Ruins of Yeouido
A single crow pierced the thin veil of fog and perched on the rooftop of a half-collapsed building, scanning its surroundings.
The area was filled with irregular bursts of flames and zombies shambling about in pursuit of stimuli.
Houses with their roofs blown off, half-destroyed apartments, overturned cars, toppled street trees, and cracked, shattered asphalt.
Yeouido, the nation's largest safe zone, had lost its prestige and was crumbling into ruins.
There were no more production zones or boundary zones.
All that remained were zombies roaming the entirety of Yeouido.
The fields that survivors had tended with such care were buried under ashes, unrecognizable in form, and the once-clean roads were littered with traces of devastation.
In the riverside park that survivors had frequented, only trees felled by the gale and entire water fountains flipped upside down littered the ground.
Flap flap!
The crow, overlooking the wretched scene, sensed danger and hurriedly took flight.
Whirrr!
Following it, black objects swarmed through the faint mist, filling the sky densely.
The countless objects emitting electronic whines from the height of the street trees were all military drones.
As the drones, lined up in a long horizontal formation, slowly advanced, the heads of nearby prowling zombies whipped around frantically.
But it was only for a moment.
The creatures toppled over one after another without so much as a proper roar.
Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!
The drone formation pressed forward steadily, destroying everything that moved.
Soon, zombies drawn by the gunfire swarmed densely toward the edge where the tower stood.
By the time their numbers reached tens of thousands, the firing drones suddenly scattered left and right.
Rat-tat-tat!
Even as they dispersed, the drones didn't cease firing, and the zombies, lured by the gunfire, mindlessly followed.
The drones were heading for the Han River.
Splash!
Furious zombies plunged into the river after the gunfire, and the drones hovering above expended even more bullets to bait them.
From the sky, it looked like inky waves scattering in all directions, pouring toward the river.
Military boots followed, trampling through puddles formed here and there as they advanced.
"Alpha here. Infected lured successfully. Entering Yeouido."
Fully armed U.S. soldiers in gas masks emerged before the tower, maintaining 360-degree vigilance.
As one scanned the area and radioed in, remaining zombies charged from various spots.
Thwip! Thwip! Thwip-thwip!
The creatures roaring as they lunged were instantly holed in the head by suppressed rifles.
Bravo and Charlie entering Yeouido. Will clear the area swiftly and search for targets.
"Roger. Move to rally point after search."
Affirmative.
Finishing the radio exchange, Alpha team slowly surveyed the area.
Yeouido was more devastated than they'd imagined.
It was a miracle the intercepts had worked so well; a slight delay, and the whole place might have been reduced to dust.
"Boss, no survivor signals."
A team member scanning with a search drone reported via the remote controller.
"None at all?"
"Affirmative."
The team leader tilted his head.
It had only been a few hours since the missile intercepts.
No survivors at all?
Another team member, equally puzzled, approached.
"That's weird. Not just survivors—why are there so many infected?"
"Hmm..."
It was undeniably strange.
During the briefing, Yeouido had been teeming with the living.
No infected humans in any footage.
What the hell was this now?
Headquarters had expected contact with survivors and securing the serum based on their testimony.
If the leader's judgment wasn't off, it seemed all the survivors had turned infected.
But how?
Their virus data wasn't extensive, but they knew the infection vectors well enough.
No wonder the long-distance flyers were questioning it.
As the leader grappled with the nagging doubt, two team members emerged from between buildings.
"Sample secured!"
They dragged a zombie by the neck with capture nets.
Gagged, blindfolded, and ear-plugged, it was calmer than expected but thrashed its head wildly at voices.
"You two handle the sample. Rest, advance."
"Roger."
The separated pair stuffed the compliant zombie into a custom bag, zipped it shut, and buckled it.
"Whew! Hell on earth."
"Tell me about it."
"Hope we snag the target quick. Why so many bodies? All headshots."
"What the hell happened here?"
"Whatever it was, I don't wanna know. Hate this squelchy ground."
"Same. This place is... pure hell."
Surveying the area, they nodded in unison.
Everyone felt it, but they especially wanted this op over and to leave Yeouido ASAP.
Then.
Squelch! Squelch!
Startled by the muddy footsteps, they snapped rifles up.
But didn't fire.
"Urk!"
The bleeding figure charging wasn't a zombie—it was alive.
"Freeze!"
