Penthouse Showdown
The doctor pressed himself flat against the wall, swallowing hard.
Watching a scene straight out of a movie unfold right in front of him left his hands and feet trembling, his mind reeling.
And these two soldiers on the floor—they were among the elite even within the tower.
So what the hell were these lunatics?
Okay, fine, Jaejeong had the build for it, but this old man? How the fuck did he drop active-duty special forces like it was nothing?
As a whirlwind of thoughts raced through the doctor's head,
"Stand up straight. Unless you wanna get hit like a dog."
Jaejeong repeated his earlier command, and the doctor—huddled against the wall—straightened up, sweat beading on his forehead.
Jaejeong eyed him intently, then glanced at the floor indicator. Plenty of floors left. Time to ask what he'd been wondering.
"But... did you really have to go that far?"
"Pardon?"
The thoroughly cowed doctor flicked his eyes away as he answered.
"Developing that serum or whatever—you had to do that to healthy, living people?"
The doctor's gaze fell on the two soldiers sprawled on the floor as he started to respond.
Gulp.
"I won't hit you, so answer me. Why'd you do it?"
"...The serum wasn't secured as planned, even as time dragged on. People thought we were negotiating with other governments, but without it, no one would even talk to us."
"Then you could've stopped after the president showed up. He had the serum."
"How the hell do you think we'd silence people we'd already locked up?"
"You didn't see this coming?"
"If we had... we wouldn't have."
Jaejeong shook his head slowly.
"Yeah, whatever. But seriously—how many more floors?"
"We're almost there."
With a electronic chime, the doors slid open slowly.
Jaejeong and Youngman pressed their gun barrels into the doctor's back and advanced.
The top floor opened into a stark white hallway.
No generic framed pictures on the walls—just arid emptiness, like a desert.
The doctor's steps halted before a massive glass door.
Beyond the slowly opening door stood Kwon Jeong-woo.
But Youngman's eyes nearly bulged at the scene inside.
Kwon Jeong-woo by the window with armed soldiers—and Minyoung seated in a small chair in front of them.
"Minyoung!"
Youngman's thunderous roar echoed through the building.
Losing all restraint, he swung his gun toward the soldier aiming at Minyoung. Every weapon in the room swiveled toward the two of them.
Click! Click!
Two more appeared in the hallway behind, fully encircling Jaejeong and Youngman.
Jaejeong quickly assessed.
Two at the entrance, four inside.
All armed.
One with his barrel to Minyoung's head.
No way to turn this around.
The doctor, sensing his advantage, lowered his arms and approached Minyoung.
He stood beside her, tilting his head mockingly at Jaejeong.
"What a day... up and down, back and forth."
Jaejeong forced a bitter smile at the doctor's taunt.
No one was coming to save them now.
And even if someone tried, he, Youngman, and Minyoung would be dead before they reached the top.
Is this how it ends?
Jaejeong ground his teeth, gazing faintly at Seoul's skyline beyond the vast windows.
"Looks like all the protagonists are here. Time to get started."
Kwon Jeong-woo, watching leisurely from the window, extended his pistol outward and fired without hesitation.
Bang!
A single shot cracking through the air.
Like a signal flare.
"Lower your weapons. Do whatever to me, but please—spare Minyoung."
Youngman slowly lowered his gun as he spoke.
Kwon Jeong-woo, observing silently, replied with a pitying expression.
"Then you shouldn't have forced our hand. Now we look like the bad guys. Oh, and I saw the elevator brawl on CCTV. You two were still going at it."
"Release Minyoung. We've lowered our weapons."
"I never agreed to anything. You disarmed yourself and demanded your daughter's freedom. And... to cut to the chase, I can't let any of you three go now. My regrets."
"Please, I beg you—just Minyoung!"
Kwon Jeong-woo gestured irritably, and soldiers rushed forward, beating Youngman down.
Thud! Thud!
Even under their boots, Youngman's eyes stayed fixed on Minyoung.
Minyoung clenched her fists, tears brimming.
"Enough."
At Kwon Jeong-woo's signal, the soldiers retreated.
Jaejeong stood weaponless now, too.
"Detective. You look like you've got a million questions."
Kwon Jeong-woo glanced out the window at Jaejeong.
Gunfire echoed endlessly outside.
"We've got time. I might answer a few. The president's probably waiting for us to kill you three—gives him an excuse to strike. But we'll move faster, won't we?"
"What the fuck is power worth to make you do this? You've got the serum—exile safely together. Gotta shoot it out like psychos?"
Jaejeong was angrier than ever.
But Kwon Jeong-woo showed no emotion.
