Kang Po-gyeong 3
Whirrr—
With a sharp mechanical whine, the metal rings that had been binding Kang Po-gyeong’s body all released at once.
I flinched, thinking her arm was still being formed, but Yang Jin-ju soon stepped closer, checked her condition, and spoke.
“…She seems to have fainted.”
Just as she said, Kang Po-gyeong appeared to have lost consciousness, unable to endure the overwhelming pain. The sudden silence that followed felt even more chilling. Even so, her body still trembled and convulsed as if the pain continued regardless of her awareness. Apparently the treatment machine adjusted its methods depending on whether the patient was conscious or not.
“I feel bad for her, but it really is amazing, isn’t it?”
For a long while we simply watched that horrific yet wondrous sight in silence.
A few days later
The treatment room door remained firmly shut. We took turns checking three times a day on the sleeping Kang Po-gyeong as she received nutrient fluid. Her arm, still wrapped in a white membrane, was now clearly reclaiming its original shape.
Whenever we entered to check on her, she would sometimes surface with agonized moans, scream something unintelligible, then slip under again. Each time Nam Jin-ju held her hand with a pitying expression, and Yang Jin-ju turned her head with a complicated look of her own.
At last we gathered once more around the cafeteria table to plan our next moves. Spread across the surface were the maps of the Shelter’s surroundings that Yang Jin-ju had meticulously organized, our resource inventory, and the data we had printed from the system window.
“First priority hasn’t changed—we still need to secure seeds.”
Yeong-ju spoke first. She was firm and precise, like a leader running a meeting.
“Once Kang Po-gyeong wakes up we’ll know the exact location. The real questions are how we get there and who goes. We have no idea how far it is or what kind of threats are waiting along the way.”
“Obviously we go in the Walker Suit. That’s the safest option, right? It was completely invincible!”
Nam Jin-ju answered in a slightly excited voice, as if the answer were self-evident.
“Invincible?”
Yeong-ju snorted.
“No. The suit’s tough, but it is absolutely not invincible.”
Her expression turned serious as she recalled the explosion that night.
“When I got caught in the blast inside that building, the entire HUD flooded with red warning messages. Multiple high-intensity area impacts detected. Power damaged sixty-one percent. More than half the energy gone in a single hit. If one or two more grenades had gone off, or if the gas-tank explosion had been even a little bigger, I would’ve been roasted alive inside that thing.”
At her vivid description Nam Jin-ju’s face went pale.
“The suit is our strongest weapon, but it is never all-powerful. The limits are clear. If one person goes out in it and gets pinned down like that or runs out of energy, it’s game over for real.”
Heavy silence settled over the table again. All of us had just confronted the reality that a long-range expedition with only a single suit was far too dangerous.
I sat lost in thought for a moment, then pulled up memories from the game and the faint clues left in the system window.
“…There might be another way. Not by building another suit.”
Three pairs of eyes swung toward me.
“We raise the Shelter to Level 3.”
“Level 3?”
“Yeah. In the game, once the Shelter hit Level 3 a new type of pioneer suit unlocked. It’s called the Foundation. Same labor-class suit as the Walker Suit we have now, but the role is a little different.”
I pieced the details together from memory and explained.
“In the game it was specialized for felling giant alien trees and digging foundations for construction. So it came standard with a high-output energy saw on the arm for cutting timber, plus an X-Shield—an energy barrier for fending off the alien bugs that tried to swarm you. Just a work suit on paper, but its close-combat power and defensive capability were way above the Walker Suit.”
The three women’s eyes lit up again.
“So if we have that suit, two people can go out together?”
Yang Jin-ju asked.
“Exactly. One person wears the current Walker Suit for long-range support and mobility; the other wears the Foundation Suit for close combat and defense. The team composition becomes a lot more stable.”
“Then the real issue is the conditions for reaching Level 3.”
Yeong-ju cut straight to the heart of it.
I opened the system window and checked the Shelter LV.3 Upgrade Conditions entry.
Shelter LV.3 Upgrade Conditions
Special Entity Hunt (2/3)
The question marks were gone; clear conditions now floated in their place. Beside them the number (2/3) shone brightly, showing we had already taken two.
“Special entity hunt?”
“Two out of three? So we’ve already killed two of them?”
Yang Jin-ju said in surprise.
I thought for a second, then fitted the pieces of memory together and understood.
“Wait—I think I’ve got it. The first one was the day we first arrived at the Shelter. The Defense System activated for the first time and scorched everything around us. That four-legged mutant we saw at the playground—the one that came after me—got caught inside the blast radius and died. That’s one.”
I raised a single finger.
“And the second was the first muscle-armor mutant that the Level 2 Defense System blew apart a few days ago. That’s two.”
Everyone nodded.
“…Then we really only need one more….”
Nam Jin-ju’s voice was full of anticipation.
“Yeah.”
Yeong-ju rose as if the decision had already been made. She jerked her chin toward the support room.
“Our next objective is set. We hunt that incomplete second calamity—the one that turned tail and ran the day we leveled up, after watching its own kind get vaporized!”
Our next goal was now crystal clear: hunt the incomplete mutant that had fled.
The problem was that we had no idea where the hell it had gone.
From that day on we took turns glued to the large screen in the support room, combing through every surveillance feed around the Shelter. The last place the second one had been sighted on the day the first one exploded, the direction it fled—every scrap of data was combined to reconstruct its probable path.
“This way.”
After several days of analysis Yang Jin-ju pointed to a spot on the map.
