Silent Boarding
Late at night, aboard the Ulleungdo ship on the West Sea.
An officer stood at the edge of the flight deck, smoking a cigarette.
The dark night sky above him was packed with stars, beautiful enough to take your breath away.
Gazing down at the black ocean, the officer suddenly recalled the days when the fleet was still intact.
He'd originally been part of the escort fleet guarding transport ships.
Right after the virus outbreak, they'd received orders to return to home port and surrender, so the entire fleet had gathered at the harbor.
But that had been a massive blunder by command.
Infected had slipped in among the returning troops, and the port turned into hell in an instant.
Most of the fleet's sailors died there, and only the survivors had barely managed to set sail.
The problem was the infected who kept turning up afterward.
Unlike the immediate mutations from bites or scratches, infections from bodily fluids on wounds took time.
Some didn't change even after blood touched their wounds, while others mutated in seconds.
But the soldiers couldn't just toss a comrade overboard or shoot him over a minor cut.
Not when it was a virus no one had seen before.
Some tried to find a way around it, while others put down their brothers on the spot.
In the end, ironically, the very humanity meant to protect people had led to their downfall.
Only a fraction of the fleet's survivors made it onto the transport ships unscathed.
It felt strangely melancholic to think months had passed since then.
They had fuel, but no destination—just endless drifting on the sea.
Thinking back to the bloodbath sparked by the president's serum made his head throb.
How many nights had he spent wide awake from nightmares?
He couldn't forget the faces of those who'd died that day.
Every time they dumped a body into the sea, it felt like they'd become pirates themselves.
Is this right?
In the end, the serum vanished, leaving the few remaining soldiers to slaughter each other.
They couldn't defect to China now, nor stay in the homeland.
Opinions were still divided aboard the ship.
Of course, the majority favored storming the safe zone by force to reclaim the serum.
But was that truly the right call?
Why not just give up everything and submit to the safe zone, living together?
The officer lit another cigarette, his face clouded with conflict.
Then, a strange noise came from behind him.
"Ugh……."
Frowning, the officer focused on the sound.
It was someone groaning in pain.
Tensing slightly, he scanned the area quickly.
Nothing.
Did I imagine it?
There'd been no one up here when he'd climbed up.
"Urgh……."
The sound came again.
"Who's there?"
This time, it was clear.
The officer called out reflexively.
But silence reigned around him.
The noise was coming from behind the transport helicopter.
Even the moonlight that had lit the area was now shrouded in clouds, plunging everything into thick darkness.
The officer approached the helo, hand drifting toward his pistol.
No, what am I thinking?
The ship was fully under their control.
On this silent sea, there'd be no need for firearms unless an intruder somehow appeared.
Besides, who could find them out here in the middle of the ocean without a sound?
Assuming someone was hurt, the officer hurried around to the back of the helicopter.
And sure enough.
A soldier lay prone, clutching his ankle.
"What the hell? What are you doing here?"
Recognizing the silhouette, the officer rushed over.
"You hurt?"
"Yes, sir. Could you help me up?"
"Yeah, sure. But why are you soaked like—"
Shlick!
The officer couldn't finish.
As he reached to help the fallen man, a blade appeared from nowhere and slashed his throat.
"Gurgle! Gurgle!"
The officer collapsed, clutching his neck against the spurting blood, thrashing wildly.
The clouds parted, and the moon shone bright once more.
Under its glow, dark figures began to emerge one by one.
The soldier who'd been groaning and holding his ankle shook the blood from his knife.
More soldiers appeared behind him.
The officer's eyes bulged at the sight of their faces.
He reached toward the lit bridge, but it was too late.
"Long time no see."
Stab!
Jeong I-jin greeted the man who'd recognized him, then drove his blade into the officer's chest.
The officer convulsed once and went still.
Leaving him behind, Jeong I-jin and the intruders rushed toward the bridge.
* * *
At the same time, in the safe zone.
Han Jaejeong walked the streets alongside Lee Beom-sik.
After a while of silence.
Frustrated by Jaejeong's wordlessness, Beom-sik spoke first.
"Why'd you call me out?"
Jaejeong remained silent.
"What's with you? You drag me out here and now you're quiet as a mouse?"
No answer again. Beom-sik gave up and just walked.
How much farther did they go?
When they reached a park overlooking the Han River, Jaejeong finally spoke.
"Gaon's gotten a lot brighter."
"That's what you dragged me all the way out here for?"
Beom-sik snapped.
"Good thing you're doing right by her, though. I was worried, but hell, you could pass for her dad now."
"Ah, you little shit……."
Praise made Beom-sik uncomfortable, especially when it felt like it came with strings attached.
"Beom-sik."
"Don't call me by name, it's creepy. Get to the point."
"You're the only friend I've got here."
Beom-sik's face twisted in disgust.
