A Fortnight to Forge a Rifle
South Korea’s legal hunting season runs from November through the end of February. During this window, anyone holding a Type 1 hunting license and a firearm possession permit is legally allowed to hunt using shotguns or air rifles. Originally, Jun-ho had planned to retrieve their air rifles the moment November arrived. However, there were simply too many other tasks to prioritize, and since other hunters are most active from November through December—when the weather is relatively mild—he decided to delay the withdrawal of the firearms.
And so, in mid-January 2023, as the cold reached its peak, Jun-ho headed to the police station at sunrise to finally and officially withdraw the air rifles he had placed in custody. To emphasize their dedication to the "hunt," Jun-ho and Jun-hyeok dressed in full winter gear, looking every bit the part of serious hunters as they passed through the civil service office and headed toward the underground gun storage room.
Lucky. Jun-ho felt a surge of relief when he saw the officer in charge of weaponry. It was the same man with the sullen expression he had dealt with the previous spring when he’d first purchased and deposited the air rifles.
"Do you have your permits?"
"Yes, right here."
Jun-ho handed over their hunting licenses, firearm possession permits, and the documents authorizing the use of firearms during the hunting season.
"Wait a moment."
Just as he had when they first deposited the rifles, the officer gave the documents a cursory, indifferent glance before opening the door to the storage room. A few moments later, he returned carrying three hard cases.
"Here you go. Check to make sure everything is correct..." The officer set the cases down one by one, continuing in his same bored, grumpy tone. "Once you’ve confirmed everything, sign the withdrawal log. List the purpose of removal as 'hunting activity,' and make sure to return them once the season ends."
Though he was reciting the manual, the officer’s attitude was one of utter annoyance. Jun-ho felt a strange sense of comfort in that apathy.
"Understood."
"As you know, you must store the ammunition separately during transport and keep the firearms disassembled. Do not take them out or load them until you reach the designated hunting zone."
"Of course. Thank you for your trouble."
"Yeah, yeah."
Leaving the dismissive officer behind, Jun-ho and Jun-hyeok—who had been standing stiffly with nerves—carried the hard cases out of the station.
"Whoa... I was so nervous, I don't even know why."
"Everyone’s like that the first time. Anyway, let’s get moving."
"Right."
The brothers loaded the air rifles into the backseat and drove toward a mountain in Namyangju, carefully avoiding the restricted hunting zones they had researched in advance. It was a place with no buildings or homes, and on a day as cold as this, it was completely deserted.
"Oh, there he is."
Jun-hyeok, sitting in the passenger seat, pointed, and Jun-ho steered the car toward the spot. An ordinary-looking van was already parked there.
Screech.
As their Bionic 5 came to a stop at the entrance of the mountain trail, a man stepped out of the van’s driver-side door. It was Baek Ha-il.
"You're here?"
"Yes, sir."
"Hello, Teacher!"
Jun-hyeok greeted him cheerfully, and Baek Ha-il approached with a bright smile.
"Jun-hyeok, it’s been a while. You doing well?"
"Yes! Have you been doing well too, sir?"
"I’m always doing well. But I told you, just call me 'Mister.' What’s with the 'Teacher' business?"
"Oh, no way. You’re doing such incredibly important work for our shelter—I can’t be that disrespectful."
"Is that so? Well, call me whatever makes you comfortable then. Come on, let’s get this moved. It’s freezing out here."
Shivering in the biting wind of the mid-January mountain, Baek Ha-il opened the back of the van. The brothers carried the hard cases over.
"Whoa...!"
Unlike Jun-ho, who had seen the van a few days prior, Jun-hyeok’s jaw dropped at the sight. The interior was packed with an array of tools and equipment.
"Pretty cool, right? Spent over 80 million won on this, not counting the car itself. That right there is a high-speed 3D scanner—that alone was 20 million. And that thing is an XRF spectrometer; it’s a used model, but it still cost over 10 million."
Digital measuring tools like vernier calipers, micrometers, and 3-axis gauges, along with precision tool sets, were attached to magnetic trays lining the sides of the van, centered around a fixed workbench. There were even two 5-kilowatt power tanks to run the electronics, plus cooling fans and an HVAC system. It was a vehicle built with extreme care, intended not just for today, but to be a vital asset after the apocalypse began.
"Alright, let’s look at the domestic one first."
"Yes, sir. Here it is."
As Jun-hyeok carefully pulled the air rifle from the case, Baek Ha-il turned up the brightness of the LED lights and began his inspection. Jun-hyeok hesitated, then asked, "By the way, sir... do you know your way around guns, too?"
"Of course I do."
Baek Ha-il chuckled, removing the trigger guard with practiced ease. "The owner of the factory I used to work at was obsessed with pheasant hunting every winter. I tagged along and ended up handling plenty of shotguns and air rifles. That cheapskate even made me handle the maintenance and modifications because he didn't want to pay a professional. I had all the basic tools at the factory, anyway."
That was exactly why he had been treated with a degree of respect as a technician for the cult. He could fix anything from cars to electronics, and his knowledge and understanding of air rifles were profound. He had even built simple modified air rifles before, though the performance was limited by a lack of materials and a restrictive environment. They could only fire about ten rounds before needing a refill. Still, they were more than enough to take down zombies or humans within 50 meters, so the rifles Baek Ha-il produced were used by the cult leader’s personal security detail.
"Ah..."
