When Does the World End?
"Haa... damn it." Junho let out a dry, hollow laugh. He could see the end. No, it had already arrived. It had been a long, grueling struggle to hold on this long.
His surname was Lee, the most common in the world, and his given name, Junho, was one of the most common for men in Korea. At 174 centimeters tall and 74 kilograms, he was the very definition of an "average Korean adult male." He was a man of no particular distinction, yet he had somehow survived for three whole years in a ruined world. It was a miracle—a record he could be proud of, if only there were someone left to hear it.
Grrr, graaaah...!
The guttural cries of the monsters echoed through the air. Zombies, NOBI, man-eating freaks—it didn't matter what you called them. Listening to the sounds emitted by those wretched things that were once human, Junho slumped against a collapsed brick wall and gasped for air.
"Hoo... ha..."
Junho looked down at his hands. Beneath his tattered leather gloves, the back of his hand was a mess of teeth marks and torn flesh, glistening in the dark, congealed blood. It was truly over now. Thirty seconds? Maybe a minute at most. In that time, he would lose his mind just like them, rotting away into a corpse-like monster.
"Kuh... cough!"
As a fit of coughing seized him, Junho ripped off his suffocating mask. He wasn't a smoker, but for some reason, he craved a cigarette more than anything. Suddenly, a sharp, piercing headache struck, his vision blurring and swaying.
'...It's here.'
The virus, which only activated in humans and primates, was beginning to run rampant through his system. He could feel his heart hammering against his ribs, and despite it being spring, his body felt as hot as if he were standing on asphalt in the middle of summer.
Ten seconds left? Junho’s vision began to fade into darkness. Graaaah! The monsters' cries grew closer. Soon, one of them emerged from the other side of the alley. It still bore traces of its former humanity. A tattered suit hung over a dark, graying face, and its eyes were clouded with cataracts. But since the skin wasn't necrotic despite the creature's emaciated state, it seemed to be either a recent infection or one of the Alpha-rank early-stage infected.
The moment the monster saw Junho, it tore its lips apart in a crazed grin. Kee-hee! Hee-hee-hee! The fact that it could express emotion meant it was the latter.
Junho let out a wry laugh and opened his mouth as wide as he could. Then, with every ounce of strength he had left, he screamed.
"WRAAAAAAAAGH!!!"
The man-eater and the man roared at the same time, but the meanings were worlds apart. Having proven one last time that he was a living human, Junho gripped his pistol upside down and shoved the barrel into his mouth.
He had brought his thumb to the trigger of the Glock 17, a gift from a half-Korean Russian mobster he’d met by chance and cared for for a few days. When Junho had asked if a Russian mobster shouldn't be carrying a Tokarev, the man had replied that his Tokarev was reserved for traitors and gave him this more expensive piece instead. Thinking that saving that man had been a good deed, and feeling truly fortunate that he could die as a human, Junho pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The moment he felt the searing heat in his mouth, all sensation vanished.
"Ah..."
With a groan, Junho opened his eyes. Feeling heat around his eyes, he instinctively raised a hand to wipe them. Damp tears stained his skin. After wiping the tears that had trickled down to his temples, Junho looked around in a daze.
It was a room. Specifically, it was his room in the old apartment where he had lived with his family for over ten years before the world fell apart. Junho looked around the space, which felt both foreign and hauntingly familiar.
"Is this... a dream?"
He couldn't tell if this was a dream, or if the horrific reality of being infected and pulling the trigger of that Glock 17 had been the dream. His vision, blurred by tears, cleared, and as he stared blankly around the room, his gaze settled on the phone resting beside his pillow.
November 21, Sunday, 23:12.
Still floundering on the boundary between reality and nightmare, Junho picked up the phone and unlocked it. Then, as if possessed, he typed the word "Date" into the search bar.
Sunday, November 21, 2021.
"2...021?"
Junho muttered blankly before springing up from his bed like a coiled spring. He searched for the date on a portal site again, and unable to believe even that, he navigated to a community bulletin board he used to frequent and clicked on the top post.
