That Is Impossible
"The people from Edutown. Normally... I mean, before the world went to hell, they didn't even associate with us. They thought they were better than us just because their apartments were larger and more luxurious. There are only two apartment complexes in this area, and most of the commercial district is concentrated across the street on the Edutown side."
But there was one exception: the mid-sized supermarket used by residents of both complexes was located on The First Apartments' side. Having recently cleared the zombies within their own complex and secured a route to the outside, the Edutown survivors were now eyeing this supermarket greedily.
"Edutown has almost twice as many households as we do. Naturally, they have far more survivors than us. Until recently, we saw them looting a few convenience stores and restaurants near their complex, but I guess that wasn't enough, because now they're snooping around here."
Jun-ho had already confirmed this through his safe house CCTV and drone surveillance. Edutown, consisting of about five hundred households across eight buildings, was divided into sectors of two buildings each. Currently, the ones targeting The First Mart were the survivors from Buildings 1 and 2, which were closest to the complex entrance and the main road.
They had completely blocked off the internal roads leading to Buildings 3 through 8, monopolizing the complex entrance to loot the surrounding commercial area for themselves.
"...Anyway, looking at how those people are acting, I think we're going to clash sooner or later. That's why we need to prepare thoroughly and—"
"I don't think that's a very good idea."
"What? What do you mean by..."
Song Ki-jun tilted his head in confusion at Jun-ho's words. Jun-ho pulled out his tablet again and spoke.
"Pull up the map of this area and Edutown."
Soon, the drone's aerial camera captured The First Apartments, the national highway running between them, and the Edutown complex. Jun-ho pointed to a specific spot on the screen for Song Ki-jun, who was staring at the tablet in awe.
"If we block this spot, the problem is solved. If they want to get to the supermarket from their side, this is the only road they can take, right? Any other route would require them to make a massive detour, or the zombie density is simply too high."
"T-that's true. But couldn't the Edutown residents clear out the zombies and make their way around?"
"Then that's even better."
"Pardon?"
"They'd be clearing out the zombies in this area for us. Isn't that a good thing?"
"Ah..."
This was typical of apocalyptic survivors. Thoughts that would have come easily under normal circumstances became blocked by tension, fear, and the despair of a bleak reality. It was no different from how a depressed person began to view everything through a negative lens.
"And we can cross that bridge when we get to it. Even if Edutown actually starts slaughtering zombies to get here, it will take them weeks to reach this point. Can't we just prepare and brace ourselves in the meantime?"
"Y-you're right. Why didn't I think of that?"
"And another thing."
Jun-ho reattached the tablet to the center of his tactical vest as he continued.
"I'm telling you this because you—or rather, Mr. Song Ki-jun—are someone I can actually communicate with. If a situation like that arises, I might lend a hand."
"R-really?"
"Yes."
That had been his goal from the beginning. Song Ki-jun was a man who had never lost courage or hope even when captured by gangsters, earning the trust of others to act as their leader. Though he had ultimately failed due to a traitor, his decisiveness and initiative were exceptional enough to rally the survivors groaning under the gangsters' boots and lead a rebellion.
"But... what do you gain from doing this, Mr. Lee Jun-ho?"
"Gahyeon-ri."
"......?!"
"I want to turn Gahyeon-ri into a community of shared destiny, led by someone trustworthy. Only then will my companions and I be truly safe."
In his stead, Song Ki-jun would run Gahyeon-ri like a lordless fiefdom—an autonomous community where people worked and fought together.
"A community... of shared destiny?"
Song Ki-jun's expression looked somewhat blank. However, Jun-ho knew that this was the face Ki-jun made when he was concentrating or thinking deeply about something.
"Yes. As you've probably guessed, Mr. Song, South Korea is finished. For the first two or three weeks after the world went to hell, we heard gunshots, artillery fire, and fighter jets, didn't we? But what about now?"
"......"
"The government failed to reclaim the metropolitan area. Even if Gahyeon-ri is somewhat rural, we're right in front of a metropolitan light rail line. If they had succeeded, do you think rescue wouldn't have arrived by now? At the very least, there should have been some change in Mokuri. But there's absolutely nothing."
"How do you know that... Ah."
When Jun-ho tapped his tablet, Song Ki-jun immediately understood and nodded.
"From what I know, the government, politicians, and high-ranking officials have all fled to Jeju Island. A large portion of the Marine Corps and special forces crossed over there as well."
