Drone
The next morning, Yang Jin-ju and I climbed back into the truck.
This time, most of the cargo was the clean water Choi Eun-ji had specifically requested, along with a few household goods we'd made last time. Barely two days later, we were heading for Sim Geum-a's territory once more.
When that massive wall came back into view, I let out a deep sigh without meaning to.
"What's wrong, Oppa?"
Yang Jin-ju must have heard it.
"Nothing… just feels like we're coming here way too often. At this rate, I'm going to get attached…."
At the wall, the same white guy who spoke perfect Korean was on watch again, same as every other time. Guess he's the daytime security lead, I thought.
"Hey! You guys again? Hang on a sec—I'll open it right up!"
Unlike before, someone must have given advance orders. The gate swung open almost immediately.
Two men came out to guide the vehicle, just like last time, while the white guy walked toward us with a gun in hand.
"Good to see you so often! When you show up, our boss is in a better mood—she slips us a little extra water!"
He said it with a grin and stuck out his hand like he wanted a handshake.
"Name's Popov Dmitry. Just call me Dima."
I looked at his hand for a moment. If we were going to keep a steady supply of resources coming in, a little goodwill wouldn't hurt. I deactivated the suit.
"What the—!"
"That wasn't armor?"
Aside from Sim Geum-a and Choi Eun-ji, these were the first men to see me step out of the suit. They all shouted in shock.
Dima froze mid-handshake, hand still outstretched, face blank with surprise.
I climbed fully free of the suit and took his hand.
"Seo Yeong-chan. Nice to meet you."
"…Ничего себе… Fuck…."
He muttered some mixed Russian exclamation I couldn't follow and just nodded, dazed.
Right then, Choi Eun-ji came sprinting toward us from a distance, out of breath.
"W-welcome! Just a moment—huff, huff—good to see you again so soon."
I returned her greeting. Yang Jin-ju finished parking and climbed down to say hello as well.
"Hello? Choi Eun-ji… right?"
"Yes, that's correct. Whew… it's been a while, Yang Jin-ju."
Then she said, "Please, come inside first. The boss will be here shortly," and started walking ahead, still a little winded.
The moment we stepped into the same meeting room as before, the door burst open and Sim Geum-a came rushing in, gasping for air.
"Wow—huff, huff—my younger man, back already? Missed me that much?"
We sat and waited while she caught her breath. She pulled out a cigarette, stuck it between her lips without lighting it, and dropped into a chair.
"So. What brings you this time?"
She toyed with a lighter as she asked.
I was about to ask why she hadn't lit it when Choi Eun-ji, standing behind her, answered for her.
"We're almost out of cigarettes.
Now that she can see how few are left, she just holds one and thinks about it—only lights up when she really needs to."
"Hey! You don't have to tell him all that!"
Sim Geum-a grumbled. I remembered the "luxury goods" column in the processing room inventory—cigarettes had been listed. We just didn't have tobacco leaves to make them.
"Shame. If we had tobacco leaves, those could've been trade goods…."
At my muttered remark, Choi Eun-ji and Sim Geum-a's eyes both lit up for a second—but I didn't dwell on it and got to the point.
"Anyway, the reason I came today is to give you a heads-up. From now on, when you gather scrap for us, focus on four things: iron, plastic, copper, and rubber."
Sim Geum-a glanced back at Choi Eun-ji.
"Shouldn't be hard. Most of what we're collecting already is metal and wiring anyway."
Choi Eun-ji told her, and Sim Geum-a looked at me and said, cheerfully, "Deal!"
"And… this one's more immediate. I need gold."
"Gold?"
"Yeah. Gold. Pure gold if you can manage it."
Sim Geum-a and Choi Eun-ji exchanged a look, thought for a moment, then Sim Geum-a asked again.
"Gold as in… English gold, the precious metal. Right?"
"Right. Right now I only need about three grams of pure gold, but I'll need more later."
"What for? Making some kind of ornament? Jewelry?"
I hesitated at her question.
Do I just tell her straight that I'm building a drone? Yang Jin-ju, sitting beside me, gave my arm a light pinch and whispered.
"(Oppa, are you really going to say you're building a drone? Or should we just brush it off and not answer?)"
