Missile Impact
The water bottle on the table trembled like an aspen leaf in the wind.
Every eye in the room, including Han Jaejeong's and Kang Youngman's, snapped toward the window at the flash that followed.
It was an instinctive, reflexive reaction.
Through the gathering storm clouds, an unidentified object plummeted, trailing a brilliant glow.
Missile?
As Jaejeong's body stiffened like a statue upon identifying it, Youngman's gaze shifted from the window to Minyoung, seated just a few steps away.
The missile, spewing thick smoke high into the sky, was hurtling straight toward the heart of Yeouido.
Jaejeong felt every cell in his body awaken, drumming like war beats in anticipation of what was coming.
And then...
Just before the missile struck Yeouido, something streaked in horizontally and collided with it.
Boom!
In Jaejeong's eyes, the sky reflected flames erupting like a volcanic explosion, expanding at tremendous speed.
The impact alone was enough to throw everyone off balance, staggering them.
A fleeting moment passed.
A massive blast of wind swept across Yeouido ahead of the flames.
From the high floor, the scene felt all the more vivid.
Jaejeong felt a strange sensation, as if he were dreaming.
Unlike the collision, the wind and flames approached in eerie silence, devouring everything in their path.
"Get down!"
Youngman's bellow echoed thunderously, and Jaejeong hurled himself under the long central table.
He then tipped the table on its side to brace for the shockwave.
Beside him, Youngman rolled on the floor, clutching Minyoung, then turned his head toward the oncoming storm and flames now nearly upon them.
Crash!
The front windows shattered entirely, and a black gale filled the room in an instant.
Soldiers who hadn't reacted in time were flung like scraps of paper.
Jaejeong, shielded behind the table, held his breath against the acrid stench pouring in.
Was it tinnitus?
Or had he lost his hearing?
Suddenly, there was no sound at all.
Jaejeong slowly rose, shaking off his dazed mind.
The thick smoke filling the room was swept away by the wind, and visibility gradually cleared.
The window facing the blast was reduced to bare frames, and the once-white wallpaper was charred black.
The tower's interior felt like it had been teleported to another place entirely in mere seconds.
Jaejeong's gaze searched for Youngman and Minyoung.
Youngman lay slumped in the corner like a corpse.
Minyoung shook him relentlessly.
But no sounds came.
Jaejeong swallowed dryly, his face uncannily calm despite the soot-blackened visage, like someone who'd emerged from a fire pit.
Gulp!
Only then did his blocked hearing flood back in an instant.
"Ugh..."
"Urgh..."
"Dad! Come on, wake up! Dad!"
Through the groans of fallen soldiers scattered about, Minyoung's urgent voice rang out as she shook Youngman.
Now fully alert, Jaejeong took in the surroundings at a glance.
He checked his body first.
His gaze lingered on his soot-covered hands before shifting back to Youngman.
He thought it over.
There had been no sensation of heat.
No one among the fallen showed burns.
The flames apparently hadn't reached this floor.
Which meant...
At least this wasn't the afterlife.
"Hey, hey!"
Jaejeong rushed over in one stride and checked Youngman's condition.
Pulse strong.
Breathing steady.
Just knocked out from the shock, it seemed.
"Minyoung, let's get out first."
Jaejeong grabbed Youngman's arm to hoist him up.
A sharp groan erupted.
"Agh! Let go! I said let go!"
Youngman, eyes wide with bulging veins in shock, shook off Jaejeong's grip.
"You okay?"
"Huff! Huff! For now... seems okay. Except my shoulder feels like it's gonna snap."
Youngman muttered, rubbing one shoulder.
"Ugh..."
From behind the overturned table, Kwon Jeong-woo stirred with a faint groan.
In the meantime, Youngman had reclaimed his machete, and Jaejeong picked up a fallen rifle.
With everyone down, now was the chance to escape.
Jaejeong sent the two out first, grabbed an extra rifle, and headed for the door when a grotesque sound grabbed his ankle.
Grrr...
It was the sound of an infected.
Jaejeong's face turned slowly.
Behind Kwon Jeong-woo, who had just come to, a bleeding soldier let out a beastly growl and convulsed violently.
Crunch! Grind!
Kwon Jeong-woo, crawling on the floor, recoiled in terror at the sight of the thrashing limbs.
Jaejeong was just as stunned.
He couldn't process how this had happened.
No one had been bitten or exposed—yet mutation had occurred anyway.
"Wh-what? Why's it doing that all of a sudden?"
Kwon Jeong-woo's eyes darted wildly around.
He limped with every movement—his leg badly injured.
He was searching for a rifle.
But Jaejeong had taken the ones on the floor.
The rest were with the soldiers.
At the sound, the other soldiers stirred.
"H-help!"
Kwon Jeong-woo's desperate gaze fixed on Jaejeong opening the door.
Jaejeong paused, then stepped out.
Kwon nearly screamed in agony.
