came and went from.
Merchants visited it, and survivors who'd purchased entry rights from Ganjeol Point came by as well. Anyone unaware of the situation might wander in without a second thought, and explaining things properly and guiding them along was the duty of the new owners.
"You think you'll hold up? You must be wiped out."
"I don't count fatigue at this level. This is urgent business. We need to wrap things up fast so I can take care of the Arctic Giant Domain too."
"You work too hard. By the way, Director Gong—would it be alright if I called over some of my folks from the Ark?"
"If they're already settled in at the Ark, is there really a need to call them here? This place is a mess right now."
"I was thinking of putting them to work."
"That's your call to make, hyeong-nim."
With that, Won-goo's crew exchanged farewells and filed out of Slow.
Won-goo's crew was escorting nearly thirty people.
The officers, with Ganjeol at their head. And beyond the officers, they had to move several figures who, while not officers, had held positions of real importance—which meant their pace was anything but fast.
On top of that, they couldn't ride comfortably in the Trailer the way they used to, so the journey was nothing but hardship.
Even so, not one of them voiced a complaint. For survivors, a trek like this was simply life. Plenty of survivors out there got around on nothing but their own two feet, without so much as a mount. By that measure, Won-goo's crew were, in truth, enjoying considerable privilege where travel was concerned.
The Field of today was nothing like the paved roads of humanity's past civilization. Almost everything was unpaved, and much of it was terrain so rough even capable off-road vehicles would struggle to enter it.
Yet Won-goo's Trailer crossed that brutal terrain without the slightest strain.
"How are you planning to divide up Slow?" Mu Beob-sa came over and asked. The rest of the crew were moving while keeping watch in all directions.
"We split it according to contribution."
"You mean transferring the shelter itself?"
Won-goo shook his head.
"You're not moving it?"
"Sabbath is far more comfortable to live in. We're not moving. And I plan to sell off our stake in Slow, too."
"Sell it?"
Pacific, standing beside them, perked up with interest.
"Yeah."
"Why would you sell that? It's about to become our cash cow!"
"You heard that phrase somewhere and now you're throwing around words like cash cow."
"What's your problem, Director Gong? I'm not as ignorant as all that."
"You're already rotten to the core, you punk."
"......"
"I share Pacific's view. Why do you say you will sell it?"
At that, Won-goo picked up his pace a little. It was a measure to keep a single word of the conversation from leaking out. His crew had seen this move of his many times before, so they quickened their steps in unison to match him.
Even when important matters were being discussed, Lee Hyun-sung would ignore everything and pour himself into whatever task he'd been assigned. That was exactly why Won-goo always entrusted important work to Hyun-sung. Even now, he'd given him the escort mission and the man was focused on that and that alone.
And this was a trust Hyun-sung held in Won-goo in return. Because he had absolute faith that if the information were necessary for him, Won-goo would tell him—his behavior was possible only because of that faith.
"Look, having another shelter to build on would be nice. A second one means extra income rolling in. But we can't forget why we came out here in the first place."
"Ah. The Taderson."
"Taderson!"
"Right. A Taderson showed up here, didn't it? I told you—that thing comes back from the dead. Stronger every time."
"Can we not simply kill it again?"
"We can kill it. But how long are we going to repeat that? Sooner or later it gets too hard. Then the Taderson expands its territory. And then?"
"Then Slow becomes a dung heap."
"It won't get quite that far, but it'll be a monster of a headache. So the smart move is to sell it at the highest price we can get and pour everything into Sabbath."
Only then did everyone nod along.
"What about the other crew, then? You're not going to tell them?"
"The others have probably figured that much out on their own."
"Haah... You really think everyone sees as far ahead as you do, Director Gong?"
"I should tell them anyway. They're people who'll be coming with us."
"You're full of surprises, you know that?"
"What crap are you about to spew now?"
"No, it's just... honestly, your reputation out there is absolute garbage. But watching you actually work, that's clearly not the whole story."
"Rumors are always laced with exaggeration. And that garbage reputation—there's some truth to it at a glance, so you can't exactly call it a baseless rumor."
"Unbelievable... Just insult me to my face. Why all the winding, roundabout talk..."
