Officers' Mockery
The soldiers guarding the front of the command barracks snapped to attention and saluted the moment they spotted I-jin, stepping aside to let him pass.
Jaejeong gave a curt nod, and the two men strode straight into the barracks.
The officers, huddled over maps in a meeting, all turned their gazes in unison at the sight of Jeong I-jin standing at rigid attention with a salute—uncharacteristically formal for him.
The major tilted his head quizzically.
"What is it?"
"I have something to report."
I-jin said it with an emotionless face.
"Take a seat and wait. We're busy right now."
"Understo—"
"It's important. Might require rethinking our entire operation."
Jaejeong stepped forward, jumping in assertively.
I-jin quietly shifted aside to let Jaejeong take the lead.
A heavy silence fell.
The major glanced at the colonel for cues.
There was a flicker of annoyance, but nothing outright hostile.
The colonel nodded toward Jaejeong with his chin.
"Fine. Sit and spit it out. But if it's bullshit, you'd better be ready for the consequences."
"Of course."
Jaejeong sat, organizing his thoughts.
Where to start?
From the first moment they'd spotted the anomaly among the infected.
"...The firework arrow dropped into the basement, and the zombies swarmed toward the noise. All except one. That one stayed put, didn't follow the pack."
"Not a person?"
The colonel asked skeptically.
"If it was human, it'd have been torn apart before we even spotted it."
"Hmph..."
It was an obvious answer, but spot on.
No human would just stand there amid hundreds of infected, let alone survive.
"Could've been deaf. Maybe born that way, or went deaf before turning."
"It turned around."
"What?"
The colonel's brow furrowed in irritation.
"Turned and looked straight at us on the rooftop. Then slowly scanned the annex building. Anyone could've seen it—it was searching for a way up."
"And then?"
"It... got taken out by an arrow before it could do anything."
Another stretch of silence.
This time, the major spoke up.
"We can't change ops based on one incident. Especially secondhand. Right? What matters is real threats, and you say there weren't any."
"There were. Real threats."
Jaejeong recalled the cafeteria incident.
The traumatic memory flashed before his eyes.
Kraaack!
Thud!
The cook's groan.
He and Beom-sik, holding the door as the man died, forced to shove him out to save themselves.
Even Beom-sik's face reflected in his own eyes as he pressed against the door, catching his breath.
Jaejeong clenched his jaw, reliving the sensation.
"We were defending the narrow cafeteria entrance when suddenly zombies started flying everywhere, slamming into walls. Whatever hurled them down the hall indiscriminately wasn't human or zombie. Just a monster."
"Be more specific."
"Over two meters tall, body at least twice my size. Swinging its arms sent nearby zombies tumbling like ragdolls. Headshots didn't kill it. Even an arrow to the skull, and it kept coming. Bald as a cue ball, skin bloated like a balloon. If there's not just one but a bunch—and I think there will be—running into them without prep... a couple deaths won't cut it."
The colonel, who'd been drumming his fingers on the table the whole time, shot a look at the major and the juniors.
They met his gaze with tense faces.
But...
"Kkh!"
An unexpected sound burst from the colonel.
A smile—absurd, almost deflated—cracked his tightly shut lips.
The laughter kept going.
"Kuhahaha!"
The colonel's guffaws broke the ice, and the major and juniors joined in, laughing like madmen.
The major's face flushed beet red; he looked like he might keel over any second.
The hysterical laughter gradually died down. The colonel's crumpled face smoothed out, then hardened.
Smacking his lips a few times, he let out a long sigh.
"Whew. Man, I've lived long enough to hear all kinds of crap... Hey, Jeong I-jin. Han Jaejeong."
"Captain Jeong I-jin."
I-jin gave his full rank and name.
Jaejeong stayed silent, but they let it slide.
"You think I'm a pushover?"
"This isn't a joke—"
"Hey!"
The colonel bellowed loud enough to ring their ears.
That's when Jaejeong realized how the man had heard everything up to now.
He hadn't intended to believe a word from the start.
Just letting them vent because they wouldn't shut up otherwise.
"Acting like generals when you're barely officers? Pathetic, huh? That's why you're pulling this?"
"No, sir."
Jaejeong gave up.
Whatever he said now, it wouldn't matter.
"Hey, drag these idiots out and shoot 'em right now!"
"Haha, calm down first, sir. Firearms are banned in the safe zone unless it's a special—"
"Then toss 'em outside!"
