The Last Wall Closes
The hazy fog had mostly lifted, but the area around the safe zone near the Han River remained shrouded in a murky veil.
The workers waited without installing the final wall.
A bead of sweat trickled down the forehead of a worker perched atop an idling construction machine.
The surroundings were so still it felt like time itself had frozen.
The faces of the workers, scattered irregularly and gazing outward, bore the unmistakable marks of an exhausting day.
As one checked his wristwatch and another grew visibly restless,
a worker high up jerked his head around on reflex.
Vroom.
An engine rumble echoed from somewhere within the fog.
The crowd perked up their ears as if on cue and surged toward the outer wall.
Vrooom! Rumble rumble!
Soon, a dump truck burst through the mist.
Their eyes widened at the battered bumper and the thick black smoke billowing from it.
As the sputtering dump truck fully entered the safe zone, the waiting construction machines roared to life, spewing exhaust as they sealed the final wall.
Thud! Clang!
Inside the safe zone, familiar faces mingled with strangers.
Park Yi-hyun-seok and Kang Minyoung waited with the medical team, while soldiers stood in a line with stretchers at the ready.
"Sir!"
Kim Chan-yeol and Sergeant Choi leaped from the truck bed and saluted the company commander.
But an unexpected reaction followed.
Armed soldiers surrounded the truck instead.
Park Yi-hyun-seok adjusted his glasses and stepped forward a few paces.
"Upon disembarking, everyone please extend your arms and line up sideways. I know it's inconvenient, but this is a necessary procedure—you'll have to comply."
Starting with Han Jaejeong, whose clothes were torn and crusted with dried blood, Jeong I-jin, Kang Youngman, and Anna disembarked one by one.
Countless gun barrels encircled them.
The waiting medical team then thoroughly examined the group and the three unconscious people lying in the truck bed.
In the meantime, Minyoung, who had been checking on Beom-sik's condition, let out a sigh of relief.
A moment later.
Right after Jeong I-jin, Youngman, and even Anna passed inspection,
the medics examining Jaejeong's body quickly stepped back.
Soldiers raised their rifles in unison.
"Please remove your upper clothing."
Jaejeong snorted shortly and shrugged off his shirt.
It seemed the wounds covering his body were the cause.
Jaejeong wasn't thrilled about it.
But returning from the infected-infested outside, this was standard protocol.
As his bulging upper body muscles came into view, the medics closed in again for a closer look.
There were so many gashes and scrapes that it took considerable time.
The gathered workers stared like they were admiring a statue in a museum.
Lee Hyun-soo's face was visible among them.
"That's enough."
At Park Yi-hyun-seok's word, the medics withdrew.
In the back, soldiers were loading the three unconscious ones onto stretchers.
"You okay?"
Minyoung approached Jaejeong after reuniting with Youngman.
Jaejeong, who had been wearing his tattered, stretched-out T-shirt like a rag, replied with a weary face.
"Hanging in there."
"Your wounds are serious. You should head to the tower with me for treatment first."
"I'm fine. For now..."
Jaejeong's gaze shifted to Beom-sik being carried away on a stretcher.
"It's not life-threatening, so no need to worry. But what the hell happened out there to knock out three people? You sure they're really okay?"
Jaejeong nodded, and Park Yi-hyun-seok interjected into the conversation.
"It's not unreasonable for Minyoung to worry. As I mentioned earlier, it would be best to go to the tower for treatment first."
"And then?"
Park Yi-hyun-seok nodded, grasping what Jaejeong meant.
"You'll receive treatment anyway, and afterward, the director, myself, and a few others will discuss the aftermath. That's when we'll settle your group's status, along with some minor commendations for the fallen and the rescue team."
Jaejeong nodded and followed the two.
He had just finished the rescue, but he'd decided on the way back to tie up loose ends definitively.
Especially regarding the group's future.
The safe zone expansion had wrapped up without issue, so there was no reason to wait longer.
* * *
The hospital inside the tower buzzed with activity.
On one side lay the unconscious Lee Beom-sik, the Squad Leader, and the driver, all hooked to IVs side by side. On the opposite side, the rest of the rescue team received treatment.
Sergeant Choi stood out, his hands trembling uncontrollably.
Minyoung, gloved up, instructed Kim Chan-yeol as if urging him.
"Hold it tight."
"Pardon? Oh, yes, ma'am."
Kim Chan-yeol swallowed dryly and gripped Sergeant Choi's wrist.
The tip of his trembling thumb was missing its nail.
It must have torn off while stabbing at infected with his dagger.
"Sergeant Choi, just bear with it a bit longer."
"No, wait. Doc, just... give me a second to mentally..."
Sergeant Choi needed time to prepare himself.
He hadn't even realized his nail was mangled until they reached the safe zone.
Only after the medics pointed it out did the pain start kicking in.
And it hurt like hell.
How the fuck didn't I notice this?
To Minyoung, though, it wasn't all that surprising.
Survivors of major incidents often failed to notice even broken fingers or toes.
What the hell did they go through...?
Minyoung's hand paused just as she was about to start the procedure.
Kim Chaemin's face flashed in her mind at the worst moment.
Blood and pus-soaked tie, twisted face, construction site.
Bang!
Minyoung's grip tightened fiercely.
Sergeant Choi's face contorted in agony, and he clutched Kim Chan-yeol's collar, shaking like he was on death's door.
"Doc, aren't you rubbing too hard? Sergeant Choi, hang in there—just a bit more."
Kim Chan-yeol grimaced in sympathy and tried to soothe him.
Realizing she'd used too much force, Minyoung swallowed and eased up.