Chills prickled across his skin like needles.
"Sorry, man, I can't take any more of this. I'm out."
"…Help me out."
"What?"
Beom-sik paused mid-turn.
"Help me. It's too hard deciding alone. Too much shit happening at once—I don't know what to do."
This was a far cry from the usual Jaejeong.
Beom-sik sensed something serious was up.
No joking this off.
"Spit it out. What's going on?"
"Kim Chan-yeol and Choi Ha-sa are gone."
"Weren't they heading to the warehouse?"
Jaejeong recounted the timeline since they'd left their posts and the warehouse details again.
Beom-sik listened thoughtfully, saying nothing.
"Something's definitely up. No way they'd be MIA this long otherwise."
"…That's your conclusion?"
"Yeah. For now."
"So?"
"Feels like I sent them into a trap. But what pisses me off more is I can't do shit because it might be bait. I wanna storm in and flip the whole place, fucking hell."
Beom-sik snorted and eyed Jaejeong.
"Why look at me like that? You think this is funny?"
"You've been out of the game too long—lost your edge. No one's riding your ass anymore."
"Say it plain, would ya?"
Jaejeong looked exasperated.
"That Production Manager guy's suspicious as fuck. Obvious at a glance."
"Why?"
"Think about it. When you and the old man went to the warehouse, it was foggy as hell, right? How'd that prick know to show up when even the soldiers right there didn't?"
"Could just check it periodically."
"Yeah? Then why've I never seen him around when I'm walking Gaon? If it's routine, why post soldiers at all?"
"Obviously guarding something important inside."
Beom-sik stopped, equally frustrated.
"Exactly. He knows what's in there. That's why he posts guards but still drops by to check. Get it? Just beat it out of him. Soldiers don't even know what's inside."
"……."
Beom-sik watched the conflicted Jaejeong for a moment, then spoke reminiscently.
"You said it back at the warehouse: anyone not in leaves. No one did. Means they're all in, lives on the line. So quit worrying about them dying and focus on next steps. That's how shit gets done."
Various thoughts raced through Jaejeong's mind.
He had a plan and order, but an unexpected variable had him stuck.
Seeming to read him, Beom-sik pointed the way forward.
"First off, you head out early tomorrow and meet the president."
"The president?"
Jaejeong looked up from his brooding.
"Yeah. Leave those two to me."
"How?"
"One thing I learned in life: never show weakness to someone gunning for you. We hit back harder. Hesitate here, and we're done."
"Wouldn't it be better to move together?"
"You build the house and wanna do the cleaning too?"
"Could be dangerous. Real dangerous."
"Before this shit hit, every day was war for me. I'll handle the dirty work—you go grind that thick skull of yours."
Beom-sik's gaze on Jaejeong gleamed meaningfully.
His signature cold eyes grew even icier, like water dousing flames.
"But why the president all of a sudden?"
Beom-sik stared at the riverbank in thought before speaking, as if finding the right words.
"Dunno if this lands with you, but how'd I climb to right under the chairman at my age? Truckloads of seniors in between."
"Beats me. How?"
"Back when he was president, there was this roadblock in his path. Big shot no one wanted to touch—protocols, interests, all that bullshit. I didn't care. Clear him, and boss becomes chairman. So I moved first."
"What if he tossed you aside like a used blade after?"
Beom-sik sighed briefly and nodded.
"Could've happened. So I dosed 'em good. Made myself indispensable. We did the same—took all the hard shit, and people remember. That's why both sides want us. Right?"
"So what's your point?"
"When you're making a move, secure your backing solid. Need someone to cover your ass when shit hits."
Not wrong.
The president needed their group anyway, and after sending the military on the landing op, he'd need a firm foothold in the safe zone.
The Tower was the same.
If they sided with the president, they'd be a solid obstacle to whatever the Tower plotted after shipping out the troops.
But… it was risky too.
Charge in without prep, and it'd backfire.
Beom-sik's expression didn't waver.
"While you were chasing bad guys, I fought power games. My call's right here."
He emphasized.
"Going alone?"
"Got my brothers."
"Can trust 'em?"
"Yeah."
Decision made, Jaejeong eyed Beom-sik worriedly.
Beom-sik gave an awkward grin.
"Bear, overthink people, situations, everything, and you'll do jack shit. Time like this, you use the gangster punks—when else?"
Jaejeong chuckled, knowing thugs called detectives "bear."
He clapped Beom-sik's shoulder.
"Alright. Let's do it. Hit me with news by noon tomorrow. I'll talk to the president before then."
Beom-sik nodded and turned toward home.
"Oh, and……."
He paused and looked back.
"I've never once doubted your decisions."
Jaejeong didn't catch the meaning right away.
"I trust you. So act with confidence. Big lug's good for……."
Muttering, Beom-sik waved and walked off.
Infected People