Ambush in the Tower
The safe zone buzzed with activity from early morning as soldiers moved about.
Preparations had wrapped up sooner than expected, and orders from above had advanced the landing operation by a full day.
Several high-speed boats and small transport vessels appeared, loading up supplies and troops.
The Tower was busy figuring out how many of the military's forces would deploy for the landing.
Meanwhile, the soldiers were occupied tallying supply types and quantities before heading out.
Among the supplies were drums of fuel siphoned from gas stations.
Yellow barrels stamped with "DANGER" stickers were carted off in a long line.
Most of the survivors had been watching the spectacle since dawn.
In contrast, the soldiers stationed at the Tower hadn't stepped foot outside for hours.
If anything, security around the Tower had tightened even more than usual.
A short while later.
Kim Chan-yeol and Choi Hoon, aboard a high-speed boat, turned back for one last look at the safe zone.
The sudden schedule change meant they hadn't even had time to say goodbye to their comrades.
They hoped to see them again.
Regret filled the eyes of the two men gazing at the safe zone.
Just after the troops assigned to the landing operation had all departed on the transports.
Two soldiers emerged from the Tower, pulling a covered handcart, heading somewhere.
Accompanying them was a very familiar face: the doctor.
With everyone's attention fixed on the riverside, they slipped through the empty production zone toward the warehouse.
The guards on duty spotted them entering the warehouse but took no action.
As if it were the most routine thing in the world.
The two soldiers, pulling the large handcart front and back as if delivering goods to the warehouse, unlocked the padlock.
They strained to push it inside.
But contrary to appearances, the cart was remarkably light.
It held only a bit of food and drinking water.
This was how they supplied the people locked in the warehouse.
One soldier locked the door while the other opened the floor panel leading to the basement.
Screeech!
Flashlights in hand, the doctor and soldiers descended the stairs amid the creak of hinges.
Click!
The soldier flicked the switch, flooding the dim basement with light.
But something was off.
The people who should have been scattered around the isolated space were nowhere to be seen.
"What the hell? Where'd they go?"
"What's wrong?"
The doctor asked, following behind.
"No one's here."
"What do you mean?"
As the three stared in bewilderment beyond the transparent wall.
A hand slowly emerged from the thick shadows at the base of the stairs.
The other soldier, sensing something amiss and scanning around, spotted it just then.
"Whoa, lower your weapon."
Han Jaejeong appeared in an instant, pressing a knife to the soldier's throat from behind.
"You too, stay put. The moment that barrel rises, we'll all meet in hell. Doctor included."
Kang Youngman followed, aiming his rifle at the soldier reaching for his gun, his tone mild enough to seem affectionate.
The doctor's face twisted in disgust at Youngman's gentle words.
Caught off guard by the sudden turn, the two soldiers swallowed dryly.
One was pinned by Jaejeong, the other covered by Youngman's rifle before he could even raise his.
Jaejeong prodded the knife lightly against the throat and grimaced.
"Alright, both of you, lower your rifles. No bending down. Just drop 'em like trash."
They hesitated briefly but realized they had no choice and let the rifles fall as ordered.
Dust billowed up like heat haze around the fallen rifles on the floor.
Youngman immediately slung one over his shoulder and approached the lone standing soldier.
"Sorry about this, no hard feelings."
Thwack!
The soldier crumpled unconscious from the blow to the back of his head, and Jaejeong expertly knocked out the one he held.
Now only the doctor remained.
"What is the meaning of this?"
The doctor raised his voice, glaring at the downed soldiers.
Jaejeong smacked his lips and replied.
"Eh... we'll talk about that later. Let's go. To the Tower."
"What?"
"To the Tower, I said."
"And what do you plan to do there?"
"Guess we'll find out when we get there."
"No, wait—what about the people who were here?"
"Moved 'em somewhere safe, right? Those poor bastards."
Jaejeong emphasized each word deliberately.
"You can't let those people out! They're infected with the virus!"
Youngman raised an eyebrow at the doctor's words and glanced at Jaejeong.
Neither man's expression wavered.
The frantic doctor pressed on.
"They're all infected. That's why I was running clinical trials for the vaccine I'm developing."
"They looked way too healthy for infected. Don't you think, old man?"
"Indeed. No one would mistake them for infected. If that's what infection looks like, we're lucky—the virus must've gone harmless."
"You're both insane! We need to bring them back right now!"
"Lies from the moment you open your mouth. Get moving while I'm being nice. Don't make me treat you like a dog."
The doctor, who'd been shouting desperately, hung his head in resignation and climbed the stairs.
Youngman led the way, followed by the doctor and Jaejeong.
In case he tried to bolt.
Outside, Jaejeong and Youngman, each with a rifle slung over their shoulder, prodded the doctor's back.
This way, they could enter the Tower armed.
How long had they walked?
Just as the three cleared the warehouse fence.
Suddenly, military boots echoed from all directions.
Soldiers.
Fully armed, they began encircling the trio.
Jaejeong and Youngman scowled at the unexpected development, scanning their surroundings.
The tense doctor took a few steps forward, then turned to face them.
And burst into laughter that shook the area.
"Hahaha! How do you never fail to exceed expectations?"
Youngman watched him throw his arms wide and muttered low enough for only Jaejeong to hear.
