Hell Scroll (11)
Im Team Leader's cheek was swollen bright red. He winced—ahh, shit—rubbing an ice pack against it, but the moment Cheol-woo emerged from changing clothes, he bolted out like a shot.
"From now on, I'm taking command here. Any objections?"
"None at all, sir. Lead us however you see fit."
"Priority one is breaching the lab. Rescue comes second. Any critical personnel?"
"No, sir. All the urgent cases are dead. Just give the order, and we'll follow you into the lab."
No matter what Cheol-woo said, Im Team Leader bobbed his head, simpering yes, yes, yes. Cheol-woo had pegged him for an asshole, but in an instant, the guy had turned downright agreeable. Was it the arm-twist and face-plant that did it? Or was he always this deferential to superiors? Either way, the initial murderous vibe had evaporated, replaced by waves of loyalty. That was reassuring.
Wait... loyalty?
When did he even see me fight before...?
"Team Leader, over here a sec..."
"What? I'm in the middle of briefing Min Section Chief on the situation!"
"Something's off with you right now."
"Kid, why are you whispering? Got something to hide from the chief?"
"No, really—it's weird. Why are you acting like this all of a sudden? This isn't you. Why are you sucking up so hard?"
"What the hell? It's the section chief. You still doubting Min Section Chief?"
"I couldn't shake the suspicion entirely, but putting that aside—it's still weird. He's not even from Team 2; he's Team 1's section chief. Even if Section Chief Jeong showed up, I doubt you'd grovel like this. Why the fuck are you bowing to some green kid?"
Im Team Leader was off. Way off. Over the past two weeks leading the survivor camp, Cheol-woo had overheard him muttering about Team 1 being shit at least a hundred times. The guy didn't give a damn about performance metrics, just spent his days hunting internal spies and screwing over employees, calling them no better than enemies within. It wasn't just Im—every Team 2 guy felt the same resentment. Hell, even if Section Chief Jeong were here, he wouldn't be kissing ass this hard. So why with him?
It was starting to look like the guy had lost his mind from witnessing too much inhuman horror.
"Fuck. You wouldn't get it even if I explained."
"What wouldn't we get?"
"That man's a vicious bastard. Ruthless. But he's dead serious about the company."
"Explain it so we can understand."
"I told you, you'd never get it."
Im Team Leader clicked his tongue, but the second Cheol-woo called from behind, he flashed a beaming smile and trotted over, sticking to his side like glue.
Am I going senile? Sucking up to some punk young enough to be my nephew?
No. Im Team Leader still vividly remembered the gun snatch from moments ago. He was used to superhuman speed—faster than he could pull the trigger, arms moving on their own. Section Chief Jeong had always been a monster, and lately, freaks with unnatural speed and strength were popping up everywhere. But Min Section Chief? He was way faster.
Normally, to disarm a pistol shoved in your face, you'd grab the barrel and twist it aside. It wouldn't stop the shot, but you'd dodge the bullet. Instead, Min Section Chief reached past the barrel, clamping Im's right wrist. He crushed the tendons, locking the trigger finger, then took the gun.
He deliberately chose the longer, riskier way to disarm me.
Why the unnecessary steps? To prevent an accidental discharge. In a place crawling with mutants and monsters, a gunshot could doom everyone. And ricochet? Someone could get hit or killed. Min Section Chief had weighed all that, accepted the risk, and disarmed inefficiently for safety.
Even with a gun to his head, he prioritized his team's safety over his own life... Fuck, that's company loyalty.
Word from Korea was that Section Chief Jeong, Agent Kang, and Team Chief Choi had died amid massive losses. Suddenly, it made sense how a month-old rookie ended up section chief in that chaos. Prioritizing employee safety was one thing, but breaking through here with just two people—one a noncombatant president, the other some middle-schooler—meant his skills were beyond elite.
How could anyone shun a guy like that just for being young, or from Team 1? He was throwing himself into saving every last Team 2 employee without discrimination.
I was the fool.
Im Team Leader was now so brimming with loyalty and devotion that a mere nudge would bring tears.
"But is it okay if we don't handle that carrier for you?"
"Yeah. It's not that I don't trust you guys—it's just... handing it off feels wrong. You get it?"
"Of course, sir. You've been in Hong Kong over two weeks; defection risk is real. I'll make sure my team doesn't touch the keys."
"Looks like the hotel connects to the history museum up top. You secure that too?"
"Yes, sir. Want a look? We're housing survivors up there now."
Cheol-woo and Im Team Leader moved through the passage to the hotel basement, with NewTontonMan waddling behind.
Cheol-woo figured "housing survivors" meant a dozen or so, but every floor was packed. Total headcount: just over thirty.
Something feels off, though.
As Cheol-woo scanned the faces, a sudden wave of unease hit him. Random? No. It struck only when looking at certain people.
How to describe it? Like staring at mannequins? Hard to pin down. Maybe just his imagination.
"You guys were handling rations and survivor management?"
"Yes, sir. Still are. We were doing it with the Black Wolf Triad crew until the day before yesterday—they had business westside and vanished. No word since."
