Mutiny Aboard
West Sea off the coast of the Republic of Korea, aboard the Ulleungdo.
Captain Kang Jin-hyeok stood on the deck, gazing out at the distant sea.
It had been several months now since they'd been stationed in the West Sea.
In the old days, this time of day would've seen soldiers pounding the vast deck for physical training.
But now, hardly anyone came out for fresh air—the familiar bustle was a thing of the past.
The ship's atmosphere is doing its part.
That was Captain Kang Jin-hyeok's thought.
Everything had changed after the president was rescued.
More precisely, after the bag containing the president's serum.
That was the root of it all.
Comrades who'd shared life and death turned on each other, splintering and regrouping by faction.
The result? The ship had turned insular, now slipping into outright chaos beyond control.
And food supplies were dwindling fast.
Truth be told, they could've dropped boats into nearby waters and made contact with Yeouido to fix the food shortage.
But some didn't want that.
Put simply, the pro-China voices aboard had straightforward logic.
Why take the hard road?
Leverage the serum to sail for China—they'd integrate into the Chinese military or whatever, safe from the virus either way.
Second issue: fuel.
Did they have enough to load up people from Yeouido and still reach China?
Fuel could be scavenged in Seoul, sure, but it wasn't easy.
If it were, that many people wouldn't have died.
They had a point, really.
Turning toward home waters meant way more risk and sacrifice.
Might even end worse.
But ditching Yeouido now would doom the safe zone survivors to being trapped on the peninsula forever.
Undeniable fact.
Kang Jin-hyeok had held the line with that argument; the opposition countered with their two points, unyielding.
No resolution in sight.
Footsteps approached from behind as he stared at the waves.
"Captain. Here?"
"Yeah. What?"
His junior officer saluted, climbing the stairs.
"President wants you."
"Why?"
"Gotta see him yourself. Won't say."
"Right."
Kang Jin-hyeok nodded, wincing at the crashing fatigue.
What now?
He was wearing thin too—clashing with officers, bickering with the president.
Felt pointless.
Knock knock.
Entering the cabin, he faced the president sitting bolt upright.
Always that posture.
Never a slouch.
Should've been a soldier, not president.
As thoughts swirled, the president shoved the bag forward.
"This…"
"Serum. You handle it, Captain Kang."
"Pardon?"
Kang Jin-hyeok's eyes bugged out.
Sudden change of heart?
Why hand over this powder keg now?
"Why the sudden…?"
"Me holding it changes nothing. Force comes, I hand it over. Better give it to someone who agrees with me."
Kang Jin-hyeok hesitated.
Passing the one hot potato.
Shifting debate, decisions—everything.
But then came trouble.
Word spreads it's with him, not the president? Opposition erupts.
That was the play.
Worsen things, force his hand.
He knew.
Take this and…
Staring at the bag on the floor.
"Captain Kang."
"Yes, sir."
"I'm Commander-in-Chief. Right?"
"Yes."
"Order: Guard this bag. Turn ship for Yeouido, take me there. No more waffling."
"You mean…"
President cut in.
"Half the crew still obeys me, no? You got half the men, serum as leverage, my order as cover. More needed?"
Then.
Noise outside hit their ears.
Human, definitely.
Kang Jin-hyeok snapped.
"Who!"
Knock knock.
Door creaked open slow.
Junior officer with big mole by nose peeked in, flustered.
Relief sighs.
His junior.
"What?"
"Sorry to interrupt. Galley says food's bottoming out. Rumors flying about this—need plan."
"…Got it. Wait out."
"Yes."
No full salute or name, just spoke and slipped out quiet.
Tension drained.
Involuntary sighs.
"Answer, Captain. Believe Korea lives? Obey. Else, your call."
Eyes on bag again.
"Backlash'll be brutal."
"Know. But president's order's your shield. Now."
"…Yes, sir."
Resolute, he grabbed the bag.
Right.
Can't delay.
Limits everywhere—wait, risk spikes.
Force if needed.
No deaths, though.
Weapons first, seize bridge, isolate opposition quick, sail for Yeouido.
Bridge secure, seal paths, broadcast key info.
Plan locked.
Not new.
Imagined endless times.
Hoped it'd never come—hated guns on brothers-in-arms.
Turning, he froze.
Door ajar.
Closed it coming in.
Junior's visit flashed.
Nagging doubt, but mistake—out to corridor.
Soon after.
Heading for juniors.
Bang! Bang!
Sudden shots.
Shock on face.
Pistol, clear.
Bang! Bang-bang! Bang!
Shots chaotic now.
Two-way fight.
Why now?
Assess first.
Up stairs to deck—nearby footsteps.
Hid fast.
Ready to take down.
Another junior emerged.
"Captain!"
"What the hell!"
"Dunno details, but that bag. Hide now!"
But…
Private prez talk—how'd they know?
Guns drowning thought.
Fight or die.
Bag on arm.
Pistol out, ready.
Junior rounded corner.
Slammed to wall.
Bang! Bang!
Body bucked pinned, bullets tearing.
Blood soaked shirt.
Witnessing death, veins bulged in eyes.
Footsteps corridor—two exact.
Dropped bag quick.
They unaware.
No other way that pace.
Crouched out.
Two officers gaped at muzzle.
Late.
Bang! Bang!
Two clean.
Twitching, down for good.
Bridge now.
Broadcast fast—situation update.
Living troops prep at least.
But deck ascent—hide again.
Outside done.
Twilight sky dimming post-sunset, juniors knelt lined, heads down.
Familiar faces before.
One stood out: mole-nose junior from prez chat.
"Where's Kang Jin-hyeok!"
Juniors silent.
Then.
Bang!
One's head burst hot brains, crumpled.
Worked.
Some begged mercy, death-shocked.
Couldn't bear.
No mercy, serum or not.
Take one down dying.
Eyes crimson.
"Fuck."
Mag swap, curse muttered.
Rush out? Dead.
Sure dead.
Still, heart raced, no calm.
"Hoo…"
Deep breath, peek—eyes lock last kneeler.
Comrade from junior days, long haul.
Tears in sealed lips.
Head shake.
No vain death, not like this, live—do something.
Message clear.
Gun hand shook.
Die tempting.
No shame.
Knew better.
Can't die pointless.
Honor deaths—he knew how.
Agonized, then stairs down.
Tears blurring—rage? Grief?—raced to prez cabin.
Bang open!
"Right now…"
Words failed.
Prez coatless, pipe gripped, face steel.
"Rough idea. Plan?"
Eyes met, intent clear.
"Live? Move now."
"Go."
Silent dash narrow halls.
Situation forced manual well-deck open, speedboat.
Luck: all on deck, path empty.
Well opened.
Prez aboard—footsteps.
Hesitate.
Can't solo-send.
Drive alone? Disaster.
Back aboard, bag to prez.
"Moment."
"Why?"
"Straight out? Bullet sponge. Clear tails first."
Prez bit lip silent.
Powerless.
No gun, no fight.
Wait dumb.
Gunfire erupted.
Rat-a-tat!
Footsteps—Kang aboard.
Speedboat sliced black night sea.
Kang's face drained pale.
Infected People