Date Posted: 2021-11-21 23:11
"Crazy..."
As Junho let out a trembling voice, the memories of the long time he had endured flashed through his mind like a panorama. Was it all just a dream? That couldn't be. Dreams were usually faint. Only the final scene would remain blurry, and the rest would be hard to recall. But the memories surfacing now were far too vivid. He remembered what he had done on the morning the world ended, how he had survived since then, who he had met, and who he had lost. It was all as clear as a movie he had just watched.
"Huh?"
Suddenly, his own hand entered his field of vision. A reddish scar remained between his thumb and palm.
"...A bite mark?"
It was the spot where he had been bitten by the infected through his old leather gloves in his final moments. He swore that scar hadn't been there before.
"Ha, this is driving me crazy."
His heart began to pound. Junho gasped and rubbed his face with his hands. He had definitely died. In the spring of 2027, three years after the world collapsed. But now, he had woken up in November 2021, six years in the past.
Even amidst the extreme confusion, Junho stood up. Everything still felt like a dream, but what he had to do was clear.
"Ugh."
The moment he stood up from the bed, a sudden wave of dizziness made him stagger. His body was different from before. Regaining his composure, Junho slowly opened his bedroom door and walked into the familiar kitchen.
Whirrr.
He even missed the low, soft hum of the refrigerator. As he opened the fridge door, a bright light spilled out. The brilliance of it made Junho feel dizzy. This wasn't just light; to Junho, it was civilization itself—the very symbol of modern human society. He grabbed a half-empty bottle of water, twisted the cap off, and drank greedily. He didn't care that water was running down his chin; he gulped it down. His throat moved rhythmically, and the water that had been left in the bottle vanished in an instant.
"Kuh!"
Eyes half-closed, Junho savored the lingering relief of his thirst being quenched and muttered to himself.
"It's not a dream..."
Junho was certain now: neither the things he had endured nor this current situation were dreams.
"Hyung? What are you doing there?"
"......!?"
Startled by the voice, Junho reflexively turned his head.
"You're not sleeping? What, did you come out for water?"
A man slightly taller than him, with solid muscles visible even through his training clothes, approached while yawning.
"Jun... hyuk?"
"Why? Still half-asleep? Jeez, why are you spilling water everywhere?"
Junho stared blankly as Junhyuk, his only younger brother and the only blood relative he had left in the world, rolled up some tissues to wipe the floor.
"Whoa, what? Why are you looking at me like that?"
Grumbling as he wiped the water, Junhyuk flinched and stepped back. It was strange to see his older brother looking at him with such affection, his eyes brimming with tears. "Why, why? Are you crying, Hyung? What's wrong?"
As Junhyuk frowned as if he'd seen something he shouldn't have, Junho suddenly burst into a soft laugh.
"No, it's nothing. You brat..."
Junho reached out and ruffled his younger brother's hair, which was taller than his own.
"Ah, damn. Why are you doing that all of a sudden? Seriously."
Junho watched Junhyuk, who was grumbling while fixing his hair, with eyes filled with a complex mix of emotions. Just as Junhyuk, sensing that something was off, was about to speak, Junho spoke first.
"Sit down for a second. I have something to tell you."
"......?"
At his brother's sudden strange behavior in the middle of the night and his serious expression, Junhyuk frowned but sat down on the sofa obediently. Junho, six years his senior, was the only family he had left. Even if it was weird, he had to listen.
"......"
Junhyuk stared at Junho with a blank expression, his mouth half-open. Had he suddenly gone crazy? Or was he still half-asleep? Of course, he didn't say it out loud. Even if he was curious and confused, his brother had given him a command-like request to listen quietly until he was finished.
"I'm not crazy, Hyung, so you don't have to look at me like that."
"Uh..."
As Junhyuk awkwardly smacked his lips, feeling stung, Junho let out a small sigh and stood up.
"Wait here for a second."
"Okay."
Leaving his brother, who seemed to have a lot to say but was holding it in, Junho headed toward the kitchen.
"......"
