Hell Scroll (10)
"What the fuck... is this goddamn shithole?"
Panting like he was on the verge of death—huff—haaah—haaa—Park I-sa ripped open his plate carrier.
Hong Kong was fucked—totally fucked. He'd heard the rumors, but this was beyond anything he'd imagined. Zombie-like things with physical abilities boosted about four times over swarmed him endlessly, no matter how many he killed. At this point, missions and bullshit orders be damned—survival came first.
Right there by the coast, there were supposedly superconductors and super soldier serum ingredients scattered everywhere like trash. On the first day, Team 2's guys had been all hyped, stuffing their bags and dreaming of getting rich back home. But by day three, they'd dumped it all. What good were "new materials" if you couldn't carry them out? The pitiful amount a person could haul wasn't worth shit anyway.
The real prize was Hong Kong's hegemony. That was why the Chinese military was flipping out. Communications were restricted, and after Park I-sa's surprise airborne assault, Chinese air force patrols had tightened up, making resupply drops a nightmare. On top of that, the entire Hong Kong Island downtown area outside the safe zones had been declared a lawless zone. Everything they did here was treated as an unofficial op—no one could complain even if the Chinese bombed the shit out of them.
Back in Iraq sweeping Daesh, they'd at least gotten some air support from the government forces. But this? What the hell was it? No way in hell this was worth the paycheck.
"Keep spraying like that and you'll burn through your ammo in no time. I recommend switching to cold steel as your primary."
"...Thanks."
Park I-sa took the offered hand axe from the masked man with a wry smile. Houndmaster? Weird-ass codename. He seemed like either some operator who'd fucked up somewhere and washed his identity clean, or a Tier 1 spec ops type managed so covertly even Park hadn't heard of him. One or the other.
"Here to rescue your company guys?"
"Figured I'd grab a runaway employee while I'm at it. He's attached as bodyguard to the Oriental Shipping president."
"Skilled guy. Adapted to the field fast. Think you can snag him here after fumbling the capture back home?"
"Don't worry. I'll either kill him or drag him back."
"Then you take the bodyguard, we take the Oriental Shipping president. That the deal?"
Ah, so they were giving up on Han Si-yeon? Park I-sa's lips twitched. Sure, Min Cheol-woo had sunk costs worth chasing, but Han Si-yeon blew that out of the water. Snagging her meant getting the usage and recipes for all the new materials and blue drug ingredients littering the place like garbage.
What if we said we wanted a piece of Han too? The jovial vibe would probably shatter.
"Deal."
"Glad we've got common ground."
Intel on the area was still shit—they'd dropped in blind—and without American backup, they'd be screwed. Agreeing now and playing nice with the shared goal was smart. Pushing greed here might force them to ram headfirst into Min Cheol-woo solo. And hey, they could always smile and nod now, then screw each other later. Plenty of time to secure Han for themselves down the line.
"Other Koreans deployed to Hong Kong... Heard rumors they're up north on the island, but that's old news. Can't get close anymore, so no clue what's happening there."
"North? The main road to the lab runs through the northern downtown, right? Shouldn't we secure that first?"
"We would if we could. North side's overrun with mutants—impossible to even approach."
If even the Americans were pulling back, it had to be insanely tough. So why the hell had their guys hunkered down there? Isolated? If so, they were probably dead by now. Better not to get hopes up on rescue.
"One rude question."
"Shoot."
"Heard you shot down an emergency chopper. Your orders?"
"...Wasn't us."
His gravelly voice twisted into something barely intelligible. They'd considered blasting anything airborne heading for the lab with the 'key' aboard, but never actually done it. Even in lawless Hong Kong where humanity had long vanished downtown, that was beast-level shit. How could anyone suspect them?
Houndmaster growled like a warning.
"Don't know who, but the missile launched from Kowloon Peninsula. Zero connection to us."
Fired from across the water. Kowloon coast was under Hong Kong government control. HK cops? But they were allied with Han Si-yeon—why? No, cops packing anti-air missiles was the real red flag.
Then who the fu—
"Mutants incoming from the rear! Over a hundred!"
"Shit. Everyone to battle positions!"
Then the ground shook with thunderous footsteps—rumble-rumble.
Park I-sa gripped the hand axe and bolted out. These bastards never gave you a fucking break.
"Good to meet you. Min Cheol-woo, Section Chief of GeumMyeong Security Team 1. Here to rescue you."
"Pardon?"
"...What?"
"..."
"Ack? Oof!?"
Cheol-woo poked Yuri's nape as she gawked in disbelief. This was prime time for full-method acting—don't break the immersion. If she sucked at improv, better to shut up.
"What's your name?"
"L-Lee Yeon-woo, sir! Wait, aren't you Min Cheol-woo from the newbie seminar? We're in the same class... aren't we?"
"..."
The silence stretched until Lee lowered his eyes.
"S-sorry, sir."
"Lee Yeon-woo. Report the situation."
"I-I twisted my ankle... and I'm starving..."
"Not that. Team 2 wouldn't leave you alone here. What's the status?"
"Oh! Three stops down the tunnel line connects to a hotel station—we're using that as base. Team Leader Im Hyeon-woo is in overall command."
"Lead the way. I'm joining up."
"Y-yes, sir!"
Lee beamed and nodded. The hulking figure in the hazmat suit looked geared up heavy. A classmate as section chief? Wild, but hey—Lee had just gotten promoted to assistant after a month of his line getting wiped. Not that shocking. They came prepared to save them! Tears welled up in Lee's eyes.
"Wait here. I'll clear the exit, then come back."
"Got it!"
Yuri kept yanking Cheol-woo's sleeve insistently, forcing him to duck into the bathroom. Once out on the tracks and away from prying ears, she pulled off her helmet and whispered.