“It fled almost in a straight line to the northeast. Follow that route and you hit the commercial building where we first met, plus the area Kang Po-gyeong said was Park Seok-su’s old hideout.”
“So it really is that direction.”
I nodded at her analysis.
“Then the plan is simple.”
Yeong-ju folded her arms and delivered the verdict. Her voice carried the cold resolve of a predator about to hunt.
“I put on the suit, scout that sector, find it, and lure it back toward the Shelter. The Defense System does the actual killing—not us.”
It sounded like the safest, most certain method. I stepped in front of her anyway.
“No. This time it’s my turn.”
Yeong-ju stared at me in surprise.
“What are you talking about? I handle the suit better. Mobility, combat ability—it’s far more efficient if I go.”
I shook my head.
“Last time you took every risk alone. This time I’m going out. This isn’t about efficiency. It isn’t only your fight.”
I looked straight into her eyes and put every ounce of sincerity into the words.
For a long moment Yeong-ju simply stared at me. I could see a storm of thoughts crossing behind her gaze. At last she let out a deep sigh and nodded.
“…Fine. But don’t push it. The second it feels dangerous, you come straight back. Please.”
The next dawn
I donned the steel armor once more and stepped out into the darkness. This time I did not charge in blindly the way I had before. There was only one objective: find it and lure it.
Using the night’s shadows I moved silently and swiftly toward the target zone. After a full month of Shelter comfort, my body was reclaiming its wild instincts.
When I finally reached the familiar commercial building I hid myself and began scanning the surroundings. It did not take long to find the creature.
It was crouched on the rooftop of a ruined building like a starving beast. In front of it the corpses of other zombies lay piled like a mountain.
Something was wrong.
I zoomed in with the HUD and studied its form carefully. A chill ran down my spine.
It was no longer the incomplete mutant we had known.
The left arm that had been grotesquely twisted a month ago was now covered in perfect, solid muscle armor identical to the right. Over the past month it had finished its own incomplete body by devouring countless zombies.
It had evolved into a perfect predator equal to—or greater than—the first one we had barely managed to kill with the Defense System.
I held my breath and reported the horrific discovery over the comms.
“Found it. But we’ve got a problem. It evolved. It’s not incomplete anymore.”
A short silence answered from the support room. That silence was thick with the three women’s shock and tension.
“Got it.”
Yeong-ju was the first to recover her composure.
“Don’t get any closer for now. Keep as much distance as you can so it doesn’t notice you, and map out its behavior patterns. No rash moves.”
Following her orders I watched its every action from the rooftop for a long time, like a documentary director. It never stopped hunting and devouring the surrounding zombies, flaunting its strength as if the entire district were its personal hunting ground.
“That thing learns fast. Simple noise barely registers. But it has a strong fixation on moving targets—especially living ones.”
I relayed the analysis.
“Then a simple noise lure won’t work either.”
Yang Jin-ju’s voice came through.
“Right. The bait has to move on its own.”
Which meant I had to step directly into the monster’s line of sight, provoke it, and drag it all the way back to the Shelter.
“…It’s more dangerous than I thought, Seo Yeong-chan.”
Yeong-ju’s worried voice reached me, but my decision was already set.
“It’s fine. This suit is a lot faster than it looks. I can shake it off.”
I transmitted the final plan over the comms.
“I’m going to lure it and run straight for the Shelter. The second it crosses into the Defense System’s maximum three-hundred-meter range, you switch to manual and hit its legs first. Slowing it down is priority one. Clear?”
“Clear. Be careful.”
I drew a deep breath and leapt from the rooftop. Then I deliberately made noise, hurling a rock toward the building where it crouched.
Clang!
At the sharp sound the creature finally tore its attention from its feast and looked at me. The instant its eyes locked onto me as prey, I turned and sprinted madly toward the Shelter without a backward glance.
KRAAAAAA—
An enraged roar exploded behind me.
It was far faster than I had imagined. It was not running on two legs. Its massively enlarged arms dragged along the ground; it planted them like a gorilla and launched itself forward in explosive bounds. I redlined the suit’s output and tore through the ruined city, vaulting between buildings and sliding past heaps of wrecked cars.
Yet something felt off. Even while it chased me relentlessly, it kept a constant distance—almost as if it were deliberately refusing to catch me and simply watching where I was headed.
“Weird… It’s not just chasing. It’s too relaxed.”
Yeong-ju’s uneasy voice came through.
When I finally hit the straight stretch where the Shelter came into view, I kicked off the ground with every last scrap of strength.
“Three hundred meters! Entering range!”
At the same moment Yang Jin-ju shouted, the transparent glass of the support-room dome slid open and the manual attack system opened fire.
Thoom. Thoom.
Two shots streaked precisely toward both of its legs. In that instant the creature flung its body sideways with unbelievable agility and dodged clean. Instead of charging me it simply stopped.
Krrruk?
It stood just outside the exact boundary of the Defense System’s range, staring at me and making a sound that almost seemed like a sneer through its grotesquely twisted face.
It had known. Whether it had watched our earlier test firings or simply calculated the new attack radius, it had already figured out exactly how far the Shelter’s guns could reach.
“That crazy bastard calculated everything?”
Yeong-ju’s voice cracked with shock. I skidded to a halt and faced the creature. The lure operation had failed.
It glared at me for a long moment, roaring a threat that said it would come no closer. Then it turned its back without the slightest hesitation and vanished once more into the darkness. Watching it recede, I collapsed onto the ground and gasped for air.
The first hunt had failed.