The Prisoner?
The hallway from the showers back to the cafeteria felt somehow shorter than before. The searing warmth we had just shared still seemed to cling to my body and mind.
The moment we stepped into the cafeteria, though, that warmth froze solid.
Yang Jin-ju and Nam Jin-ju had already finished eating and stood waiting with their arms crossed. Their eyes had sharpened into axe blades, the kind of look proper wives give a cheating husband and his mistress as they prepare to interrogate them.
I averted my gaze out of pure guilt, but Yeong-ju was different. She dropped into the seat beside me with complete nonchalance, utterly unbothered. Then she met the two pairs of scorching stares head-on and delivered a single, concise word.
“What?”
That one syllable deflated their sharp momentum like air rushing out of a balloon.
“Ah, no… just… you were late, so…”
Yang Jin-ju mumbled.
Yeong-ju didn’t bother answering. Instead she changed the subject as if nothing had happened at all.
“So, that prisoner you tied up in the multipurpose room. Did she put up any real resistance?”
Both Jin-jus shook their heads.
“No. She was being extremely well-behaved.”
“Yes. It was like she was desperate not to give us any reason to kill her. When we told her to sit, she even turned her hands behind her back to make tying them easier. Excessively cooperative.”
Hearing that, the most fundamental question that had been nagging at me all last night finally surfaced.
“But…”
I looked at the three of them in turn.
“Why did you take her prisoner in the first place? Weren’t you supposed to just finish everyone off and come back?”
A strange silence settled over the cafeteria again.
After a long sigh, Yeong-ju explained why they had brought the woman back.
Last night
The building had collapsed. Seo Yeong-ju’s lower body was pinned beneath the rubble while she was still wearing the power suit. She stared blankly at the floating text in front of her eyes.
Multiple Strong Impacts Detected
Power Usage: 61%
She snapped back to herself and started clearing debris, then turned her head. A woman was staring blankly at her. One of those bastards from earlier? The woman kept staring for a moment longer, then suddenly drew a pistol and shouted that she would shoot if Yeong-ju moved.
At that absurd threat, Seo Yeong-ju snorted out a laugh.
“What? If you’re gonna shoot, shoot already. The second I get out of here, you’re dead anyway.”
She dismissed the woman as not worth her time and went back to clearing rubble. The woman watching her suddenly lowered the gun and sprinted straight at her. Right in front of Yeong-ju she dropped with a heavy thud and began slamming her forehead to the ground in full prostration.
“Please spare me! Please, please spare me! I won’t resist at all! I’ll definitely be useful, I swear!”
She even flung the pistol far away, nearly wailing, “That was my only weapon! I’m absolutely not an enemy!”
The massive explosion earlier had already drawn zombies toward them. Even seeing the undead approaching, the woman made no move to run. She only kept bowing and begging Yeong-ju for her life.
Yeong-ju watched in silence for a moment. The woman’s shoulders shook with terror as the zombies spotted them and closed in, yet she still desperately held the prostration posture. Finally Yeong-ju spoke, sounding annoyed.
“…For now, go hide in the shadow of that building debris over there.”
The woman reacted as if she had just been handed salvation. “Yes! Yes! Thank you!” she cried, scrambling up and vanishing into the shadows of the rubble.
Whether zombies came or not, Yeong-ju went back to yanking her buried lower body free. Before long the undead swarmed her suit and began biting. The sickening crunch of bone and metal grinding together filled the air.
About five minutes later she finally wrenched herself completely free. She shouted at the zombies still clinging to her in pure irritation.
“Ah, seriously, you’re so damn noisy I could die! Get off me, you bugs!”
She started cleaning house—stomping, punching, bursting them one by one or flinging them far away.
Once the immediate area was roughly clear and she was checking for stragglers, the rapid pitter-patter of someone running reached her ears.
It was the same woman. Ignoring the zombie blood and corpse fragments on the ground, she dropped to her knees again right in front of Yeong-ju, ready to prostrate herself once more.
“…Just kneel.”
Yeong-ju said it like she was already tired of dealing with her. The woman obediently stayed on her knees.
Right then Yeong-ju’s comms connected. What the three people back in the support room began watching was exactly that bizarre scene.
