The Time of Slaughter (3)
"Kuh...!" Jeon Yo-han couldn't regain his senses. Even with his eyes closed, the afterimages lingered, painting his vision in blinding white. His ears rang with a heavy, dull roar that made it impossible to distinguish any sound, and his sense of balance had vanished entirely, as if the floor were undulating beneath him.
"Fucking hell..." Even in that state, Jeon Yo-han gritted his teeth and tried to push himself up, but his body immediately tilted to one side. His shoulder slammed into a hard structure—whether it was a wall or a display cabinet, he couldn't tell—and as he flailed to regain his balance, he collided with someone else and collapsed again.
"Huu, hu, hu..." He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them repeatedly, gasping for air, until outlines finally began to blur into view. He pressed his palms against the floor with all his might and stood up.
"Huu, hu, hu..." Jeon Yo-han swept his gun muzzle back and forth, trying to scan his surroundings. But his balance hadn't returned, making it difficult to judge direction. His vision was still dizzy, and the splotchy afterimages of light made it impossible to tell what was what. A moment later, the ringing in his ears subsided enough that, though still muffled, he could hear external noises. Even with his focus wavering and afterimages still present, he had enough vision to survey the living room.
"Huk...!?" The LED lights were all off, but the bright moonlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows revealed the scene in the living room perfectly. While the old folks were crawling on the floor, the two subordinates who, until just a moment ago, had been perfectly fine, aiming their guns toward the hallway from behind the sofa and the overturned table, were gone. No, they were there. It was just that they existed in multiple pieces.
Jeon Yo-han’s body froze like a statue as he stared at the corpses of his two subordinates, their heads and torsos separated from their bodies in a pool of blood.
And at that moment.
"Jeon Yo-han, Vice Chairman of Daeseonghoe, right?"
At the low, cold voice from behind him, Jeon Yo-han felt a chill run down his spine, as if his blood were freezing. He flinched. Along with a stinging sensation at his throat, that chilling, bass-heavy voice burrowed into his ear.
"Playing around with zombies, doing some pathetic shit? Where’s that bastard who calls himself the CEO of Selenix?"
"......!"
Jeon Yo-han was horrified by the stranger’s words, which seemed to imply he knew everything. But having lived the life of a gangster for so long, he knew exactly how to act in such situations. He slowly twisted his wrist to slide his pistol’s muzzle toward the back, saying in the calmest voice he could muster, "I don't know who you are, but even now..."
Snap.
"Argh!"
Jeon Yo-han dropped his pistol under the immense, crushing grip on his wrist. At the same time, the blade dug deeper into his throat, and the voice, now even lower and more submerged, spoke.
"You seem to be under a misunderstanding. You’re going to die. The only difference is how you die, depending on how you answer right now. Will you go out cleanly like your subordinates? Or will you be thrown as zombie feed?"
"......!!!"
"Finding where that bastard Yoo Young-jae is isn't hard. It’s not like you’re the only one who knows where that prick is. I’m just doing this because it’s a hassle and I don't want to waste time. So."
Snap!
"Kuhk!"
Jun-ho grabbed Jeon Yo-han by the hair and violently twisted his body to face him. "If you want to live even a few more hours, talk, you gangster piece of shit."
***
Pang...! Pang...!
"Gotcha."
Park Deok-cheol, who had finally shot down the drone sent by the gangsters with just two shots, checked the tablet screen linked to his remote. The tablet, embedded with a program created by Yun Yeong-su, pinpointed the shelter's drones the moment they detected another drone. Moreover, thanks to the laser sight mounted on his rifle, aiming at night wasn't that difficult, and it was easy to hit since the stupid gangsters had left their drones hovering in the air. In contrast, the shelter's drone, being a high-end, high-performance model, was watching the entire battlefield from a much higher altitude than the gangsters' toys. Furthermore, all the parts where light leaked out had been sealed with tape, so there was no risk of being discovered by the gangsters.
Tat-tang...! Tat-tat-tang...! Tang...!
Even amidst that, intermittent gunfire could be heard from below. Perhaps because it was a large apartment complex, the gunfire felt somehow louder.