"..."
Black Wolf? Black wolf in Korean? Cheol-woo racked his brain—ah. Among the Chinese thugs Yuri had wiped out, tons had black wolf tattoos. That must've been them.
Cheol-woo cleared his throat. "So we're managing solo for now... but it's overwhelming. Food's running low, ammo's long gone—we can't even scout for supplies. This area's extra deadly: black monsters prowl at night, mutants roam by day. We're itching for a chance, but escorting over thirty civilians? No safe way out."
"You're trying to save all thirty?"
"So you're not unable to leave—you're choosing not to?"
"Yes, sir. We could bail anytime, but that'd doom the survivors. Can't do it. We requested rescue teams to the safe zone multiple times—ignored every one. Hong Kong government's got no will or capability for rescues."
Cheol-woo agreed. The "safe zone" was a mess too—earthquakes had flattened everything, no cleanup capacity, rations spotty. Refugees looked ready to riot. Here, they were all starving together, but order was far better than the safe zone. Controlling over thirty civilians in this hell? Im Team Leader wasn't ordinary.
"You smoke?"
"No, go ahead."
"Thanks. Then even solo... haa. No clue what to do. Every night we poll the team on ditching survivors—unanimous stay. Honestly, I'd love to grab our guys and run. Our people's lives matter more than these inscrutable chinks, right? But they... fuck. Haa... Food's dwindling, no water, mood's turning ugly—we were on edge till you showed. Sorry for the earlier bullshit, Section Chief. We ragged on HQ for no support—had no idea about Korea."
"..."
Up on the roof, Im Team Leader chain-smoked, burning through his precious last cigs from a crumpled pack. Saved for his final moments, but now? Might as well finish them.
"I know priority one is lab data. I'll help secure it—please, just do your utmost for the survivors too."
"..."
Im Team Leader bowed ninety degrees at the waist. Cheol-woo descended silently from the roof.
Door shut, carrier opened—Han Sa-jang groaned owww, my back emerging, Yuri yanked off her helmet with a puhaaa, inhaling fresh air. Sweat-mist billowed; Cheol-woo stepped back.
"Rescue the survivors. You really planning to?"
"Impossible. Unless we burn all ammo escorting them to the safe zone. But then lab's off the table."
"I agree. Pull local guides, grab the recipe from the lab, ditch 'em."
"..."
Yuri watched their seamless discussion, breath catching. Lure desperate people, use them, abandon them. Dangle hope, then snatch it away. Said so casually.
Of course, they were GeumMyeong Security—not innocents. They'd deceived, manipulated, toyed with their lives plenty. Tit for tat? Fair. But a weight still settled in her chest.
"Even if we leave, why not share spare gear and food? Chinese military's inbound soon—enough to hold till then?"
"Ammo and guns overflowing, so it looks cheap? You swing a sword, so no feel for it? Just hand it over? To enemies we were aiming at?"
"Not just GeumMyeong—innocent locals too."
"Lives we don't owe. They should've died ages ago; team leader's soft heart bought extra time. Natural order—easier that way."
"Natural order!?"
Cheol-woo watched silently as the women heated up. Han Sa-jang's words were rational, empathetic, correct—but seeing Yuri deflate irked him.
This gear was his anyway, under his control. Why was she taking credit? And drawing lines—her eternal ally, GeumMyeong eternal foe? Laughable. She and Cheol-woo had pointed guns too. No eternal friends or foes in this game—she'd proven it, yet now split sides the second they teamed up.
She's grating. Keeps testing me.
Polite to him, but subtly treating Yuri like a subordinate? Not crossed the line yet, but dancing near it, scraping.
Cheol-woo bit his lip, glaring at Han Sa-jang. Her eyes softened instantly.
"Got a bit heated. My mistake. If we have leeway, mutual aid's best. Who knows how this plays out later. Though I think cutting ties with everyone here is smarter..."
Han Sa-jang backpedaled frantically; Yuri blinked in surprise. Smart girl—knew when to quit.
Cheol-woo admired her instincts. "Before pulling guides, scan the local survivors."
"Looking for superhumans like you?"
"Yeah. And anyone with useful abilities. See the local corpse in the history museum?"
"No."
"Mutant swarm got him, but only a throat slash—no other wounds. Self-inflicted, not mutants. They'd tried eating him, there'd be damage; pristine."
"Ah! People immune to mutants?"
"Hypothesis."
Cheol-woo recalled the cathedral mummies. Skulls hollowed out. Desiccated, not rotting—mutant jerky, yet untouched. Personal ability? Or some repellent substance? Either way, immunity existed.
Check that body again.
He'd rushed it to Team 2 earlier. After asking around, he found the basement morgue. Bodies stockpiled for weekly mass cremation.
Cheol-woo indifferently opened the freezer, sliding out the tray with a drrrk.
"What the hell?"
Cheol-woo's brow furrowed. Moments ago, fatal throat wound aside, intact. Now? Massive hole in the occiput, skull cavity empty.
Just like the cathedral corpses.