After hearing the whole story, my head only got more tangled. What I thought would be a straightforward night of revenge had suddenly changed genres into a mystery thanks to one unexpected prisoner.
“So she’s not a survivor from the group we wiped out? Or she is, and she just betrayed them?”
Yeong-ju scratched her chin, still arms crossed. Her eyes sharpened like a detective reviewing a complicated case file.
“Hard to say. The timing’s too perfect for her to be some random survivor who just happened to be passing by. And she had a gun—pistol or not. People with firearms aren’t exactly common around here.”
She paused, organizing her thoughts.
“But she didn’t shoot me on sight even after seeing me buried in rubble. If those were her people I just slaughtered right in front of her, she should’ve had some kind of grudge. Instead she begged me to spare her. She almost seems like an ordinary survivor… I don’t know. It doesn’t add up.”
Yang Jin-ju, who had been listening quietly, carefully offered an opinion.
“Maybe she was being held against her will in that group? So when Unni showed up and wiped them all out, she felt liberated…”
“Possible. But even then, isn’t she trusting us way too fast? We could be even worse trash than those bastards.”
Yeong-ju’s rebuttal dropped us all back into heavy silence.
That was when Nam Jin-ju suddenly cut in.
“She said she left that group today.”
The bombshell made every head snap toward her.
“How do you know that?”
Yang Jin-ju asked. Nam Jin-ju puffed out her chest proudly.
“While Unni and Oppa were in the shower I was guarding her alone, right?”
“So you asked her?”
Yeong-ju’s voice turned sharp. Nam Jin-ju looked thoroughly wronged.
“No! She said she was thirsty! Unni told me not to get close because it was dangerous, so I put water in a dish and pushed it over with my foot. She suddenly buried her face in it like a dog and started gulping, then ‘Thank you! Thank you! You’re my benefactor!’ and even though I didn’t say a single word she just started spilling everything—‘This is important information!’—her own background, other survivors she knows, the whole list! What was I supposed to do? Do you think I’m an idiot? I have that much sense!”
Yeong-ju and I watched the two friends bicker for a moment in silence. One shared glance was enough to know we were thinking the exact same thing.
I stood up from my chair.
“Let’s all go see her together.”
The real interrogation was only just beginning.
When we reached the multipurpose room she was sitting quietly against the wall, both hands (one still only the upper arm) bound behind her back. The second she saw us enter she hurriedly dropped to her knees and bowed her head low.
Before any of us could speak, she opened her mouth first.
“I-I’m… Kang Po-gyeong.”
A strange stillness filled the room.
Yeong-ju, Yang Jin-ju, Nam Jin-ju, and I all turned to look at one another with the same “Huh?” expression, as if we had rehearsed it.
She seemed used to exactly that reaction. Still bowing, she quickly continued.
“Ah—it’s only the same pronunciation as ‘whaling’ or the male circumcision procedure. My name uses the character for ‘embrace’ and the character for ‘compete.’ My grandfather gave it to me with the meaning of embracing every dispute and competition.”
The explanation rolled out smoothly, the practiced delivery of someone who had fielded this question countless times.
Yang Jin-ju awkwardly repeated, “Ah… right, Kang… Po-gyeong…” The unavoidable oddness of the sound still made her glance around at the rest of us for cues.
Kang Po-gyeong looked at her and smiled faintly.
“It’s fine. I’ve heard every variation since I was little—‘Powerful Po-gyeong,’ ‘Did you Po-gyeong today?’—I’m used to it by now.”
The sudden dry humor loosened the frozen atmosphere just a fraction.
Yeong-ju was unmoved. Arms still crossed, she spoke in a cold voice.
“I don’t care about that.”
She jerked her chin toward Nam Jin-ju.
“What you told Nam Jin-ju earlier—this one. Tell it again from the beginning, every single detail, no omissions.”
Kang Po-gyeong showed zero fluster. She answered as calmly as if she had prepared for this exact moment.
“Yes. I will report again.”
Head still bowed, she carefully repeated everything she had told Nam Jin-ju, point by point.
“I joined the survivor group in the five-story building I was with until just recently about two months ago. I left them today. In truth I had been watching for a chance to leave the entire time. They were not good people.”
She paused, gauging our reactions.
