What They Want, What We Want (2)
In the middle of the vegetable garden. I stood there, feet planted firmly in the soil. Felt a bit bad for Halmae, Ye-eun, and So-eun who'd put in all that work tending it, but right now, it had to be trampled. I glanced to the side.
Outside the garden. A crowd had gathered, buzzing with chatter. The new women and men who'd just arrived were drawn in, making it pretty lively. I drew my sword.
Shring—
Over there, Han-tae was holding a box of almond chocolate balls, and Su-hyeon was filming me with her phone. I said,
"Toss 'em."
"Yes, bro!"
Han-tae flung the chocolate balls upward.
Shower—
The chocolate balls sailed through the air toward me. Acceleration.
Auto-cast: Acceleration
Han-tae frozen mid-toss, the crowd's faces, the clouds overhead—all halted. No, slowed to a crawl. I looked ahead. Twelve chocolate balls drifting lazily through the air. I stepped forward, slicing through them one by one. They spun like they were on a Ferris wheel, cleaved clean. Next.
In an instant, I whipped through, slashing every last one, then lightly sheathed the tip of my blade. Acceleration ended.
Twenty-four pieces of chocolate ball rained down around me left and right.
Plop plop plop.
I sheathed the sword fully. Shring—click.
The crowd's faces were a mix. Those who'd seen me do this before looked a little overwhelmed. The new women and men were witnessing my swordplay for the first time—shock and awe painted across their features.
"...You get it?"
Su-hyeon beamed, nodding vigorously. "Yeah. And... cut. Good work, oppa."
I grinned and walked over to her through the garden. "Lemme see."
As I approached, the new folks flinched and backed away. Guess it was that shocking. Whatever.
Su-hyeon showed me the video. There I was, standing. Drawing my sword.
"Toss 'em."
"Yes, bro!"
Han-tae tosses the chocolate balls from the side. Twelve of them fly. Then—I vanished. Almost formless. No feet visible, no hands. Just a black afterimage from my hair lingering like smoke. Not even moving much. Just standing there, leaving trails. The sword catches the sunlight, flashing like stars everywhere in a blink. Then, I reappear.
Plop plop—suddenly way more chocolate balls pour into the garden, plain as day. I sheathe the sword. Shring—click.
"...You get it?"
"Yeah. And... cut."
Hmm... Not bad at all.
Su-hyeon grinned. "Send it? To that number?"
"Yeah."
"Got it~."
I nodded and turned to the crowd. If things went well with the government, I might have to leave this place for a while. I looked at them and said,
"Everyone, we've got work to do starting now."
They all looked at me. Simple job: fortify the building. The shutters were mostly done, giving us basic defenses, but we couldn't skip contingencies. First, rip out wood and materials from each floor to reinforce every window and glass wall from the fourth to tenth floors. No loud, bright welding—use silicone and heavy-duty adhesive from the mart's second-floor hardware section and third-floor warehouse. Prep to block the stairs too. Pile up unused desks and chairs into barricades, sealing off stair access completely. Desks and chairs have decent gaps. Stack 'em right, and two or three skilled riflemen posted on the landings above could headshot anything blocked below. Bodies pile up into a hill—a natural wall. Eun-seo was pretty good with the bow. If she could shoot guns too, perfect.
Finally, the rooftop door. Use a cutter and tools to make a hand-sized hole, reinforce the door itself with supports. Saw a YouTube vid—those things climb buildings, trampling each other. Remembering them grabbing helicopters on the roof was nightmare fuel. That's what this was for. Sturdy iron door, new braces and supports, peephole: one rifleman could hold it ironclad. Spot a face, shoot. Or lob a grenade.
Reason for fortifying? Prep for shit hitting the fan while I'm gone. Just hold till I get back—I'll handle it then. No clue how much I'll level up out there, how strong I'll return, or how I'll fight upgraded. But one thing's sure: growth means stronger. Zombie waves are hundreds of thousands, millions of human beasts. If disaster strikes, a million rounds wouldn't cut it. Reinforce everywhere, kill at doors and stairs, stack corpses—that's solid defense. These folks just need to survive till I return. Best if nothing happens, but prep anyway.
To that end, move most mart goods upstairs. Seventh and eighth floors as warehouses. Everyone mobilized. With the zombie wave blacking out outside, no need to motivate—survival meant work. They scattered to tasks; I sniped the wave from the roof with my bow.
Wave hit over ten days ago. Daily sniping put me at level 75. One more push for the next specialization.
That afternoon, government called.
"Yeah."
"Hello. This is Special Forces Team 2 Leader Seong Gyu-hyuk. Are you the one with the sword, as shown in the video? Sender said Han Sung-hoon."
Stoic voice.
"Yes, that's me."
...Special Forces?
"707?"
A low sigh. "707's gone. 707, UDT—all special ops wiped out. Didn't you hear?"
Ah. Human beasts erupted everywhere in units. Training buddy or messmate turns, bites—no elite survives that instant. Some fought back maybe. But they're not human. Stab throat, heart—no death. Head only. In chaos, popping heads on swarming ex-comrades? Warriors are human first. Only psychos could. Military's fucked.
I nodded. "Heard. And about forming new special ops—from the Chief of Staff. That why you're calling?"
"Yes. Saw the video. Still can't believe it. We train greatswords—no one wields like that. Not edited?"
I chuckled. "Nah. I'll show you sometime."
"...Understood."
Then Jun-hyeok and Hoon-i climbed up. "Sung-hoon. Rice first..." They shut up seeing the call. Obvious who at this point. They approached. I switched to speaker, reading their faces.
"—but when can you join?"
Hoon-i and Jun-hyeok's eyes sharpened—got it from few words. I said,
"Problem is, zombie wave's taken our area. Can't move."
"...Ah, the zombie wave."
Jun-hyeok piped up. "Why not burn 'em all?"
Phone: Seong Gyu-hyuk. "Set fire? Got napalm or white phosphorus?"
Jun-hyeok shook head—unseen. "Uh, no napalm..."
"Don't burn then."
Jun-hyeok startled, looked at us. "Why?"
Seong Gyu-hyuk sighed low. "Guess you don't know. We've flown recon over Seoul. Waves mostly natural. But can be artificial."
...Artificial? News to me. Never observed.
"Your wave's from Gangnam beasts. Know how it started?"
Jun-hyeok shook head. "No."
"Survivors foolishly set them ablaze."
Jun-hyeok blinked at phone. Seong Gyu-hyuk: "They're not human. Fire doesn't kill easy. Only way: cook the brain fully. Needs more than gas or Molotovs."
I muttered, groaning. "...Napalm, white phosphorus. Got it."
"Yes. Charred skin doesn't mean cooked brain. Alive brain, they move. So no point without those. Plus..."
Gulp. Water sip. "Fire makes them scream, rampage. Different noise. Draws every monster nearby. Burning one hit a gas station, exploded. Boom—Gangnam wave. That's your horde."
...Fuck, dangerous as shit. Already deadly, but fire turns berserk. One rampages into a shop, ignites—whole block goes up.
...Dodged a bullet not tossing Molotovs blind.
Jun-hyeok's eyes widened, lips stretching. "No fire."
Seong Gyu-hyuk sighed. "Yes. Don't."