The Mutant's Barrage
Thud—
Thud. Thud.
Dull impacts rang through the entire support room at irregular intervals. On the screen, the mutant was snatching up every scrap of debris around it like a pitcher possessed and hurling them straight at our Shelter.
Chunks of shattered concrete, dented car doors, even an uprooted streetlight. The objects it threw flew wildly, either slamming into the Force Shield and dropping limply or skimming past by a hair’s breadth.
We stood frozen for a moment, unable to move in the face of that shocking spectacle. The simple fact that our sanctuary—something that had felt absolutely inviolable—was now helplessly exposed to external physical attack hit harder than any of us had imagined.
“Power… we need to check the remaining power!”
I was the first to snap out of it. I bolted to the console, fingers flying across the screen to pull up the Shelter’s detailed status window. Just like before, the remaining power and water levels were updating in real time.
Every time one of the rocks the mutant threw slammed into the Force Shield, a tiny fraction of power was spent repairing it. After several impacts the total had dropped by roughly 0.1%.
“Thank god…”
Yang Jin-ju let out a long breath of relief after checking the numbers.
“The power being used is still far less than what the system recharges on its own. At this rate, even if that thing keeps it up all day by itself, the shield isn’t going to go down.”
She finished speaking and reached back to take Nam Jin-ju’s trembling hand. Nam Jin-ju kept rubbing her arms as if goosebumps refused to leave her skin.
“It’s okay, Jin-ju. We’re still safe.”
Those words let both Nam Jin-ju and me relax for a moment. But then Yeong-ju’s cold voice cut straight through our complacency.
“We’re fine for now… but this is still a huge problem.”
She stood with her arms crossed, tapping her finger against her arm in a steady rhythm—the habit she fell into whenever she was either anxious or deep in thought. Her expression remained grim as she stared at the screen. When I asked why, she turned and looked me dead in the eye.
“Right now it’s only one of them throwing things, so the recharge rate is still higher. That’s lucky. But what if there are more like that?”
The single sentence snapped my gaze, Yang Jin-ju’s, and Nam Jin-ju’s back to the creature on the screen.
She was right. Who could guarantee that a monster with that kind of overwhelming strength and learning intelligence was the only one of its kind left in the world?
Yeong-ju never took her eyes off the feed as she continued.
“Two of them, maybe the power could still hold. But the second three of them start throwing rocks at the same time, the consumption will definitely outpace the recharge. The shield… will go down eventually. Guaranteed.”
The worst-case scenario sent a chill down all our spines. She glanced between a terrified Nam Jin-ju and a frozen Yang Jin-ju, then locked eyes with me again.
“We need a plan.”
It was the cold reality that we no longer had the luxury of lounging in the comfort of this Shelter.
Thud.
Thud.
Even as we left the support room, the dull impacts chased us down the corridor. As if by unspoken agreement we hurried straight to the cafeteria. Just getting that nightmare out of our direct line of sight made it a little easier to breathe.
We each grabbed a drink or coffee and sat around a table, but no one spoke right away. The bright lights and cozy atmosphere of the cafeteria felt jarringly alien next to the merciless world outside the walls.
Yeong-ju was the one who broke the silence, of course.
“First let’s take stock of the cards we actually have.”
She tapped the table with her finger, arms still crossed.
“The only weapons we can use right this second are the three K-2 rifles and two pistols we brought with us, plus whatever ammo is left.”
She took a sip of coffee, steadying herself, then drove the point home with a heavy sigh.
“…But honestly, I don’t think any of that is going to work on the thing outside.”
No one argued.
After a moment of thought, Yang Jin-ju nodded in agreement.
“I think the same. I don’t believe the invisible attacks from the Shelter’s Defense System are weaker than our bullets. It did run outside the range, so the system must have some effect, but it barely took any damage. That muscle armor of its isn’t going to be pierced by ordinary weapons.”
We sank into heavy silence again. The only means of attack we possessed were useless against the enemy—a thoroughly despairing reality.
A little later Yeong-ju floated another possibility.
“Then… what if we raise the Shelter’s level?”
Every pair of eyes swung toward her at once.