Mid-sentence, Won-goo's face scrunched into a scowl.
Because he'd spotted the silhouette of people on the path ahead of them.
Meeting other survivors out in the Field demanded wariness, no exceptions. The Field was a lawless zone inside a lawless world—an era where a survivor could commit robbery at will and face no consequences, so long as there were no witnesses and no evidence.
So of course they tensed up.
The moment Won-goo saw the survivors in the distance, he raised a hand and sent a hand signal. The crew froze mid-step. Lee Hyun-sung hurriedly brought over the binoculars, and in the meantime Won-goo had already slipped on A-One's Tinted Glasses.
The distance to the survivors was roughly a kilometer. Not far at all. At that range, they should have been able to see the figures even more clearly.
And yet a strange mist hung over the spot where the survivors stood. That was what kept them from getting a proper look.
Which meant stopping was the right call. Those shapes could be people—or they could be monsters wearing human form.
"Thanks, Hyun-sung."
"Not at all, Hyeong-nim."
Won-goo put on A-One's Tinted Glasses, and video data streamed into his mind.
"C18!"
The shout came instantly.
"Why are you suddenly cursing?" Pacific asked.
"It's not a curse, it's C18! Move, now! And you, Pacific—haven't you memorized all the signals yet?!"
It wasn't a signal that came up often.
C18!
It meant: get inside the Trailer as fast as humanly possible. Geum Chul-soo, Jo Mu-sa, and Su-won hurriedly dragged over the coffin holding Ganjeol.
"What is happening!"
"Those Seal Collector bastards! They're coming in for an attack!"
In the afterimage Won-goo had glimpsed, a collector studded head to toe with piercings was galloping toward them atop a massive hyena, riding like a madman.
And sure enough, the enormous hyena was tearing through the mist at a insane speed. Mounted on its back was Piercing of the Seal Collector Gang.
Wearing a smile that was half a screw loose.
Tududududuk!
And then black rain came pouring down around the Trailer.
In an instant, the world around them went dark. As if night had fallen out of nowhere. Everyone knew this was no natural phenomenon.
Sensing that something was deeply wrong, Won-goo made for the driver's seat.
He recognized them at a glance. Those were the infamous Seal Collectors.
How? Why? Why now? For what purpose?
None of that mattered. What was certain was that they were attacking. Which meant he had to prepare for it.
So he climbed into the driver's seat for the first time in a while, and the rest of the crew moved fast, following the practiced protocol without a hitch.
"Get Ganjeol in! Just Ganjeol! Forget the rest!"
The coffin holding Ganjeol was so thick and heavy that moving it was inevitably awkward. But Won-goo's crew were quick. The coffin slid into the Trailer at remarkable speed.
Kieeeeeeek!
Just then, the face of an enormous hyena loomed up out of nowhere. Up close, it was even more massive. Its head alone could have gone snout to snout with a brown bear.
"AAAAAAHHH! Director!"
Geum Chul-soo, who'd been pushing the coffin from behind, was bitten by the hyena right in front of the Trailer. The beast's jaws closed over him from his hand to just short of his elbow—and with its teeth still locked on, it began dragging the Steel Coffin backward.
"Heeheehee! Where do you think you're going?"
The pierced man astride the hyena cackled.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Jeon Hye-ji fired from inside the Trailer, and Jo Mu-sa thrust out his shock baton. Even then, the hyena refused to release Geum Chul-soo.
"Hyun-sung! Just cut the arm off!"
Lee Hyun-sung cut. He brought Huang Zhiheng's Chinese Cleaver down again and again on the bicep, hacking through it. In the meantime, the other crew members grabbed Geum Chul-soo's other arm and body, hauling with all their strength to keep him from being dragged away.
The hyena's strength was monstrous.
But the strength of Won-goo's crew was no joke either.
Thuk! Thuk! Thuk!
Each time Hyun-sung's cleaver fell, Geum Chul-soo screamed. At last, on the third stroke, the arm came free.
The hyena, which had been hauling with all its might, staggered backward, and Geum Chul-soo tumbled inside the Trailer.
Thung!
The Trailer slammed shut.