The order flew at the major's fawning face.
With a helpless shrug, he turned to the company commanders.
"What are you waiting for? Haul 'em out."
Finally, the officers lunged.
Jaejeong and I-jin were booted out without a word of protest.
Jaejeong looked up and sighed.
No helping it.
With that reaction, expecting anything was pointless.
The major chased after them and eyed Jaejeong.
"Why stir up nonsense?"
Jaejeong didn't answer.
"Even if it's true, they won't listen. The tower pulling you for security, all those hero tales floating around—you're on their shitlist."
'Did I go blabbing? It's your rumors that spread because you couldn't control them.'
Why take it out on him?
Jaejeong dropped his gaze in resignation.
The barracks atmosphere was toxic.
The prior scene had shifted the air's weight.
From the sergeants up, every officer resented Jaejeong and I-jin.
The colonel sat silently, forehead deeply furrowed.
Inferiority complex, maybe.
He hadn't always been like this.
Before, he was unremarkable—just happened to rack up merits during the safe zone's formation.
With all the brass missing except the division commander, he was basically military top dog.
Maybe that's why.
Since the tower refused to acknowledge him and their relations soured, he'd grown prickly.
I-jin was a thorn in his side first.
Ignored orders, eyes dripping disdain.
But now an even bigger problem showed up.
Worse, same unit alumni.
His head swirled with suspicions: the tower put Jaejeong up to it.
Kwak!
Those bastards.
Veins bulged on the back of the colonel's hand as he crumpled the paper.
The next day.
As dawn broke, visitors arrived at the barracks.
Stepping in was none other than Youngman.
Park Yi-hyun-seok was with him.
"Your first addition for joint security duties."
"You said no to that. What about the others?"
Jaejeong said, face sour.
Park replied, exhaustion plain on his features.
"Yes, that was the plan. But with his experience and skills across the board, it made sense. Good for you two, no?"
True enough.
Still, the intent was transparent.
Dragging in Youngman, whom the military disliked, to balance safe zone power.
"Got it. Anyone besides Uncle Youngman?"
"I'll inform you once decided. Share quarters here."
Park glanced around.
Extra bunks meant no need for separate barracks even with more people.
"How do we handle duties?"
Jaejeong eyed Park.
"Make your plans. Report everything to me. As police, you'll whip up security protocols fast. I'll approve most anything—just report on time. First report, then act. Check the boxes coming in; useful for work. Call me 'Director' from now on. That's all."
Park gestured and left; soldiers filed in with boxes.
One corner filled solid.
"Not a lightweight."
Youngman muttered at Park's retreating back.
Jaejeong agreed—not an easy mark.
But ambiguous.
Forced into a job he hated, or genuine?
"Doesn't even seem human."
"Folks like that often have hidden human sides once peeled back."
"Doubt it."
Impossible to agree.
That robotic demeanor—no blood even if sliced—human?
Still, I-jin's words lingered.
A man who'd do anything to survive with his young son.
'Story there, probably.'
"We'll see in time. But security? With all these troops?"
"Military probably doesn't enter boundary or production zones directly. Just pass through."
"Thought it'd be easier here."
Youngman grimaced at the hassle.
"Still, working together ain't bad. Got plans?"
"Time to brainstorm."
"Let's see..."
Youngman checked the boxes.
Office supplies, white paper—but mostly densely packed documents.
"This the resident list?"
Youngman gawked at the stacks.
Production zone dwellers: dong/ho numbers, resident IDs, origins, jobs.
"Looks like."
"Scratch my human-side take. Paranoiac couldn't compile this. Not asking us to read it all?"
"Glance when free. Won't hurt. Issues? Zone leads handle it. Wonder why we need it, but orders are orders."
"Sleep one night in those tents, and you'd shut up."
Youngman snorted.
Jaejeong decided to stay positive.
Work was good.
And with real authority.
Beats passive orders a hundredfold.
"'Director,' huh? Sounds good. So I'm your boss now?"
"Yup. Listen up. Do as told."
Jaejeong smirked.
"Gotta bow proper in public, call you sir."
"Naturally."
Youngman snorted back.
But Jaejeong knew.
Youngman would anyway—no need to say.
Just teasing.
Wanting to feel positive about it.
"Something bothering you?"
"Huh?"
Jaejeong flinched like caught.
Infected People