"Such a tired question. Power this, power that. Actually, it's not power—it's the president. I won't share the same dirt with that bastard."
"The president stepping in would make exile or negotiations way more effective. A guy like you, all that studying and pen-pushing—can't think of that?"
Kwon Jeong-woo's face twisted in an instant. He strode forward, grabbing Jaejeong's chin roughly.
"So that's why you rejected my offer and sided with him. President's involvement changes what? Negotiations? You think he's better than me?"
Jaejeong saw madness beyond inferiority in Kwon Jeong-woo's eyes.
His soul-corroding resentment spilling out, Kwon Jeong-woo pressed on relentlessly.
"Who built this place? Huh? Who made the safe zone? Who took in crumbling Japanese politicians' exiles and traded for serum? And that president—he stole it like a rat. What's so great about sucking up to him? Answer me! Who kept you alive?"
"Ah... so that's how it went down. Explains how the safe zone went up so fast. Been wondering the whole way to Yeouido. Some psycho cut all the bridges. You knew and let them die. To build your kingdom."
"So what?"
Kwon Jeong-woo stepped back, gesturing to the safe zone sprawling outside.
"It's solid. What's wrong with me? Look how well it's held. Saved countless lives. Not a messiah, but they all owe me their knees. While your precious president did jack shit, I planned and prepped this in two days. Hah..."
His flushed face finally calming, Kwon Jeong-woo regained composure.
"Anyway, enough talk. You'll pay dearly for slapping away my hand. The president too. I'll be the one leading our people out as Korea's rep."
Smoothing his suit, Kwon Jeong-woo swept back his disheveled hair from his rant.
He glanced at the doctor and soldiers.
"Finish them clean. No one left out..."
Kwon Jeong-woo couldn't finish.
A faint, rapid vibration hummed from below.
Rrrrrumble!
The tremor grew, shaking knickknacks off the table.
But the real attention-grabber was the sound. The sound.
All eyes turned to the sky outside.
Through high clouds, something yellow and red roared closer, thundering like lightning.
* * *
Leaving Gaon with Hyun-soo, Beom-sik sprinted through the intersection, rifle in hand.
Jaejeong's promised time had passed.
And the president, who'd gone to the house, never met him.
Something was wrong.
"Anna!"
Anna, waiting, slung her bow and stood at his shout through the flung-open shop door.
"What? Where's everyone?"
"No word. Trouble."
"The soldiers?"
Anna asked about the troops left with the president.
"None moving. President's silent."
"Fuck, no way!"
"You head to the riverside first. Find my brothers among the soldiers sorting supplies."
"What about you?"
"I'm checking the warehouse. Do as I say."
"Then what?"
"Bring your brothers to the tower. Meet there."
"What're you gonna do alone?"
Anna grabbed Beom-sik as he turned.
But he shook her off and ran without answering.
The Jaejeong he knew always built in buffer time.
That "if not back by [time]" was generously padded.
No word yet? Definitely trouble.
Heading past the production zone to the warehouse, he spotted a group of soldiers in the distance.
All armed, marching toward the boundary zone.
Something off.
Beom-sik didn't know every soldier, but packs like this always had familiar faces.
These? Total strangers.
Didn't matter now.
Had to check the warehouse fast.
Ignoring them, he ran—then spotted more soldiers.
All staring right at him.
That instant.
Bang!
A massive shot cracked through clear sky.
The soldiers whipped rifles toward Beom-sik.
Eyes wide, he dove behind stacked log barricades ripped from outer walls.
Bang! Bang-bang! Bang!
"Nngh... fuck!"
Burning pain—he checked his arm.
A bullet had grazed it, tearing flesh the size of a pinky nail.
Clutching the bleeding arm, his eyes caught an apartment shop's glass reflecting sunlight.
Some of the three split groups were charging his position.
He peeked the other way.
The rest bolted for the boundary zone.
Gunfire erupted from there too.
What the hell was going on?
Deal with the approaching ones first.
Whiz! Whiz!
Peeking with pistol drawn, bullets forced his head back down.
A stray round shredded the log end, puffing sawdust.
"Hah! Hah!"
Fear of death?
Beom-sik's breath rasped to his jaw.
Thinking froze as soldiers closed in.
Then his eyes caught a dirt-caked stone rolling on the ground.
Fist-sized.
Mud-caked from rain and dust, more clump than rock.
"Fuck it!"
Beom-sik hurled it toward the charging soldiers.
Arcing high in a parabola.
The soldiers' faces twisted.
Some thought grenade; closer ones saw stone.
Half already scattered, eyes locked on it.
Right then.
Beom-sik leaned out, pistol barking at the soldiers.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Infected People