"I-is that true?"
"Yes. I heard it from a reliable source, so there's no mistake."
Since the "regressor" himself had personally experienced it, it was indeed a fact.
"It seems those government bastards underestimated Jeju Island just because it's an island. Do you know how many tourists visit Jeju in August, especially during a holiday weekend? The local population is around seven hundred thousand, but during peak season, there are hundreds of thousands of tourists. On the day the world ended, there must have been at least a million people there."
"A-a million..."
"Yes. In any case, I believe the government and the military that fled with them are currently too overwhelmed trying to clear out Jeju Island. Their actual, commandable combat forces probably number only a few tens of thousands at best. How long do you think it will take them to clear the entire island?"
By now, half of the main military units near the metropolitan area had likely been decimated by zombies. Or they were paralyzed by supply shortages, their chain of command completely shattered.
In other words, they had splintered into isolated units wandering the wastes, with some already beginning to transition into warlord factions.
"So, you shouldn't blindly trust military units right now either. And people from other neighborhoods? You know by now that the bastards who raided this place today weren't all gangsters, right?"
"...Yes."
Having interrogated the captured gangsters and discovered that some of the intruders were actually residents of the nearby single-family homes and townhouses, Song Ki-jun nodded with a grim expression.
"If people from the same neighborhood act like that, abandon any hope that outsiders will show you goodwill. Our best bet is for like-minded people in Gahyeon-ri to band together and survive."
"So, Mr. Lee Jun-ho, are you planning to become the king of Gahyeon-ri? Or some kind of medieval lord?"
Jun-ho chuckled inwardly at the very characteristic question. It was precisely this side of Song Ki-jun that had made Jun-ho choose him as the leader of the Gahyeon-ri community.
"I don't particularly want anything from this place. Whether the survivors band together to farm or do whatever else, as long as you manage to survive well on your own, that's enough. That is all I want."
"What do you mean by..."
"Look, let's say we clear out all the zombies in Gahyeon-ri, and the survivors here unite to form a community."
"......"
"If outsiders invade, are you not going to fight? Will you just stand by and watch?"
"Of course not. We would have to fight."
"Exactly. Fighting back is the normal thing to do. And that is precisely what I want."
"Ah!"
As expected of a sharp and quick-witted man, Song Ki-jun gasped as he realized Jun-ho's true intentions.
"If Gahyeon-ri unites, thrives, and fights well, my companions and I will be safe too. That's why I want Gahyeon-ri to stabilize as quickly as possible. Do you think I killed those high school delinquents in Jung-dong because I had nothing better to do?"
"Ah! Then today as well..."
"Yes. If those high school punks were non-recyclable hazardous waste, then those gangster bastards were trash that needed to be sorted eventually. And today was simply trash day."
Only then did Song Ki-jun fully comprehend Jun-ho's words, nodding in agreement.
"So, in the end, the survival and prosperity of the Gahyeon-ri survivors directly correlates to the safety of you and your companions. That's what you're saying."
"Well, it's not entirely like that, but close enough. So..."
Jun-ho scanned the apartment residents, who were working diligently while casting occasional glances in his direction, before continuing.
"I want you to handle that, Mr. Song. I don't have the confidence to coddle and lead those people, nor do I have any desire to. But you're different, aren't you?"
"......"
"I'll help you. For your information, I have a doctor and a pharmacist among my companions. I can also provide you with a few hundred liters of diesel, several generators, and batteries to use at night. Running a generator for about an hour on one liter of fuel can keep three or four standard refrigerators running all day."
"I-is that true?"
"Yes, absolutely. If you plan to farm on the apartment rooftops or in the parks, I can even bring you seed potatoes and sweet potatoes."
"Then, by any chance, what about rice..."
True to his Korean roots, Song Ki-jun immediately asked for rice, the most crucial staple. Jun-ho nodded.
"I know where the newly built Nonghyup Warehouse is located."
"Ah!"
"I heard about it from a resident of Beoksagol, a hamlet near the warehouse. You aren't lacking immediate food right now, are you?"
"Ah, yes. We can hold out until this winter. We scavenged the homes of those in our building who died or... turned into zombies, and we managed to gather quite a bit of food."
"Then just hold out through the winter. I plan to clean out those gangster bastards by February—no, by January. We can talk again then. I'll have the fuel, generators, and batteries delivered tomorrow."
