The Secret Beneath the Piano
“You okay with that?”
Han Jaejeong asked Lee Beom-sik.
He was inwardly concerned about dragging a kid into something like this.
It wasn’t particularly dangerous, though.
“Well… it’s true. People actually like it more when she’s around. There aren’t many kids in the safe zone. Just let us know when to gather, and we’ll spread the word one by one. Let’s do it that way.”
Everyone nodded at Beom-sik’s words, and Anna stroked Gaon’s head as she said,
“Aww, you clever little girl with those sparkling eyes. I thought you were just pretty, but you’re smart too.”
“Yeah, who’d she get that sharpness from?”
Lee Hyun-soo chimed in.
But suddenly, everyone’s faces hardened like stone.
Probably because of the “who’d she get that from.”
By the time Hyun-soo noticed the stares and realized his mistake, it was too late.
Gaon’s face had already darkened, on the verge of tears.
Her huge, deer-like eyes trembled painfully.
With eyes so heartbreakingly sad it could tear anyone apart, Gaon said,
“I take after Dad. People… said I do.”
Then she hung her head.
All eyes turned to Hyun-soo.
Anna’s gaze was practically lasering him.
Die, just die, you idiot.
That’s what it said.
The mood grew heavy in an instant.
Kang Youngman, watching Gaon especially, turned away as if he might cry.
Kang Minyoung watched her father and thought many things.
In her memories, Youngman had always loved kids.
Whenever he returned from deployment, he’d bring gifts for the neighbor’s children.
“Still…”
Gaon, head still bowed, spoke up again.
“Now I have Uncle and Auntie. Uncle reads me books every day and hugs me, so it’s okay. I don’t think of Dad much.”
Beom-sik silently hugged her.
It was an age that desperately needed parental love and attention.
An age to mimic parents’ actions and bask in their joyful smiles.
As always, peering into Gaon’s depths made Beom-sik’s heart feel like it was shattering.
Anna and Minyoung’s eyes reddened too.
Jaejeong, sensing the mood, cleared his throat and spoke.
“Alright. If that’s what Gaon wants, we’ll do it. She’s taking on the most important job, so her uncle must be thrilled.”
Whether from the praise or not, Gaon smiled shyly at Jaejeong’s words and hugged Beom-sik.
“Uncle looks scary. Like a talking gorilla.”
A soft ripple of laughter spread through the group, even as they wiped tears.
At that point, Jaejeong chuckled in disbelief before wiping the smile away.
“Alright, everyone scatter. Do your parts well until we meet again. If shit gets dangerous, don’t push it.”
“Wait a sec. Me too, just a moment…”
Minyoung spoke cautiously.
“Yeah. Speak.”
Glancing around at the group, Minyoung spoke with her hands tucked into her gown pockets.
“I don’t know how you all see the situation, but remember one thing. Our lives are on the line here. Our choices will change a lot—really a lot. One small action from any of us could come back as a huge wave. Please, be careful.”
Finished, Minyoung nodded to Jaejeong and stepped back.
Everyone nodded at her words.
They’d agreed to follow Jaejeong’s lead, but no one had felt the tension of what might come next.
Minyoung was reminding them of that reality.
“Then the old man and I will head out first. Don’t forget to grab some clothes from Anna on the way. Can’t look suspicious.”
With that, the group dispersed at intervals, grabbing clothes as they went.
* * *
The day after the president’s speech, expansion work began immediately.
Rumors flew early that morning about a meeting between the president and Congressman Kwon Jeong-woo, but no details leaked.
Just a bunch of rampant gossip.
The one solid rumor: they were definitely doing the landing operation.
Because of that, they weren’t discarding the now-unneeded outer walls but piling them up in Riverside Park.
For potential use in the second safe zone.
Jaejeong and Youngman went around clearing debris from buildings cleared by soldiers—anything that could pose a threat.
The rest of the group held their positions.
Meanwhile, Kim Chan-yeol and Choi Hoon—who should’ve been at the front lines hunting and killing infected—were walking inside the safe zone.
Thanks to their combined efforts.
Always at the vanguard taking the risks, they’d formally requested exclusion from operations.
The reason: Chan-yeol’s ongoing stress from missions causing nightmares and insomnia; he wanted rear rest.
Choi Hoon, recently promoted to sergeant but formerly corporal, emphasized he was Chan-yeol’s only trusted senior.
They could’ve been ignored, but the army accepted.
Among regular soldiers, few matched their skills.
For this final sweep of remaining infected, their absence wasn’t a big loss.
