Fists and Forgiveness
“You can’t pass.”
The soldier on guard blocked his path.
Han Jaejeong pulled something from his pocket.
It was a small card. The soldiers who saw it rushed to open the gate.
‘Carry this with you for now. No one in the safe zone will stop you, detective.’
Park Yi-hyun-seok was waiting on the first floor.
He’d originally planned to head straight here after leaving the tower, but the doctor had delayed him.
The night before, the doctor had handed him the card with a few extra explanations.
One of them had caught Jaejeong’s attention.
It was about the warehouse at the edge of the production zone.
‘Don’t go anywhere near the warehouse. I’ll let you know when the time comes. I hope we don’t end up embarrassing ourselves over idle curiosity.’
Who could resist a warning like that?
What the hell was inside that they had to guard it so strictly?
Jaejeong glanced toward where the warehouse was supposed to be.
But the fog was too thick to see anything.
The soldier who’d opened the gate cleared his throat.
Snapping back to why he’d come, Jaejeong stepped into the boundary zone.
Clang!
As the fence gate shut behind him, Jaejeong slowly scanned his surroundings.
Trash strewn everywhere, tents lining the sidewalks like a shantytown.
These people looked so filthy it was hard to believe they were in the same safe zone.
He let out a disbelieving chuckle.
His group had been living in a dump like this.
It felt different from the quick tour he’d taken following the production zone manager.
He’d known it was rough, but not this bad.
Even if they’d had no choice but to take them in, the gap with the other zones was outrageous.
But these folks weren’t just freeloading.
They were the ones repairing the outer walls and expanding the safe zone.
At least he could pull his people out—selfish as that might sound, it was a relief.
That was reality.
You couldn’t save everyone.
No reason to, no ability to.
Lost in those thoughts as he walked, he felt a prickling glare from the side.
He turned and saw familiar tattoos writhing as their owners glared daggers.
Jaejeong remembered the tattooed men.
He kept his distance, studying their faces one by one as he passed.
Unlike their murderous stares, Jaejeong was relaxed.
Amused, even.
A truckload of those punks wouldn’t scare him.
Once past them, the sheer scale of the outer wall bore down on him.
How the hell had they built this?
Even seeing it with his own eyes, it was hard to believe.
Crunch!
Something crunched under his shoe.
A shell casing?
He looked around.
Brass casings littered the asphalt like pebbles.
Traces of defending the area while building the wall.
A memory from his active-duty days made him smile—back when a single casing could make him laugh or cry.
Here, they were just dust bunnies.
As his gaze reached the end of the trail, it met the eyes of people sitting on the sidewalk across the road.
Lee Hyun-soo and Kang Youngman stood with bright smiles; Lee Beom-sik gave a casual nod.
“Hyung!”
Hyun-soo rushed over in one bound.
Jaejeong clapped his shoulder and headed toward Youngman and Beom-sik, but someone blocked his path.
Tattooed bruisers.
Especially Yong Tattoo and Second (Goblin Tattoo)—their faces were twisted in fury.
“Well, if it isn’t you. Small world, huh? Too bad—out here, there’s no police or laws to protect you.”
“Ah, been waiting for this day.”
Jaejeong snorted at their words.
“You laughing?”
“Move.”
He brushed past irritably.
That’s when Yong Tattoo grabbed his shoulder.
Beom-sik just watched from the sidewalk.
“Cut it out. Won’t say it three times.”
His head-turn warning made their foreheads twitch in rage.
“C’mon, why you gotta be like that? He’s our boss’s bro too...”
“Stay out. This ain’t your fight.”
The Youngest (Carp Tattoo) yanked Hyun-soo aside as he tried to intervene.
Hyun-soo’s eyes widened in worry as he backed off.
Size-wise, it was no contest—but there were four of them.
Why’s hyung just watching?
Hyun-soo glanced at Beom-sik, but he silently observed.
Kang Youngman even crossed his arms, watching like it was a movie.
That’s when it happened.
Yong Tattoo, gripping his shoulder, swung a fist.
Thwack—
The massive fist slammed into Jaejeong’s face.
But...
Jaejeong’s face didn’t budge.
No turn, no flinch.
Stunned, the guy swung again.
Crack!
Bone on bone echoed around them; the fist smashed into Jaejeong’s forehead.
He’d thrust his forehead forward before the punch even half-landed.
“Guh!”
Yong Tattoo recoiled a step, pain like shattered bone shooting through him.
But Jaejeong didn’t let up.
He stepped in with the retreat.
Thud!
No time to react to the speed—a fist cratered his solar plexus.
Yong Tattoo crumpled, spitting saliva.
“Fuck!”
The other three charged.
Jaejeong took a step back, reading the order.
Goblin Tattoo leading from the right—big stride, a kick.
Carp Tattoo from the left—fist.
Last one the same.
Sequence set, his body moved like a machine.
He rushed the kicker first.