"T-thank you. Thank you so much, Mr. Lee Jun-ho."
Song Ki-jun looked deeply moved. Of course, he probably didn't trust Jun-ho one hundred percent yet, but this was more than enough for now. Besides, Jun-ho had no reason to feel it was a waste to support Song Ki-jun. Because...
This was exactly why I bought and stockpiled so many generators and batteries in the first place.
This was the reason he had purchased dozens of household emergency generators and batteries of around four to five kilowatts, which were unsuitable for the shelter's own needs. It was also why he had purchased twenty thousand liters of diesel through the Volcano Group, added various stabilizers and inhibitors, sealed them in stainless steel drums, and stored them in a specially constructed fuel warehouse.
Even in the pre-apocalypse world, the power of grain giants like Cargill and oil supermajors represented by the Seven Sisters was absolute. How much more so in an apocalypse? The one who held food and fuel was king. People lived and died over a few cans of tuna, instant rice, or a single twenty-liter jerrycan of gasoline or diesel.
"If you're grateful, make sure to pass the word along to those people over there. Tell them that as long as they don't act like pieces of shit first, I have no reason to treat them like shit either."
"Ah, yes. I will absolutely convey that. Once they hear about this, they won't even think of acting up; they'll just be grateful."
Song Ki-jun spoke with absolute certainty. And Jun-ho was equally certain.
He was showing them where food was and providing them with generators and the fuel to generate electricity. Above all, it wasn't just that his ridiculous nickname, the Mansion Slayer, had spread.
Today, the residents here had witnessed firsthand how he fought, and what he became when angered. So, complaints? Rebellion? Such things were out of the question.
He wouldn't rule over or oppress them; in fact, he was offering them aid. Yet, he was also a man who could show up at any moment and put a bullet through their heads if they crossed him.
"C-Chang-oh! Han Chang-oh!"
"H-Hyung... *Ugh!* Fuck, gently... Ah, aaah."
Lying on his stomach, Han Chang-oh groaned as the crossbow bolt was pulled from his back and his wound was treated.
"What happened? What the hell went down?"
"It was that bastard."
"That bastard? Who the hell is 'that bastard'?"
"The one who killed those punks between Sang-dong and Jung-dong. The one they call the slayer or whatever. *Ugh.*"
"The Mansion Slayer? Why him?"
"Because that motherfucker was at the supermarket! Fuck... and he wasn't alone. There were at least three of them with air rifles. They kept shooting at us like crazy even as we ran."
"What? No fucking way. An air rifle isn't some kitchen knife. Even I barely managed to hide a few before the laws changed..."
"I don't know! Anyway, we barely managed to find one air rifle, but I lost mine while running away after getting stabbed. I'm sorry, Hyung."
"You crazy bastard. You made it back alive, that's what matters. Who cares about some gun... No, actually, now that I think about it, it is a bit of a waste."
"Ah, fuck, Hyung. *Argh!* Hey, gently..."
"All done. Don't lie flat on your back for a while; sleep in this position. I'm leaving now."
A middle-aged woman, who had apparently been a nursing assistant in her youth, spoke bluntly and walked out.
"Why, that fucking bitch..."
"Bear with it, bear with it. If it weren't for her, you wouldn't have even gotten treated, you idiot."
"Ugh... Anyway, Hyung. That motherfucker killed so many of our guys. Myeong-ho and Hun-cheol got captured. Once I heal up..."
"Forget it."
"...What?"
"You said they have three or four guys with guns, right? And is there any guarantee that's all of them? Besides..."
Han Chang-sik, lighting one of his few remaining cigarettes—now rationed to two or three a day—opened the window to let the cold wind hit his face as he continued.
"Now that I think about it, that Mansion Slayer bastard... I think he's the same guy who killed our boys at the back gate of the single-family homes before."
"......!"
"It's best not to cross paths with a lunatic like that. The First Apartments and the supermarket must be his territory. So forget it. Once you're healed, we'll expand into Jung-dong. It's all country bumpkins over there, so it'll be much easier."
"Fuck..."
At his brother's words, Han Chang-oh merely muttered a low curse, a stark contrast to his usual fierce and hot-tempered nature. Because...
The Mansion Slayer he had faced directly for the first time today was so terrifying that merely recalling him sent goosebumps rippling across even the notorious Han Chang-oh's entire body.