Watching it all, Jaejeong recalled the same memory as Minyoung.
A case where a nail had torn off mid-attack on infected.
The memory surfaced unbidden.
His gaze drifted to Kim Chan-yeol and Sergeant Choi, pondering the weight of life they'd have to carry from here on.
Surviving meant shouldering the value of the lives lost—their attachment to life itself.
"Have a seat."
Jaejeong snapped to and turned his head.
Kim Chan-yeol and Sergeant Choi were already done.
Minyoung gestured to the empty chair, calling him over.
He stripped off his shirt and sat.
He couldn't pinpoint exactly where he'd been scratched or torn.
Pain throbbed evenly from his neck to his waist.
Minyoung soaked gauze in disinfectant and examined the wounds with a speechless expression.
They were injuries from being stamped on, then dragged and ripped while pinned.
"This is gonna hurt bad."
Jaejeong flinched as the gauze touched skin.
He endured the rest well enough.
Kim Chan-yeol and Sergeant Choi winced in his stead.
"Damn, tough bastard."
While focused on the treatment, Minyoung swapped gauze and asked,
"How'd you get these wounds?"
"Well..."
Would she even believe him if he told her?
No, more like—where the hell does he even start?
From the hospital?
As he mulled it over, Minyoung narrowed her eyes.
"Not gonna tell me?"
"It's exactly what it looks like."
"That's not what I'm asking."
Jaejeong pondered where to begin.
But Minyoung didn't wait.
"Guess I'm too chicken and not much help, so no right to know? Fine, don't bother denying it."
Jaejeong paused mid-denial.
"Doesn't matter why, it's not a big deal anyway. Dad gave me the rough story. He's impressive and all, but now he's just an old man. Thanks for always helping him out."
"Your dad's the one who helped me."
"But when are you gonna drop the formal talk with me?"
"Huh?"
"You heard."
Jaejeong fell silent.
He looked like he didn't know what to say.
"Talk to me casual like you do with Anna. Makes me more comfortable. I can't be as chill as her, though. Disinfectant's done—now lie face down."
"What else is left?"
"Stitches, obviously. Gonna leave 'em open?"
Minyoung tilted her head, hands in her coat pockets.
She looked every bit the doctor in moments like this.
Jaejeong lay prone on the exam table, thinking.
According to Youngman, Minyoung used to be really upbeat.
The trauma from this mess had just lingered too long, changing her.
One thing was clear: she'd changed for good after pulling the trigger on Kim Chaemin.
How to put it.
She didn't seem attached to any situation, didn't put her heart into anything.
Her voice carried a world-weariness that made mere existence seem tedious.
Distinct from mere laziness.
A green drape soon covered his back, exposing only the wound area.
Minyoung deftly hooked up an IV to his arm.
So smooth he barely felt the needle.
"Using local anesthetic on the stitching area. Antibiotics too."
Filling an empty syringe, she tapped the needle and muttered.
Jaejeong asked,
"You have anesthetic?"
"I wondered if we even had any, but there's a ton of military medical supplies stocked. Lucky, huh."
Poke!
Jaejeong flinched again at the injection, and Kim Chan-yeol and Sergeant Choi's brow furrowed.
"But..."
Minyoung glanced sideways at them, aware, and continued,
"You two gonna stand there forever?"
"Uh..."
Sergeant Choi fumbled for an excuse, so Kim Chan-yeol stepped up.
"Are we done here, ma'am?"
"Yes, disinfection's finished. Want stitches too?"
"No, no. Just worried about my senior, haha."
"Nice loyalty."
The anesthetic hadn't fully kicked in yet, but Minyoung was already stitching the wound like a seamstress.
"So, when you gonna go casual with me?"
When Jaejeong didn't answer her question, the needle piercing skin moved sharply.
His immediate response:
"Got it, I'll go casual."
"Should've from the start."
With that, their conversation ended.
It felt even more awkward now, if anything.
Then, footsteps echoed from outside.
All eyes turned to the door.
A bald man in a white coat—Park Yi-hyun-seok—entered the hospital room.
He wasn't alone.
Lee Hyun-soo, looking like a bum, stood beside him.
"You hurt somewhere too?"
Minyoung asked, holding up her needle.
Hyun-soo swallowed hard at the sight.
Park Yi-hyun-seok glanced between the unconscious Beom-sik and the prone Jaejeong.
"I'm a stickler for principles by nature. I hate exceptions like this, but this guy was so stubborn I had no choice but to bring him."
All eyes shifted to Hyun-soo.
Park Yi-hyun-seok pressed on emphatically.
"He insists on staying by his side until he wakes. Savior of his life or whatever. They're moving quarters anyway, so I allowed it—but no trouble. Like being loud and disturbing patients' rest."
With that, Park Yi-hyun-seok left.
Hyun-soo pushed through the stares and sat by Beom-sik's bed.
"What a mess."
Minyoung muttered as she tied off the last stitch.
"Not like him at all."
"Tell me about it, ma'am."
Kim Chan-yeol agreed.
Sergeant Choi eyed the doorway where Park had left.
"That was him fishing for credit, right?"
"Sounds like it now that you mention."
"...Weird, though. Didn't know him long, but he's not that type. Right?"
"I thought the same, sir."
"I'm a pwinthiple man by natuwe. I hate thith kind of thing."
Sergeant Choi mimicked Park's speech, and Kim Chan-yeol chuckled loud enough to carry outside.
"Whoa, you crossed a line there, sir."
That was when it happened.
"Huh? Bro! You awake?"
Hyun-soo's voice rang out, and Jaejeong lifted his head from the table to look.
Lee Beom-sik's eyelids were slowly twitching.