Junhyuk frowned even deeper as he watched his brother, who had been spouting nonsense for over five minutes, open and close the sink cabinet as if searching for something. But soon, Junhyuk's eyes widened, and he jumped up from the sofa.
"Hyung? W-what are you doing?"
Seeing the palm-length fruit knife in Junho's hand, Junhyuk moved slowly, trying to calm him down. "Hyung, just put that down. Let's put it down and talk, okay?"
"You crazy bastard, it's not like that."
Junho spat out the words, strode toward the TV, and placed the apple he was holding in his other hand onto the display cabinet.
"......?"
Leaving the bewildered Junhyuk behind, Junho gripped the fruit knife lightly in his right hand and flicked his wrist, swinging it through the air a few times. Junhyuk's eyes widened as he watched.
"Hyung, don't tell me..."
"Just wait a second. I need to get a feel for it."
Because his knife, his physical condition, and his "precognitive dream"—no, his future—were different, Junho carefully took a stance and swung his right hand a few more times. Then, after a moment, Junho caught his breath and settled into a quiet posture. Suddenly, his arm snapped forward.
Thwack!
The fruit knife flew nimbly through the air, piercing the center of the apple on the display cabinet. Unable to withstand the impact, the apple fell, still impaled by the knife, and hit the wall.
"......!!!"
Junhyuk's jaw dropped. With an expression of disbelief, he rushed over and picked up the apple. "Whoa, damn. Is this for real? This is insane."
To Junhyuk, who kept repeating that it was insane while looking back and forth between the apple and himself, Junho said, "I learned it to survive."
"In that apocalypse dream?"
"It wasn't a dream... ha, forget it."
"But Hyung, didn't you throw bayonets around for fun when you were in the army? Didn't you learn it there?"
It was a reasonable point, but Junho frowned. "It's been over five years since I was discharged. Do you think my body still remembers something I did a few times for fun? And are a military bayonet and a fruit knife the same thing?"
"That's true. But wow, this is seriously insane."
Junhyuk pulled out the knife and examined it with fascination. Junho had been in the Army Reconnaissance Unit, but Junhyuk had been in the Special Forces—even if he was just an enlisted soldier, it was the toughest unit a regular conscript could go to. Even for Junhyuk, piercing an apple with a fruit knife in one go was difficult without practice. If that were the case, there was a possibility that the "future precognitive dream" his brother spoke of was true. But a normal person couldn't just believe such things, no matter who said them.
"But still, it's so out of the blue, isn't it? It's not like a movie or a drama. It doesn't make sense."
"......"
Junho didn't answer. Instead, he held the remote control. The TV screen turned on, and the channels changed rapidly.
"Hyung?"
Junhyuk stared at his brother with wide, suspicious eyes. He couldn't fathom what strange thing he was about to do next. A moment later, the screen stopped on a sports channel.
"Galatasaray is going to score first in the first half."
"Huh? Uh, sure."
His brother Junho was a soccer fan. He usually watched all the matches featuring Korean players in European leagues. But now, he woke up from a nap, said strange things, performed a stunt piercing an apple with a knife, and now he was watching soccer?
"Hyung..."
Just as Junhyuk, genuinely worried, was about to say something, Junho spoke calmly.
"In the second half, one player from Fenerbahçe will be sent off."
"What...?"
"In this match, Kim In-jae will block two goal-scoring situations. In the second half, he'll intercept the ball, dribble to the center line, and provide a decisive chance for the striker. Even with a player sent off from Fenerbahçe in the second half, Fenerbahçe will eventually win 2-1."
He remembered it clearly because he had watched it live and it was a legendary match that had kept highlight clips and GIFs of Kim In-jae's performance circulating in soccer communities for a long time.
"Whoa..."
To Junhyuk, who still couldn't believe it, Junho said firmly, "Just watch. Watch and then we'll talk."
"...Alright."
Junhyuk nodded as if he had no choice. The brothers didn't say another word after that, focusing only on the TV screen. And two hours later, Junhyuk looked at his brother with a completely frozen face and said:
"When does the world end?"