“That suit in the support room. You said wearing it makes you stronger and tougher against most impacts.”
I shook my head.
“The suit’s impressive, sure, but by game standards it’s the lowest-grade labor-assist model. It’s for mining ore, not combat. Better than nothing, but nowhere near enough to take on that monster. And we haven’t even seen its real power yet.”
Yeong-ju glared at me like I was being deliberately dense.
“Not the suit. The Shelter itself. When the Shelter levels up, the shield and the Defense System level up with it, right?”
The words hit me like a hammer. I’d completely forgotten. I frantically dug through my memories of the game. Yes—exactly. The base, the Shelter’s level, was directly tied to the baseline performance of every facility. Raising it increased the power core’s maximum output and efficiency, which in turn unlocked higher durability and recharge rates for the Force Shield, higher attack power and fire rate for the Defense System—everything. It was a fundamental upgrade on a completely different scale from upgrading individual facilities one by one.
I shot to my feet, unable to hide the excitement.
“You’re right! You’re completely right! If we raise the Shelter level, the Force Shield’s durability and power efficiency go up, and the Defense System’s attack power and rate of fire get stronger too! Even if it doesn’t become strong enough to kill that thing outright, at least the maximum power capacity increases and the self-recharge speeds up! Then we could hold out even if three or four more of those things show up!”
I shouted it with pure joy. At last we had found the one clear ray of hope that could break this hopeless situation.
But Yeong-ju wasn’t looking at me. She was quietly staring across the table at Yang Jin-ju.
Yang Jin-ju understood the meaning of that gaze instantly. Her face flushed bright red and she dropped her head.
Yeong-ju’s expression was as surly as ever, but right now it was sharp as a drawn blade. Yang Jin-ju, skewered clean through, sat frozen like a criminal caught red-handed. An icy silence settled over the cafeteria once more.
“Yang Jin-ju.”
Her voice was low and quiet.
“Come talk with me for a minute?”
She stood and walked out of the cafeteria without a moment’s hesitation. Yang Jin-ju hesitated, then followed with heavy steps, as if resigning herself.
Only Nam Jin-ju and I were left behind in the empty cafeteria.
“Um… Oppa…?”
Nam Jin-ju looked at me with anxious eyes and spoke carefully. Even though she was the same age as Yang Jin-ju, she always used polite speech with me.
“This… happened before too, right? About ten days ago, the day Jin-ju came out after talking alone with you in your room. Yeong-ju Unni looked really angry that day too…”
Her words brought back that strange private conversation with Yang Jin-ju ten days earlier and the way Yeong-ju had appeared right afterward. The air between us had been subtly different ever since.
“Yeah… it did.”
“I thought I’d gotten a lot closer to Yeong-ju Unni lately, so I’ve been trying to work out with her and talk more… but I guess it still wasn’t enough. It feels like Unni’s still really wary of Jin-ju…”
Nam Jin-ju pouted, genuinely upset. In those pure eyes, the complicated power struggles between older sisters and older brothers just looked difficult and sad.
After a moment of thought she clenched her fists, as if making a firm decision.
“I can’t just leave it like this! From now on I’m going to stick to Yeong-ju Unni like glue! I’ll figure out everything she likes and everything she hates and become her best friend! Then maybe she’ll let her guard down around Jin-ju a little, right?”
That pure, slightly ridiculous determination made me snort out a laugh before I could stop myself. Even in this desperate situation, her bright, positive energy was an invisible strength for all of us.
“Yeah. Give it a shot. Oppa will cheer you on.”
I ruffled her hair. Under the bright cafeteria lights, Nam Jin-ju and I waited for the two of them with uneasy hearts.
Seo Yeong-ju and Yang Jin-ju left the cafeteria and walked the long, quiet corridor. Yeong-ju’s back as she led the way was as cold as winter; Yang Jin-ju’s footsteps behind her were heavy.
Without a single word they stopped in front of the empty multipurpose room. Yeong-ju opened the door without hesitation and stepped inside.
In one corner was the makeshift workout space Yeong-ju had set up. The smell of sweat mixed with the complicated emotions of the two women and filled the empty room. Yeong-ju leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, and fixed her gaze on Yang Jin-ju.
