Number Four
The Number Society was famous. They were figures that almost everyone knew, despite having no fixed shelter of their own.
And no wonder—from the very earliest days of the apocalypse, they had stood leagues ahead of every other survivor.
The word Named itself had first been coined because of the Number Society.
People who had been called Named back when today's Named were still ordinary survivors.
The Named among the Named.
That was the Number Society.
They carried a mountain of rumors with them wherever they went, starting with their outfits, which were utterly bizarre.
Every one of them wore masks like something out of a tokusatsu hero show—full-face helmets that concealed their features so completely that nothing could be discerned beneath them.
And emblazoned across the brow of each mask, a thick, enormous numeral.
They were called the Number Society because each of them bore a different number.
Their clothing differed with the numbers, too. Most wore thick full-body spandex, the colors varying from one to another. Depending on their number, some layered armor over it or added a cape to express their individuality, but the base attire was always the same as a masked hero's.
The mask and the heavy full-body spandex.
That was why even survivors who had never met the Number Society could recognize one on sight. They were simply that distinctive.
On top of that, the Number Society never traveled alone.
The official members who bore numbers each commanded their own retinue—around ten subordinates on average—and the rumor was that every single one of those subordinates was a match for an ordinary Named.
And Won-goo knew full well that the rumor was no exaggeration.
The Number Society had been active even in the era before his regression.
"Anyway, get lost. This is no place for gnats."
Number Four said. The tall woman was draped in a red cape, and her voice rasped and boomed as if it were pouring out of an amplifier—far louder than any ordinary voice.
The Number Society had prestige, but their infamy ran just as deep.
Survivors who had dealt with them almost universally testified that the notoriety was deserved. Because unless you belonged to the Number Society, they treated you like an insect.
And even while being treated as insects, hardly anyone had ever truly stood up to them.
Won-goo was no exception. He had no idea how much stronger the Number Society had grown in the meantime, so he couldn't afford to move rashly.
Especially not when the one who had appeared was Number Four.
Number Four, dressed head to toe in red.
Even in his past life, she had been infamous for her madness.
Knowing her temperament all too well, Won-goo acted with that much more caution.
While Won-goo was running calculations in his head, Yeongyeong made the first move.
"We're the ones who had Taderson engaged first."
She stepped forward as she spoke.
"Hm? What was that?"
Number Four snorted with laughter at her words.
"No! Yeongyeong!"
"This is what gnats do, isn't it……"
Number Four extended her open palm toward Yeongyeong, and Won-goo was already sprinting toward her.
Yeongyeong, mid-step, halted. She tried to speak again, but the words never came—because a fireball came streaking at her.
It flew at nearly the speed of a bullet, far too fast to dodge. A fireball the size of a watermelon swallowed Yeongyeong whole in an instant.
"Kuuuaaaaagh!"
A scream tore out of her.
The same spell could produce wildly different power depending on the caster, and the flame magic Number Four wielded was notorious for spreading with unnatural speed.
As if someone had doused her in oil, Yeongyeong's entire body was engulfed in fire in the space of a breath.
Yeongyeong burned, writhing in agony. Everyone staggered back a step or two in shock—a purely instinctive reaction. Humans carried an instinctive terror of fire, a primal dread shared by nearly every living creature. Even facing a burning comrade, flinching backward for a heartbeat was something no one could help.
But in that very moment, one person advanced without a flicker of hesitation.
Won-goo.
He had known Number Four's temperament in advance, and he was prepared for it. And in that sliver of a second, he made the best judgment possible: to throw himself onto Yeongyeong.
"Fresh! Get on top of her, now! NOW!"
Even as the flames leaped onto his own body, he didn't hesitate for an instant.
"What?"
"I said get ON her! You little—!"
Fresh grimaced and threw himself onto Yeongyeong's body. Then the crew came running with bottles of water, dumping them out in torrents.
SPLASH! SPLASH!
The others were a beat slow to react, but they quickly joined in, helping smother the flames.
Won-goo, Yeongyeong, Fresh. The three of them stayed pressed together until the fire died, like conjoined twins.
Most of Yeongyeong's body was already charred beyond recognition, and Won-goo wasn't in much better shape. Fresh had burns as well, though nothing beyond what could recover. As an Enhanced Survivor, injuries like these would heal on their own given time.
The problem was Yeongyeong.
She was teetering on the very edge of death.
That was when Kiss stepped in. He forced open the mouth of the blackened, burned-out Yeongyeong and began chest compressions and rescue breaths.
Slowly, the breath that had nearly stopped in Yeongyeong's chest began to return.
Slap! Slap! Slap!
"Impressive. I have to give you this one. That's a first for me?"
Number Four clapped her hands as she approached. Everyone's eyes were bloodshot with fury, but none of them could move rashly. They couldn't even speak.
One spell had told them everything: the woman standing before them hadn't even been trying.
"What's your name?"
Number Four asked, pointing directly at Won-goo.
"……"
"Don't make me ask twice. Answer. Answer quickly. I'm in a good mood right now."
"Gong Won-goo."
"A little slower on the judgment and you wouldn't have saved her. That was impressive. You're the first person who's ever managed it. All this time, no one else has. They either weep and watch until she's nothing but white ash, or they throw themselves at me. Never once has anyone saved them."
"……"
"Creating a situation even I didn't anticipate—that's no small feat. So I'll give you a chance. A chance to come under me."
But Won-goo simply stood there, staring at Number Four.
"I know. Can't demand a choice on the spot. You've got baggage, I'm sure. Normally I clean that baggage up for you, but… unfortunately I'm pressed for time today. Two stops to make."
