Empty Fuel Tanks
“How long ago did you cross over from China?”
“About a week, I think.”
The man counted on his fingers to confirm the date.
“Anyone else cross over in that time? Anyone you can contact or confirm is still alive?”
“No. Nothing like that.”
“Fine. Whatever. That's on you guys.”
Now it all made sense.
The man knew nothing about the current international situation.
It was only natural.
No one had told him anything.
Good enough.
His curiosity was satisfied.
There wasn't any particularly provocative reason or motive.
They just needed sacrificial lambs for money and drugs.
Even if there really was a ship waiting, tagging along with these assholes would be even more insane.
According to Major Kang, they'd blow up long before reaching land.
“Nothing more to see here. Let's get moving.”
Youngman whispered it like a murmur.
He seemed to think it was just as pointless a story.
And what about these guys?
Jaejeong looked down at the man and his underlings.
He wasn't planning anything specific, but letting them go just like that felt off somehow.
In the distance, the tall fence around Yeouido came into view.
The safe zone.
No people were visible behind the barrier, but its sturdy presence made his heart race.
They needed to hurry.
“What's your name?”
Jaejeong crouched down to meet the man's eye level.
“Lee Gongdu.”
“Gongdu? Cute name.”
“Um...”
Gongdu's pupils trembled with unease.
“Speak.”
“It's a bit late, but please spare us. Yeah, I've done some bad shit, but my little brothers haven't. Let them go at least, and I'll do whatever you say.”
Jaejeong's eyebrow twitched.
Looking at the so-called little brothers behind him, they were born-and-bred villains through and through—no place they'd fit in society without issue.
Every last one of them looked the part.
But a big brother begging to save his little brothers? No little brother would ever beg to save a brother like that.
Typical.
“Nobody ever said we were gonna kill you.”
At Jaejeong's words, they all looked up at him.
The reaction was more intense than expected.
“You think killing people is some normal, easy concept? I don't know what the hell you guys were thinking living your lives, but we're not like that. Of course, if you tried to kill us, that'd be different.”
“Thank you.”
Gongdu bowed so low his head nearly touched the ground.
His underlings followed suit without missing a beat, heads dropping in unison.
Where've I seen this before?
“What? You're just gonna let them go?”
Beom-sik's voice carried from not far away.
At the sound, the men's eyes flickered wildly as they kept their heads down.
They all swallowed hard at the sight of the bald guy being dragged in, his face bruised purple with scabs.
The bald thug now held his hands neatly together, polite beyond compare to before.
Beom-sik smacked the back of his head roughly.
“This fucker speaks Korean well. Hey, say something in Korean.”
“S-sorry.”
“Good pronunciation, huh? Try something else.”
“I was wrong.”
“Why'd you curse in Chinese earlier?”
“I won't do it again.”
“Won't? This is your last day—what the hell do you mean 'again'!”
Beom-sik kicked the bald guy into the water.
Splash!
The guy flailed wildly for a while before barely clinging to the wooden pier.
Couldn't swim, apparently.
“P-please spare me! I won't do it again. I'll live right. Please!”
He was sputtering nonsense, probably from swallowing water.
But Beom-sik was just getting started.
He stepped close and stomped down hard on the hand gripping the pier precariously.
Tears streamed from the one-armed bald guy's eyes.
“Stop it!”
Jaejeong sighed and shook his head as he watched, but a sharp voice drilled into his ear.
It was Minyoung.
Her face flushed with anger, she glared at Beom-sik.
“What?”
“If you're gonna kill him, just do it. What the hell is this? What's the difference between you and them!”
“Unbelievable.”
Beom-sik turned his head.
There was that gangster swagger.
His face hardened as if to snap back, but he glanced at Youngman first.
Then he let out a hollow laugh.
“We almost died. Almost got shot by these fuckers. Or maybe turned into zombie chow fetching that money bag. And now 'stop'?”
“But we're alive now, aren't we!”
“Yeah, alive. But whose credit is that? Definitely not yours. It wasn't you who flipped the table with death on the line. So don't tell me what to do. The more you do, the harder it is for me to hold back.”
As the two argued, the bald guy took advantage of the gap, half-draped over the pier, utterly spent.
Drool mixed with the water he'd gulped down.
Anyway, Jaejeong had made a promise.
To let them live.
Or rather, not to kill them.
“Just let them go.”
“Why again?”
Beom-sik's brow crumpled like paper.
This was the second time.
Jaejeong blocking his thinking in front of everyone.
“You said you're not the type to kill people.”
“Not killing. But if we leave them like this, who knows what shit they'll pull next. No guarantee we won't run into them again?”
Beom-sik had a point.
Jaejeong looked down at Gongdu.
Sensing the hesitation, Gongdu shook his head desperately.
“No. Just spare us and we'll get out of here right now. If we see you again, we'll pretend we didn't, won't even breathe. Our ship's in Incheon, so once we get there, we'll vanish back to China quietly. No chance of crossing paths again.”