Shocked by the sudden English, the survivor clutched his wounded arm and halted.
"Closer and we shoot. Answer: Are you a survivor?"
"Yes."
"That arm wound?"
The soldier reacted sharply to the injury.
The survivor tore his sleeve, revealing it, and replied in broken English.
"From a bomb. Not bitten. Bites turn you right away."
The two soldiers exchanged glances, lowered muzzles, and approached.
"Arms out, turn around. Even if we take you, gotta check thorough and bag you first."
One frisked him head to toe; the other radioed the leader on private channel.
"Boss, survivor found."
Where?
"With the sample."
Roger. Hold position. Found target—can't come now.
"Affirmative."
"What'd he say?"
The frisking soldier looked curious.
"Found the target."
"Already?"
Things were going better than expected.
Survivor walked in on his own, sample secured, now target too.
Their minds filled with thoughts of evacuating Yeouido soon.
Meanwhile, the leader's side—where the target was "found"—was turning dire.
Due to bizarre transmissions flooding in.
This is Charlie. Target sighted. Will confirm and report.
Bravo. Object presumed target sighted.
Feeling unease and foreboding, the leader responded on all-channel.
"What? Alpha confirms the target..."
"Take cover! Booby trap!"
BOOM!
It happened before he finished.
The instant a team member screamed opening the black bag presumed target, a massive blast hurled nearby members flying.
Flesh-searing stench and pale smoke filled the air.
Panicked, the leader rushed to the fallen.
But they were already gone.
Who the hell did this?
No explanation fit.
Mid-missile intercepts turning Yeouido to rubble—who sets booby traps then?
This was a safe zone.
Inhabited only by Korean survivors, who lacked resources for proper traps.
That blast wasn't some grenade hack job.
Huddled behind cover, the leader's mind raced.
Targets sighted simultaneously everywhere.
What about the others?
"Bravo, Charlie. Respond. Alpha majority down to booby traps."
No reply despite repeated calls.
Seconds later, familiar explosions echoed—directions of the other teams.
Survivors couldn't organize this.
Conclusion: Not just U.S. forces in Yeouido.
Leaping toward a half-ruined building entrance, back to cover.
First, locate and count enemies.
Clink!
Pulling a decoy grenade pin, he hurled it opposite, dashed up stairs.
Fake gunfire to draw eyes.
But atop the stairs awaited a suppressed pistol barrel.
"...!"
Thwip! Thwip!
Tumbling head-holed, his last sight: an East Asian woman in black cap pulled low over neatly tied red hair.
Meanwhile, the sample-side team with the survivor ducked at sudden blasts.
Still shielding him.
"What was that?"
"Look! Our team's direction!"
Gazing at rising smoke, they shouted.
And then.
Slash!
The staring soldier clutched his throat, collapsing.
"Gah! Gurk!"
Throat slashed open, he spewed guttural groans instead of words.
His lone partner panicked briefly—then the "survivor" closed in, slashing with a keen blade.
"Guh!"
He too clutched his throat, convulsing zombie-like.
Blood fountained everywhere; sucking gasps from gashes unending.
The survivor, moments ago wincing in arm pain, was utterly transformed.
Sweeping back disheveled hair, he grabbed the fallen rifle, eyeing them.
Mutation imminent.
Thwip! Thwip!
Precise shots without hesitation stilled the twitching Americans.
Soon, a woman appeared on the half-ruined rooftop.
Removing her cap, unleashing her hair—red locks whipped in the chill post-rain wind.
But it couldn't match her icy aura.
Creeeak!
Rooftop door opened; a similar-built woman approached briskly.
The young woman, seemingly peer, lacked one ear—short hair accentuating it.
"Commander. No serum."
She merely overlooked the area at the report.
The subordinate continued.
"Boat left Yeouido post-bombing. Maybe them?"
"Landing troops possibility?"
"None. Confirmed via insider. Orders?"
"Pursue. Can't let serum roam Korea. Route?"
"Unclear after river crossing. Only train station nearby..."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Radio HQ: Find moving trains near Seoul."
"Yes. Prepare full unit."
"No. All stay in Yeouido. 801, 802—follow me."
The one-eared woman paused bowing.
801 was her; 802 the next male.
"Just three risky?"
"You want to prove your worth? Show me now."
"...Understood."
"Depart when HQ pins location. Rest till then."
Jang Riming vanished from the rooftop.
Infected People