Plus, post-mission rewards had been lacking, so the mood favored it.
Thus, they swapped shifts with juniors for warehouse guard duty.
Their steps grew cautious passing the production zone.
As the warehouse came into view, their hearts wouldn’t settle.
Chan-yeol eyed the distant warehouse.
“Sergeant Choi, is it just me, or are we handling something really important?”
“Nah, it’s huge. Fucking enormous. ‘Cause I’ve never seen you this serious, senior. You too, right?”
“Yes, sir. What the hell’s inside? Never thought it weird passing by before.”
“Exactly. We weren’t supposed to think. But now we gotta. Sigh, Chan-yeol, I have a feeling…”
Trailing off, Choi Hoon continued gravely.
“We’re gonna find some kinda bomb.”
“If not a bomb, a ghost, sir.”
“Man, where do ghosts even come from?”
Choi Hoon scolded.
But Chan-yeol shrugged it off.
“C’mon, zombies exist—ghosts wouldn’t be weird.”
“Fair… fuck, nothing’d surprise me now. But damn, don’t jinx it. Ghosts? Suddenly gives me the creeps.”
Reaching the fence hiding the warehouse, Choi Hoon grumbled.
“Huh? Scared, Sergeant Choi of all people?”
“Scared? Just uneasy. Felt off since kids started rumors about ghosts here.”
“But now, even if a ghost yapped right behind us, we wouldn’t hear. Too noisy over there.”
Chan-yeol muttered toward the expansion site.
It was true.
Endless gunfire and construction roar echoed from beyond the old wall line.
“Feels different hearing it from afar.”
Choi Hoon said, like it was novel.
“Oh, and tower folks’ movements checked out. That congressman and the doc left with the president for operation viewing.”
“Good. They’re gone?”
“Probably.”
Their eyes drifted to the tower.
Thinking someone might’ve watched from those countless windows gave them chills.
“Let’s start.”
At Choi Hoon’s low words, they vaulted the fence to the warehouse in seconds.
Choi Hoon casually patrolled, lighting a smoke, while Chan-yeol swiftly unlocked and opened the door.
“Open?”
“Yes.”
Inside, they flicked on lights and scanned.
Too tense, maybe.
Aside from junk, the empty warehouse made their legs weak.
“What the fuck? Why’s it empty?”
Choi Hoon cursed.
“Yeah, sir.”
Only a piano in one corner and scattered junk.
“Wrong warehouse? There’s three, right?”
Chan-yeol peered into the void.
But Choi Hoon thought differently.
“Maybe…”
“Let’s get out quick, sir. Makes me uneasy.”
Locking up, they stood at the fence, smoking gravely.
“Sergeant, doesn’t this make us look weird? Need something to report.”
“Ugh… yeah.”
“Where’d kids hear ghosts? It’s empty.”
Choi Hoon crushed his cig, lit another, silent.
“Might’ve missed something.”
“Like what?”
“We’re following them, so grab anything. Even snap a piano leg.”
“Got an idea?”
“Open it again.”
Back inside: Chan-yeol watched the door; Choi Hoon reached the piano’s center.
Clunk!
Lifting the lid spewed black dust.
“What’re you doing? Why the piano…?”
Chan-yeol asked, baffled.
No answer.
Choi Hoon’s fingers struck keys; dusty notes echoed.
Once, twice, thrice.
“C’mere, hold it.”
“Huh?”
“Grab the piano.”
“Ah, yes, sir.”
As Chan-yeol approached, Choi Hoon counted to three on fingers, shifted it aside.
Then tilted his head at the plywood beneath.
“What?”
“Weird.”
“What exactly? Be precise.”
“Sound’s off. Like it’s hollow underneath—echoes down. Didn’t you notice? Quieter than it should be?”
He tapped the plywood.
“Not sure. Outside’s too loud.”
“Nah. My little sis played piano nonstop pre-enlistment. This space? Should be louder. Let’s move it.”
Now suspicious, Chan-yeol helped shove the plywood.
Revealing…
A dim space below.
And stairs sucking them into the dark.
They stared at each other, silent.
“Wh-what is this?”
Chan-yeol’s voice quavered thin.
“What else? Stairs. Flashlight.”
“W-wait. We going down?”
“What, leave now? After seeing this?”
“Fuck, insane. Why’s this in a warehouse?”
“How should I know? Quit whining, lead.”
“Why me?”
“Just go.”
Pushed, Chan-yeol stepped down.
Click!
Flashlight on.
Infected People