Twelve Minutes?
Beep, beep, beep, beep. Click.
"Hyung, I'm home."
"Oh, hey. Come over here for a second."
"Sure. Let me wash my hands first."
Jun-hyeok washed his hands in the bathroom and came out to sit on the sofa. "What about school?"
"I looked into it. I haven't officially applied to return from my leave of absence anyway, so I can just not go."
"Good. And your part-time job?"
"I told the manager I'd only work until the end of this month. But Hyung."
"Yeah?"
Jun-hyeok watched Jun-ho's reaction, speaking cautiously. "So... I was thinking. Shouldn't we at least tell Hyun-woo? Even if it's just a hint so he can prepare a little... Ah, but if you say no, of course I won't."
"Hyun-woo?"
Jun-ho recalled Choi Hyun-woo, his brother's best friend. During their father's funeral last year, even though he was on military leave, Hyun-woo had stayed by their side until the burial. He was a reliable, giant of a guy whom Jun-ho was deeply grateful for. Every time they met, he would bow at a perfect ninety-degree angle and call him "Hyung-nim" like some kind of mobster, which was a bit overwhelming, but there was no denying he was loyal and dependable.
"Hyun-woo was in the Marines, right?"
"Yeah. He was a Marine, but he had a cushy post on Jeju Island."
"Is that so?"
Still, it must have been tougher than most regular army units. "Hyun-woo, huh..."
"Yeah..."
Seeing the mix of anticipation and guilt on Jun-hyeok's face, Jun-ho felt a bitter taste in his mouth. His brother didn't know the true face of the apocalypse. He couldn't even begin to fathom it. That was why he wanted to save his closest, most loyal friend from the impending doom. Some might call it naive, but Jun-ho didn't think his brother was in the wrong. Jun-ho had friends too, and he already planned to help at least one person before the end. He had a very clear reason for doing so.
After the apocalypse began, Jun-ho had rarely seen cases where people who resolved to survive entirely alone, or only with their immediate family, lasted long or kept their group functioning properly. Of course, there were those who survived long-term in absolute isolation. But nine times out of ten, those people were practically insane. A few weeks or months might be fine, but once it stretched into years, most minds shattered. When monsters that bite, tear, and devour humans roam outside, and their shrieks echo day and night, it would be stranger for a human mind to remain intact after enduring that hell for so long without proper sleep or food.
Ultimately, in the apocalypse, maintaining mental health was just as crucial as physical condition. To do that, it was best to have trustworthy companions to talk to, and retaining a shred of basic humanity, like his brother did now, was far better than losing it entirely. At least, that was the case for the shelter Jun-ho planned. If the goal was merely to eat, sleep, defecate, and barely exist in a desolate wasteland, there would have been no reason to spend an astronomical fortune building a shelter in the first place.
"As for Hyun-woo... let's take it slow and think about it. Don't say anything to him yet."
"Okay. Got it, Hyung."
Jun-ho chuckled at Jun-hyeok, whose expression had brightened slightly. "Any other friends besides Hyun-woo? A girlfriend, maybe?"
"A girl? No way, none. I mean, there are a few acquaintances I worry about, but..." Jun-hyeok's face darkened again, and he let out a bitter laugh. "It's not like I can save everyone, right? Like you said, Hyung, we have to come first."
"Right. Oh, that reminds me."
"Yeah?"
"You're off from your part-time job tomorrow, right? We need to go look at houses tomorrow. And someone is coming to look at this place, too."
"Already? That's crazy fast."
"I put it up for cheap. Anyway, let's move together all day tomorrow. And..." Jun-ho pointed to the tablet screen on the living room table. "You and I both need to learn this."
"Huh? What is this... a drone?"
"Yeah. An ultralight flying device pilot license. We need to get a Category 2 or Category 3 certification."
"Whoa..."
Seeing Jun-hyeok's flabbergasted expression, Jun-ho spoke in a serious tone. "You might not know this, but in the apocalypse, drones are incredibly important and useful."
"What, for scouting and stuff?"
"That's just the basics. Larger industrial drones can transport everything from food to weapons and equipment. And..."
Jun-ho explained the drone tactics he had personally witnessed and experienced during the apocalypse, and Jun-hyeok's jaw quickly dropped.
"Seriously? They modify drones to shoot guns and stuff?"
"If you link them with a computer program, they can distinguish between zombies and humans. It's actually not as hard as it sounds. Of course, I'm no expert, so I can't build one myself, but it's definitely possible. People would salvage chips and motors from broken drones to build new ones. I even saw someone modify an RC car and a small electric cart using drone parts."
"Whoa, that's insane."
"But there's a catch."
"A catch?"
"Yeah. What powers a drone?"
"Well, batteries... obviously. Ah...!"
As Jun-hyeok realized the implication, Jun-ho nodded. "Exactly. Without electricity, drones and everything else are useless. That's why we have to prioritize power above all else in our shelter."
"Then it has to be solar power, right?"
"Yeah. At the very least, we need a 100-kilowatt system."
Jun-hyeok could only blink at Jun-ho's words. There was no way a normal twenty-two-year-old college student would know how much power 100 kilowatts actually was, or how massive a solar power system capable of producing 100 kilowatts per hour would be.
"Well, that's my problem to solve. Anyway, just keep in mind that we need to get those drone licenses."
"Okay, got it. Is there anything else?"
"Of course. This."
Jun-ho tapped the tablet, and Jun-hyeok's gaze shifted to the screen. His eyes instantly widened.
"Seriously? Guns?"
"Yeah. We absolutely have to get a Class 1 hunting license and a firearm possession permit. That's the only way we can legally buy and handle guns."
"I guess... that makes sense. But even if we buy guns, don't we have to keep them stored at the police station?"
