Chapter 11: The Dog's Bark
Lee Beom-sik stepped out slowly.
In that moment, as if electricity was surging back into the blackout-stricken building, the lights flickered on—only to begin dimming again soon after.
The power was sputtering erratically.
Under the drab fluorescent lights, Beom-sik stood there in his black shirt and dress pants, like a scene straight out of a movie.
He didn't approach, just stood rooted in place, staring at the two men.
His gaze was fixed on them, but his eyes lacked sharp focus.
Like someone deep in thought.
"Old man, just one question."
"Ask away."
Kang Youngman nodded.
He didn't mind how Beom-sik addressed him.
There was no malice in it.
The world was full of far ruder bastards.
"You just said the world's gone to shit like this."
"Did I?"
Youngman furrowed his brow.
Maybe it was his age, but his memory blanked out sometimes.
"Anyway, what of it?"
"I met that thing at the hospital. Fled from there and made it here. So I don't know jack about the outside. Is it just this neighborhood? Just Seoul? Just Korea? Same for you, old man—you came from your buddy's gun shop. So how do you know? What's your basis for saying the whole world's turned like this?"
Beom-sik laid it out methodically, like ticking off points.
"Never said it was definite."
"Your tone implied it. Anyone hearing that would wonder the same. Except maybe that bear over there."
"Hrmph..."
Han Jaejeong started to interject, but Youngman's grunt cut him off first.
"Fine. Let me ask then. In all your lives, have you ever seen anything like this?"
"In movies, yeah."
Beom-sik recalled the zombie flicks he'd glimpsed on movie channels.
"Exactly—movies. Ever seen it for real? Probably not. No, definitely not. Know what that means?"
Jaejeong and Beom-sik stood mute, waiting for his next words like they'd swallowed honey.
"No manual. There's no playbook for this. Even on battlefields with bullets flying and bayonets carving flesh from bone—it wasn't like this. This is beyond us."
"Come on, those things aren't invincible... What, the army's just sitting around? In a world that builds nukes, they can't handle those freaks? You sound like ex-military—way too pessimistic."
Jaejeong let out a hollow chuckle, but Youngman shook his head.
"That's why I know better. Believe me. You know how many special forces and riot squads we have? If the system's still alive, why leave the capital like this? This isn't just any city—it's Seoul, the heart of the Republic of Korea. What nation lets its capital rot for gain? The longer it drags, the worse the losses. If it's just us, just Seoul like you say, they'd clean it up unless they're insane."
"But... isn't it some virus? They could make a vaccine."
"Innocent for all that looks. You know how long it takes to whip up a vaccine for a brand-new virus with zero intel? Minimum six months, could be years. By then, everyone's dead—who do they test on? And those things? They're already corpses. Didn't you see the news? Rotting from head to toe—you think a vaccine revives that? We'd all have to be Jesus."
Youngman clucked his tongue in frustration.
Then Beom-sik, who'd been listening quietly, spoke up.
"If you're right, old man, isn't your auto shop the same? Everything's done for—why hold out? Wait for government rescue or whatever?"
"A sliver of hope—that's worth chasing. I pray I'm wrong. You without kids wouldn't get it. If the world my child inherits could be better, I wouldn't fear sacrificing myself. That's what kids are. So don't look at me like some doomsayer."
"So... because that sliver might be real, we head to your shop and see."
Youngman nodded at Beom-sik's words.
"Good. Any more questions? Burning thoughts? Save 'em for later. Above all, I need a wash. So much sweat... Better hurry before those things swarm back."
"Agreed. And from now on..."
Jaejeong, boarding the elevator, extended his hand toward the door.
In the hallway, Beom-sik stood frozen, staring at his own hand.
"We're a team. Got it?"
Beom-sik blinked, then gripped the rough, massive hand and stepped in.
The doors slid shut, and the three stared silently at the glowing floor numbers.
3rd floor, 2nd, 1st.
Jaejeong twisted his mangled protector back into place and hefted his sledgehammer.
Beom-sik followed suit, wrench at the ready.
Even if most infected had chased the chopper, stragglers might linger.
Shhh—
The doors parted.
The first thing to hit was the stench stabbing their noses.
Jaejeong and Beom-sik reflexively pinched their nostrils.
