Finding a Means of Transportation 5
We were soon guided by the man who had returned and stepped inside the massive fortress walls.
The men who had first blocked our path helped us pack the items we had laid out back into the bags. In the process, though, they slyly slipped one or two iron spoons or chopsticks into their own pockets. For the sake of the deal, I decided to overlook their petty thievery for now.
We entered and were led to a single-story building at the center—noticeably cleaner and better maintained than anywhere else. It looked as if it had once served as a community center or some other public facility.
A large conference table and several chairs occupied the middle of the room. I had Yang Jin-ju and Kang Po-gyeong sit while I stood beside them like a bodyguard. They hid in my shadow and began whispering about what was about to unfold.
The scene inside the walls as we moved had been far more orderly than I expected. People bustled about repairing buildings or maintaining weapons, each performing their assigned roles. This was no mere refuge for survivors. It was already becoming a small village in its own right.
“...I didn’t think it would be this developed.”
When I voiced my surprise, Yang Jin-ju agreed.
“Right? It’s really impressive.”
“I didn’t realize it had come this far since I last visited either. Sim Geum-a—that woman’s capabilities must be truly remarkable.”
Kang Po-gyeong spoke with genuine awe in her voice.
While we were still whispering, the door opened and two women walked in.
The one who entered first was tall for a woman—easily 175 centimeters—with a solid, muscular build free of any excess fat. As she approached she gave me a once-over, then dropped into the chair opposite Yang Jin-ju and Kang Po-gyeong without the slightest hesitation. The shorter woman who followed stood quietly behind her.
“Nice to meet you. I’m the one in charge here—Sim Geum-a.”
The tall woman spoke in a low, husky voice. So this was Sim Geum-a after all.
“I’m Yang Jin-ju. This is Kang Po-gyeong, and this is… my subordinate and bodyguard.”
Yang Jin-ju introduced herself calmly.
Sim Geum-a made a thoughtful “hm—” sound as she looked us over one by one, then smirked.
“I get that you want to trade… and the goods you brought happen to be exactly a lot of what we need, so trading would be fine.”
She seemed to open the door to negotiation with positive talk.
“...But depending on what you want, the conversation might change a bit, right?”
She wiped the smile clean off her face, adjusted her posture, pulled a cigarette from her pocket, stuck it between her lips, and lit it.
Sim Geum-a studied us slowly and relentlessly, as if trying to see straight through us. She took a long drag on the cigarette.
“Hup… hoo….”
White smoke drifted from her mouth and scattered into the air.
“You’ve all put on some nice plump flesh. Looking at that, it wouldn’t be food you’re after….”
She muttered softly while eyeing Yang Jin-ju.
“And seeing you in those funny-colored matching uniforms, clothes or shoes don’t look particularly urgent either….”
She glanced at our Shelter-issue gray training suits, smirked again, and continued.
“I really have no idea.”
She planted her elbows on the table and leaned toward us.
“What the hell do you people want? Guns? Bombs? Or maybe… some useful women or men from among our kids?”
At her blatant, provocative question, just as Yang Jin-ju was about to answer, Kang Po-gyeong spoke first. Her voice remained calm and firm, completely uncowed by Sim Geum-a’s presence.
“About a month ago I witnessed a trade with Park Seok-su’s group. At that time your group arrived in a working one-ton truck. Do you still have it?”
Sim Geum-a’s eyes widened for a moment.
“Oh? When did you see us? You know that bastard Park Seok-su?”
She asked sharply, but instead of answering, Kang Po-gyeong simply restated their demand with perfect clarity.
“We are looking for a functioning vehicle.”
At that single sentence a taut tension began to fill the conference room.
“Heh… damn, this is crazy.”
Faced with Kang Po-gyeong’s unflinching attitude, Sim Geum-a let out a nervous, incredulous laugh. She stubbed her cigarette out in the ashtray and immediately lit another. Then she blew a long stream of white smoke deliberately toward us as she continued.
“Hey. What the hell are you people really?”
Her gaze had grown far sharper.
“People who look like they eat well and live well… just need one ‘car’? That scrap-metal heap that makes noise every time it moves and drags zombie bastards after it? Even we only use it inside these walls if we can help it.”
Now she pulled her upper body almost all the way across the table, glaring at us as she spoke.
“Looks like you’ve got somewhere pretty far to go, huh? Right?”
Yang Jin-ju stayed silent for a long while. Then she answered, forcing a casual tone.
“...There’s some cargo we need to bring from somewhere, and the size is large. Distance doesn’t matter.”