"Right. You can only check them out during the designated hunting season after filing a report."
"Then won't they be useless once the apocalypse hits? They'll be locked up in the police station."
"No. There's a way."
"...?"
Jun-ho remained silent in the face of his brother's curiosity. His plan was, after all, highly illegal. Jun-hyeok would find out eventually, but it was better he didn't know for now.
"I have something in mind. For now, you just need to get the licenses with me."
"Uh... okay. Is that it, then? Nothing else?"
"You think that's it? There's a ton more."
"Ah..."
Jun-ho smiled at his brother's exhausted expression. "But we can do the other things later. Let's just focus on what I just mentioned for now. Oh, and I should start working out with you."
"What? Seriously? You're going to work out too?" Jun-hyeok's face lit up instantly, his voice rising in excitement. "You mean you're going to train at my gym? Yes! I knew it. If you want to survive the apocalypse, MMA is the way to go, right?"
It was true. Jun-hyeok had started training in mixed martial arts as a hobby after his military discharge, but now he was taking it quite seriously. He seemed to have a knack for it; despite training for less than six months, he was already considered a promising prospect at his gym. That was why Jun-ho decided to join his brother's gym rather than learning stand-up striking elsewhere.
"Don't get ahead of yourself. I'm going to focus on stand-up striking."
"Huh? Why?"
"Why do you think, punk?" Jun-ho's expression hardened. "There are no rules in the apocalypse, and nobody walks around empty-handed."
"...!"
"Everyone carries at least a kitchen knife or a screwdriver. If you get tangled up and end up on the ground? You're dead. If there are zombies nearby, you're completely screwed. You have to finish the fight while standing. As fast and decisively as possible."
"I... I guess you're right..."
Jun-hyeok swallowed hard without realizing it. For a split second, his brother's quiet demeanor felt incredibly foreign. It was an indescribable, spine-chilling aura.
Wait, could it be...?
A sudden thought made Jun-hyeok flinch. In that 'prophetic dream,' had his brother really survived just by hiding and running away? Looking at Jun-ho's heavy, sunken eyes and grim expression, Jun-hyeok instinctively knew that couldn't be the case. Yes, the prophetic dream. Even if it was just a dream, his brother must have killed someone—whether zombie or human. And probably a lot of them.
"I'll spend a few weeks getting back into shape first, then I'll sign up at your gym."
"Huh? Oh, yeah, sure. I'll let the head coach know." Jun-hyeok snapped out of his thoughts and nodded.
"Alright. Look at the time. Let's get some dinner."
"Huh? Already?" It was only five in the afternoon.
"From now on, we should try to eat dinner between five and six. We also need to get into the habit of sleeping early and waking up at dawn."
"It's like the military all over again. No, actually, this is worse than the military."
"It's the only way to adapt."
"If you say so, Hyung. Got it." Jun-hyeok shrugged, but there wasn't a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He had decided to trust his brother, and if the apocalypse was real, then Jun-ho was the foremost expert on the subject.
"Should we cook something? Or order delivery?"
"Let's do delivery. Anything is fine."
"Really? Just anything?"
"Yeah. Whatever it is, it's practically the first time I've eaten it in years."
"Ah... right." Jun-hyeok still wasn't used to his brother saying things like that with such a straight face, but he let it go. Jun-ho's eyes looked too sorrowful for him to crack a joke.
"Alright. Like a true Korean, let's start by ordering some kimchi stew—"
"I ordered that for lunch, so something else."
"...Fine, Chinese food it is." Jun-hyeok stared at Jun-ho with dead eyes as his brother flipped his stance in a single second.
Waking up at five in the morning, Jun-ho opened the door to Jun-hyeok's room. His brother was fast asleep, having kicked his blanket halfway off. Although they had agreed to work out together in the morning, Jun-ho smiled faintly and pulled the blanket back over him.
He was the one who had regressed and knew everything, but his brother didn't. No matter how much Jun-hyeok claimed to believe him, it was impossible for the reality of it to truly sink in yet. There were still over two years left, so they could take things slow as long as they made steady progress. Jun-hyeok had always been a good kid who listened well and rarely caused trouble, so he would follow along just fine.
"Phew..."
Jun-ho jogged lightly through the crisp November morning air. Today, instead of the neighborhood park he had visited yesterday, he headed toward Simgokcheon, a stream cutting through downtown Bucheon. Restored as a natural waterway, Simgokcheon offered a round trip of about two kilometers, making it an excellent spot for a jog. Starting from his house and returning would make the total distance just over three kilometers.
Thud, thud.
Jun-ho ran, cutting through the wind. For some reason, his body felt lighter than yesterday. Since it was still too early even for the garbage trucks, the streets were virtually empty, prompting Jun-ho to pick up the pace.
How fast can I run a hundred meters right now? Around seventeen seconds?
His hundred-meter record from his military days was in the high fifteen-second range. True to his perfectly average self, even that had been the exact average for his company. He was bound to be slower now, but he figured he could still manage seventeen or eighteen seconds.
Jun-ho immediately burst into a full sprint. But then...
Wait, isn't this a bit too fast?
It certainly didn't feel like an eighteen-second pace. What's more, even though he was sprinting at full speed, he wasn't particularly out of breath. Jun-ho slowed back down to a regular jogging pace.
Did I just run about two hundred meters?
His heart was beating a little faster, but he wasn't exhausted at all. It was exactly like yesterday.
This is way too strange...
Even as he finished his round trip along Simgokcheon and headed back home, Jun-ho's doubts didn't fade.
"Ah, the timer."
Entering his apartment, Jun-ho hurriedly pulled out his phone. Just in case, he had set a timer right before he started running.
"Twelve minutes...?"
His eyes widened in even greater shock than yesterday.