Yang Jin-ju read the atmosphere and stood awkwardly against the opposite wall, posture completely shrunk like a suspect who’d just walked into an interrogation room. That cold, silent stare pressed down on her harder than any shouted insult. She tried to escape it by staring at the floor.
“Yang Jin-ju?”
“Y-yeah.”
After a moment Yeong-ju broke the suffocating silence first.
“It feels weird for me to be the one saying this, but…”
Her voice was low and completely free of emotion.
“Right now you don’t need to build affection. You need to decide to just straight-up seduce him.”
Yang Jin-ju’s shoulders visibly flinched. She lifted her head in shock and stared at Yeong-ju, eyes full of confusion and bewilderment.
Seeing that expression, Yeong-ju gave a faint, bitter smile of understanding.
“I get that it sounds weird coming from me—telling you to seduce him…”
“No, it’s not that… more like it was sudden? I… thought I was going to get scolded…”
Yang Jin-ju stammered.
At that, Yeong-ju smiled a little and slid down the wall to sit on the floor.
“I appreciate you worrying about my feelings, but right now we have to think about this Shelter more than that.”
After a brief hesitation Yang Jin-ju carefully sat down against the wall beside her and waited for the next words.
“There’s some freakish monster outside and we’re in here fighting over one guy. It’s pretty ridiculous, right? If we’re not careful we all die.”
Yang Jin-ju answered in a small voice.
“Yeah. Thank you… for saying that.”
“So if you’re going to do it, push hard and do it fast. If registering as a Companion this way doesn’t work, then we really will have to prepare to go outside together. We’re out of time.”
When Yeong-ju pressed her, Yang Jin-ju’s face flushed slightly and her voice shrank even more.
“Okay. I understand.”
Yeong-ju delivered one final, decisive line like a finishing blow.
“And just so you know—the reason I can say all this so casually is because after spending so much time together lately I’ve started feeling this weird confidence like, ‘Ah, this bastard really does like me, doesn’t he?’ So you don’t need to worry about me. Just focus on your own plan and push hard. Got it?”
At that blunt declaration Yang Jin-ju’s face turned the reddest it had been all day. She couldn’t lift her head and barely managed to answer in a voice that was almost a whisper.
“Yeah… I got it.”
After that strange and dangerous pact was sealed, the heavy air in the multipurpose room lightened as if it had all been a lie. The guilt and anxiety that had been crushing Yang Jin-ju’s shoulders vanished in the face of Yeong-ju’s bold permission; she no longer felt like a criminal.
On the way back to the cafeteria a more comfortable atmosphere settled between them than before.
“Ah, right.”
In that easier mood, Yeong-ju, walking ahead, suddenly stopped as if something had just occurred to her and turned around.
“Come to think of it—you!”
She crooked a finger at Yang Jin-ju. When Yang Jin-ju stepped closer with a questioning “Hm?” Yeong-ju smirked and casually threw an arm around her shoulders. Yang Jin-ju’s body went rigid at the sudden contact. A subtle scent different from the sweat of her earlier workout with Nam Jin-ju drifted from Yeong-ju.
“If…”
Yeong-ju leaned in close to the frozen Yang Jin-ju’s ear and whispered low, but with absolute clarity.
“So if you end up… doing it with that guy, okay?”
She paused, watching Yang Jin-ju flinch and look away at the crude wording.
“From that moment on you call me Unni, just like Nam Jin-ju, and you use polite speech. Even if we end up attached to the same man, I was first and I’m older. Got it?”
The words balanced on a razor-thin line between joke and absolute seriousness. But underneath them was a clear declaration: I’ll allow your actions, but the initiative in this relationship still belongs to me.
Yeong-ju held Yang Jin-ju’s eyes for a moment, left those words hanging, then smoothly released her shoulder. She walked off toward the cafeteria as if nothing had happened.
Left alone, Yang Jin-ju stood frozen for a while before letting out a long, empty laugh as if the breath she’d been holding had finally escaped.
She’s really something else.
She shook her head hard, trying to shake off the shock of a moment ago, then finally managed to move her feet and follow after Yeong-ju.