“Right now the Daegu city area is nearly pandemonium because of the sheer number of zombies. Even so, several large survivor groups are still holding out. The biggest force is almost certainly the remaining troops of the 50th Division. They took heavy losses when the main rescue units were wiped out early on, but the survivors regrouped and built the strongest power base. They are heavily armed and move with real discipline.”
This was concrete intelligence about the outside world we had never possessed.
“Under them there are roughly three smaller groups that either scavenged the 50th Division’s supplies or obtained weapons through other channels and grew their strength. The place I was staying was one of those.”
“Locations?”
Yeong-ju’s question was clipped.
“One near Seo-gu Office. Another has a base around Dongdaegu Station, as far as I know. The last one… I’m sorry, but they keep moving like nomads, so I don’t know a fixed location. I heard they are extremely dangerous and specialize in raiding.”
She drew a breath, then delivered the most important—and most terrifying—piece of information.
“And I don’t know if you’re already aware, but strange ones have started appearing little by little lately. Variants that run on all fours like dogs, variants with massively developed upper-body muscles that use raw superhuman strength, and even grotesque ones with long, thin limbs like spiders. Sightings of those have increased sharply. They are incomparably faster, stronger, and smarter than normal zombies.”
When she finished, heavy silence filled the multipurpose room.
Even after the report ended, Kang Po-gyeong carefully watched Yeong-ju’s face, clearly worried the information might still be insufficient.
“If this is not enough, what else would you like to know? I will tell you everything I know. Please—just spare my life.”
Her desperation was raw. Information was the only currency she had left to buy her survival.
Yeong-ju spent a long time sorting the data in her head before she finally spoke. Her question cut straight to the core of our most fundamental problem.
“Do you know anywhere we can get seeds or seedlings we can actually grow and eat? Not stuff past its expiration date—things that will definitely grow if we plant them.”
Kang Po-gyeong thought for a moment, then asked carefully.
“Ah… not just rice or wheat for immediate eating? You mean actual farming seeds?”
“Yeah. Solid info gets you a definite free pass.”
There was no room left for bargaining in Yeong-ju’s tone.
Kang Po-gyeong dug frantically through her memory. Cold sweat poured down her face; her lips dried and cracked. But the information Yeong-ju wanted simply was not there.
“…You don’t know?”
Yeong-ju’s voice was ice. Tears finally spilled from Kang Po-gyeong’s eyes.
“I-I’m sorry! Something else! Is there anything else you want to know? I can tell you everything I know, really! Please, please…”
She was almost wailing now.
“So you don’t know.”
Yeong-ju decided there was nothing more to get and turned her gaze toward Yang Jin-ju. Kang Po-gyeong followed that look, saw the pistol still holstered at Yang Jin-ju’s waist, and suddenly thrashed as if having a fit, pleading wildly.
“Wait! Wait, please! Just one more chance…! I’ll do anything! Cleaning, laundry, anything…!”
I couldn’t watch any longer. I started to say, “Yeong-ju, maybe we should just let her go outside—” when Yeong-ju simply nodded. Yang Jin-ju walked over without a word.
“No! Please! Spare me! I don’t want to die!”
Instead of drawing the gun, Yang Jin-ju untied the rope binding her.
Kang Po-gyeong, who had been waiting for death with tears and snot streaming down her face, made a small “Eh?” sound and just sat there staring blankly, unable to process what had happened.
“Some of the information you gave us was stuff we didn’t know. So for now, we’re sparing you.”
Yeong-ju said it flatly.
“And I said if you knew about the seeds I’d definitely spare you. I never said I’d kill you if you didn’t. You’re already this cooperative and this low to the ground—there’s no reason to kill you. We’ll keep you alive as a prisoner for now.”
At those words every last bit of tension seemed to leave Kang Po-gyeong’s body at once.
Shiiik—
The lower half of her military pants darkened rapidly as it soaked through.
“Ah…”
Yeong-ju and the two Jin-jus immediately looked guilty. “Ah, maybe we pushed her too hard…” they started murmuring. Then, as if she hadn’t even noticed she had wet herself, Kang Po-gyeong muttered with empty eyes and a strangely peaceful face.
“Ah…”
A faint smile touched her lips.
“…I remembered. The seeds… and the seedlings.”
With those final words she toppled sideways onto the floor and fainted clean away.