Load, Aim, Fire (5)
“James Lopez.”
Lopez's eyes snapped open. At the same time, he tried to unleash a tearing scream, but all that escaped his mouth was a hissing wheeze, like air leaking from a punctured tire.
He thrashed and gasped for what felt like ages before finally managing to swivel his eyes. It was deep into the night now, time having slipped by unnoticed.
As he turned his head, he caught sight of his own mangled body. His neck was barely holding together—trying to steady it was an ordeal in itself.
“It's just temporarily stitched on, so don't go moving around recklessly. I'm no good at sewing.”
Sewing? Now that he looked, the woman who'd spoken was indeed threading a needle through his neck.
Lopez was utterly dumbfounded, but he recognized her—the same woman whose skull he'd pierced clean through.
These people's true nature was growing more inscrutable by the second.
Only after she'd patched his neck enough to function could Lopez squeeze out a ragged voice.
“You... who...”
“We ask the questions.”
Lopez turned toward the voice. There stood Ju Kang-rim, clad in a traditional dopo coat.
The instant their eyes locked, Lopez's teeth began chattering uncontrollably. The raw terror from before surged back without warning.
Why the hell am I reacting like this?
Even as he wondered, Lopez couldn't make sense of it. He'd endured far worse atrocities, time and again. After countless brushes with oblivion, he'd long been certain of his immortality.
But these two were different. Eye contact alone triggered an alien dread that crushed his instincts.
“I... won't... die...”
“We know. Immortal, right? Spill it—who granted you that power?”
Lopez's eyes quivered. They already knew about immortality. Hell, they even grasped that it was bestowed by someone.
These weren't mere hunters. He clocked that much.
His mind raced to a single conclusion.
“You guys... immortals... too...?”
Ju Kang-rim and Yoo Wol-ryeong exchanged a glance. Ju Kang-rim flashed a crooked grin before replying.
“Bingo. Right on the money.”
“The elder... won't... sit idle...”
“And who's this elder?”
Lopez clamped his jaw and glared daggers. Immortal arrogance? Blind faith in the elder? Hard to say.
“Torture me... then. Go ahead...”
With sensation numbed below the neck, Lopez figured they'd get nowhere. What next with just a head left? A slap? Yank his teeth?
For an immortal, bodily agony was a blink—fleeting, meaningless.
“What now?”
“One more call.”
Yoo Wol-ryeong replied flatly to Ju Kang-rim's order.
Lopez puzzled over their intent, then flashed back to the searing agony when he'd first come to.
Right as he wondered its source—
“James Lopez.”
The voice was uncanny. No mere name-call; it thrummed with a vibration that rattled his very soul.
Agony exploded through him, shredding every inch.
No crude stab or slice—this was exquisite, razor-sharp torment, as if cells themselves were diced and wrenched apart. His body convulsed in it.
No blackout mercy.
“Know what's hitting you right now?”
Eons later—or so it felt—Ju Kang-rim dropped to a crouch before him.
“Saerichohun. Your soul's being ripped from the flesh. Normals? Soul pops out clean. Immortals? Spirit and body forcibly fused, or so they say.”
“Hah... heuk... wh-what...”
“Picture two dolls superglued unbreakable. Rip 'em apart by force—what happens?”
Ju Kang-rim pressed palms together, then yanked them wide in demo.
“Shatters to hell. Soul, body—both.”
Lopez wheezed, peering down. No regen, no clotting—chunks sloughed off in wet plops.
His face? Probably mush.
“We've studied immortal-slaying methods for ages.”
Yoo Wol-ryeong chimed in coolly.
“Each call shears off a third of your soul. You count? You know what's left.”
Wakeup call: one. Just now: two. Truth? One shot remaining.
Lopez got it now—that primal horror staring back from Ju Kang-rim's eyes. Death's forgotten chill, right there.
Lopez broke in the end. Loyalty stemmed from immortality's promise anyway. Useless now? No lips sealed.
“First—where're your goons holed up?”
Ju Kang-rim eased in with low-hanging fruit. Prime the pump for betrayal.