"They're swarming! Over 100 of them! All armed with firearms!"
At that moment, the drone operator for Major Lee Seok-jin’s unit raised his voice, and Lieutenant Jeong and about 20 soldiers aimed their muzzles toward the apartment below. Most of the 'Golden Heights' apartments didn't have a single light on, but more than half of the streetlights within the complex were still on.
Click! Click!
Armed with K2C1 rifles and K15 light machine guns, the soldiers disengaged their safeties and finished preparing to fire.
"Platoon leader! Should we prepare grenades, too?" one soldier asked. The height of the apartment rooftop where they were currently stationed was roughly 60 meters. If they threw them down hard, they would hit the ground and explode within the fuse delay time. But Lieutenant Jeong shook his head.
"No. We don't know if zombies will swarm because of the gunfire as it is, and if grenades go off here, they'll 100 percent come."
There were villages around 'Golden Heights,' but the population was only about 600, and they had already been cleared out. The nearest apartment complex was across the highway, about 800 meters away. Gunfire might be heard, but not enough to stimulate the zombies. Especially if they were indoors, it would be even less likely.
Recalling Jun-ho’s words, Lieutenant Jeong continued, "They say a 10-decibel difference feels like almost double the sound. If grenades go off on top of this, it’ll be absolute chaos, so don't you dare throw them."
"Yes! Understood!"
The active-duty soldiers, who knew well that the sound of a grenade exploding was on a completely different level from what appeared in movies or dramas, immediately agreed.
"They're almost here! About 200 meters from the back gate!"
As the drone operator raised his voice again, Lieutenant Jeong and the soldiers stared through their optical sights, their fingers resting on the triggers. They were extremely tense because this was their first time having to shoot at 'humans' rather than zombies. But because their comrades below were fighting, overcoming this tension and fear.
"Open fire!"
They were able to pull the triggers, targeting the vicious gangsters who couldn't even be seen as human beings.
Kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa-kwang...!!!
Dozens of 5.56mm rounds tore through the darkness and poured down onto the heads of the bastards.
Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tang...! Tat-tat-tat-tang...!
At the same time, the troops positioned at the back gate also opened fire in unison, as if they had been waiting. They knew the back gate had already been breached and that the soldiers positioned nearby were killing any of the gangsters trying to approach that area on sight. But because all their drones had been shot down, the gangsters, who had absolutely no idea how many people were positioned where, were literally wiped out.
There was no need to fire many shots.
"Cease fire! Cease fire!"
The rifles had only fired one magazine, and the light machine guns only about 30 rounds each, but among the gangsters who had been swarming like an ant colony in groups of dozens, not a single one was left standing on two feet.
"Machine gunners! Snipers, stand by! Everyone else, move out!"
At Lieutenant Jeong’s command, filled with excitement, the equally excited soldiers followed him in a rush. Even though the wind was blowing fiercely, Park Deok-cheol trembled, still smelling the thick scent of gunpowder. He felt like he understood why Jun-ho had been so reluctant to encounter military units. He had shot guns often since he was young in the U.S. thanks to his grandfather, but the military’s coordinated fire was truly on a different level, far beyond his imagination.
"Snap out of it. Get a grip, Ducky."
Feeling his ears go numb even though he was wearing a headset, Park Deok-cheol hurriedly checked the tablet screen. The camera of the drone hovering in the sky near the front gate of 'Golden Heights' was pointed toward the Misa Bridge and the highway. The coordinated fire from just a moment ago might draw zombies from the other apartment complex across the highway. And not just a few—an overwhelming number, with a different first digit and an extra '0' at the end compared to the number of gangsters they had just killed.
"Don’t come here. Please, don't come."
Moving the drone camera direction here and there, Park Deok-cheol muttered under his breath.
***
Beep, beep, beep, beep... Click!
When Jeon Yo-han pressed the password with trembling hands and placed his thumb on the scanner, the door to the cultural center opened. Without a blade or a gun muzzle pressed against his body, he felt a maddening fear from the killing intent emanating from behind him, and he stepped inside.
'What the hell is this guy, really? He's definitely not a regular soldier... Is he some kind of special forces?'