Sim Geum-a stared at her fixedly, as if trying to bore straight through to the bone. Then, as if losing interest, she smirked.
“Fine. We don’t have much use for one truck either, so we can hand it over. Of course the amount of goods you brought is nowhere near enough, so we’ll have to factor in the quantities you’ll deliver later.”
She leaned back against the chair and sat upright again.
“But you know….”
She flicked the cigarette to the floor and crushed it thoroughly under her combat boot. Then, very slowly, she turned her head and looked straight at me standing beside Yang Jin-ju.
“A deal this big is supposed to be done boss to boss, one-on-one, isn’t it?”
A leisurely, cruel smile that said she already knew everything curved her lips.
“So I want to talk properly with you—the boss on that side.”
At those words all three of us froze. Our clumsy performance had been completely seen through from the very beginning, right in the palm of that fox-like woman’s hand.
“I don’t know what you mean. I’m the one in charge.”
Yang Jin-ju spoke, fighting to hide her fluster. Kang Po-gyeong backed her up at once.
“That’s correct. Our side’s person in charge is Yang Jin-ju-nim here.”
But Sim Geum-a ignored their desperate acting and simply kept staring at me as if trying to pierce straight through.
Jin-ju and Kang Po-gyeong tried to say more, but Sim Geum-a raised a hand as if annoyed and cut them off. Then, very slowly, as if instructing a child, she began to speak.
“Trying to put on a little act, wearing that weird armor-like thing and even covering your face….”
She jerked her chin toward me.
“If you’re a subordinate and bodyguard, you don’t stand side by side with your superior like that. It makes it look like that person’s authority is being ignored. Doesn’t it?”
She pointed to the female adjutant standing like a shadow behind her.
“And even so, a bodyguard who doesn’t cover the door side and just stands casually with the door at his back is pretty strange too…. You haven’t glanced toward the door even once since earlier. Like someone with eyes in the back of his head.”
She paused and took a deep drag.
“...And the decisive part—those two bitches. They’re trying hard not to get caught, but at every important moment they keep glancing at you. Like asking, ‘Are we doing okay right now?’ Why would a subordinate do that? Because you’re the superior. They’re unconsciously waiting for your decision.”
At her words we could no longer offer any excuse.
“So.”
She continued.
“Are you going to keep wearing that weird armor? If you’re not going to show your face and talk properly, then just… leave. We’ll call the deal off. I don’t trade with cowards who won’t even show their faces.”
She gestured to the woman behind her. The adjutant quickly handed over a fresh pack of cigarettes, and Sim Geum-a lit a new one with perfect natural ease.
Now the choice rested entirely with me.
My head was a mess. Sim Geum-a’s sharp observations had shattered our clumsy performance to pieces. Yang Jin-ju and Kang Po-gyeong looked just as flustered; they said nothing, only stared at me with stiff faces.
After watching us for a long while, Sim Geum-a finally shook her head and, as if losing interest, started to rise from her seat.
“Hoo… damn it.”
I muttered a quiet curse.
“...Let’s talk.”
At those words her body paused mid-rise, then she dropped back into the chair.
She gestured to the subordinate behind her.
“You. Take those two outside and carefully check the quantity and condition of everything they brought. Make a full list of anything else we need on our side and coordinate whether they can deliver more.”
The shorter woman answered, “Got it. I’ll set provisional quantities and coordinate for now,” then approached Yang Jin-ju and Kang Po-gyeong.
“Shall we go?”
The two looked at me with startled eyes. To reassure them I leaned close and whispered very softly.
“Don’t worry. From the way she’s talking, she definitely intends to deal. Just go along for now. And… if anything gets dangerous, scream no matter what. I’ll come running right away. Got it?”
Whether she had overheard the whisper or simply anticipated what I would say, Sim Geum-a across the table spoke as if annoyed.
“Relax. We won’t eat you. We at least do business honestly.”
Once the two uneasy women and Sim Geum-a’s subordinate left the room, I slowly deactivated the suit. With a soft chik— the suit opened; the inflated artificial muscles deflated, and I stepped out from inside it.
“Wow… seriously, what the hell are you people? Some government black-ops unit or something?”
Sim Geum-a said it with genuine admiration at the sight.
“I’m the one in charge on our side… Seo Yeong-chan.”
Only then did she tear her eyes from the suit. She looked at me and grinned.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Sim Geum-a.”
She stuck another cigarette between her lips, lit it, and blew a thick stream of smoke as she spoke.
“Then now, as leaders… shall we have a real talk?”
