Back to the Front Lines

"What the hell are you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠two doing here?"

Behind the massive iron gate, Sim Geum-a had been making her final preparations for the assault when she caught sight of Choi Eun-ji and Dima standing right beside her. She frowned.

"You. In the middle of all this chaos, I figured you'd forget the three minutes were up," Choi Eun-ji said, checking her rifle with complete calm. "I'm here to keep time for you."

"And me! Boss took me in after I ran from gang life all the way out in Russia, treated me right!" Dima declared in his usual fluent Korean, every word thick with sincerity. "I can't just stand by and let the boss die alone!"

"Who said anything about going out there to die?"

Sim Geum-a grumbled at the two of them. Choi Eun-ji and Dima answered in perfect unison, grinning: "Exactly — so let's go together!"

"Tch. Do whatever you want…"

She clicked her tongue, but a faint smile had settled on her face — lighter, freer than before.

She turned to the combat volunteers gathered around her and raised her voice.

"Listen up! In a moment, we open that gate and go out!

Shield-bearers charge first — form a shield wall and throw up temporary cover!"

She pointed at the people holding crude shields: car doors reinforced with steel plate, or several sheets of metal bolted together.

"Everyone else follows right behind them. From behind that cover, you shoot, you throw grenades, and you hold for three minutes! Exactly three minutes — then you come back inside! Understood?!"

She drove the final point home.

"Don't get too enthusiastic about the attack. Just pull their eyes. If you make it back alive, that's a win!"

No one argued. They only nodded, faces set hard. Sim Geum-a allowed herself a small smile.

"Thanks. I won't tell you not to die… just come back a little less dead than you have to."

Then she looked at the person waiting to open the gate and gave a single nod.

"The gate! The eastern gate just opened!"

Less than a minute after Sim Geum-a's group poured out, the crack of gunfire and the roar of shouting carried the news through the ranks of raiders surrounding the walls: the gate was open.

Moments later the raiders surged like a pack of hyenas that had just spotted prey, sprinting madly toward the open gate, each man desperate to be first.

And in the chaos of that stampede, something enormous uncoiled atop the highest stretch of the western wall and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dropped.

A heavy thud rolled out. The few raiders still lingering spun toward the sound — and cried out in pure horror.

"Th-that's him! The steel giant from this afternoon!"

Terror took them. They opened fire on the giant at once.

But with most of their force already flooding toward the main gate, the gunfire was far thinner than it had been by day. The steel giant punched straight through the sparse rain of bullets and tore away into the dark, vanishing from the place.

"Don't let him get away! Take that bastard down!"

A ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠man who looked like a group leader bellowed the order, but the distance had already grown too great. All they could do was stare blankly at the giant's disappearing back.

"…Yeong-ju unni is running a little late tonight."

Yang Jin-ju spoke from her seat in the support room, where I had been staring at the monitors in mounting anxiety.

"Yeah. This is the first time she hasn't come back even after dinner."

Yang Jin-ju nodded, worry plain on her face.

"Jin-ju's worried too. She's been up in the room with the manual defense system for a while now, watching for the two of them."

"Right…"

"…Let's not panic. They're wearing the suits. They'll be fine."

I repeated it to myself over and over.

That was when Nam Jin-ju's urgent voice burst through the support-room speakers.

"(Oppa! Po-gyeong unni is coming! But… but it looks like she's alone!)"

For the first time, my heart dropped with a cold, heavy thud of dread.

I sprinted for the Shelter entrance and threw the door open.

In the distance, a figure in a Foundation Suit came stumbling toward us at a desperate run, clutching something tight against her chest.

The moment Kang Po-gyeong crossed the threshold, she lifted the cloth-wrapped burden in her arms and cried out:

"Seo Yeong-ju-nim — to the medical bay, immediately…! She needs treatment!"

Wrapped in that cloth was Seo Yeong-ju, face deathly pale, unconscious, limp as a rag doll.

I rushed her onto the treatment table in the medical bay. A white medical unit descended from the ceiling and began scanning her body.

I didn't understand half the terms, but just hearing them drove home how critical her condition was.