"I know this makes me shameless, but you're leaving me like this? Won't that eat at you? No, Officer! You're in charge of security here! A man's dying— you just walking away? No! Don't close the door! You bastard! Get back in here!"
At the end of the corridor, Youngman and Minyoung waited in the elevator switched to backup power.
"Hurry up!"
But despite Youngman's urging, Jaejeong didn't budge.
He just peered through the large window in the door.
Inside, the soldier-turned-infected sprang up and lunged at Kwon Jeong-woo.
"Gaaah!"
Red blood sprayed around Kwon Jeong-woo like spilled paint as his throat was torn.
"Aaaagh! Stop!"
His skin stretched like cheese before snapping repeatedly; the area around his neck began turning black.
Another soldier, seeing too late, aimed his gun.
Bang!
With a single shot, the infected biting Kwon collapsed in a heap of flesh.
But then a freshly mutated infected tackled that soldier, turning the room into instant hell.
Too close to aim properly?
The soldier was bitten without firing accurately, and the newly turned Kwon attacked another.
A soldier bolted for the door to escape and locked eyes with Jaejeong.
The moment he grabbed the handle—
"Uwaaagh!"
The beastly face of mutated Kwon appeared behind him, splattering blood across the dust-smeared window.
But something was off.
No sign of the doctor anywhere.
"Hey! What're you waiting for—come on!"
From the elevator, Youngman shouted urgently at the infected growls.
Jaejeong still didn't move.
He stood like a stone Buddha, taking in every detail inside.
Then he glanced back at the two in the elevator.
Youngman fell silent at that look.
He'd never seen that expression on Jaejeong's face before.
Eyes steeped in cruelty and madness.
It was the look Youngman had seen countless times on the battlefield.
Crash!
Jaejeong smashed the window with his rifle butt, shouldered his weapon, and aimed through the broken pane.
Gun barrel slipping in slyly.
Inside, surviving soldiers kicked at infected, fired wildly, desperate to live.
But Jaejeong's gaze was resolute.
Bang! Bang! Bang-bang! Bang! Bang!
Deafening gunfire roared through the tower.
Now, beyond the door—silence.
Infected and humans alike, slaughtered indiscriminately. Jaejeong's eyes burned red.
How much time passed?
Jaejeong lowered his gun as if nothing had happened and boarded the elevator.
Youngman couldn't utter a word at the sight of his face.
It was like gazing at his younger self—like old war buddies wading through blood-soaked fields. His mind went blank.
But the voice came from an unexpected source.
"Well done."
It was Minyoung.
Youngman's gaze shifted from his daughter's cold, sunken eyes back to Jaejeong.
Jaejeong pressed the button with an emotionless face.
* * *
When the blast hit the tower, the doctor—standing away from windows—watched relatively unscathed.
Witnessing the tsunami-like storm and dust, he instinctively thought of his son.
That drove him panting down the stairs.
Floor numbers by emergency lights dwindled with each landing.
Bang!
He flung open the steel door to the interior and rushed somewhere.
The corridor was choked with dust, visibility low.
"Cough! Cough!"
Covering his mouth, the doctor's eyes scanned quickly.
Then he moved in the direction his body remembered.
The corridor was a wreck.
Glass shards crunched underfoot everywhere; nothing remained intact.
His anxiety mounted with each step.
His footsteps slowed as the pitch-black room's door swung wide.
The interior was unbelievable even to the eyes.
Not just windows—frames obliterated. Furniture reduced to unrecognizable wreckage.
Unlike higher floors, this mid-level had taken the explosion's full brunt.
"Ah... ah..."
Muttering like a madman, the doctor approached a desk embedded in the wall.
Beneath it lay a charred child.
His son.
The doctor's outstretched hands trembled toward him.
If they touched now, it felt wrong.
If they touched, the death he'd only seen would transmit through his fingertips to his heart.
The son's skin, hardened like stone in the blaze, met the doctor's hand.
Muscles spasming, tears filling his eyes, he hurled off his glasses.
Then he cradled the precious corpse and wailed like a beast.
Regret and pent-up grief wracked the ruined room.
Where had it all gone wrong?
Why did it have to end like this?
What the hell had he been doing all this time?
He'd claimed the boy was most precious, yet never stayed by his side. Where the fuck had he been, only showing up now?
The doctor buried his face and sobbed like a child.
The kid who never whined at his weary late returns, chattering about his day instead.
The kid who shed not a tear even through the divorce, when his mother left for another man, scorning his work obsession.
He'd never said those simple words: I love you.
Never given a warm hug.
Yet outside, he'd boasted the boy was his world.
Excusing himself that hard work was for the child's future.
Memories from their first meeting flowed through his mind like water.
The son's birth had changed his self-centered world.
Where the hell were you all this time, showing up only now!
The scream in his heart tore at his chest, a storm raging within.
And then...
As the doctor's sobs began to fade—
Grrraaah!
The ashen eyes of the son in his arms snapped open.