With that, Number Four cast a slow glance around the surroundings.
From the moment she'd opened her mouth, Won-goo had been signaling his crew. Prepare to fight at any moment. Because there was no telling when she might change her mind.
"Do you know hymns?"
"……?"
"Weary and faint, when fallen in despair… when there's no strength left to rise. Never heard it?"
Number Four sang the hymn in a lilting, mellifluous voice, without a shred of tension or gravity about her.
When Won-goo gave no reaction, she shrugged and produced a business card.
"Think carefully about that verse. That's what this is for—call me when you do. You know how to send mail, don't you?"
She held the card out, but Won-goo didn't take it. Number Four flicked it to the ground.
"You impressed me today, so I'll let it slide."
With that, Number Four turned and vanished. Her subordinates, dressed in similar garb, silently followed her.
The moment she disappeared from view, the tension snapped and everyone let out a huge breath.
"Hoooh……"
"Director Gong! Yeongyeong, she's——"
"She's alive. That's all that matters. I can bring her back."
"Right……"
"Pacific!"
"Already on it."
Before Won-goo had even finished speaking, Pacific had latched onto Yeongyeong and was driving in an IV line. He always carried a whole arsenal of drugs and supplies with him.
"Fuck…… what the hell just happened?"
"What do you think? We got played."
"Played?"
"Why would the Number Society come all the way out here? Seriously, why?"
"That's my point. We got played."
"Then explain it properly. Because I don't understand a damn thing about this situation."
"What did Number Four say when she showed up? Anyone remember?"
"Something like, 'Why are there gnats here?' Wasn't that it?"
"Exactly. Pacific!"
"Yeah."
"You caught on too, didn't you?"
"Yeah. I caught on."
Pacific's eyes went hard and cold. Then he spoke again.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry to all of you."
"You're a victim in this too."
"So what in the hell is all this?! Somebody explain it so a man can understand!"
Montage snarled, his irritation boiling over.
"Ganjeol Point double-contracted us. Set us up to be eliminated."
"Say what now?"
"Huh?"
"They must have figured that if we clashed with the Number Society, something ugly was bound to happen. And if we were wiped out? Ganjeol Point gets the perfect opening to expand its territory. The Black Shelter's gone too, conveniently—easy access all around."
"Those raving mad bastards……"
"Otherwise there's no reason for the Number Society to show up here at this exact moment. They're not the type to operate in this area. They showed up here, pointed, deliberate? That'd be one hell of a coincidence. Look at what she said when she arrived. She came knowing. She knew Taderson was here."
"Is Ganjeol Point really that connected? Connected enough to summon the Number Society?"
Fresh asked, and Montage stepped in.
"Might be somethin' to that. Both of 'em run around coverin' their faces. Ganjeol Point and the Number Society—connected, I'd wager. Now the pieces start fittin' together. Shit!"
"I thought so too. But it's more than just a connection. My guess is Ganjeol Point is a subcontractor or subsidiary of the Number Society. Their masks are a bit different, even."
"So when a nasty job like Taderson landed on their plate, they called headquarters for backup?"
"That's the quick way to read it. You saw Number Four's temperament just now. Ganjeol or whatever his name is—she's not the type to sweetly humor a request from the likes of him. More likely they told her the coordinates where Taderson was and she came herself."
"And she said she had two stops to make. So does that mean she's going around hitting up similar spots and cleaning jobs off the books?"
"Could be. Either way, we just took a full broadside."
"Pacific. You……"
The moment Fresh fixed Pacific with a hard stare, Won-goo cut in.
"Don't go stirring up grudges for nothing. Pacific had no way of knowing. We signed a contract, didn't we? And you saw what happened. One step wrong and we'd all be dead. If he'd known, you think he'd have led us there?"
"……Fair enough."
"Fresh, I won't blame you for doubting. It's a fact that I brokered this job. Which is exactly why I'm going to prove my innocence—properly."
Everyone shared the same thought. These were not men who would take a knife in the back and simply let it go. Ganjeol Point was going to pay, one way or another.
"Not now, though."
Won-goo took the fury boiling in the air and cooled it to ice.
"What?"
"First we take care of Yeongyeong. And this is Ganjeol Point's territory. We've got no plan for taking them on, no preparation. Fighting here, now, would be idiotic."
"So we pull back for now?"
"We take the long way back. Stay off Ganjeol Point's radar."
"As far as they're concerned, we're dead……"
"That's exactly how they planned it. Which is why—Montage, boss."
"Hm?"
"Your shelter, Ark. We head there. You can set us up somewhere quiet to lie low, right?"
"Can do."
"Good enough. Everyone grab your gear and pull back."
"What?"
"If we just leave, we'll leave a trail. You think those bastards are fools? They'd read a trail this obvious in their sleep."
"So?"
"We're going to make a trail."
Montage nodded. He knew Won-goo's abilities well enough.
"But can we actually make it to Ark from here? Can you guide us?"
"Montage's crew can. Right?"
"Plenty. That road they escaped through—the red bitch left her traces all over it, so I'll find the way myself. The rest, my boys here will lead you straight to Ark without a hitch. Nothin' to worry about. But…… will that girl hold out?"
Montage asked, glancing at Yeongyeong.
"Don't worry about that. Keep the IV running and she won't die."
So answered Pacific, and everyone nodded.
Then Won-goo raised his rifle. He switched it to flamethrower mode and sprayed fire around Taderson and the multinational survivors.
WHOOOOSH!
A powerful blaze swept over the forest. The flames that had refused to spread at first now raced outward in every direction.
"That should cover it. Let's move. Fast."