"If we get out of this alive, I'd love to smash that nose of his. Bet it'd be a sight with blood gushing while he laughs like that."
"Probably."
As the two resigned themselves, thinking they'd been completely played.
The doctor, seeing no reaction, wiped the smile from his face.
"Treat our guests with utmost care. After all, they've delivered themselves as hostages."
Disarmed, the pair were surrounded by soldiers and marched toward the Tower.
So many closed in tightly that from outside, the two were invisible.
Only Jaejeong's head poked out above the crowd, thanks to his height.
The situation had flipped in an instant.
"Well, we made it to the Tower at least."
Youngman muttered as they entered, but Jaejeong didn't respond.
He was piecing together where it had gone wrong.
The night before, the president and division commander had met Tower reps for fake negotiations, and the military advanced the landing to draw eyes.
In that window, no one had visited the warehouse.
Meaning no one knew about the predawn rescue.
So how?
Jaejeong eyed the doctor.
The doctor, entering the elevator first, caught his expression and smiled.
"Get in first. I'll explain step by step."
Jaejeong and Youngman followed, with two soldiers joining them.
Even inside, rifles trained on them.
The elevator was spacious enough to maneuver.
"We're going pretty high. You're wondering how this happened. Your biggest mistake? Letting slip that the president and division commander came to the Tower."
The doctor's voice carried a hint of glee as he continued.
"Without that, I really wouldn't have known. We don't exactly exchange visits often, do we? That alone was suspicious, but then bringing up the warehouse out of nowhere as a 'gesture of peace'? Most odd. And advancing the landing by a day sealed it."
'Damn those crafty old bastards.'
Jaejeong squeezed his eyes shut.
He'd thought their acting was ghost-level deception.
But their "big reveal" at the Tower was about the warehouse?
'No, wait.'
A bolt of realization struck Jaejeong.
What if the talk of the president testing him was all true?
All he wanted was justification.
He'd dangled an obvious lie to provoke a reaction.
Using Jaejeong up front, in exchange for helping rescue Kim Chan-yeol and Choi Hoon.
If Jaejeong and Youngman got caught—or killed—it gave the president ironclad pretext.
The landing troops would return after a set time.
To bring them all back, he'd need an incident the hundred thousand survivors in the safe zone could stomach.
A Tower coup, the doctor's experiments, plus Jaejeong and Youngman's sacrifice? The president could do anything without backlash.
His head suddenly throbbed.
This made them live bait on the hook.
Wriggling.
"Haa..."
Jaejeong sighed, head bowed.
The doctor, seeing it, consoled mockingly.
"Don't worry, though. I won't beat you like some mangy dog."
Parroting Jaejeong's warehouse words.
Things were spiraling fast.
Beyond that, if they got nabbed like this, Minyoung's safety in the Tower was at risk, and the rest of the group's too.
Especially Lee Beom-sik—he'd told him to assume the worst if Jaejeong didn't show by the deadline.
He'd charge the Tower to rescue him again.
Everyone could end up sacrificed.
Jaejeong glanced at Youngman beside him.
Youngman stared up at the changing floor numbers.
"You should've grabbed my hand when I offered. Did you have to force this? Too late now, sadly."
The doctor tsked openly.
"Yeah. Should've listened to you, Doc. Regrets... Guess you can't trust politicians."
Jaejeong said to the doctor with a hollow look.
Perhaps spotting a faint smile in that expression.
The doctor felt an inexplicable chill.
And in that instant.
Jaejeong slammed his foot down— the elevator lurched violently.
In sync, he swatted the rifle aimed at him, redirecting it toward the doctor.
Youngman, seizing the moment the front soldier's gaze shifted, raised his rifle and struck the throat.
Gack! The soldier dropped his weapon.
Jaejeong shoved the redirected barrel outward while headbutting the soldier's face.
Headbutt!
A knockout blow landed dead center.
The soldier clutched his nose, head reeling back, rifle clattering.
But these weren't ordinary grunts.
Far from typical soldiers.
Unfazed, the pair lunged with fists at Jaejeong and Youngman.
In the cramped elevator, four men erupted into brutal hand-to-hand.
This was no street brawl.
The doctor gasped, pressing flat against the wall.
Jaejeong deflected a flying fist with his forearm, slamming his side— the soldier blocked with an elbow and jabbed at Jaejeong's eyes.
Jaejeong snapped his head back, dodging, then countered with fingertips to the jaw underside.
Expecting the eye poke, the soldier failed to block the jaw strike.
A reflexive punch grazed Jaejeong's eye in return.
Thud! Thud!
They recoiled naturally, slamming into walls— soldier against the door, Jaejeong against the see-through outer wall.
Then, like magnets, they collided again.
Jaejeong feinted a punch, then drove his knee into the soldier's thigh.
"Guh!"
The soldier staggered, leg buckling from the surprise— Jaejeong's fists hammered solar plexus and jaw in rapid succession.
It happened in a blink.
Slide... Thump!
The soldier knelt and slumped against the wall.
Meanwhile, Youngman had pinned his opponent to the wall, throttling and pummeling the solar plexus relentlessly.
Thick drool spilled from the soldier's mouth.
"Kids these days got no respect for elders. Family education's key."
Youngman turned, and Jaejeong's gaze locked on the doctor.
Infected People