Blocked the half-raised leg with his palm and shoved the torso.
The guy flew like he’d been hit by a car.
Carp Tattoo adjusted for Jaejeong’s shift and swung.
But Jaejeong’s roundhouse was faster.
Hit just below the ribs, above the hip—he collapsed limply.
That spot hits the kidneys and liver direct; instant shutdown.
The last one threw a left jab, followed by a right cross.
Boxing training.
Jaejeong slipped the jab, blocked the cross with his left arm.
Then clamped the guy’s throat with his right hand.
His massive palm engulfed the man’s neck.
Normally, they’d flail wild punches when grabbed by the collar or throat—drops the guard.
But this one froze like a deer with a tiger’s jaws on its neck.
Just pounded Jaejeong’s arm desperately.
‘I give! I give!’
No ref here.
After seconds of choking, he went limp like dead meat.
Jaejeong dropped him and walked to Beom-sik and Youngman.
Behind, the recovering tattoos scrambled to their fallen buddy.
Beom-sik rose slowly.
Their distance closed.
Without a word, they gripped hands firm, like a handshake.
“Sorry.”
Jaejeong apologized.
Beom-sik nodded with a bitter smile.
He’d deliberately stayed out.
If they’d keep crossing paths in the safe zone, this grudge needed settling once.
Even with his boys, some things words couldn’t fix.
Better to let them hash it out themselves than force it.
So he’d watched.
As expected.
Jaejeong never crippled without reason.
All four hit in pressure points—rest and they’d be fine.
The tattoos froze in shock at the pair’s camaraderie.
As Jaejeong greeted Youngman, Beom-sik beckoned them.
They rushed over.
“Greet him. He’s my friend.”
Jaejeong turned; they clutched their wounds, faces sour.
“We’ve had our fun—let it go. This guy’s saved my life more times than I can count. Treat him like me from now on.”
“...Got it, hyungnim.”
Yong Tattoo bowed first.
Then deep to Jaejeong.
Even exchanged names.
The others followed.
Jaejeong chuckled lightly.
“Let’s get along from now on. No hard feelings on my end. Dust yours off too.”
“Yes, hyungnim.”
The four bowed awkwardly deep.
Then a sharp voice pierced Jaejeong’s ear from behind.
Anna, roused from her tent by the noise.
“What’s this? When’d you get here?”
“Just now. But what’s with that look?”
Jaejeong eyed her pitifully.
Realizing she hadn’t bathed in days, Anna spun away in a fluster.
“Wh-what look? It’s ’cause I haven’t washed! Ah! Don’t stare!”
“And how’ve you been faring, lad?”
Youngman asked.
Jaejeong gave a quick rundown.
And shared the good news.
“They agreed to relocate you four as a condition. Should hear something soon.”
“Grateful. Seen Minyoung?”
“Minyoung’s in the tower. Working on the vaccine—good for her.”
“Aye, that suffices. She won’t live like this.”
“Might be better she doesn’t see this.”
Youngman nodded.
Hyun-soo spoke up.
“But where to?”
“They wouldn’t agree if there wasn’t.”
“You’re not kicking out folks from good spots to make room, right?”
“Hey.”
Beom-sik cut in.
“Think of us. Just us.”
“...Fine.”
Hyun-soo swallowed his words reluctantly.
But Beom-sik’s follow-up drew all eyes.
“I’m staying here.”
“Why?”
Beom-sik glanced at his tattoos.
“Hyungnim! We’re good!”
“Quiet.”
One word silenced them like honey-mouthed mutes.
Words burned in their throats, but they held.
Jaejeong got it instantly.
“Alright. Do what suits you.”
“Opportunity’ll come. We thrive anywhere—worry about the old man and those two.”
Regret flickered on Anna and Hyun-soo’s faces.
No helping it, even if it stung.
He’d always been a different shade from the start.
Like a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit the group.
But with his reunited brothers here, he looked at home.
Relaxed, like the piece clicked perfectly.
Hell, anyone would choose the same if they found family or friends here.
“Um...”
A stranger’s voice turned them around.
The Work Leader and his sidekick stood there.
They’d been watching awhile.
“Didn’t get the memo—when’d you arrive?”
“Heading out soon.”
Jaejeong snapped curtly.
“Talk first.”
“I said I’m leaving.”
“That’ll be tricky.”
Jaejeong’s brow furrowed in annoyance.
“Goddamn it today. What? Spit it out here.”
“I’m the Work Leader in charge of the boundary zone. These are my team. We saw the whole fight—regs say we handle disputes here. Get it? We assess, send troublemakers to the soldiers. Okay?”
“Deaf? I’m leaving.”
Jaejeong stepped up to him.
His shadow loomed like a wall.
But the Work Leader looked up without a flinch.
Jaejeong’s gut screamed.
This guy wasn’t normal.
His detective instincts, honed over years, blared the warning.
Infected People