Stuck on the roof, they'd had no clue about the ground-level reek.
Youngman, though, remained unfazed.
The smell of rotting human flesh and gut-churning blood? Nothing to him.
Along the long passage to the street, chunks of flesh and severed body parts littered the floor in gruesome detail.
The horror turned even Jaejeong's stomach—he'd seen plenty of corpses from murder cases.
None of them spoke.
Or rather, words failed them.
The silence was as vicious as the stench.
An unbelievable stillness smothered the entire city, crushing them.
The absence of civilization's hum and human chatter hit harder than expected.
Jaejeong swallowed dryly.
The world really felt ended.
Stepping fully outside, a cool dawn breeze swept over them.
Treading the sidewalk, they froze, scanning the surroundings.
A cityscape devoid of monsters or people—no signs of life at all.
Torn flesh and body parts as common as the cars clogging the roads.
Dawn was breaking, but from down here, it looked nothing like the view from above—like it belonged to someone else.
Youngman's pessimism made sense now. Why he'd said the world was like this.
"Sightseeing over? Let's move. Linger too long, and we'll end up like that."
Youngman brushed past the dazed pair.
Jaejeong and Beom-sik opted to follow without a word.
What good would talk do?
"See that sign at the end? Hill road's just behind that building. Pick up the pace."
Youngman pointed to a spot along the endless boulevard and quickened his steps.
The group kept glancing around like they were in VR, unable to stop.
Signs still lit despite the sun. Cars wrecked everywhere, ownerless.
Shoes and hats of unknown owners.
Bloody handprints screaming the panic of infection.
Half a day.
The whole city had fallen in less than that.
No explanation but unprecedented virus strength.
"Ha... fuck, this make any sense?"
An infected's caved-in skull was impaled on a shattered security grate.
Beom-sik cursed at the thing wedged between car and building; Jaejeong frowned.
"What?"
"Thought we'd see at least one live person spot us from the street and come down."
Jaejeong stayed silent.
Truth was, he wasn't alone in that hope.
But reality was too quiet.
If survivors dotted the area, you'd hear windows opening at least.
Jaejeong scanned slowly.
Thousands of windows.
"They're hiding somewhere. Alive."
That was all he could say.
Forcing words of possible survival felt like grasping at invisible hope.
Then—
A faint jingle from somewhere halted them all.
Maybe because it shattered the deadly quiet.
It rang out impossibly loud.
Youngman squinted.
The bell in that silence sounded ominous.
Familiar chill.
He knew this premonition of doom from decades in hellish wars.
Hard-earned wisdom.
From the dark shadow of a building backed by sunlight, the source emerged.
A puppy.
Fluffy white fur—lost its owner recently.
Tempting to pet, but no one moved or called out.
In ruined cityscape, the pup looked utterly alien.
What to call it?
A shard of everyday shattering unreal reality.
But that tiny, cute dog hit harder than expected.
Spotting the trio, it barked suddenly.
Woof! Woof!
Dog barks echoed through the silent street.
Bouncing off pavement, walls, opposite buildings—endless reverb.
One pup this loud?
Then weird howls mixed in.
All high-rises around.
Under mercilessly clear sky, unknowable roars spread.
The three chilled to the bone.
Left—sounded right. Behind—front. Like heavy-echo mic.
From beyond buildings, between them.
Endless.
Directionless—no blind flight.
Youngman gripped his machete, unmoving.
He spoke calmly.
"Don't look around. Echoes overlap—can't pinpoint. Stay calm, pick one direction, focus."
His heavy voice pierced their ears.
They focused without panic.
Jaejeong tilted his head slightly, pointing left with a finger.
A glass-walled building.
Beom-sik pointed at the one where the pup appeared.
They locked on their spots.
Then the frenzied pup heard the roars, tucked tail, and vanished.
"Goddamn mutt shows up and bails."
Youngman spat irritated curses—
Just then, a human shape appeared at the edge of the pup's building.
Like rounding a corner too fast, it slammed into a roadside car.
Dent deep in the door.
But it popped up unfazed, charging the three.
Even in building shadows, its horror was clear.
Black-rotted face, crimson eyes.
Drool streaming from its maw.
Perfect infected.