And as if to confirm every fear, the same thick injection hose that had treated Kang Po-gyeong's arm plunged into Yeong-ju's body without hesitation.

Once I was sure treatment had begun, I turned to Kang Po-gyeong, who was still on her knees beside me with her forehead pressed to the floor.

"Drop that. Just talk."

Even I was startled by how cold and sharp my own voice came out.

"…Who did this?"

"Oppa…"

Yang Jin-ju had left the cracked, deeply gouged Foundation Suit Kang Po-gyeong had worn in the support room; she called my name, but I didn't answer. My eyes never left Kang Po-gyeong.

"…It is my fault."

And then Kang Po-gyeong began to recount, one by one, the horrors of the past few hours.

"We were… engaging the raiders in front of Sim Geum-a-nim's sector, as planned.

At first it went smoothly. But… their firepower was far heavier than we had anticipated.

And then… something I know the military uses — a Hyungung anti-tank missile — came flying at us."

Her voice was shaking.

"Seo Yeong-ju-nim tried to dodge in that instant… but if I am correct, it has a guidance system. She failed to evade… and took the full force of the blast with her body…"

She couldn't finish. She broke into sobs.

"When we finally managed to fall back behind the wall… Sim Geum-a-nim bought us time.

If she and her people had not risked their lives to draw the enemy's attention… we would never have made it back here."

She kept talking through her tears.

"I am sorry… I am truly, truly sorry…"

Kang Po-gyeong's voice, still blaming herself over and over, seemed to come from farther and farther away.

I looked away from her and fixed my eyes on Yeong-ju lying pale on the treatment table.

I felt no grief. No rage. Instead, a bone-deep, vicious regret crashed over me like a tidal wave.

Why…

Why had I given in so easily to what they said back then? Why had I accepted that complacent line — Your place is not the front line — and sent them into hell in my place?

I spoke to Nam Jin-ju, who was trying to comfort the weeping Kang Po-gyeong.

"Jin-ju. Take Kang Po-gyeong somewhere. Get her cleaned up. Once she's calmer, make her eat something."

Nam Jin-ju understood what I meant by "take her out." She gave me a small nod.

Then she all but dragged Kang Po-gyeong away — the woman still trying to stay at Yeong-ju's side.

Only Yang Jin-ju and I remained ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in the treatment room.

I asked her,

"…The Foundation Suit. How long left on repairs and recharging?"

Yang Jin-ju stared at me in shock. I thought back to the stupid idea I'd had only a few days ago.

My place is no longer the front line?

Because of that idiotic thought, Yeong-ju was lying there like this.

I would not hesitate again. No matter what anyone said.

Looking back, I had been fighting nonstop since the zombie outbreak began. Sitting it out in the rear had never made any sense.

I made my decision.

From this moment on, I fight on the front line again.

"…About three hours and twenty minutes left, I think."

Yang Jin-ju's answer was very careful — as if she had already guessed I meant to put the suit on and go out.

"Right…"

I gave a short reply and headed for the resource processing room. She hurried after me.

"…You're going out? It's dangerous! You saw what happened to Yeong-ju unni and Po-gyeong unni!"

"Oppa! Please, you can't—"

I turned and took hold of both her shoulders.

I looked at her steadily and said,

"Jin-ju. Do you remember the day you came back shot while wearing the suit?"

Yang Jin-ju nodded without a word. I went on.

"That night Yeong-ju went out alone and wiped every last one of those bastards out, didn't she?"

"……"

"Before we ever reached the Shelter, that was how we lived.

Out there, it was just the natural order of things.

Anyone who touched me or the people who were mine — they were bastards who had to die. That was how we survived."

Jin-ju could no longer meet my eyes. Whether it was the words themselves or whatever expression had taken over my face without my knowing, she turned her head aside.

"So, Jin-ju.

Those bastards outside dared to touch my people. My woman. Which means…"

I tightened my grip on her shoulders.

"Those bastards are nothing more than bastards who now have to die. Every last one of them."

I walked past Jin-ju, who could no longer speak, and entered the resource processing room.

Then I poured every remaining scrap of metal we possessed into the fabrication of a single object.

If unexpected, overwhelming firepower was their weapon —

then all I had to do was prepare something that matched it.