Although he had been discharged a long time ago, he knew at least that the combat uniform Jun-ho was wearing wasn't standard ROK Army issue. Moreover, the rifle slung over his back wasn't a K2 variant, and the pistols attached to his chest all had silencers on them. And a soldier slicing people up like that with a machete instead of a military combat knife?
'Fucking hell... I'm really screwed.'
Jeon Yo-han sensed that it would be difficult for him to survive. But because he still had his life, he had to do whatever the mysterious 'monster' walking behind him ordered. Jeon Yo-han, who had gone up to the second floor of the cultural center, suppressed the urge to look back and said, "H-here. This is Yoo Young-jae’s lab."
"Open it."
At the bass-heavy voice, still devoid of any emotion, Jeon Yo-han swallowed hard, pressed the password again, and placed his thumb on the scanner repeatedly. Before long, the door to the B-building management office of the cultural center opened.
"......!?"
Jun-ho could see a man standing in the middle of the room, looking at him. A man in his 40s, presumed to be Yoo Young-jae, raised his hand toward them in a relaxed manner.
"Hi, Director Jeon. It’s been a week, hasn't it? Anyway, it’s chaotic outside..."
The man shifted his gaze to Jun-ho and continued, "Was it you guys? Which unit? Are you in contact with the government by any chance?"
"......"
"If you are in contact, could you tell them I’ve developed something incredible? This stuff is really killer. Ah, do you not have the authority to decide? Then bring your superior..."
Thwack!
"Gack!"
The man, who had been chatting away with a friendly smile and a relaxed attitude, collapsed as a throwing knife was embedded in his shoulder.
Thwack!
Jun-ho, who had kicked Jeon Yo-han to push him toward the man, walked toward the two of them with a throwing knife in each hand.
"Neither of you can read the room. Don't try to act tough or look like you've got something going on. Keep your mouths shut until I ask a question. If you want to die, keep yapping."
Whoosh!
The throwing knives, flying at a speed barely visible to the eye, embedded themselves into the backs and thighs of the two men, up to part of the handles.
"Kyaaaack!"
"Kuhek! Argh!"
The gangster underboss and the overnight-rich bio-enterprise founder let out ear-piercing screams, proving that everyone is equal in the face of overwhelming violence.
"Hey, you lunatic bastard."
"Urgh... Uh-huk?"
Yoo Young-jae, whose initial relaxed attitude was nowhere to be found, looked up at Jun-ho with tears in his eyes. "How many Alphas are here? And how many people have you fed them so far?"
"Huk, th-that is..."
Swish.
As Jun-ho pulled out his Commando Dagger instead of a throwing knife, fear filled Yoo Young-jae’s face. "Tw-twelve! There are twelve of them! Urgh, p-people, per... per one... about twenty to thirty people..."
"This bastard still hasn't come to his senses."
Seeing Yoo Young-jae rolling his eyes even in that situation, Jun-ho realized the bastard was lying and raised his Commando Dagger, when—
Thump...! Thump-thump...!
At the small sound from deep inside the office, Jun-ho snapped his head around. Yoo Young-jae naturally shifted his gaze in the direction Jun-ho was looking.
"Ah..."
His face turned pale in an instant.
Crunch.
"Kuk!"
"Argh!"
Jun-ho, who had made them writhe in even greater pain by twisting and violently pulling out the throwing knives embedded in Jeon Yo-han and Yoo Young-jae’s bodies, stomped on their ankles with his combat boots, pinning them down so they couldn't move. Then, he walked toward the inner office door where the sound had come from. The gray steel door, which didn't match such an office, was locked from the outside, not the inside, so he pulled out his Glock 17 and carefully turned the doorknob.
Click.
"...Ah! Ugh!"
At that, someone who had been knocking on the door let out a scream along with a frail voice and ran away inside. Then, the small things inside began to scream along with them.
"Kyaaang! S-save us!"
"Aang! Huaaang!"
Inside the dark room, with a single orange LED light dangling from the ceiling, about ten children, who looked like they weren't even ten years old yet, were huddled together, crying. The moment he saw those children, Jun-ho realized their 'purpose.'