“You hear that?”
“You believe that shit?”
Beom-sik shot back incredulously.
And yeah, it was pretty unbelievable.
This was the guy who'd been cursing in Chinese even after Jaejeong took his gun.
Now suddenly switching tactics, groveling for his life—it rubbed him the wrong way.
Felt off.
“And going back to China now...”
“Forget that. So what do you wanna do?”
Jaejeong cut Beom-sik off.
“That warehouse is crawling with zombies, right? Pry the door open and shove 'em in. If they've got the skills, they survive. If not, they'd die anywhere anyway.”
“Wait.”
Gongdu jumped in.
“I'll give you some useful info.”
“Info? Hm. Let's hear it.”
Jaejeong crossed his arms, waiting.
The rest of the group looked curious too.
Beom-sik narrowed his eyes, wary of some scheme.
“Yeouido. You can't go.”
“What?”
Jaejeong's eyes wavered.
The group doubted their own ears.
“No fuel on the boat.”
“What the...”
Before the answer finished, Youngman—who'd sprinted ahead—leaped onto the yacht.
To Youngman, the yacht wasn't just transport to the safe zone.
It was more.
A guide to utopia, where Minyoung could live safe from horror.
No fuel?
He checked the yacht, then the speedboat.
All of them.
True.
Not a drop left.
Black stains around the fuel tanks.
Someone had siphoned it out.
No river crossing meant no escape.
Going back to the streets was suicide.
They'd been lucky as hell just getting this far.
And even then, unexpected sacrifices, no time to grieve.
That was the extent of their luck.
Youngman had lived long enough in this world.
He knew that kind of fortune wouldn't hold.
Deep wrinkles carved valleys across his face.
Still, he had to tell the group.
“It's true. Not a drop left.”
Jaejeong's brow crumpled like paper.
No matter how he thought about it, nothing.
Not winter—why steal every last bit of boat fuel?
“How'd you know?”
“You think we didn't plan to cross by boat? That's why we came here in the first place, damn it. No idea which crazy bastards, but why the hell do they need fuel?”
Gongdu felt the same frustration as Jaejeong.
Then something flashed in Jaejeong's mind.
Fuel...
Wait, people who need fuel aren't exactly rare.
He suddenly looked at Beom-sik.
“Major Kang said it. Fuel shortage. Not even manpower to fetch it. Remember?”
“No way... even the boat fuel?”
“If they're short, why not?”
“How many gas stations in Yeouido? I know five alone.”
Beom-sik waved it off.
Then Anna, who'd been listening quietly, spoke up.
“What if it's for reserves?”
“Reserves?”
“Summer's almost over. It's gonna get colder.”
“Ah...”
A sigh escaped Jaejeong.
The others too.
Yeah, that could explain it.
Take it safely from the water, no zombies in the way.
If true...
It meant the crisis was dragging on.
No immediate fix.
Time to hunker down, coexist uneasily with those filthy monsters.
“Perhaps...”
Youngman stroked his chin.
“They might be preparing a counterattack.”
“This late?”
Jaejeong asked.
“Possible. They lost most regular forces, but if they have minimal supplies and troops left for a push, fuel becomes critical. Think about it. Gotta consolidate supplies scattered nationwide, right? If I were commander, I'd stockpile at sea. Safe. Then launch amphibious ops at one point.”
“Could be. Nothing certain, though. But more urgent—we've lost the way to Yeouido. Bridge gone, no boat fuel...”
Everyone fell silent like they'd eaten honey.
No ideas, no matter how hard they thought.
Land route severed, boats dry.
Couldn't swim it.
What now?
As Jaejeong pondered deeply, his radio exchange with Major Kang resurfaced.
The coordinates.
The word circling his mind lit up.
“What were the coordinates again?”
“Coordinates?”
Youngman asked back.
“The ones Major Kang gave. Head to that spot, he said.”
“Broadcasting station?”
“Yeah. Broadcasting station. That's our only option.”
“How? Can't walk there.”
Anna asked worriedly.
As the group sank back into thought, Gongdu—still kneeling—chimed in.
“Sorry to interrupt, but finding another way might be faster.”
“Why?”
Jaejeong asked.
“Wherever you're from, no place has more zombies than around the broadcasting station. It's... hell.”
“How do we trust you?”
Beom-sik glared.
“It's true. I'm saying this to help. Can't go to the station. You saw it yourselves, right?”
Gongdu's men nodded.
“Weird fucker. You really wanna help us?”
“If I can.”
“Then tell us a way we can go. Don't just say no—spit it out. Got a way or not?”
Beom-sik crouched and yanked Gongdu's chin roughly.
“Sending people there is as good as pushing them to die.”
“Yeah? Perfect. We gotta go no matter what, and you want us to spare you? You lead. We'll let you go when we reach the station.”
“No need for that.”
All eyes turned to Hyun-soo.
He must have a good idea.