She was clearly wrestling with how much of our information we should reveal to a group we'd keep needing resources from.
We traded a look, nodded to each other, and I turned back to Sim Geum-a.
"I'm trying to build a drone. It needs a little gold, so I'm looking for some."
At my honest answer, Yang Jin-ju stared at me in shock and muttered under her breath,
Why would you just say "drone"? You could've said "machine parts"….
"Sorry, Jin-ju. We're going to keep needing stuff from them anyway.
Feels weird to keep lying every time. Being straight about it seemed easier."
Watching us, Sim Geum-a let out a hollow laugh.
"A drone? Ha! I appreciate the trust, but… believing that word right now is a bit of a stretch…."
She closed her eyes, leaned back in her chair like the thought unsettled her—
and finally lit the cigarette she'd only been holding.
Then she blew a thick plume of smoke toward the ceiling, deliberate and showy.
"If you'd said you were making jewelry, I might've bought it easier."
Through the dense smoke, she fixed me with a look that felt like it could cut straight through.
"People are like that. Once their bellies are full and their backs are warm, they start eyeing luxury.
Looking at my younger man here, both of those apply.
I figured those pretty girls you keep around were nagging you for a little something fancy."
She dragged hard on the cigarette, crushed the spent butt in the ashtray, and immediately stuck a fresh one between her lips.
"But only three grams? Not even a full don—wanting that tiny amount….
Means it isn't luxury. Means I actually have to believe this 'drone' thing of yours."
She took another deep pull and exhaled into the air.
Then, as if she'd made up her mind, she stubbed the cigarette out and spoke to Choi Eun-ji.
"Go round people up. Tell them anyone who turns in gold scraps—anything—gets double food and water starting with tonight's ration.
Prioritize pure gold! As fast as possible!"
Choi Eun-ji shot me a quick glance, said, "Got it. I'll gather what I can and bring it," then walked over to Jin-ju. "Let's at least check the resources we've already collected," she said, and before Jin-ju could finish her "Huh? Wait—now?" she was already being led outside at a brisk pace.
That left only Sim Geum-a and me in the room.
"Alright."
She leaned across the table toward me.
"Now tell me for real. Eun-ji's gone, so this stays between us."
Her eyes burned more intently than I'd ever seen them.
"My younger man—what's your actual identity?"
"Some secret society? Freemasons, something like that?"
The look in her eyes was genuine. She wasn't testing me anymore.
She truly wanted to know who I was.
"Or a black-ops government outfit? American CIA? Or else… aliens, maybe?"
With a faintly trembling hand, she put another cigarette to her lips.
"Right now… whatever my younger man says, I think I could believe all of it.
This world's already gone crazy enough."
I sat with it for a long time.
How much do I tell her?
Under that relentless probing, I finally decided to show her the bare minimum of the truth.
"I…."
I chose my words carefully, circling around it.
"…have something. Something very advanced."
"Something… advanced?"
Sim Geum-a repeated it slowly, turning the idea over in her head.
"Yeah. Everything I've brought you—the goods, the clean water—all of it was made with that and brought here."
When I finished, she stared into my eyes for a long stretch in silence, as if weighing whether I was telling the truth.
"…That thing you 'have'… is it like those prepper types I used to see online?
A facility they built ahead of time for the end of the world? A bunker or something?"
I felt a flicker of admiration—no matter how hard I tried to hide it, this remarkable woman was going to get close to the truth eventually. With a faint smile, I nodded.
Seeing that nod, Sim Geum-a suddenly flung her cigarette aside, stood up from her chair, and came toward me.
Then, as naturally as breathing, she climbed into my lap.
"W-what—why are you—!"
I startled. She ground her soft hips against my thighs and whispered into my ear, hot breath brushing my skin.
"Today… can't we have sex before you go?"
"A younger man with a facility that incredible must have plenty of pretty women around him already. So… what if you throw me away? Makes me nervous, you know?"
The feel of her soft ass and that sweet voice tickling my ear nearly snapped the last thread of my self-control—but I managed, barely, to turn my head and push through the temptation.
"…Next time. Next time I come, we will."
Being a man, I couldn't quite shut it down completely….