Trivial slips snowball; soon, forbidden intel spills. Cling relentless—point of no return dawns.
Sincerity irrelevant. Backend boss just needs to believe the leak.
Trained operative? Less yield. But Lopez's psyche crumbled swift.
“None... I'm solo.”
“None?”
Ju Kang-rim doubted. Roadside 'fake Lopez' handling screamed disposable troops. Life-on-line fib?
“I-I operate alone. Groups cramp my style...”
“Didn't look solo. Road shooter—no sub?”
“Ah, th-that was a Ghoul.”
“Ghoul.”
Ju Kang-rim echoed curt. Synonym for smart zombies. Archaic term till plague amped zombie smarts—now moot divide.
“Necromancy puppet zombie. My necromancy's weak, so precision over hordes.”
Ju Kang-rim's brain lit up.
Zombie control?
Necromancy puppeteering explained 'intelligent' zombies. Command-compliant = brainy facade.
Fake Lopez: case in point.
Zombie mastery? Known—necromancy awakening skill.
Knowledge-spread, not innate? Zombie playbook flips.
“Who taught necromancy?”
No “what's that?” from Ju. Ignorance to foe? Dumb.
Lopez stalled, cracked.
“The elder...”
Elder probe now? Shutdown. Deeper hook needed for more.
Necromancy intel: win enough.
“Your gig here?”
“...Hunting zombie hunters.”
Bull. Han Min-seong intel: transport op.
Lopez hunted him—thinks truth.
Ju Kang-rim mulled, struck.
“Nuclear backpack—stashed where?”
Lopez's pupils blew wide. Yoo Wol-ryeong shot Ju Kang-rim a rare what-the-hell glance.
“Gates pop, NK mess—US sneaks nukes peninsula-wide rumor mill. NK gate blows oversight. Brass dispatches Han Min-seong: yank nukes rearward, stat.”
Lopez shook head frantic, eyes jittering.
Ju pressed.
“Enter opportunist. Elder? Dying to know nuke backpack scheme. Hometown torched? Job axed? Lives snuffed? Prime real estate for some. Brass'd cream hearing this.”
NK gate-elder link? Nah. Chaos profiteers? Plentiful. Big fish plausible.
“N-no! Just scavenging ditched US base gear!”
Abandoned arsenal sane? Peacetime insider: cakewalk.
“Huh. No nuke backpack?”
“N-none!”
Credible TBD. Nukes off Ju's radar.
But base-looting crew with immortal? Note to self.
Momentum surged. Irreversible path for Lopez.
“Recap: Elder errands—base supply snatch. Han Min-seong snag en route. Explains bomb barrage origin. Destination?”
Lopez's face twisted worse.
Ju mapped routes. North Seoul roads trashed. Evac/hunter lanes only: here-to-Bukhansan vector.
“Namsan? Jonggak? Gyeongbokgung? Blue House too rich...”
“Gik... giiik...”
Lopez gurgled weird.
Ju snatched hand axe—too late. Thud. Body slumped.
Flesh-form Lopez blackened, reeked rot.
“What the actual fuck...”
Ju recoiled, face screwed. Yoo Wol-ryeong probed corpse stone-faced.
She fished crumbled lumps from rot-pile. Hardened black cores.
“Dead.”
“Yeah, duh... Immortal, though?”
“Unclear. Immortal cults hoard death-dodging lore eons. Betrayer kill-switch likely. Secret-spill auto-Saerichohun, maybe.”
Saerichohun specs per Yoo: brutal limits.
One: true name—what they deem real. Immortals swap aliases lifelong; shifts happen.
Two: loose flesh-soul bind. Healthy long-livers? Zero effect—even normals.
Immortals? Near-death setup required.
Three: flop cooldown day-plus. Target ghosts immunity window. Immortal-proof then—use wisely.
Two casts on Lopez already. Instant immortal-kill? Rare bird.
But soul-shredded now. Grim reaper undo? Nope. Afterlife? Zilch.
Yoo rose, eyed Ju Kang-rim.
“Well done, Grim Reaper Ju Kang-rim. First mission: clean success.”
📍 Target: James Lopez (Captured or Eliminated)