No Room for Mercy
Han Jaejeong was climbing the uphill path, his breath reeking of acetone so badly it felt like it was coming out of his mouth.
This wasn't just a matter of basic stamina.
It had been over 24 hours since any of them had slept, and god knows how long since a proper meal.
Yet neither Jaejeong nor Beom-sik could suggest taking a break.
Not with Kang Youngman powering up the mountain ahead of them without so much as a groan.
Was there some special trick to climbing without tiring?
There wasn't a trace of exhaustion on the old man.
After leading them for a good while, Youngman suddenly turned back and unslung his pack.
"I've been selfish, thinking only of myself. I know you won't like it, but eat this at least."
What he pulled out was a small packet of biscuits.
"In a situation like this, high-calorie stuff beats a full meal any day. You'd just crash and sleep it off if you ate rice now. We're almost there—push a little harder. Once we pass that pavilion up ahead, the hospital comes into view."
Sure enough, just beyond the nearby hilltop stood a pavilion.
Jaejeong pictured the builders hauling materials up this slope to erect it, and a surge of unexpected respect welled up in him.
As the three of them crammed biscuits and water into their mouths and gradually picked up speed,
Jaejeong, in the lead, reached the area around the pavilion. He dropped into a crouch and raised his hand sharply.
They followed his signal and hunkered down, but curiosity drew Youngman and Beom-sik closer anyway.
And sure enough, voices carried from there.
Loud enough that even at a distance, the words rang out crystal clear, as if spoken right beside them.
"Please, don't do this. There are kids in the tent. They haven't eaten since last night."
A man and woman clutching a plastic bag stuffed full were pleading desperately with someone.
They looked like a couple, and from the conversation, it seemed they'd fled into the mountains and were now scavenging food for their children on the way back.
The problem was the two men blocking their path.
Younger-looking than the couple, the men swung their knives wildly in clumsy threats.
"Think about it. You could die protecting that one bag. Hand it over!"
"I-I'm serious, I'll stab you!"
As the situation dragged on, one raised his knife high and menaced them roughly.
His stance looked plenty threatening—like he might actually hurt someone any second.
It was amateurish, unpracticed, which made it all the more dangerous.
You couldn't predict what they'd do.
"Take it. I don't know how long it'll last stealing from others, but you can't do it forever."
"Honey!"
The husband tossed the bag they'd been gripping.
His wife lunged to grab his arm and stop him, but it was too late.
Refusing might have gotten one of them killed right there.
He figured they could scavenge more food later.
As long as they survived this moment.
But the man who'd snatched the food suddenly changed his tune.
He blocked the couple again as they tried to head toward their kids.
"What the hell?"
"Hold up—changed my mind. Leave the woman."
"Hey, what're you talking about? We agreed on just the food."
"Shut up. That was your idea. Give me the knife. Useless pussy…"
His panicked partner tried to intervene, only to have his own knife snatched away.
Stunned by their exchange, the husband instinctively yanked his wife behind him.
Things were going south fast.
"You take one step, and I won't hold back. You'll have to kill me to take my wife."
"Perfect. Make it easy on me—gives me a reason to gut you."
It was a powder keg ready to blow.
The knifeman took a step forward; the husband retreated one, shielding his wife behind him.
Left alone, something bad was bound to happen.
The moment Jaejeong started to rise—
Youngman grabbed his collar tight and stared up at him intently.
"Just walk away."
"What?"
Jaejeong's forehead twitched at the whispered words.
"Even if you step in, someone's dying before it's over. Fights over food never end well. And I know this'll rub you wrong, but I don't have time to waste on this. Going back down would be…"
"Kyaaak!"
A piercing scream sliced through the air past their heads.
Jaejeong whipped around.
The husband lay there, gashed by a swung knife, blood pouring as he groaned.
"You fucking psychos!"
The knifeman jolted at Jaejeong's roared curse and spun around.
The sight of Jaejeong—bear-like in size—bounding down through the trees like a predator, sledgehammer raised, was terror incarnate.
But before Jaejeong arrived, one man slammed face-first into a tree and crumpled.
Beom-sik had leaped off a stump—pants leg sliced clean off—and planted a kick square into the knifeman's jaw.
The sudden arrival stunned more than just the fallen man.
His partner, of course—and even the couple in peril stared in confusion.
"N-no, not me. I didn't mean to go this far… Gahk!"
The dazed man flailed in terror, but Jaejeong's fist drove right through his guard.
He hit the dirt, sticky drool spilling from his mouth.
"Police. These fuckers…"
As Jaejeong rummaged in his pocket and approached, the husband—clutching his slashed arm—instinctively pulled his wife back.
Clear defensive posture, no mistaking it.
"Whoa, hold on—there's a misunderstanding. I'm a cop. No need to freak out."
"Here, take this and go. The kids are waiting."
Beom-sik scooped up the rolling bag and handed it over.
The couple, who'd shied away from Jaejeong, bowed frantically in thanks and vanished.