"What's the plan? You got one, right?"
"Just made it up on the spot."
"You fucking maniac...!"
"What's going on?"
Han Si-yeon flicked on her flashlight—click—emerging from the shadows.
Cheol-woo explained, and her face twisted in shock. A guy who'd smashed GeumMyeong Security and fled was rescuing Team 2? Impersonating their chief? Balls of steel.
"Whew. At least we know Team 2's holed up three stops away. Charging past would've meant a fight. Going with that guy avoids conflict."
"Yeah. They've been here over a week—no way they've heard about me. Looks like they're holding with locals; we can grab a guide."
"But impersonating the chief? Team leaders there have ten-plus years seniority."
"Jeong Gwa-jang actually offered me the spot. We say I took it."
"Sigh. Fair enough. No gunshots, save ammo—that's ideal."
Save ammo? Really? Yuri side-eyed Cheol-woo's face suspiciously. Maintaining high-wire tension with lies that could blow any second, versus just gunning everyone down—which was easier for him? The obvious comfy path was there, but he picked the hard one.
How can you shoot people! Warning shots are enough! Couldn't you just scare 'em off? Did you have to kill everyone!?
Old bullshit from her naive days echoed. She hadn't known the resolve behind his trigger finger. Hadn't grasped the risks he took to save her.
But he'd etched those words into his heart.
He doesn't kill unless he has to...
Cheol-woo didn't pick up a gun to kill. He did it to protect her—and himself. Yuri doubted he'd ever set it down post-apocalypse, but now? No doubt. He wasn't from that world. She grinned wide.
"Why the smile?"
"Nothing."
"Helmet on. Time to grab Lee."
"Wait. How do you explain me? We need our story straight..."
As Cheol-woo turned back to the bathroom, he stared at Han, deep in thought. Could they fake her ID too? No chance—everyone on Team 2 knew her face. So how to spin a GeumMyeong chief strolling with his sworn enemy, Oriental Shipping's president?
He crossed his arms, pondering—then locked eyes with Yuri.
Oh? You thinking it too?
Their gazes slid toward Han. Her face darkened, sensing doom.
In the dim subway station, burly men hauled gear off quad bikes, grunting—ugh, ungh—dragging it inward. Even with the bikes, transporting enough to arm ten guys by hand with just two people...?
Im Hyeon-woo chuckled hollowly at the piled weapons in the corner. Anti-tank missiles, anti-air, anti-materiel rifles, machine guns... That explained how they'd punched through this hellhole.
They really packed it all in.
A hollow laugh escaped him. When Lee radioed that rescue had arrived, he'd thought bullshit. But seeing the gear? They meant business. Tension eased.
How many? Not solo if chief-level—a platoon at least?
He turned beaming—then three figures climbed from the tracks. Just three. Scrawny young guy, hulking tank dragging a case in full hazmat, and a short middle-schooler girl.
That's it...?
Im's face fell.
"You Im Hyeon-woo, team leader?"
"Yessir."
"Min Cheol-woo, GeumMyeong Security Team 1 Chief, dispatched for your rescue. Report the situation."
Cheol-woo clasped hands behind back, eyeing the lined-up staff.
"Out of ten, three missing, two dead. Five left under me."
"Got it. I'm taking command for extraction. Good work—thanks for holding."
"..."
Ignoring the offered hand, Im flicked his fingers backward. A staffer rushed up, peered at Cheol-woo's face, whispered in Im's ear.
"Yes, it's him. Min Cheol-woo, Team 1 newbie from a month ago."
"Team 1 newbie? As chief? What the hell, civilian?"
"..."
"Answer straight from now on. Got it? Who's responsible for dragging you here? Shoot him? Kill Jeong Gwa-jang, steal the gear?"
Click—Im racked his pistol slide, aiming at Cheol-woo's forehead. A kid this young as chief? Laughable even for a quick assistant bump. Lies needed effort. This punk mocking him?
"What happened to Jeong? Speak, asshole."
"Jeong Gwa-jang's dead. Seoul."
"...Huh?"
"Oriental Shipping's Han Si-yeon got a Hong Kong lab pass. Fights broke at Incheon Port, New Incheon Port, DongYang Department Store to secure her. Team 1 mid-levels and key staff wiped, Team 2 took hits too. Amid the losses, Yu Sil-jang fast-tracked proven survivors—I got Team 1 chief. This is her sword from the promotion. You gonna claim I killed her too and took it?"
Shing—the gray blade slid free.
Ahs and recognition rippled. Im knew it—hung prominently in Yu's office. Her lending it? Unthinkable normally. But to a suddenly promoted subordinate amid cuts, lending her authority? Plausible.
Tremble-tremble—Im's gun shook.
"S-so... the chief came all this way for us?"
"No. I'd have sent grunts for that. Main objective's this."
"...!"
Ziiiip—the case opened. Im flinched. Tall woman inside, limbs bound, gagged, crammed in. Familiar face. Eh? Then—A!
"Big losses, but we captured Oriental Shipping's Han Si-yeon. Here to extract isolated Team 2, use her to crack the lab, grab the data. Anything else I need to report to you, Team Leader? Hmm?"
"Uh..."
"Speak now. I'll explain nicely right here to everyone."
"...Nothing."
"Nothing? Then put the fucking gun down, you prick."
"Gah!?"
Whip—thud—Im's pistol was gone in a flash. He spun midair, crashed arm-twisted to the ground, groaning—urgh.
"Never point a gun at me again."
Cheol-woo swallowed his rage, warning calmly. He'd never let a barrel near his head before. Staring down the chamber at the loaded round? Way fucking worse than imagined.