Baek Ha-il used a torque wrench to loosen the frame bolts, and the metal components clicked as they came free.
"Well, it’s a domestic model, so the structure is almost identical to the ones my old boss used. See this? It’s a receiver-and-cylinder integrated structure. The efficiency is a bit low, but it’s easy and convenient to maintain."
After that, Baek Ha-il busied himself measuring the cylinder bore with calipers and testing some of the metal parts with the XRF analyzer. The brothers had nothing to do but watch.
After about ten minutes of working alone, Baek Ha-il spoke to them.
"We can easily replicate this with our workshop’s CNC machine. The gas route is simple, and the output stabilization is decent. With a few tweaks, I can reliably push this up to 100 joules."
"100 joules? What does that mean?"
As Jun-hyeok tilted his head, Jun-ho stepped in.
"It’s a unit of energy. You know the pistols in movies and dramas? A 9mm handgun is usually around 500 joules. Keep working, sir."
"You got it."
Baek Ha-il pulled the remaining domestic air rifle and the high-end British model from the cases and began disassembling them.
"Wait, if it's 100 joules, isn't that weak?"
"It’s different when it’s an air rifle. These are currently at about 50 joules. Because of our country’s firearm laws, they can’t exceed 60. The caliber and pellet weight are also restricted. But even in this state, they’re one-shot kills for birds or squirrels within 50 meters. It’s dangerous for people, too."
"Oh..."
"But we’re going to replicate and modify these to boost the power to 100 joules. And instead of these lead pellets, we’ll use special tungsten rounds. Then, within 100 meters, it’ll be a one-shot kill for zombies or humans if you hit them in the head."
"......!"
Jun-hyeok’s eyes widened. It was the first time he had heard his brother, Jun-ho, talk about "killing" someone. At the same time, the reality of what they were preparing for hit him with renewed force.
"You see a lot of rifles and shotguns in zombie movies and dramas, right?" Jun-ho’s voice was chillingly calm.
"In a real apocalypse, if you fire those carelessly, you’ll be surrounded by a horde of zombies in less than three minutes. Gunshots in a city or residential area can be heard for hundreds of meters. If you fired a gun at our house in Bucheon? Every zombie in the apartment complex across the street would come running."
"Seriously? That’s insane..."
The neighborhood where their Bucheon house was located was separated from the apartment complex by an eight-lane road, roughly 300 to 400 meters away. Jun-hyeok was shocked to learn that even those monsters would hear the sound and swarm them.
"That’s why using standard firearms is dangerous. Why do you think people in the U.S.—where handguns and rifles are everywhere—stopped firing them recklessly later on? Because ammo was limited, and the moment you fired, thousands of them would come running."
"Ah..."
"And those are monsters that don't fear being shot and won't die or fall even if they take a few hits to the body. What do you think would happen in a densely populated country like ours?"
"......"
Seeing his brother’s face turn pale, Jun-ho said firmly, "That’s why, for now, it has to be air rifles. Even if we get real guns later, using silencers and subsonic rounds will be the standard. And when we do use them, we have to use drones to thoroughly identify their locations and numbers first, then use a 'peel-and-enter' method from the outside."
It sounded efficient and simple, but the police and military had been wiped out precisely because they didn't know these simple truths. Furthermore, in the early stages, when the outbreak erupted simultaneously across cities and residential areas, such methods were impossible to use. That was why Jun-ho planned to spend at least the first month after the apocalypse in the shelter, only venturing out to secretly scout the nearby mountains. He had no intention of going near Gahyeon-ri or the surrounding villages.
"Just about finished."
At Baek Ha-il’s voice, the brothers turned around.
"The British one is high-end, so the structure is a bit complex, but I can make something similar. Chrome-moly steel and stainless steel are easy to get in Korea..."
He explained that materials for aluminum alloys, tool steel, and polymer parts could all be acquired legally. He also noted that the compressed air tanks needed for the rifles could be fabricated by modifying industrial or paintball tanks.
"If we count the time for drafting the blueprints and CAD modeling for the prototypes, it’ll take about a week. I can source the metal and other materials myself. What do you think? Should we start tomorrow? Give or take a fortnight, I can forge you a rifle."
Jun-ho shook his head.
"No. We need to finish the soundproofing for the shooting range first."
"Let’s do that, then. Heh heh. You two are going to have a rough time starting tomorrow, aren't you?"
"We have to do it, though."
As Jun-ho shrugged, Jun-hyeok asked cautiously, "I know we have to do it, just like you said, brother. But how long will it take, Teacher?"
"If we work five or six hours a day, it’ll take about two months."
"Ah..."
"The three of us have to do the soundproofing, the acoustic treatment, and the ventilation system. Hyeok, you ever done any manual labor?"
"No..."
"I’ll teach you well. Both you and Ho-ya are in good shape, so you’ll be doing the work of two or three laborers in no time."
"Understood... I’ll work hard..."
"You’re a man, why are you acting so limp already? You gotta know how to do a little labor to be a real man."
Watching Baek Ha-il laugh while thumping Jun-hyeok’s slumped back, Jun-ho organized his thoughts.
Two months from now...
If they finished in March, it would align perfectly with the "overseas schedule" he had already booked. In early April, Jun-ho and Jun-hyeok were scheduled to head to a private military academy in the U.S. for an intensive short-term training program, where they would finally learn to handle real firearms. And so, the time of grueling manual labor passed by in a blur.