They kept glancing back at him the whole way out of sight.
"Weirdos."
"More importantly…"
Beom-sik trailed off, watching the couple flee.
"What're you on about now?"
"Nah… where's the old man?"
Beom-sik glanced casually toward the hilltop pavilion, then scanned around—only for Jaejeong to tap his shoulder.
Youngman, machete in hand, now stood between the two men.
They crawled on the ground, trembling uncontrollably.
Youngman's piercing glare down at them from machete-height was unbearable.
A flicker of 'no way' crossed Jaejeong's eyes.
Beom-sik, watching silently, tensed up too.
How long passed like that?
Crack!
The drooling man's head snapped sideways viciously.
A dull crunch like breaking jawbone, and he passed out cold.
But that wasn't the end.
Youngman approached the other—the one who'd swung the knife—and yanked off his shoe.
The man thrashed to keep it on, but that was it.
Youngman pinned his ass down and eyed the half-peeled sock on the heel.
Then gripped the ankle hard.
Crunch!
A chilling snap, and the healthy ankle twisted into an unnatural angle.
"Gaaah!"
The man shrieked in agony, thrashing wildly, but Youngman snapped it again without pause.
Crunch!
"Kyyyaaah!"
And that finished it.
The ankle now faced completely backward.
Ligaments, muscles—everything shredded.
Youngman ignored the death-rattle screams and headed back to the pavilion.
The howling man blacked out like his buddy.
Returning to the pavilion, Youngman squeezed his eyes shut at the sight of Jaejeong and Beom-sik.
"One more time you jump into someone else's mess without thinking, and I'll leave you behind. Especially if you're just gonna half-ass the cleanup—don't touch it at all."
"Was that necessary? What if the noise draws those things? How the hell we getting back then?"
Jaejeong grumbled.
"If I hadn't stepped in, those bastards would've chased down that couple. Half-hearted 'help' like that just brews bigger trouble. That one's limping for life now—or dead. If you're punishing evil, do it right. You never know when or where you'll cross paths with guys who've seen your face."
"Still, that was overkill."
"I held back from slitting throats because of you two. Didn't want human blood tainting me on the way to find Minyoung—might bring bad luck. So if you're gonna bitch, don't start shit in the first place."
With that, Youngman quickened his pace.
"Hah, whatever. Can't argue with that. What about you? You've been weird since earlier."
Jaejeong pressed Beom-sik, who stood there gravely.
"…It's only been a day."
"What?"
"Just one day passed."
"Speak straight, man."
Beom-sik, lost in thought, looked Jaejeong dead in the eye.
That gaze stirred something odd in Jaejeong.
What was it?
A kind of disappointment-soaked look.
"Even in this shitshow, it's only been one day—and people are already acting like it's been weeks…"
"Hmph."
Jaejeong let out a long sigh through his nose, eyes narrowing.
Beom-sik was the type you thought you knew, but the more you did, the less sense he made.
Saying stuff like that didn't suit him at all.
Beom-sik glanced around, so Jaejeong continued.
"Always been that way, asshole."
"What, you expected some grand society? People banding together? Nah. Humans are selfish as fuck. Quit overthinking and move."
Jaejeong grabbed the stunned Beom-sik's arm and tugged—what a weird guy, he thought.
Having thoughts that didn't fit, brooding alone in bitterness.
Jaejeong shook it off and stepped forward again.
On the resumed climb, they drained every last drop of water.
Not enough to ration anyway, and the rising sun had turned it brutally hot.
Jaejeong smacked his lips over the final drops poured into his mouth.
"We're here."
At the hill's edge, Youngman overlooked the massive comprehensive hospital below and muttered.
Now that they were there, Jaejeong's worries spiked.
The place was way bigger than expected.
Three buildings the size of the main one, plus small annexes and parking lots stretching out.
Where to even start?
Knowing the workplace didn't guarantee survivors had holed up safe from the infected.
"Fucking huge."
"Don't worry. No need to check the rest. Just that annex behind the big buildings—search it proper."
The annex Youngman pointed to was small, low-rise compared to the others.
But something felt off.
No infected in sight—not even a rat scurrying.
Gazing down at the empty hospital grounds, Jaejeong voiced his concern.
"This just complicates shit…"
"Why?"
Beom-sik sidled up, shoulder to shoulder.
"Not a single one of those bastards in sight."
"Isn't that good?"
"Nah. Empty in a space this big? That's weirder. Could mean trouble—like they're all clustered somewhere, or we accidentally spring a trap. Open the wrong door on a packed room…"
They might not even use the supplies they'd prepped.
Could say 'better than fighting', but an unplanned variable wasn't welcome.
Might've been safer with visible threats.
"Fair point."
Beom-sik nodded, no better ideas.
"No choice—gotta check it out ourselves. Stick close. Uncle, cover the rear."
"Blind?"
"What else? When you don't know, eyes are king."
Jaejeong took point down the slope.
Thud!
One by one, the tense group, scanning warily, vaulted the fence below.
Infected